A day in the life

Luminojos is not a Spanish word, but a mash-up of two Spanish words, luminosos, meaning shining, and ojos, meaning eyes, from the Argentine writer Julio Cortazar. It is also the name of the magnificent house where we have been for the past eight days, and where we will stay for about twenty more.

But Luminojos is not just the name of the house, it is an experience, it is an attitude, it is something you live. Thanks to the exceptional Max Mills, we are immersing ourselves fully in Luminojos but also in Chile. Another exceptional person we know, Mariana Lafont, uses her great blog Cocina Viajera to tell a story and then share a related recipe with the world - so what follows is in homage to her and to Cocina Viajera.

We found Max through WWOOFing, the organisation that puts volunteer workers in touch with organic farm managers, but instead of WWOOFing we became friends and Max chose to invite us to stay with him on that basis. So here we are in this incredible house, just a few kilometres from the epicentre of last year's Chilean earthquake (it was 6km offshore from Curanipe town).

Luckily, Luminojos suffered no more than a few cracked windows, but more houses than you can think bear witness to the fact so many people here were not so lucky. Forget the earthquake; the tsunami that followed shortly afterwards did the most devastating damage. Luminojos is perched on a 92m-high cliff so was safe, but in Curanipe Max showed us a vast meadowy expanse between the road we were driving on and the beach. Previously, it was never possible to see the ocean from the coast road, because hundreds of houses stood between the two. Now there is just vast meadowy expanse.

Everywhere we find the remnants of collapsed buildings, abandoned buildings, boats in the wrong place, even an entire house in the wrong place (which is so striking it is due to become the national monument to the disaster). On Thursday, we had lunch at a two-storey place called La Solucion; after the tsunami there was a saloon car on the roof.

But up on the cliff, we have a 170degree view of the South Pacific from our bed. We take two hours for breakfast. We have an hour or two surf practice every day. Max seems to know more or less everyone, and has done more or less everything. I mean, he's run his own vineyard, been Ripcurl distributor for Chile, written a book, has been to Antarctica twice, visited Easter Island more times than I have fingers and toes to count. In the kitchen there is a photograph of his dog with Jack Johnson. In his company we are learning so much about life, and particularly about Chile. He's an amazing guy who has a huge amount to give, not least in the culinary department. So here's a simple but delicious recipe for seafood soup with all the Chilean touches, from last Wednesday.

SEAFOOD SOUP A LA MAX MILLS

• 4 packs dry noodles (one fish, one veg, one beef, one chicken) OR small boiled potatoes from Chiloe Island, where more than 200 varieties grow
• 2 pots seafood
• 5 bulbs spring onion, chopped
• 5 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
• 1 red pepper, chopped
• Small bunch flat-leaved parsley
• Several teaspoons chilli sauce made from Mapuche merken chilli and olive oil, plus extra dry ground merken

Start with enormous fresh mussels cooked on the indoor open fire. Then mix all the above ingredients together, cover with boiling water then cover and leave for five minutes. Serve with grated reggiano cheese, black pepper, 360-million-year-old salt from the Bolivian salt flats at Uyuni, a cold glass of Punta Nogal 2010 sauvignon blanc from the Emiliana vineyard in Valle Central, Chile, and a soundtrack provided by the roaring Pacific. Finish with a shot of bitter Araucano spirit on an ice cube, then hot boldo-leaf tea from the garden.

Basically, life's pretty damn sweet.

SARAH