Santiago de Chile

My South American odyssey comes to an end tonight while I currently loiter in Santiago, Chile, waiting for my flight to Auckland, New Zealand. I have spent the last week in Chile's capital after leaving Mendoza and Argentina last Monday. The border crossing was one of the more intense in South America. Chileans are very protective of their apparently fragile agricultural equilibrium, and visitors are not allowed to bring any foodstuffs over the border. An 18-year-old guy on my minibus had brought over some ornamental mate (Argentinian tea) vessels that are made with real cow hooves. The Chileans had something of a problem with these. He was forced to watch in dismay as the border cops smashed them open with a machete to see if there were any bags of cocaine inside. There was not. They also strip-searched him and delayed our trip to Santiago by an hour. They did not find my Tetley teabags, thankfully, or else I may have found myself an audience with the President.

Santiago is a fairly nondescript South American capital with an albeit lovely climate and a dramatic setting on the lip of the Andes. After a day looking around the city, I went to nearby Valparaiso, a Pacific port two hours away. It is unusual in that there is no grid plan to much of the city, with a maze of colourful, colonial buildings scattered all over the steep hills that surround it, leaving a thin band of flat land between the hills and the ocean. A nice place to wander around. Then I went to Vina del Mar, a seaside resort just outside Valparaiso, where it was too foggy and cold to go to the beach, but I did find a nice art gallery and a park to walk around in.

The day before that I went to the Chile v Uruguay World Cup qualifier, the biggest game on the continent that night as both sides have a good chance of passage to South Africa next year. Sadly, I seem to be luckless in my choice of matches in South America, as it was 0-0 and a bit of a damp squib. That is now 180 minutes of goalless boredom. The game was always going to be a bit dour after Chile´s left-back saw red after about 15 minutes. It was a raucous atmosphere though, some beloved flares, anti-Argentinian songs, and ex-Man Utd player Diego Forlan for the opposition. And I had a good laugh with the taxi driver on the way there when the hilarious news came over on the radio that Maradona´s Argentina side were soundly thrashed 6-1 in Bolivia. Serves him right for BEING A CHEAT.

Skip the next paragraph if you hate cricket.

And today, my last day on the continent, I went to a cricket match. Yes, cricket. In South America. I think it is fair to say Santiago is probably as far away as you can imagine, both geographically and culturally, from anything cricket, but there are a number of ex-pats and keen Chileans who put on weekend matches and knock-abouts. They are even ICC-affiliated and can take part in World Cup qualifiers. They were a friendly bunch who appreciated our interest in their team. We were even introduced to the head of all things ICC in Chile, a guy from Vina del Mar named Pato (meaning "duck" in English, the most unfortunate of names for a cricketer). Me and a friend spent a pleasant afternoon watching the match with a stunning backdrop of the snow-peaked Andes, as the Grange took on 11 from Vina del Mar, their team including a few girls. As the Grange were a man short today I was invited to come in at 11. Thankfully they saw out their 35 overs only eight down, and, not having picked up a bat since I was about 14, I was spared an embarrassing return to the crease (i.e. being castled by a Chilean girl) and a potential return to A&E. Still, it was both lovely and surreal to spend my last day on this continent hearing the dreamy sound of leather on willow. The sun never sets on the British empire, etc etc.

So, New Zealand. They talk English there, right?

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