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Published: April 3rd 2010
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It's the journey they say not the destination, well in this case the journey has been more of a thrill then the destination. It all started with the escape from that jewel of the Pacific that I call home at the moment. You know it's not going to be the best when you have to be checked in manually as the computers are down at the airport. Those familiar with where I live will find this unsurprising, but after an hour sitting on the tarmac waiting for the paperwork to bear some resemblance to who and what was on the plane it was all starting to wear thin for the flight crew let alone the passengers. But to their credit the flight crew managed it well and eventually saw the funny side of things. The offer of the first round of drinks on the airline made the rest of us who were a little concerned about how fast we'd have to run to make the connecting flight a little more merrier too.
Fortunately I was sensible enough to book the flights as one so the transition to my connecting flight to the land of the long white cloud was seemless.
Even if there was barely enough time to grab a couple of bottles of bribery at the duty free on the way through. Part of the reason for the 14 hour layover in Auckland was to catch up with a couple of good friends from the island. One of which was kind enough to drive from one side of Auckland to the other to pick me up, ply me with the finest of NZ chards before two hours of shut eye before heading into town for the yellow fever jab (something that was just too hard to organise on the island). Then it was off to unveil me as the surprise guest for brunch with the wontok, a very pleasant surprise indeed. Next stop Santiago.
There was a bit of intrepidation going to Santiago so soon after the earth moved, but after a bit of research it all sounded ok. And ok it was, with a surprisingly easy transit from the arrival at the airport all the way to the Hostel. Considering you buy the ticket for transfer bus at the counter inside then walk out of the terminal to the tent that is now the arrivals hall proper
La moneda Palace
A bit of a chequered history this one, but it´s now back in the hands of the public. where everyone is lined up waiting. The tent out the front is due to that little bit of earthshaking a month earlier, then it´s the transfer bus straight to the hostel. In fact I'm rateing it as one of the better transfers I've had whilst jaunting around the place. But even with an amazingly efficient public transport system that has trains just like the ones in Paris the place hasn´t grabbed me at all. Two nights was just enough, not that there was much sleeping given I´m still not sure what timezone I´m in. Plus the place I´m staying at is a tad noisier than expected, especially the after hours door bell.
But there´s been some novel Chilien experiences to get used to here, like the multistep process to buy a pepsi. It´s a four step process - I choose pepsi through glass doors of fridge, girl gets pepsi from fridge and takes it over to write out a receipt, girl motions me to take receipt to cashier, hand receipt to cashier, cashier takes my money gives back change and another receipt, go to original girl again and she gives me the pepsi. It just couldn´t be any easier
really, especially with my high level of understanding of the Spanish language.
Travelling on what could be termed the Lonely Planet abridged package tour I decided to take the dining experience from the pages of this little journal. Conveniently the recommended steak place was just up the road from the hostel. Having a commanding understanding of the Spanish language by now after 24 hours in the country I look down the menu and well have absolutely no idea what is what. Fortunately for me one of the waiters went to high school in Wollongong so he was happy to guide me through the selections. One of the bonuses that I´ve discovered about these parts is that they sell wine by the half bottle. This makes life much more interesting given the incredible range of the finest reds that are available including my soon to be favourite new red grape variety, malbec. Plus the steak has lived up to the expectations that everyone had told me to expect. Absolutely melt in the mouth stuff. Too bad the coffee tasted like french swampwater, but you can´t have everything.
Next stop home of the malbec grape, Mendoza.
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