THERE’S NOTHING COLD ABOUT CUE!

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 236, 24 December 1927, Page 22

THERE’S NOTHING COLD ABOUT CUE!

Warm Southern Beauty in Valparaiso. . . A City Where Means Much. . . Inhospitable, Parched Coastline.

Written for THE SEN by AH PAD SZIGETTARY)

HILE, the South American country whose territory stretches in a long narrow strip of land from tropic to frigid zone, is a country pers in variety of climate,

scenery and pursuits for so relatively small an acreage. On looking at the map the configuration of the boundaries practically explains why. It might also be compared to Euclid’s definition of a straight line: “That which has length but no breadth.” On approaching by sea from the North one's first warning of the nearness of Chile are the hundreds of

pelicans which haunt the Southern coast of Peru and enrich that country to such an extent by their valuable guano deposits that they are protected by law. and the islands whereon they roost are “tapu,” except to licensed firms which dig the excreta for dispatch to all parts of the universe as fertiliser after it has been prepared, mostly in Germany, for general use.

The first town of importance in Northern Chile is Arica. Not very important as far as commerce is concerned, but interesting politically. For here, as at Tacna, before the war between Chile and the combined forces of Peru and Bolivia, the latter nation had her Pacific littoral and unimpeded communication with the outside world. As a result of the war, so disastrous to Bolivia, she lost all her seaboard to Chile and was relegated to a position as a lonely and inaccessible land hemmed in on all sides by foreign countries. One of the terms of the Treaty of Peace between the belligerent countries stated that Chile after a number of years of occupation of the conquered territory should hold a plebiscite. After strenuous representations by Peru and Bolivia, Chile, just about the conclusion of the European war with its accompanying cries of "self-deter-mination,” was forced to accede to the demand that she should fulfil the letter of the treaty. On agreement of the interested countries General Pershing, U.S.A., was asked to sit as president of the court, to which request he complied, only to have to resign in despair after an extended period of futile conferences. It was openly averred that Chile, fearing the plebiscite, drafted into the occupied provinces numbers of her subjects to swell the pro-Chilean voting list. Be this as it may, nothing came of General Pershing's well-meant efforts, and Arica remains in the hands of Chile to-day, whilst Bolivia mourns over her Alsace Lorraine.

From here practically down to San Antonio the coast is as bleak and bare as it is possible to imagine. Towering mountains, part of the Andean chain that forms the backbone of Chile, raise heavenward their scarred sides on which not a shrub or blade or grass can be seen. And all around is sand, nothing but interminable sand. The glare of the sun’s reflection off the bare rocks is terrific, and the heat scorching. Probably the coastline here would be deserted as unfit for human habitation except for the fact that inland hereabouts are the enormous nitrate fields whose produce has made Chile what she is to-day. For the quick transit of these nitrates and of copper overseas little towns have grown around the deep water harbours, affording what little shelter the coast possesses.

Iquique and Antofagasta are the largest of this chain of seaports, and the latter illustrates what man can do to render an inhospitable and cruel land into something approaching beauty; at any rate succeeding in making living there as comfortable and entertaining as force of circumstances will permit. Here, in the central park of Antofagasta, is an allegorical statue to the memory of the Britons and Chileans who laid down their lives during the late war for Britain. Chile never declared war on the Central Empires, not even did she break off diplomatic relations, in spite of which fact the statues at Antofagasta silently show the great esteem in which Britain is held by many Chileans, when they, members of a non-combatant country, could send their sons to die for a ioreign nation.

The same cruel coastline continues right down to Valparaiso, the largest and most important city on the Pacific coast of South America. Most people have seen the painting “Off Valparaiso” and doubted probably if water could be so blue and any sky of such colour. It is true. But it is not possible for any human being to describe by word or colour the beauty of the seascape. Valparaiso itself is situated on an open roadstead, there bein wharves for only a few vessels, most masters preferring to ’-eep their vessels anchored in the bay, so that, on the approach of one of the dreaded prevalent gales, they can slip their cables and steam out to sea, the only safe mode of procedure.

Viewed from the roadsted Valparaiso presents a unique scene of beauty. The name means “Vale of Paradise,” but that was merely a poetic flight of fancy on the part of one of the first comers, it being in no sense a vale or a paradise either, for that matter. Near the shore on the flat ground are situated the business houses and public buildings, the latter a classic type of open architecture only compatible in warmer climes. Behind the level ground rises almost perpendicularly the mountain background so typical of Chile. Right up the mountain side nestle the residences of the well-to-do, some of the houses seeming to hang suspended in the air, so precariously that one wonders what holds them to Mother Earth.

Absolutely modern, the city pre

sents a blend of all that is best in Europe and in the new world south of Panama. One is thankful that the soft southern beauty of the place has not to any great extent been insulted by the baroque North American vogue of building. The theatres, unlike the usual drab exteriors of English and North American places of amusement, are a delight to the eye. One can dine in gorgeous restaurants paying a fabulous price for a meal, or one can get quite as good a meal in a humble cafe for a trifle. Such is the great advantage of South American life; one can always find pleasant living and entertainment to suit one’s pocket.

From Valparaiso the railway runs to Santiago, the capital, and the seat of one of the oldest and most renowned universities in the southern hemisphere. From there the railway runs through a tunnel in the Andes, the tunnel itself a marvellous feat of engineering, down through the vineyards of Mendoza, in the Argentine, to Buenos Aires, the only transcontinental line in South America, and

the railway over which the Prince of Wales passed on his journey of peace and goodwill. Right on the Andean summit of the railway, amid eternal snow and desolation, there stands a cross with a crucified Jesus. Miles from the nearest habitation it was erected there to commemorate the peace between Argentina and Chile. Apart from what religious view's one may hold there is something awe- and reverence-inspiring in the thought of this lonely effigy of Christ looking down on two countries which have mutually acceded to His teachings and abandoned warfare for peace. From Valparaiso it is but a short sea journey to the romantic, almost mythical, island, Juan Fernandez, the generally accepted home for so many years of Alexander Selkirk, immortalised by Defoe in “Robinson Crusoe.” There are but a few inhabitants there even now, fishermen predominating, and many a credulous visitor has been fascinated by one or other of these men pointing out various places connected with Robinson Crusoe’s exploits, disregarding or not being aware of the fact that there are reasons to doubt whether this was really the scene of Alexander Selkirk’s exile at all, as historical evidence points strongly to a West Indian island north of Trinidad being in reality the stage of his adventures. Still, the glamour remains with Juan Fernandez, and why should the popular version be shattered, be it fallacy or not? Returning to modern history, Juan Fernandez was used by the combatant navies in the late war during a series of manoeuvres which culminated in the Battle of Coronel and the loss of Admiral Craddock and his brave men.

Before 1914 the Chilean Navy was run on British lines and the Army on German principles. It was rather amusing to see an undersized Chilean Indian strutting along in the uniform of a Prussian Guardsman! Now the uniform is modelled on the British. Chilean seamen, though not overclean or smart as to appearance, are most excellent sailors, and her soldiers are probably the most efficient and bravest fighting men in Latin America, Argentina not excepted. Although nominally a democratic country Chile is in many ways as autocratic as old Spain. Family, not money, counts. Parvenus and noveaux-riches find it hard to enter the circle of aristocratic elite; even Britons of good family find it difficult to associate familiarly with these grandees, although all foreigners are treated with the same innate courtesy and hospitality for which the Latins are deservedly famous. Strict in her social distinctions, Chile in common with the majority of the Central and South American republics, is singularly broadminded in the matter of religion. The greater part of the people are Roman Catholic, but all religious denominations are allowed perfect freedom of views and speech. With the enormous amount of foreign capital sunk in Chile naturally

the investors involved are in the habit of sending out their own nationals to supervise their interests, but recently a "Chile for the Chileans” movement has evolved, and it is now the policy of the Chileans to acquire and run for themselves the various commercial propositions now in the hands of Europeans or North Americans. Whereas in the old days the upper classes were content to sit back and let others make the money for them, they are now beginning to take a more active and intelligent interest in business in the endeavour to keep in the country money that would otherwise go abroad to alien shareholders. So we leave a land of extremes of climate, scenery and occupations, abundantly endowed with the world’s goods, and a people blessed with strong common-sense, and a sturdy spirit of independence.

A country strong in war and strong in peace, but let us leave her with the thought in our minds of that lonely statue far up the ice-clad mountains; a statue of Peace.