Val Paraiso…

…a place I would move to in a heartbeat.

Some days you just need something pretty. Sweet. Real. So here it is. Graffiti from Val Paraiso, Chile. It is not my Art, but I love the feeling it brings.


We were here only for two nights, but it was like a hug. From a wild, sexy hippie with smelly armpits. I loved it. Staying in a hostel Latinamericano wasn´t the best choice we could have made. The huge hostel is conveniently located near the bus station. But that is about it. It is a bit dodgy a scruffy and they tried to charge us a different price. And the main stuff is actually not happening in the centre, but in the hills above the city. I wans´ scared, because I am a big girl, but if you have the option, the hills are much better choice. There you can find the artists, the graffiti, the little streets and bars and hostels. It felt so real, so honest so raw.

At this time we were still counting the currency rate in a wrong way, so it all seemed a bit cheaper than it really was, so we had a great time. Everybody is so attractive in there. The suntanned dark guys with a boho look, grls with long, very long shiny dark hair. Nothing happened, but this exciting feeling was in hte air.

I can totally imagine my life sitting there in a coffe shop smoking a rolled ciggy (I am not a smoker, but there it just feels like that) and writing poems…well like Pablo Neruda did.



If You Forget Me – Poem by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.


How to get there? Just hop on a two hours bus from Santiago main bus station. They go pretty much every hour. There are many companies that go there. Book a hostel in advance. It is always busy there.



Just in case you wondered

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973) Chile.

His real name is Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto.

He took the name Pablo Neruda in 1920, which he adopted in memory of the Czechoslovak poet Jan Neruda.

Alongside his literary activities, Neruda studied French and pedagogy at the University of Chile in Santiago. Between 1927 and 1935, the government put him in charge of a number of honorary consulships, which took him to Burma, Ceylon, Java, Singapore, Buenos Aires, Barcelona, and Madrid.

His poetic production during that difficult period included, among other works, the collection of esoteric surrealistic poems, Residencia en la tierra (1933), which marked his literary breakthrough.

In 1943, Neruda returned to Chile, and in 1945 he was elected senator of the Republic.

He also joinined the Communist Party of Chile. Because of his protests against President González Videla’s repressive policy against striking miners in 1947, he had to live underground in his own country for 2 years. He then managed to leave in 1949 to live in different European countries. He returned home in 1952.

…written with help from Wikipedia, and


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