Monday, 21 October 2013

Arriving in Chile

Eight months down, two to go! In the past I've already felt ready to leave a country but I feel like I could spend my remaining two months in New Zealand. This is partly because there is so much to do and see here and because it is so easy and comfortable to travel around - I’m not looking forward to the return of the 24 hour buses. What I am looking forward to where they will be taking me: desert, mountains, ancient ruins, the biggest rainforest in the world! Eight months ago when I landed in Mumbai, South America seemed too far away to be possible. It seemed even more impossible fifteen years ago when I wanted to live off coconuts on a river boat on the Amazon, with a giant otter and pink dolphin for friends (ok, maybe that actually is impossible).

Whether I can believe it or not the plane takes off, the safety instructions are in Spanish and the interactive map marks Santiago as my destination. When the flight attendant notices that I'm trying to learn some Spanish he insists on speaking it the entire time... and he expects me to as well. This is fine until its 11:00 Chile time but 3:00 in morning New Zealand time and he won't give me any orange juice until I pronounce 'naranja' correctly.

We land in Santiago at 12:00 - five hours before we left New Zealand. The day I gained crossing the international date line is quickly lost sleeping in a beautiful dorm room with high ceilings, wooden floors, pastel coloured walls and a balcony overlooking a plaza. My guide book describes Santiago, and Chile in general, as a very European country and not what travellers expect from South America. Chile is the most progressive county in South America and the president wants it to be part of the 'first world' by 2020. They are certainly well on their way in central Santiago. Apart from the surrounding Andes mountains there is nothing to distinguish it from any other European city and, walking around it myself, I am not very impressed.


Supermarket workers protesting for higher wages. They have been 
camping on the side of the (lovely) river for forty-five days. 

It is on an amazing 'tour-for-tips' that I get the most out of the city. Our giude, Philippe, has an amazing accent - he sounds like Speedy Gonzales. He tells us the (long and complicated) history of the city, points out important buildings and some of the many statues of Spanish conquistadors. Our group gains a following of stray dogs looking attention. They, like all the others I've seen, are friendly and well fed. Apparently in the winter it is hard to find one not wearing a hand knitted jumper, and in the park there are 'public' dog kennels.



The view of Santiago for Cerro (Hill) San Cristobal 

In the cafe district Philippe shows us where we can get good coffee (coffee in Chile is notoriously bad) and takes us for our first 'pisco sour' a drink that tastes a lot like lemmoncello. On a night out it is customary to drink one or two pisco sours, then move to 'piscola' - pisco with coke. Still jet lagged I attempt to get an early night, despite the cheers and exclamations coming from the houses either side of me, the street below and the hostel common room. There is world cup qualifying football match between Ecuador and Chile and it seems that everyone except me is watching. From the chants of 'Chi Chi Chi, Le Le Le, Vi-Va- Chi-Le' through out the night, I think Chile won.





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