Home, James, and don't spare the horses!

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Hey there everyone, sorry it's been so long since the last blog entry - Buenos Aires was so busy that we never quite got around to writing one while there. This one, therefore, will be a two-part entry written by both of us: the first part covering Santiago, Valparaiso and Mendoza and written by Jon; and the second covering Buenos Aires and written by Fern.

Part I

We left the balmy warmth of San Pedro de Atacama at twilight, a gorgeous glowing sunset accompanying us for the first part of our 23-hour coach ride to Santiago. The journey passed relatively quickly and comfortably and before long the next pink sundown was signalling our approach to the Chilean capital. Unfortunately it was less easy meeting up with Ruth, my sister, as Santiago has half-a-dozen different coach stations. After a couple of slightly frantic phone calls ("I'm by bay 15, where are you?!" "I'm by bay 15 too, I don't see you...!") we realised we were in different places. After eventually meeting up we made our way to the hostel and then went out for dinner with Ruth and her friend Tom, an Australian student who was also on his year abroad. We were assured that the place they took us was pretty special and it was worth waiting an hour to be seated; it certainly was, and the wait gave us the perfect opportunity to sample some of Chile's national drink, the Pisco Sour. For those of you who have never heard of this delight, pisco is grape brandy, traditionally produced from the 'poultice' of grape flesh left after the grapes have been pressed in the winemaking process. A Pisco Sour is made by adding sugar and lemon juice to the pisco, and though quite small and unassuming in appearance, packs quite a punch! After our platter of assorted meats and some delicious desserts, we rolled home, very tired and suitably inebriated.

We spent nearly a week in Santiago, and though we'd already done some chilling in San Pedro we took the opportunity to do some more, relaxing at Ruth's flat with her and her friends and mooching around the city. We took a walk with the dog that she'd been looking after, a VERY excitable schnauzer (a familiar experience, but this one was even crazier than Sammy), and walked past the government buildings, the national museums, and the main square. Particularly notable was the Cathedral, a wonderful piece of well-preserved colonial architecture with a great many icons and side-chapels down its length, all heavily gilted, and a very impressive-looking organ. Ruth also took us to a couple of her other favourite parts of the city, including the two hills, or 'cerros' in Spanish, of San Cristobel and Santa Lucia. The first is accessed by a steep funicular railway and at the top is a large statue of the Virgin Mary, similar to the Cristo Blanco we saw above Cusco. We went up just after dark, and got a wonderful view of the lit-up city spread out before us, as well as the spotlit statue. The second hill is the site of the fort that the colonising Spanish built as soon as they had captured the city - again the views are wonderful, and going up in the day enabled us to see the mountain ranges that surround the city on three sides. Due to tiredness and poor planning we didn't manage to go up the mountains properly; a day skiing was deemed too expensive but it would've been nice to have played in the snow. Still, we finished our time in the city with a lovely French meal and a visit to an interesting photography exhibition at the museum of national culture, built under the government palace.

Under Pinochet, the government of Chile was moved from Santiago to the coastal city of Valparaiso, his hometown, and it was there that we visited next. Valpo, as it is known, is a fairly major port, but is also an artistic and bohemian haven, full of brightly painted houses and amazing murals, all linked together down nannigoat alleys and 'pasajes'. Our hostel was down one of these backstreets which was in the process of being dug up; still, its relative inaccessibility made it a very peaceful place to stay. We went out searching for food, and ended up doing a fair deal of exploring on the way; after gradually working our way to the bottom of the hill our accommodation was on, we found somewhere that wasn't completely packed out with kids and locals. The local speciality is a dish called Chorillanas, which comes in either a carne (meat) or mariscos (seafood) option - the basic idea is a plate heaped high with chips and then lots of grilled meat, or mussels, calamari, prawns etc. Needless to say, I went to bed very satisfied... The next day was mostly spent wandering about the town, looking at all the amazing murals and graffiti art (photo album of which to be found on facebook shortly), and climbing up the various 'cerros' that rise up from the bay. We were told of a bus service that would take us on a tour of these but somehow we ended up on one that took us far our of town the other direction, to the local naval hospital.

After a second night in Valparaiso we took an early bus to Mendoza, the Argentine city just the other side of the Andes from Santiago. On the map it doesn't look far but crossing the mountains takes quiet some time, as does standing about in the freezing cold at the border crossing having one's bag searched. Still, the scenery was incredible, and I spent much of the journey wishing we'd hired a car so I could have driven the road myself. After a couple of summers spent touring round Europe I've developed rather a taste for winding mountain roads, and these ones really took the cake. Unfortunately the full day we'd timetabled to spend in Mendoza was a Sunday, so the wineries tour we'd hoped to do was unavailable. We contented ourselves with pottering around the city, having a leisurely lunch and witnessing some sort of local dance troupe performing in the main plaza. Mendoza has a vast public park so we visited that in the afternoon: Fern decided to go to the zoo, where the conditions were thankfully far better than those in Peru, and I climbed up the hill, for a view over the city. The urban vista was rather disappointing but the main tourist attraction at the top is a large sculpture and many plaques commemorating the Argentine War of Independence, and one of its main heroes, General Jose San Martin. In every Argentine city there will be at least one Plaza and probably several streets named after him, as well as numerous other war heroes of his era. As the day ended it was time for our overnight journey to Buenos Aires, the final stop on our trip.

Part II

After realising that neither of us are ever likely to be well-off enough to fly first class, we decided to splash out and get the next best thing, a first class coach. We'd heard rumours of the luxurious coaches in Argentina, and after some nightmarish journeys (12 hours with the windows frozen over from the inside anyone?) we felt we'd go for some hard-earned comfort. The coach itself was the most decadent experience of my entire life and has ensured that I will never ever get on a National Express again (despite being in the West they smell like poverty), as I've now come to regard a steak dinner and a glass of champagne as standard, and frankly no matter how funny it is watching a bunch of Scousers beating the crap out of a bunch of Mancs, it still doesn't beat having your own personal TV where you can self-select movies.

We arrived at Buenos Aires at about 9 in the morning as it was pissing it down and desperately wanted to stay on the bus for a few more hours. First impressions of Buenos were, to be honest, pretty poor. Few cities can pull off the art of looking good in the rain, and despite being modelled on Paris, Buenos isn't one of them. Added to this our first hostel was basically the biggest dump ever, with rain dripping through the ceiling, bunk beds which were basically two beds stacked on top of one another, and taps that come off in your hand, and I was pretty much ready to go home. To make matters worse, when we finally ventured out for some dinner, the taxi ride back was a complete nightmare with our driver who was clearly off his face taking us on the gringo route (it was double the price on the way back), complete with a couple of kerb collisions and jumped reds. When we finally got there he then tried to pull a note scam on us, but fortunately we were alert enough, and by this point knew enough swear words in Spanish to ensure this didn't happen. Needless to say we went to bed very agitated and desperate to leave.

Still, things picked up immensely the next day. After realising we couldn't bear to pay premium rate for what was basically a glorified shit-hole we quickly found another hostel, and okay, so it was full of weirdos and in a red-light district, but everyone has to work somewhere and the hostel itself was really fun and pleasant and even the local inhabitants were friendly enough when they realised they couldn't sell you their services. After settling in we headed to La Boca which we'd been informed was a must see, and we'd not been told wrong. Aside from the fact the place is basically one massive Maradona shrine, with his picture painted on most walls and the odd statue knocking about, this barrio was spectacularly colourful, literally like a five year old had been let loose with a massive house-sized paintbrush, and had loads of street tango shows which were great to see. After milling around Boca for a while we decided to go home for some rest and were confronted with the reality that nothing is perfect, even in our wonderful hostel, as we discovered that our roomate, a peculiar dutch girl, snored like a freighter train, so loudly that it was pretty much impossible to sleep.

The next morning after a not-so rejuvenating sleep we went to Recoleta to visit the cemetery and church there. Whilst I am not normally the biggest fan of Catholicism (no offence to any Catholics reading this, but once a Presbyterian, always a Presbyterian) even I had to admit that the decor was pretty magnificent. After last Summer's jaunts to Malta I had sworn never to enter another bloody church again (there's only so much you can do with Baroque design before it all blurs into the same) but this was well worth the gamble with beautiful ornate carvings. The cemetery next to it was even better, with massive mausoleums, some the size of mini churches built in dedication to the rich and famous. The most disappointing, however, was the tomb of national treasure Eva Peron, who was buried in the most boring tomb ever. Even so it has no become my ambition to build my own spectacular mausoleum, and okay so it may mean that some things such as the back garden may have to be sacrificed, but I think it will be worth it in the long run. After this we went for some ice-cream (possibly the best I'd ever had) before heading onto a local bookshop which was housed in an ex-theatre and was probably the coolest thing in Buenos Aires. Unfortunately just as we went to get the Subte (underground train) home, I realised that I had lost my purse which caused some frantic re-tracing of steps across the city. Despite being pretty much skint anyway by this point, I concluded that I'd come so far without being robbed and I would be damned if I was going to lose something of my own accord. Eventually we found it in the ice-cream shop, despite several people saying something along the lines of "handing in? In Argentina? That'll be the day".

Other than these excursions, Buenos Aires was basically spent milling about trying to prepare ourselves for the dreadful reality of coming home. The highlight definitely had to be our last meal out where we went for a local dish, the parilla. This is, in short, an all you can eat meat buffet. I genuinely believe that they must have some cow over-crowding problem in Argentina, because literally everywhere sells mountains and mountains of steak, which frankly I have no problem with. You can't really argue with unlimited meat, a bottle of wine each and dessert for fourteen quid, even if you have to wait an hour for a table.

So eventually, after seven weeks of trying new experiences, some of them good, some of them awful, we got in a taxi with heavy hearts and made our way to airport; only to be told that there was an issue with our plane and would we be prepared to get the Iberia one in nine hours time instead (to everyone reading this, never ever get on an Iberia plane). Having heard horror stories of cross-Atlantic journeys made in what was essentially a glorified RyanAir vehicle, we firmly insisted on being put on the plane we'd paid for and so began what was around a twenty hour journey on three different planes which, with the exception of a 45 minute connection time in two different terminals in Madrid, went very smoothly. We eventually arrived home on Tuesday, and even the fact that my luggage managed to get lost somewhere over the Atlantic couldn't dampen my mood to be back, however, three days later after attempting to move in together plus jet-lag, we are now hankering to be abroad again.

Until next time, thank you and goodnight.

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Photos

Santiago at night
This is a view out over the city from the Cerro San Cristobal

The Virgin
And this is the lit-up statue of the Virgin Mary at the top of the Cerro

Santiago in the day
This view is from the top of the fort on the Cerro Santa Lucia, looking towards the Cerro San Cristobal

Painted houses in Valpo
Just a few examples of the brightly painted houses in the bohemian district of Cerro Concepcion, near our hostel

View over the bay in Valpo
This view is from further up the hill

War memorial, Mendoza
This is the war memorial commemorating General Jose San Martin and his army of the Andes' part in the Argentine war of independence

La Boca
Colourfully painted houses in La Boca in Buenos Aires, most famous for its football and its tango

Basilica Nuestra Senora del Pilar
The interior of this church in Recoleta is beautiful; every side alcove has an ornate gilted shrine to a different saint

Recoleta Cemetery
Some of the mausoleums in the cemetery were like miniature cathedrals; many also had beautiful statues like this.

El Ateneo bookstore
One of the most amazing bookshops in the world, in the converted 'Teatro Gran Splendid' in Barrio Norte

Nature reserve, Puerto Madero
An abandoned development project near the city's docks became this wildlife-filled wetland landscape entirely by accident, through windborne seeds from the city's trees settling there

The Chilean Andes
This view from the aeroplane window was taken shortly before landing in Santiago on our way back home