Chile’s capital, Santiago, is at first glance a collection of low buildings underneath a leaden sky, kept dreary by pollution, clouds and rain. The sky is one colour – light grey. The cold gets into your bones and turned my fingers blue as I typed.
Our ominous welcome featured students rioting about free education resulting in cars ablaze, traffic jams and tear gas. By the time we walked the half hour to dinner through the middle of the aftermath the ferocity had petered out, leaving the hallmarks of shattered glass, fresh graffiti, piles of flaming rubbish and skittish riot police milling around ground zero. Lauren copped eyefuls of tear gas on her trip via the subway to the police station (she needed a police report for insurance claims on her missing iPad), the remains still burning and making her eyes water. It’s an interesting smell that sticks to your clothes too. Our walk home through the volatile neighbourhoods had us chiming in on the side of the students, clapping or clanging on fence posts along with their banging on pots and pans from their balconies. Even in the midst of all this, as a group we didn’t feel threatened. Maybe gringas just don’t get it. Anyway, dinner at Galindo was divine and my low cut top was of particular interest to the waiter, Ernesto, who barely once looked me in the eyes.
The warmest room is the kitchen and we embraced the hostel life, crowding into the small space to cook meals with the usual mishmash of pots, pans and semi-sharp knives. Also, when you can make your own food, you tend to mix your own drinks too. Some serious cuba libres and vinos blanco y tinto were consumed over various nights with freshly-minted friends living at the hostel. It’s always fun to let your hair down, perhaps I went a little overboard by giving myself a fat lip. I’m still wondering how I managed it, while I attempt to talk without a lisp. I think a bed post bit me.
Out and about during the days, we walked through the shopping district, the Plaza de Armas, upmarket neighbourhoods with lush parks and classical architecture and cosy cafes. Frankie and I had a long lunch at Cafe Utopia, much to the amusement of the locals crowded into the tiny space with us. We answered the usual questions and got napkin roses when they left. Yay for local interaction.
No trip to Santiago is complete without a day spent in coastal Valparaiso and Viña del Mar. Teaming up with new tour buddies, seven of us took on a private tour to these interesting and colourful cities outside of Santiago past the Casablanca wine region.
Valparaiso is a port and naval city, with an important and prolific art scene. Brightly painted buildings are works of art even without their masterpiece facades done by local art students – with permission of course. The are over 30 hills in Valparaiso several of which are made more accessible by cable cars or funiculars. It was a surprise to find Australian wattle flowering at the top of the one we rode up for views over the beach and beyond. We’ve gotten used to the proliferation of eucalyptus trees taking over the landscape since Ecuador but this was the first wattle, locally known as “aromas” because of its strong scent.
We took a walk around the main square, past the navy HQ – a building perhaps unintentionally but still successfully, made into a lovely several-shades-of-blue-confectionary, I felt it belonged in Willy Wonka’s factory. We dodged the marriage proposals and protestations of love from fishmongers while wandering through the so-fresh-it’s-still-moving seafood market alley.
Our guide, Enzo and driver, Monica promised us a full day of the sights and smells – good and bad. To illustrate this promise we made a stop at the fishing dock where wives of fisherman prepare the catch by gutting and filleting and then throwing back to the sea all the waste. The hundreds of sea gulls, pelicans and other seabirds, along with a few sea lions make the most of the bounty, braving the choppy conditions against the retainer wall and rocks to grab a bite. The ocean had grown angry over the week, massive waves coming ashore and dumping sand on roads and in low level garages, taking out boardwalks and churning the water into giant barrels. Walking along the waterfront gave us a constant soundtrack of barraging water, building and plunging over and over again. A far cry from the placid postcard image we anticipated.
No view in Valparaiso normally goes without including some kind of street art and most of it is amazing. It would seem a clever way to distract viewers from the “landmines” of dog shit literally all over the city. At last count there are about 70,000 street dogs and they all survive by the goodwill of people feeding them. It’s been deemed they are good for morale of the population.
Lunch options were fish, seafood or calamari to go with the sublime pisco sour. We had a complementary ceviche made with merluza to start and I finished with salmon and salad. I guess, when in Valparaiso…
Galleries, recycled shops, arts and handicraft boutiques abound and we sticky beaked in a few. Nice wares but always that question of how to get it home. The only thing I really would have liked was a hand knitted coffee mug cosy with wooden toggle button – never let a coffee go cold again!
Viña del Mar is next door to Valparaiso and is the upmarket side of town with a working flower clock donated by the Swiss and classy restaurants and hotels. You can see how it would be a popular place to escape the Santiago smog in summer.
As we bid farewell to Santiago my only regret was missing the trip to the art museum with Ivy and Katie which meant I missed the full frontal nudity in statue and photograph form. Bugger.
