Back to Santiago

(Santiago)

Since today was only a travel day back to Santiago, I woke up at my leisure before heading to the bus station. This time I opted to walk there to save the hefty cab fare. Good thing I did, because I stumbled upon the Post Office on my way there and I was finally able to get some stamps. Woo Hoo! I sent myself a quick postcard from Valpo before jumping back on the bus to the Capitol.

(Cafe Cortado)

Back in Santiago I booked a B&B in Providencia. Upon arrival I was a little confused. It simply looked like a regular apartment building. There was nothing to distinguish that there was a B&B in there. Nothing. I was quickly beginning to doubt my choice, but my taxi was gone and I had pre-paid. I spied a weathered piece of paper that gave instructions for Marilu's Bed and Breakfast so I rang the bell. Turns out Marilu was a wonderful hostess. She was running a small B&B out of her apartment on the first floor of the building. Her living room had been turned into the reception area, complete with a dining table and a community computer. She offered three rooms with a shared bath but the rooms were spacious, private and clean. The bathroom was also immaculate. Marilu was also eager to tell me where to go and what to see in the city, offering me a map and directions.

(Santiago Metro)

It was my last day in Chile and I really didn't have an agenda so I took the metro to the end of the line where Marilu suggested there was a pretty mission and artist colony with a great view of the mountains. The artist colony was very touristy but it was interesting to walk around and look at the stalls filled with various handcrafts. I sat down for a beer and an empanada since I was famished.

(Lunch isn't complete without a cold cervesa.)

From there I just started wandering. It felt like I walked ten miles. I just walked and walked and walked some more, snaking my way through the outlying neighborhoods in Santiago. Eventually I ended up at another metro station and I hopped on, bound for another neighborhood Marilu had recommended. It was close to where I dined the first night and it was happy hour so I popped into the busiest bar for a cocktail. Turns out the most popular bar in that neighborhood was called "California" and they offered "California Favorites", none of which I've ever know to be a favorite in my state. But no bother. I had a fabulous glass of Sangria and free wifi so I was able to check email and call home.

(Pil Pil Shrimp)

I know I should have tried a different restaurant, but it was my last night in the city and I had such a good meal my first night in this neighborhood that I ended up in the same place for my final dinner, sitting out on the sidewalk and watching the world go by. I really like Chile and Santiago in particular. Yes, it's a huge city and cloaked in smog, but there is an energy here and the more I explore it the more I realize there is to find here. I'm sure I'll be back again someday, hopefully soon.

Finally Some Company

Yesterday I actually had an agenda. I was wandering with a purpose. My mission was to find someone organizing wine tours that I could hop on today. I mean, we're so close to the wine country I figured that I was bound to find someone trying to sell me a tour. Unfortunately, my search was futile. I found nothing, so instead I decided to explore more of Valpo today.

Looking at the map I considered what I wanted to see. Unfortunately, Pablo Neruda's house is closed on Mondays so that was out. There was a restaurant I read about in Bellavista that sounded promising for lunch and an acensor that was supposed to be "a must". But at the top of my list was finding a post office. I know it sounds silly to some but scoping out the nearest post office is always at the top of my list in any new country. When I arrived into Santiago it was the weekend, so the post office was closed. It was now my mission to find one here.

Why is finding a post office so important, you might ask. Well, it started with a shoebox. When I was a child I used to collect all of the postcards my parent's friends (and family) sent to them. It was teeming with images of faraway places that I wanted to visit someday. Then, when I turned 18 and joined Up With People and got to start to do my own traveling, I made it a habit of sending myself a postcard from every city we visited, no matter how big or small. I've continued that tradition on every trip since. Several years back I inherited one of my grandfather's old suitcases. That now sits in our dining room and contains all the postcards I've sent myself over the years. Occasionally I'm not so lucky and I have to settle for bringing them home in my suitcase instead of mailing them. But I try as hard as I can to mail them so they bear the postmark from where they belong. Yes, I'm a whack job and if you didn't know that already you must not know me at all.

Well, the post office on the map was no longer there. I was out of luck. But I was close to Bellavista so I headed toward the acensor to take me up the hill. When I found it, it was closed and looked like it had been for a long time. Strike Two. Okay. I guess I'm hoofing it. I swear the people who live here have got to be in the best shape ever because these hills are butt busters times ten. (Cheree, Ruthie, Michelle you know what I'm talking about!) And by the time I got to the top I forgot the name of the restaurant, but there was one that I thought might be the right one. As I approached I overheard an American voice telling a French couple that he had just dined there and had the best meal of his trip. I interrupted and asked him if it was that good. He said it was so I started to enter when he asked if he could join me and buy me a glass of wine perhaps. I could tell we were both starved for conversation so I conceded.

I'm glad I said yes. Joe and I spent the rest of the day together talking and wandering. His girlfriend was back at home and unable to come on this trip because she has two small kids and he was eager for a little company. He was at the end of his trip and spent most of it in solitude, like me, with the occasional breech by other tourists here and there. After lunch we started wandering the streets of Valpo. The street art here is amazing. Seriously, if I had more time I would do a book on it. Valpo is a colorful city to begin with, but the street art just takes it to another level.

Yesterday on the metro I spied a fish market near the water. I figured it might be closed by now, but thought it was worth checking out in case it wasn't. We winded our way through the streets, past the central market and made it to the water. I wasn't sure how far down it was so we just walked along the sea, when suddenly I saw something jumping out of the water trying to get atop an abandoned concrete dock, for lack of a better word. Then I saw something move on the dock. There were just about a ton of seals sunning themselves on the concrete and other seals were hurling themselves out of the water, attempting to join their friends.

Some of the younger seals were really struggling with the distance and were unable to make it up. But they kept trying. It was actually quite amazing to see the ones that did make it get up there. I've never seen anything like it. We must have sat there for half an hour watching nature in action. Oh, and the fish market was closed when we finally got there. The seals were cooler.

I didn't even realize how nice it is to be traveling with someone else, and more rightly, a male companion, than I did today. As a woman traveling alone there are just certain places I might like to go, and would at home, but abroad, especially in male dominated cultures like Latin America, I would never even consider going. But with a man at your side you can. I got to go to not one, but two local dive bars for a beer. It was awesome. It felt so authentic but I never would have dared step foot in them alone. Being with Joe gained me entry.

We ended the night with an amazing meal near my B&B and a nice bottle of wine. Talking about our past and future travels. It was wonderful to be able to share the day with a fellow traveler. Being older, and no longer in the hostel culture it becomes more difficult to meet other people while traveling. But traveling definitely makes me more open. There is no way in hell I would have given a stranger the time of day if I were at home. Somehow being in a foreign country demands you let your guard down. And I think that should be something we all carry everyday. Not just on the road.

To Valpo And Beyond

(Valparaiso)

Today I decided to leave Santiago and head to Valparaiso. It's an easy bus ride to the coast, only two hours each way, including stops. And the buses here are nicer than most domestic (American) airlines, with more legroom, seats that recline, foot rests, movies and even plugs at each seat. It's definitely a cheap, safe and easy way to travel around Chile. The overnight buses even have seats that recline all the way, turning into beds.

(View of the Pacific from the hills of Valparaiso)

Since Chile wasn't part of my original itinerary I don't really have a guide book for anything outside of Santiago. I ended up buying, what I thought was Lonely Planet Chile for my Kindle, but it turned out to only concentrate on Santiago. It's kind of liberating though, going it on your own. So, I arrived into Valpo (as it's known to the locals) without any idea what I was going to do or where I was going to stay. Based on my past travels, I expected to be greeted by a handful of people trying to get me to stay in their hotel or taxi drivers making commissions off tourists they drop off at various hotels. I was stunned to find none of this here.

(Downtown Valparaiso)

Instead, at the tourist office, they gladly gave me a map and told me to grab a taxi and head to Cerro Concepcion where I would find many great hotels in all price ranges. I'm still not sure, but I think the taxi driver took me on the scenic route to Concepcion. I'll never know for sure because the roads are essentially switchbacks winding their way up and down the steep hills that make up this city. All I do know is that it was a very expensive taxi ride, considering the limited distance we covered. He did give me a rather comprehensive tour of the downtown area, though. After stalling out twice, we finally made it to Concepcion and he pointed me in the direction of several hotels. I skipped the ones with views of the Pacific, knowing they would be out of my price range, and I settled on a quaint little B&B called Casa Latina. I liked the vibe I got from the woman running the place and it felt safe. Throughout she had also added many touches to the place to give it a trendy, modern feel.

(Vina del Mar)

After I settled into my room, I headed out for some lunch, realizing I hadn't eaten yet and I was starving. I ended up picking a restaurant with a terrace overlooking the ocean. Touristy, I know, but you couldn't beat the view. And actually, the food was pretty good. It seems that you absolutely can't go wrong with the fish here in Chile. It's pretty damn good everywhere. I had the most amazingly fresh octopus carpaccio ever. It was so tender. I want to eat this every day for the rest of my life. I even chatted up the couple from Boston sitting next to me. They were just in Valpo for the day and heading to Easter Island in the morning. Can you say "jealous"?

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(Octopus Carpaccio)

After lunch I took the metro to Vina del Mar, the next town up the coast. While a quaint town, it felt more touristy than Valpo. And I have to say I think I prefer Valpo better. I walked along the beach and put my feet in the icy waters of the Pacific and I intended to stay there to watch the sunset but I met an older Italian gentleman who seemed desperate for my company and insisted on walking me back to the metro. Don't worry, he was harmless. Just an old flirt. He was sweet enough, but insisted on making jokes about me not being married since my husband was back at home. He invited me to join him the next day for pizza and wine, and then asked if I had any children. When I answered, "No" he winked and said that if I joined him tomorrow he would give me one. That one took a minute for me to process since Spanish was neither of our first languages, but when it sunk in I politely declined his offer of pizza and descended the stairs to the metro.

(Vina del Mar)

(Vina del Mar)

While waiting for the metro, leaning against the wall, I felt the tunnel starting to shake. Thinking it was an oncoming train, I looked into the tunnel, both ways but saw nothing. The shaking continued. I was a bit confused but thought nothing of it until I got to dinner that evening and overheard some tourists talking about the earthquake. Then my server asked if I felt the earthquake today. Yep, another one. This one made the news back home and I quickly got a message from Marc. Thankfully I was fine, and they weren't reporting any damage, but reports were saying it was a magnitude 7.2, and it was a long one. I guess I brought a little something from home with me. Oops!

Rolling with the Punches

(Street Art in Bellavista)

I the middle of the night, my first one here in Santiago, I woke with a start. I felt an eerily familiar sensation and even still half asleep I knew what was happening at once - an Earthquake. It didn't last long, maybe 15 seconds or so. It's hard to evaluate how much time is passing after coming out of a deep sleep with a start at four in the morning. As I lie in bed I wasn't scared. I took a moment to evaluate the situation and realized that everything was fine so I rode it out in bed rather than in the door way. In moments it was over, no harm no foul, so I drifted off back to sleep. It was actually kind of fun. Yes, I know, I'm sick. When I woke up in the morning I wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality so I hopped on the computer. There wasn't anything in the news about it. But then I went to a site (Hey, I live in earthquake country. I know about these things.) that tracks earthquakes globally on a continual basis and lo and behold there was indeed an earthquake here last night. What was unexpected was the magnitude and epicenter: 5.1 centered right near Santiago proper. I made sure the folks back home knew I was okay, just in case something was reported on the news. Thankfully, there was no damage I could see in Santiago.

(Museo Belles Artes)

This morning I also decided to change hotels. This one is more expensive. It's actually another apartment rental, but it is so much nicer and much more secure. Now I don't have to lug my computer around everywhere I go. If I lived in Santiago I would actually love to live in this apartment full time. It's so clean and modern and centrally located. I lucked out finding this one.

(Lunch in Bellavista)

I spent most of the day exploring the city on foot. I've been walking absolutely everywhere. I really think it's the best way to see and feel the city. I started at the Art Museum, which is housed in a gorgeous colonial building with a small but quite fine art collection, including some modern exhibits. There was a war propaganda exhibit that was especially intriguing including everything from posters by Norman Rockwell urging Americans to buy war bonds to Maoist propaganda posters from Vietnam, similar to ones we have hanging in our house. After the museum I was starving so I made my way across the river into Barrio Bellavista, known for it's shops, bars and restaurants. Here I had lunch and spent my time people (and llama) watching.

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

(Cerro Santa Lucia reflected in a high rise.)

In the afternoon I decided to climb to the top of Cerro Santa Lucia to get a good look at the urban sprawl of the city. It's more of a public park on a hill than anything, although there is a castle at the top. Here children play, and tourists, like myself, seek out a moment of peace from the noise of the traffic below. Unfortunately the castle was closed so I couldn't go all the way to the top but I still got a good view.

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

(Cerro Santa Lucia)

Back at the base of the hill, I sat in a plaza with the locals to read a little. It seems all the city's plazas and parks are teeming with life on the weekends. I continued to wander, discovering a crowded walk street that led me to the Plaza des Armas. The Plaza was overflowing with people, happy on a Saturday afternoon. There were children vying for balloons, people dancing to live music and artists painting for the tourists. The sun was starting to fall so I decided to indulge in a movie, justifying it by trying to improve my Spanish.

(A clown entertaining the crowd on the walk street.)

(Plaza des Armas)

After the movie I walked back to Barrio Bellavista to grab some dinner and do some more people watching. Bellavista is even more lively at night, when the moon rises. Here people are dressed to the nines, ready to drink and dance the night away. My waiter even asked me to join him at a dance club across the street after his shift, and while I know Marc wouldn't mind, I politely declined. Seeing the people lined up to get in I felt sorely underdressed. I know, I know. I should have gone but I'm okay with not going. I still had a great day in the city.

Onward to Chile

I finished my Spanish classes with Anna this morning. I was surprised that I actually graduated from the first level this week. And I have the certificate to prove it. I even learned how to use the future tense. The next level focuses on speaking in the past tense. I think I need more practice speaking in the present and memorizing my verbs before I move onto the next level. We ended the class with a walk and a coffee in San Martin Park, even ending a little early which gave me time to grab a little lunch before catching my flight to Santiago.

They weren't joking. The layer of smog is thick as you begin to approach Santiago. It's reminicent of the Los Angeles of my youth. Thankfully, we no longer have days like this at home. This city has a completely different energy, of course. It's impossible to compare Santiago and Mendoza. I suppose the real comparisons will come after I've been able to spend some real time in BA. The largest difference, at the moment, is the accent. The Argentines have a very distinct accent, that's different from the rest of Latin America, changing their double Ls into a J sound. But here in Chile they speak Castilian, or so my taxi driver told me. And yes, their accent does sound a more similar to the Spanish from Spain but I'm not noticing a use of the "vosotros" here.

This city is massive and quite cosmopolitan. And though Santiago is huge and covered in a layer of smog, it's surprisingly clean. Driving through here I've noticed more of a Latin American influence overall than the European influence felt in Argentina. Not to say this isn't an international city. It is, just on first sight it's more difficult for me to blend in here.

I tried to settle into my hostel, and while it's nice, clean, quiet and I have my own room I don't quite feel it's secure enough to leave my computer and passport behind. My room is on the ground level with a large window that opens out onto the internal courtyard. While nice, not very safe, especially with the cracked out woman I saw near the front desk as I was checking in. I think it's safer to keep my valuables on my person for the moment, which is quite inconvenient, not to mention heavy.

My plan was to take the metro to a restaurant I read about in Barrio Providencia but after about 5 minutes on the street with my backpack full of valuables I thought better of it. I'm already conspicuous as it is with my blue eyes, fair skin and blonde hair. Plus I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched by a guy who kept inching closer to me at every corner even after I would move away through the crowd. He was probably harmless but if there is one thing I have learned while traveling it's to trust your instincts so I hopped in a cab instead. Funny thing is, I ended up having to give my cab drivers directions both there and back since I mapped it out and they got lost both ways. But dinner made everything worth it. The fresh fish here is divine. I mean, really, can you beat fresh Chilean Sea Bass in Chile? I don't think so.

Oh, and Lori, this Pisco Sour is for you!