Todos Arriba, Vina

After Valparaiso, we went to the coastal resort town of Vina del Mar, one of the premier vacation destinations in all of South America. High-rise condos line the main beach where bathing beauties from all over Latin America sun themselves and work on their tans.

We were there in the height of the summer tourist season to see the Vina del Mar music festival, a weeklong affair that attracts the greatest artists in Latin music and from around the world; everyone from Julio Iglesias to Pearl Jam has played there at one point. To say that the festival is a big deal would be an understatement—it’s the ONLY thing on television for the entire week. This year there was particular interest in the selection of the Reina (Queen) del Festival. The crown ended up going to a blonde Argentine bombshell who had undergone… uh… extensive silicon injections to certain parts of her anatomy. When she won, she coyly removed her bikini top for the small army photographers present. The next day, she was on the cover of every tabloid holding her a left breast that was (literally) the size of her head. She was later spotted with Nicolas Massu, the Chilean tennis player and national hero who won 2 gold medals at Athens. The press made much of the fact that they went home together awfully early (about 3:30AM). Suspiciously early, in fact. Rumors continue to swirl.

The night we attended the festival was Chilean night. The main acts included Alberto Plaza, an aging but still handsome singer of romantic ballads; Congreso, an intellectual band fronted by a Sigmund Freud look-alike that blends rock, jazz, and indigenous, music; Los Hermanos Bustos, a group of older men in cowboy hats who play Mexican-style ranchera music, and Lucybell, a decent but unspectacular rock group with a rabid local fan base. There were also several other acts from all over the world that played everything from modern pop to traditional folcloricos. There were two acts that were the highlights in my mind. The first were Los Hermanos Bustos, who completely rocked out. It may seem strange that music based so heavily around the accordion can rock so hard, but trust me, it can. Everyone (yes, me included) was dancing in the aisles, and when the masters of ceremonies finally made Los Hermanos leave the stage, the audience roared and swore with disapproval.

The other highlight was a Spaniard who appeared in the international competition. He only sang one song, and I don’t even remember his name. His act, though, was priceless. He was obviously a good-looking guy, but by the way he moved it was clear that he thought he was god’s gift to sexy. He thrust his suit jacket over his shoulders, then whipped it off and twirled it through the air, revealing a tight white tank-top underneath. Before the song was over, he literally ripped off the tank top in a blaze of passion. Women in the audience squealed, and as I looked around I could see that lots of people were trying hard just to keep themselves from laughing. But I couldn’t help but cheer him on. At the very least, he dances better than I do.