Santiago

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Santiago aka Stgo
In Garmin we trust especially when it marks two routes going out of Valpo instead we trusted in common sense, ocean on the right hand side means that your nose is pointing south, said and done.
The weather had returned to it's usual sullen self, grey and misty and cool to top it up, we've not been lucky with the weather on this trip, not one hot day so far.
We're not alone on the highway going towards Chile's capital Santiago, loads of trucks with containers were on the road as well, laden with containers and whatever under tarpaulins.
I think some of the trucks must have the smallest engine you can get for money, because uphill, which is was for quite a while, they went really slow some of them barely moving.
The drag is, like all other truckers they have to overtake eachother even if they one who wants to overtake is only going slightly faster then the one being over taken.
Going uphill means that this takes about 3 or 4 km at snails pace in a cloud of dieselfumes and then you catch up with the next one doing the same.
Chile wants your money big time, motorways are payroads and there is not much of a choice and they're expensive as well you pay at least double European fees.
Everbody said that it was a good time to go to Stgo beacuse of the holidays, everyone and their uncles would be down on the beach.
The GPS decided to cooperate and we found a nice hotel for a decent price, but nowhwere to park and iof you go to the big parking places underground you pay as much for the car as for your self, and the car does not get stale bread nor fried eggs for breakfast.
So next place goes on the list and the GPS put on a street with another name than the one on the screen a bit bewildering to put it mildly.
Thinking that everyone was down at the beach it takes about one hour to go 1,5 km and the street changes names as we go past the ever present Plaza de Armas, we wonder what Stgo would be like in rush hour with everyone back from the beach.

Out comes the map and we find the place, a bit dingy but we can't be bothered to look any further and they only want 40 of Uncle Obama's greenbacks.
And you can actually move about in the bath room witout touching anything.
The children who live in the same hotel, members of the owner's family decide to have a football game together with the family mutt.
The game consists largely of shouthing as much as possible and run up and down the corridor with the mutt barking like mad, they do stop in the evening.
I get in contact with my friend Francesca and we decide to meet the next day.
Walkabout time, not much daylight left but somethings to see beforenight fall.
The guy in the tourism office is next to brain dead and we don't really get any good ideas from him.
In Stgo the council has decided to mark a path marked the patriomonal heritage with little discs glued to the pavement a very nice invention as we find out the next day, not a word about that.
They have a little hillock with paths and some kind of tower with a view point, here you can crowd with other people and watch the smog.
They are shooting a film here as well, as they did in Valpo, cables and people and all the paraphenalia that's necessary.
We have passed quite a few locations both here and in Valpo and during my long life in Sweden and on trips I've never seen a film being shot, unfortunately they don't want any extras.

We go back and have a little lie down and then go out for dinner, we have another hotel on the list and decide to check it out.
The hotel is very nice and we decide to move first thing in the morning.
The Stgo under ground is very nice, spacious and clean and very fast and obviously no traffic jams.
Not very good for sight seeing though.
There's a street with a lot of restaurants on and we decide on the salmon lasagna and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, a very good choice, the best meal on this trip by a long shot, jummy.
We sit there and watch the people go by, like in Argie people come out for dinner at 11 pm or so, every table is taken.
The amount of rotund people has decreased a lot, here are the slick and well dressed big city dwellers who go to the gym and do " musculationes" as it's advertized.
Next morning we're in the car heading to the new hotel, with parking included.
The room's not ready so we leave our stuff in the car and go off to the "Free city tour" another thing the tourism guy didn't know about or wanted to tell us about.
The Free city tour has no prices but your expected to pay a hefty tip, 10 US a head which means that the guy took in about 280 US for 3.5 hrs work. not bad at all.
The guide is very good at his job and the tour is very nice, lots of info and he's very engaged in his story telling , an actor student.
Some of his comments about the short comings of the governement would have had him shot and quartered by Pinochet's henchmen.
Here we also get a story about brutality and oppression under Pinochet but also about the chaos under Allende's regime.
South American governements do seems to want to treat it's citizens with outmost brutality from time to time.
The guide's girlfriends father was shot because of him being a protest singer, it's very nice to be Swedish sometimes.
And they say that Pinochet's reign of terror was like kindergarten compared to the military governement in Argie.
Any way it was a nice free tour and it's supposedly something like it in major cities in Europe as well, well worth trying.
Lunch time so with 2 Irish gals we walk to the fishmarket and have a nice fishy lunch with ceviche and fried fish and of course pebre.
I don't know if I've mentioned pebre and if I have bear with me pebre is a concoction of chopped tomatoes and onion and some salt an chili , the flavour changes from restaurant to restaurant but is almost always nice, especially when spicy.
We normally throw ourselves at the pebre as vultures at a dead zebra , dip the bread in it and enjoy, preferably as the humidity condenses on the cool beer bottle.
The Irish are rather sceptical at the idea of ceviche but as we order they do as well, one enjoys it and one nibbles.
One convert is better than none.
A long walk back to our luxury hotel and a bit of a snooze on N's part and reading for me.
Waiting for Francesca is a bit boring as she's a bit late, according to N not so much by SA standards but by Swedish....
It's the same whorlwind I met in Vietnam and then I know it's going to be fun, some people really let their hair down when abroad and then at home revert to being mainline.
Dinner time starts late here in SA not eralier than 10 pm really so we get to the restaurant at 11 pm it's quite ok.
Francesca ask if we should do the same procedure as last year, a question that is answered with a Yea from me.
As by magic three very large G&T appear at the table and by large I mean large, enough to make a rhino stagger, atta girl!!!
Dinner is a lot of dishes, mostly fishy and the company is fun.
I go off to see a man about a dog but the toilet is occupied and stays so for quite a while and there's queue forming up and the waiter sees this and starts knocking on the door, a bit more knocking and kicking the door.
Finally the door opens and a woman comes out and then a guy both looking rather embarrased ;-D.
More rhino killers have arrived at the table and I
get down on my knees, whoa!
We get home at 3 am or so and the driver has had the rhino drinks as well DUI does not seem to an item in Chile.
Next morning or to put it precisely a bit later sees us a bit bleary eyed but still bushy tailed.
Our guide is a bit late 4 hours or so but she turns up in the end and takes us around the posh parts of Stgo but alas some of the good views are marred but a thick layer of smog.
Some nice houses around though, blessed are those who have.
A 3 hour snack with 2 bottles of liquid silk in the shape of a local white wine sees us very happy and content as we bask in the sun.
There's a very nice hotel with a roof top restaurant/ bar that needs a visit on the way back.
High way robbery as they charge 6 of uncle Obama's for a small beer. The top floor swimming pool area is filled by the rich and some beautiful which problably accounts for the pricelevel.
This is not a backpacker place at all.
We take the very nice and clean metro back to our "suite" and wait for the party that we're invited to.
In SA do as the South Americans come late we were to get there at 12 pm or so.
The place being in the boon docks from where we lived meant that we had to take a cab late or the metro early so we decide to get some food up there and take the metro that closes att 11 pm.
After the normal SA wait for Francesca we get to a massive high rise with security guards and a check list with the name of everyone invited.
We're on it as companions and get let in with Francesca and Andres, elevator to the 16 th floor and there we are in a massive great appartment loads of people, mostly males.
Greetings by the owners who are a gay couple and then it's quite obvious why the guests are predominately male.
Drinks, drinks, everybody has a glass and soon I do as well, I start to wander around the appartment that is very nice but everything reeks of styling , massive books put slightly askew on tables with magazines put on top and they look as if noone ever opened them.
Littel knick knack strategically placed as well, everything is spotless and not a speck of dust, music out of hidden speakers in every room
Even the bog has it's own speaker with it's own volume control.
4 balconies to the 4 winds and a nice view of Stgo at night and now you can't see the smog.
One of the balconies even has it's own gas fired fireplace, blessed are the rich?
Most of the gays don't seem to be very interested in speaking to me for very long, problably their radar picked up that i'm on the other side of the fence.
Two waiters move around and pick up glasses and mop the floor and empty ashtrays.
I think I prefer a few dog hairs and a couple of dogs racing around the house but then again I'm just envious.
Later we are leaving for Argie, my days are up and we have few km to go before we're in Baires.
Some sleep would be nice so we bid our hosts good night and Francesca a fare well, parting from people that you like is no fun but done quickly is less painful.
When the day breaks again I'm happy that bubbly is not my drink.
450 km to Mendoza and a little mountain range called the Andes to cross not to mention customs and passport control.

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Photos

P1090912
The world's largest flag 1/4 of a football field