August 23, 2012, Chile. We had planned to skip La Serena, but Claudio’s friend insisted we visit—I’m glad we did. La Serena is the second-oldest city founded in Chile, though none of the original structures remain. What stands today are elegant neoclassical and Belle Époque buildings, most dating from the 1800s. A few churches, dating back to the 1700s, survived the pirate raids that sacked the city—one of the more infamous being led by Sir Francis Drake. It’s always curious how one person’s criminal becomes another’s hero.

In the 1950s, a Chilean president born in La Serena devoted a decade of his life to “Plan Serena,” an ambitious urban renewal effort reminiscent of the changes made in Santiago earlier in the century. His efforts paid off. La Serena now draws millions of tourists each year—both Chilean and international—thanks to its beauty, cleanliness, and well-planned layout.

I was encouraged to visit the Elqui Valley, which stretches east from La Serena for about 40 miles. This lush and spiritual valley is the birthplace of Gabriela Mistral, the renowned poet and the first Latin American woman to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. I visited her homestead and the one-room schoolhouse where she was first educated and later taught. In nearby Vicuña, next to the modest adobe house where she was born, there’s a remarkable museum dedicated to her life. It includes fragments of her poetry, her personal reading collection, articles of daily life, and a detailed timeline of her many accomplishments.

I hadn’t realized the full extent of her international impact—she served as an ambassador and also helped restructure Mexico’s educational system. Although she lived much of her life abroad—in Italy, Mexico, and eventually Rhode Island—her heart remained in her native valley and with the children she so deeply believed in. She even donated all the proceeds of her Nobel Prize, along with her possessions, to the children of Monte Grande, where she had once studied. Her words, full of strength and reverence for nature, resonated with me. She was a deeply spiritual person—rooted in biblical teachings like the Psalms of Solomon, but later drawn to theosophy and Buddhism. Pablo Neruda met her as a teenager in Punta Arenas, where she was teaching and promoting education. He gifted her books, especially Russian authors like Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Dostoevsky, which she loved for their portrayal of life on the Russian steppe and their insights into the human soul.

A short distance from La Serena lies Coquimbo, a gritty, authentic fishing village and port just four miles away. Though less polished, it has its own charm, especially in the two touristic streets that lead to Barrio Inglés, where a British ferry company once set up headquarters in the 1800s. I enjoyed a delicious local lunch of casuela—hearty soup with corn, meat, rice, and spices—and fried fish.

We ended our visit on a high note with a free classical concert by the University of La Serena orchestra, joined by a guest violinist from Germany, Michaela (I never caught her last name), who was perhaps 25. Her performance—memorized pieces by Beethoven—was outstanding.

From La Serena, we made our way to Copiapó, an inland mining center that had been recommended to me. It turned out to be pricey and underwhelming, so we quickly caught another bus to Caldera, near Bahía Inglesa—a beach town I had also been told not to miss. We found a room for 15,000 pesos (about $32 USD), and Claudio struck up a long conversation with the man at the front desk.

On Sunday, while Claudio played flute at the fish market, I walked to Bahía Inglesa. It was stunning. I was tempted to sleep right there on the beach, but we had a 2 p.m. bus to Antofagasta. Reluctantly, I gathered my things and made my way back to Caldera. We didn’t arrive in Antofagasta until 9:45 p.m.—a long journey, but worth it.