Three Capitals: Santiago, Buenos Aries & La Paz

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Did I say the real travelling started when I left my family in Perth?...Well, scrap that...NOW the travelling REALLY started. I was off to a new continent and a group of countries that spoke languages which I knew very few words in....here goes!



I knew the long flight from Sydney to Santiago, Chile was going to be a tiring one and I would be jet lagged from it but I underestimated just how jet lagged I'd be. I left Sydney at 9:30 am on the Monday. I flew to Auckland, NZ, had an hour and a half lay over and then flew to Santiago. The total flying time was about 14 and a half hours, the journey since I left Sydney around 16 hours but I still landed in Santiago at 11:30 am...the same day. I had literally flown back in time and was now re-living Monday for a second time. (When I travelled from Los Angeles to Auckland 8 years ago I lost a day due to flying over the international date line....I was now getting that lost day back.) I felt ill. I only managed to last till about half four before giving up and going to bed. Bad move, I was then up early hours of the morning as my body was still on Sydney time. I spent day two in Santiago feeling somewhat depressed and queazy. I was on my own. The hostel was quiet and nearly everyone around worked there. I spent my time trying to plan my next move in South America as not to waste the good internet there. The next day an Aussie from Sydney called Jason moved in. He must have been in a worse state than me as he had flown from Sydney up to the USA before flying back down to Chile...his journey was 36 hours long! We made friends and decided to go out and take advantage of a free walking tour in the city the next day.



Later the same day I was on a mission to find 'The Bells of Santiago'. The Jesuit Church de la Campana in the city burnt down in 1863. Over 200 people (mainly women and children) died and the only surviving items from the blaze were the copper church bells. They were sold for scrap metal and made their way over to good old Swansea as we had a huge copper industry (Copperopolis) at the time. When the bells arrived in Swansea, instead of melting them down, they were deemed too nice and were installed in the All Saints Church in Mumbles. In 2010, as part of Santiago's bicentenary celebrations, the bells were given back to the city as a gift from the church in Mumbles. I wanted to find the bells and take a photo of them, back in their native city. Easier said than done. As the original church doesn't exist anymore, local people don't really know about it. After the bloke in my hostel asked a few locals outside, one decided he knew where these bells were being kept and gave us some directions. We wrote them down and my mission that afternoon had begun. I had some food to eat in the cafe that is attached to the hostel. A Cuban guy working as a waiter there wanted to talk to me but spoke very little English as I did Spanish. He got out his laptop so we could converse via Google translate (yea, you can just imagine some of the strange translations that was giving us!) and he told me he'd help me find the bells once he'd finished his shift. I was glad of the help but even he found it incredibly difficult to find the bells. No one knows the story of the church burning down and we were constantly directed to random churches. I had failed and gave up as night fell, opting to get some sleep instead.



Jason and I made our way to the centre of the city the following morning to join a 'free' walking tour of the city. (I put free in inverted commas as you are expected to tip and on this tour we were even told how much to tip! Good thing the guide was good at his job.) We walked around the city for 4 hours on the tour, taking in sights such as the presidential office which has one of the world's largest flag outside, the opera house, post office (both grand buildings) and a sculpture of president Salvador Allende, the president who was in office (and took his own life) as General Pinnoche's coup happened. We stopped off for some delicious ice cream in a parlour that by its own reckoning believes it's the fourth best ice cream in the world....don't know how they worked out they were fourth mind, and I'd say they are behind Joe's Ice cream in Swansea!



We enjoyed the tour and met another Aussie, Anna whilst walking around and the three of us decided to go up to the top of Santiago's highest hill; San Cristobal to take in the view if the city. It took us around an hour and a quarter to get to the top where there is a large white statue of the Virgin Mary (it is very evident around the city that you are in a Catholic country). From the top we could see the city and it's many high rise buildings as well as the smog. The 'Santiago Smog' is well known apparently and I'd read about it before I'd arrived, you can certainly see it from the top of the hill. We walked back down to the city and and towards our hostels, our legs aching now from a long 7 hours of walking.



We arranged to meet up with Anna the next morning to go to the local market to try some local quisene we walked around the fresh produce market and then decided to get something to eat. Jason and I needed to get money out so we went to an ATM on the way. The problem being that the machine decided it needed to keep my bank card! I was devastated. Jason was smart enough not to use that machine after what had happened to me and the two of them kindly offered to buy me lunch if I didn't have enough money for food. Back in the hostel, I got on the phone to my bank to tell them what had happened and they were as confused as I was but they cancelled the card and put a notice to send a new one...to my home address. I'd now have to figure out how my parents could get my card to me at some point and was now relying on my credit card and the extortionate fees they charge to get money out. Jason and I went to the nearest metro station to get money out of a cash machine there and it was only when we were back at the hostel did he realise he'd forgotten to take his card out! Card number two gone that day...doh!



I was ready to get out of there which was just as well, because I had a flight to Buenos Aires, Argentina that night. My friend Alex, who is a teacher in another primary school in Swansea was also travelling and we'd arranged to meet up in Buenos Aires for the week before he flew home to Wales. The next morning, I got the bus over to where Nathan lives in his flat in Palermo and the three of us went for an English breakfast. Both Alex and Nathan went to the same school as me but as they are a few years younger, I didn't know them in school. I know Alex through work and he knows Nathan from home. Nathan lives and works in BA and so he speaks fluent Spanish and was so helpful to us. After breakfast, we went for some ice cream and then met up with Nathan's Argentinian friend, Sophia (who teaches English so has an excellent command of the language) and we all went for a walk in the park. Sophia had just moved into a new apartment in the city and invited us to come along to her flat-warming party that night. We said goodbye to Sophia for the time being and went to Nathan's flat to freshen up. Alex and I nipped out for an hour to go and get a 'submarino'. It's a drink where you are served hot milk and given a bar if chocolate which you put in the milk to melt to create a hot chocolate. Alex insisted I needed to try one and I've gotta say, I really enjoyed it. There was something satisfying about creating the hot chocolate yourself.



The house party was great, it was fascinating to see how the Argentineans do things. It was a small gathering of around 11 or so of us. Everyone spoke fantastic English and so we were able to have interesting conversations and give each other tips on different slang and colloquialisms used in each other's languages. The a Argentines party late and this was evident from the fact that two guests turned up at just gone 1am.



The next day, I found myself in a cold, rainy Buenos Aries, sitting in a cafe in the market, drinking hot chocolate with another 4 Welsh teachers. Yep, seems we all had the same idea and were all given time off from school to live the travelling dream. (I'm starting to wonder if there's anyone left teaching the children in Wales at this point...in fact if there are many Welsh people in the country seeing as I'd met so many on my travels so far.) It was nice to exchange stories of our travels as well as our jobs and as the weather was so shocking we all felt like we were at home.



Steak was the order of the day...night the following day....night and Nathan took Alex and I to a really nice restaurant near his flat in Palermo Hollywood (named so because of the glut of film studios in the area). We ordered the steak (obviously, that's why we were there) and it arrived to us as quite a large portion of rare cow on a silver serving plate. Fantastic. Argentina is famous for its meat and in particular, steak and we weren't disappointed. The waiter cut our meat with a spoon....yes, spoon, that is not a typo and served each one of us with the steak and some salad. My goodness me, people are not lying or over exaggerating when they say about the steak in Argentina; it is delicious. I am a big meat fan and I've got to say that it was the best steak I've ever had.



Alex and I went on a walking tour of the city the next day and although the tour wasn't the best (big group and a quiet guide so we didn't catch all the information), the weather was now glorious so we enjoyed the sun and seeing some interesting parts of the city such as the balcony from which Eva Peron (Evita) addressed her adoring fans and the Falklands war memorial. Another last, tasty Argentinian meal with the two boys and we said our goodbyes. Alex was flying home for a week before going to Africa, I was flying back to Santiago to go to a Easter Island and Nathan was, well staying there as he lived there.



I had only one day back in Santiago and decided to yet again go look for the church bells. I had (allegedly) been given reliable information as to there whereabouts but yet again I couldn't find the bells. I'm now convinced that they were sold again for scrap when they were returned in 2010 or they've been melted down or got lost....I don't know, I just know I can't find the things, but no one can say I didn't try.



I flew to Easter Island the next day and had a great time on the island before flying back to Santiago, grabbing a quick bite to eat and making sure I was packed for yet another flight. This time to the worlds highest capital: La Paz in Bolivia. The flight was two actually. I flew to Iquique which is in Northern Chile and a two hour flight away and then waited in the airport for 5 hours for what I thought was a ten minute flight to La Paz. It was an hour and ten minutes because Bolivia is on a different time zone to Chile...that made more sense, doh! I waited in the airport that was seemingly still being built (in fact, the gate I was to leave via wasn't finished and the workmen were still putting doors on it) with just three other people. Only myself and three Polish were in transit and so we all got to know each other over the course of our time there. When we stepped off the plane in La Paz we were all walking like astronauts. I thought I felt strange as I had done a lot of flying in the previous couple of weeks but the Polish were struggling too. It was the altitude. It hit us as soon as we exited the aircraft. When I arrived at my hostel, I'd been walking up the cobbled streets with all my stuff and was pretty out of puff and my heart was racing. After dumping my bags in my dorm I went to the hostel bar for food. A guy started talking to me and room still spinning, I tried to focus on the conversation. When the food arrived, I took one bite out of the burger and felt so queazy that I had to excuse myself to go to bed, leaving him eating my food. I woke up the next morning feeling like my brain was bleeding. I've never felt pressure like it in my life. That day I didn't do much else apart from medicate myself.



I did manage to make it to the walking tour on my second and last day in La Paz and I'm so glad I did. It was a fantastic tour with knowledgable, charismatic, funny guides who told us loads of interesting things about La Paz and Bolivian life in general. The small bowler hats worn by the Bolivian women were originally made in Europe in the 19th Century and were sent over to the Bolivians as they wanted to dress more like the Europeans. The milliners had seen some photos of the Bolivian men and so made the Bowler hats small to fit on the small men's heads. However, the hats were way too small for the men and not wanting to lose the money they had invested decided to market the hats to women, telling them that all the European women are wearing these small hats that sit on the top of their heads. The Bolivians hadn't seen any evidence to suggest otherwise and so once the first lady went about town wearing her new fashion statement (that she'd been given for free to help advertise the goods), all the other ladies wanted one too. Turns out the Bolivian women are very jealous and won't be outdone by anyone else and so the fashion began and is still very prevalent today.



That night I booked my bus to Cusco. I needed to be in Cusco by November the 18th to meet my group to begin the Inca Trail. I wanted to be in Cusco a couple of days earlier so I could have a rest and make sure I was ready for the challenge. So I got on the bus in the morning on the 15th November. I was told the La Paz to Cusco bus would take 12 hours and there would be food on the bus. Great. All the seats on this bus were 'cama' which means bed in Spanish and so I could look forward to a restful journey. All was well until we got to the Bolivian-Peruvian boarder and we had to get off to go through immigration. Most of us had no problem and were stamped and sent on our way; apart from the American girl with us who had been living and working in La Paz for a few months and was doing a visa run/visit friends in Cusco trip to extend her visa. Turns out she'd not payed her visit reciprocity fee (a few countries who charge the South Americans to enter their country are charged on entry themselves...thank goodness for being British because as we'll let any old bugger into our country at least it means it works in my favour and I don't need to pay to get in anywhere on my trip, saving me a small fortune it would seem. So, myself and two Australian blokes waited outside the little room they had detained her in for about two hours. We figured there was safety in numbers as we have heard stories of people being left at the boarder by the bus company. Surely they couldn't leave four of us? The bus driver was not a happy chappy and shouted at the American lass all the way back to the bus once her ordeal in immigration was over: just what she needed as she plodded to the bus, head down and hands shaking. Once that was over and we were in Peru it was straight forward. We passed by Puno and Lake Titicaca and some fantastic scenery on the way and I became excited as I arrived in this new country. The American girl was so grateful that we gringos stuck together and waited for her, showing support that she insisted on buying us food and drinks but by this point we had been travelling for over 14 hours and it was quite late so she she showed her thanks by paying for our taxi to the hostel and I was grateful for that. 😊

All I had to do now was make sure I was ready for the Inca Trail.

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