It's Chile out there

---

We had the longest day of our lives on Saturday, weighing in at a long and testing 40 hours, as we flew back in time from Auckland across the International Date Line to Santiago. Not only did we go east and end up in The West, but we arrived in Chile five hours before we left New Zealand. We managed to source some good exit seats on the 11 hour flight across the Pacific but Catherine did have to sit next to two slightly odd smelling, wine guzzling light aircraft enthusiasts. I thought my Dad was keen but these two spent almost the whole flight discussing the various merits of different single engine Cessnas and getting a bit too excited by some pictures of naked young planes at the back of their magazine. Still, they were better than a bloke called Graham who I had to endure on the Sydney - Christchurch flight (but that‘s another story).

After touching down in our final continent we were pleased to be allowed freely through immigration and customs, whilst the Americans had to pay $143 each. Tired and slightly confused, we got a shuttle bus downtown to our hostel and managed to catch some Six Nations rugby complete with Spanish commentary. The day seemed to go on and on and it got worse when we realised that Catherine’s small rucksack was nowhere to be seen. We decided it must have been left in the minibus and luckily we managed to get the guy from the hostel to phone them up and ask for it back. They said they’d call back in half an hour but, as we have come to expect from the laid back Chileans, they hadn’t called back after four hours so we decided to take affirmative action and get back down to the airport ourselves. It was slightly challenging trying to explain our predicament to the shuttle people with almost no Spanish skills and well into our 38th hour of the day but we got the message across and they were, happily, very friendly and helpful. A little bloke did some calling around and half an hour later we were tearfully and joyfully reunited with la mochila, which silly old Catherine had left on the minibus in her zombie-like state.

Still trying to dodge the jet lag, but with little success, the next day we met with my friend from old school days, Nicola, who is now living out in Latin America, and coincidentally happened to be in Santiago for a few days. We caught up over lunch and then she took us on a walking tour of Santiago, armed with her fluent Spanish and professional tour guide skills. Nicola is now a tour guide for various journeys around the continent so it was an ideal introduction to South America, and really good to see her. We also had dinner with her on Monday night and she introduced us to the joys of Pisco Sour, a tangy mind blowing aperitif.

On Monday we went back to school and started a three day crash course in Spanish. It was just us two in our little class with our excellent bearded teacher Miguel, who shovelled Español down our throats for six hours each day. Although it felt like we were commuting each morning (we’re supposed to be on holiday) it was actually good fun and we did learn a lot. The problem is that although we can now say things v-e-r-y s-l-ow-l-y, when anyone talks back to us in Speedy Gonzalez Chilean-Spanish we have next to no hope and rely on the old classic puzzled expression. By the time we graduated, Catherine had assumed the position of resident ‘bring an apple for Miguel’ type keen geek and I was on my way to lines and a lengthy spell of detention.

We’d been in Santiago for a long time compared to any of the other places we’ve been in our trip so far, and it started to feel like home, so when we decided to actually spend a day sightseeing it was a bit of a weird feeling. It is quite a laid back sort of place despite its huge size, and we’ve come across some of the most friendly people of the trip so far. There are some cool old buildings and cobbled streets next to big modern high rise buildings. We took the funicular railway up the Cerro San Cristobal, a big hill which overlooks the city centre, and from where there are - or at least would be - amazing 360° views of Santiago. Skyscrapers filled the ground as far as the eye could see but unfortunately the eye couldn’t see that far because of the smog lurking over the city. The Andes tower over Santiago but they were no more than a blurred outline due to the off-white mist being expelled from below. Just above the smog we could see the snow capped peak of a huge mountain, seemingly floating on the dense layer of gaseous dirt. The city views continued from the Teleférico cable car that flies over the park and also from the over priced hill top bar, where the only thing they let me have was some German beer.

Yesterday we took a bus over to Valparaíso, a port city to the west of Santiago, the so called ‘Jewel of the Pacific’. The city has a series of Ascensores, or funicular railways, to carry tourists and locals up the steep banks that surround the city centre. The first one we went up was accessed through a 160m long dank and dirty tunnel before we were lifted above the city in an old elevator. We emerged out to views across a pretty deprived area of the city and beyond to the ocean. We’d paid for a return trip to take us back down but were accosted by a Chilean couple visiting from Santiago, who enlisted our help as their bodyguards. We were informed that safety in numbers is the best policy in that area and had no option but to walk with them back down the hill. We’d inadvertently wandered into one of the most deprived areas, with among the highest crime and unemployment rates in the country. It was though really interesting to walk among the old residential area, with it’s stone and tin houses, despite being a bit on edge and holding on very tight to our bags. We survived that unscathed though and walked quite quickly away, fully aware that we looked like ideal mugging victims. We found the rest of the city to be a bit more comfortable, with some decorative Spanish colonial buildings, and we took two more trips on Ascensores, both giving brilliant views of the historic harbour and the patchwork of houses packed into the hills all around.

We’ve had a few problems trying to get cash out in Chile and they intensified when we returned back to Santiago and tried to get some cash out from one of the ATMs at the bus station. For apparently no reason, the machine decided to swallow our cash card. With who’s permission or with what right I have no idea but it has left us in a bit of a position. After it swallowed up our card it just stood there looking really smug and arrogant, making me want to hit it right in the face. Having been the victim of fraud on one account whilst in Thailand and now my other account rendered useless, our cash flow options are seriously limited. We’re on pretty much our last fall back option - short of grovelling to the British Embassy - so hopefully it’s third time lucky, or we could be back across the Atlantic a bit sooner than anticipated. Unless I take up Catherine’s suggestion and try to get a bit of money from dancing every night in go-go bars.

We’ve now arrived in Mendoza, across the border in Argentina. One of the best bus journeys so far, up and across the Andes along winding roads snaking their way up through cactuses (or is it cacti?) and through a long tunnel to the border. It looked like something out of a mountainous Cowboys and Indians movie. The border crossing was the most slack yet - no worries about checking bags (a woman went round just squeezing a few to make it look like they gave a damn) and the Argentine Immigration officials were clad in shell suit trousers and t-shirts. Maybe it was ‘wear what you like’ day in the high Andes. The few hours after the border were just as good as the first few, and we followed an old railway line through a deep rocky valley to the foot of the Andes. With our fingers and toes crossed, we managed to get a bit of cash out of an Argentine ATM without Catherine’s card being eaten, and got a taxi to the hostel. After being told off for slamming the taxi door too hard we went to check in at our pre-booked hostel, only to be told there was no room for us. Just what we needed at the end of a generally rubbish 24 hours.

Now we’re looking forward to getting out and about in the Mendoza sun over the next couple of days and sampling some of the fine local wine and huge huge Argentine steaks.


Stay safe

Nic

---

Photos

Us in Valparaiso
With a little child

Where are the Andes?
At the end of my armies!