It’s amazing how the first words are always the most difficult. Since our last post in March 2016 (so long ago!) a lot has happened in the life of Rob and Kirsten. Two years later, we find ourselves with regular jobs again, living on the other side of the world in New Zealand (yes, we loved it so much in 2015 we decided to relocate and be responsible adults for a while) and working through the daily grind all in an effort to save for our next epic adventure.
It was one lazy Saturday morning that we stumbled across the opportunity for a trip we both have on our bucket lists – the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. And when investigating flights, the only way from NZ was via Santiago and so set in motion our plans for a short South American holiday. Here is a taster of our experiences in Smoggy Santiago… the first stop on our adventure.
Months of planning brought us to 27 Apr 2018 when the day of our long flight to Santiago dawned. I had been up late the night before trying desperately to ensure all pertinent work emails had been answered, actioned or delegated in between packing for our trip. It was a relief to wake up on that Friday knowing that for two weeks I’ll be unreachable! After whiling away the day with mundane chores to pass the time (read – housecleaning), we made our way to the airport, high on anticipation. We had a long 12-hour flight ahead of us, but luckily, the aisle seat of our three-seat row was not allocated, and we could spread out and get some rest while we flew across the expanse of the Pacific Ocean we had sailed across only two years prior.
We flew LATAM for the first time and have to say I was mightily impressed – superb, modern aircraft and a delicious dinner of gnocchi, with cream, mushrooms and sundried tomato, followed by an amazing chocolate brownie and Chilean red wine. The red wine accompanied with a helpful sleeping tablet ensured a pretty decent night’s sleep! Our first sight of South America was at Concepcion, a port familiar to Rob in his days on the cargo ships, and most recently, the port team Scallywag made their way to following their loss of a crew member on Leg 7 of the Volvo Ocean Race that Rob and I have been following. A left turn saw us heading North for a bit, the majestic Andes rising up through the clouds on our right, as we descended to the sight of the dry, dusty desert landscape surrounding the mammoth city of Santiago. From the air it was clear (despite the smog) to see that Santiago is a city filled with people (apparently 40% of the population lives here) with the city sprawling in all directions in a central valley flanked by the Andes to the East, and the Coastal mountain ranges to the West.
After touchdown and an easy pass through Immigration, our bags were the first off the carousel and we located the Turbus into town. One word – TRAFFIC! And lots of it! After two hours in a bus with seriously dodgy suspension, we rode through dirty, crowded suburban streets to the Turbus central station, hoisted our bags onto our backs, and delved into the underworld of the city’s Metro system. Big, cumbersome bags on our backs during Friday evening peak hour Metro traffic wasn’t fun and resulted in perdón and disculpe (both mean sorry) and con permiso (with permission) being the first Spanish words out of my mouth in this foreign land, when we had to try and get out of the sardine can which was the train carriage. Luckily for us, our hotel wasn’t too far from a Metro stop and we settled into our room unscathed. The 13th floor of the Ibis Santiago Providencia hotel was our home for the next 5 days – a lucky number for some, unlucky for others. I wasn’t too fussed, not being superstitious and all that, and had read previously it was actually recommended to have a room higher up due to the city noise at night, but as we found out later that night, a room on the 13th floor doesn’t help with noise if you have a window that doesn’t shut completely, and the sound of bus airbrakes at 1am is surprisingly loud!
After a decent few hours of sleep we woke refreshed, but to pitch darkness (well as much darkness as a city of 7 million people would allow). Checking the time thinking jet lag was the culprit for this unexpected awakening, it was already 06h45 according to our watches. Out comes the phone for wifi to check the local time (just in case we buggered up when re-setting the time). Yup, 06h45, with sunrise only at 08h30! I can tell you this delay in sunrise compared to what we were used to threw us a bit, and towards the end of our stay, we were only waking up at about 08h00 which is unheard of for us. After a typical Spanish/Chilean breakfast of sweet pastry and coffee, we found our local supermarket for some refreshments (and deliciously fresh bread straight out of the oven), then we hit the Metro to the old city. With plenty of people around, some who were obviously tourists and some who were not, Rob was on high alert for scammers and pickpockets and I got a mouthful each time I lagged behind admiring some fabulous piece of old architecture. We got some pictures, but I can’t say the old city was very pretty. The buildings in the area are excellently maintained but with everything covered in a fine brown dust, it just looks dull. The river throwing through the central city was also filled with litter, and although the adjacent park was the only greenbelt in the city, it smelt of piss most of the time (not sure if the council used fertilizer or grey water to keep the grass green, which may have contributed to the smell!). The city parks were a popular place to spend the day it seemed, with gravel paths available for pedestrians, and cycle lanes teeming with bikes. With our meandering and dodging water puddles (the parks were constantly being watered), we also realized that the park was the place for the youngsters to demonstrate their love for one another, taking public displays of affection to another level, often stopping for a snog in the middle of the path, oblivious to the world around them, then carrying on with their stroll once their ardour was satisfied, at least temporarily.
With our earlier confusion with the time, we also came to note the city is filled with clocks of various shapes and sizes, but not one had the correct time anyway which gave new meaning to Chile time (in hindsight it would have been good to ask the locals of meetings/appointments etc. ever started on time given every single clock we saw had the wrong time). The most exciting thing of the day – riding the metro (on a Saturday, it was still surprisingly busy) but with far less crowds that the night before, Rob noticed that the wheels of the carriages were actually bus tyres following a track (like those old electronic go-kart toys) rather than train tracks one sees in Paris for example. The same afternoon, after our usual siesta, we took a stroll to the Costanera Center Torre 2 (also known as Gran Torre Santiago), the tallest building in Latin America, with 64 stories. After an earpopping, 40 second elevator ride, we arrived at level 62 for a bird’s eye view of the city in all directions, then headed one floor up to the open-air deck. With the smog, we could hardly make out the snow-capped Andes in the distance, but it was still great to get that perspective of the size of the city, something you don’t realize when on ground level. And of course, when in Rome do as the Romans, so the rest of our Saturday was spent dodging people in the 5 levels of the mall at the bottom of the tower as we familiarized ourselves with local fashion, culture and food (should I be surprised that the queue for the movie The Avengers, or whatever the latest sci-fi blockbuster is, was around the corner and out the door?). Walking back to the hotel, we stumbled across a street market, with the entire road closed off to traffic, with one end dedicated to a stage and mosh pit, a local rock band banging out the tunes while the more sedate punters were lounging at tables set up on the sidewalk, sipping sangria and enjoying the ambience.
Sunday saw us have an early start for an 08h15 pick up by tour company Turistik for a day trip to Vina del Mar and Valparaiso on the coast. A pleasant 1h30 drive out of Santiago took us through the first set of Coastal Ranges via a 5km tunnel into the Casablanca Valley, the most fertile part of the region fed by an underground river, with lots of wineries, and fruit and vegetable farms. A second tunnel, this one 3km saw us enter the hilly outskirts of the Valparaiso region, a place where window washers, street clowns and fire dancers abound at every traffic light and street corner. Our first stop, Vina del Mar, a place the brochures advertise as a quaint coastal “town” but is anything but… the sight of a huge metropolis greeted us as we made our way through the poor districts filling the slopes down to the apartment towers lining the seafront, with not an inch of free land available. With the day being cold and overcast, and outside of peak summer season, the place was still full of people and me being averse to crowds, I’d hate to see it at its busiest – I don’t imagine Vina del Mar would be the best place to escape the hustle and bustle of the city for a relaxing holiday! A quick stop at the picturesque flower clock (which surprisingly had the correct time!), the required selfie taken, it was back on the bus for a drive through the centre to Parque Quinta Vergara, a landscaped park with open-air stage although why we stopped here, I’m not sure as there wasn’t anything to see. Back on the bus, and to the beach, and our lunch stop. At 16,000 pesos (about NZD 35) per person, we opted to find something local instead, but with limited time, and being on foot, we were restricted to the beach front restaurants which were charging the same exorbitant prices. I won’t dare tell you where we dined *cough* pizza hut *cough*! Good enough to settle the tummy rumblings before we headed to Valparaiso, a World Heritage site.
A multitude of colourful houses dotted the mountainside as the bus struggled up the steep streets for us to start our walking tour, we could see why the area is a haven for artists, with colourful street art (read graffiti) adorning the majority of buildings and streets. Our guide even warned us not to take anything valuable with us, and to be on the lookout for pickpockets, and not to lose the group as we’d never find our way out of the rabbit’s warren of streets. Both Rob and I commented on the bus ride back that we were pleased to have taken the tour, as we wouldn’t have seen half the sights, or understood the history of the area if we had been independent tourists. Rob had visited the area previously on the cargo ships and made a remark about how the city has grown exponentially since he last visited. His memory… being in port offloading containers, with the Chilean armada doing drills nearby, firing live ammo into the water where the cargo ship was berthed.
Overall, we enjoyed the day out, and have a tick against another World Heritage Site that Rob and I have visited together. The city does have a kind of artistic charm to it, with a multitude of art, colourful facades of the houses, and a plethora of architectural styles to keep the eye entertained, but we didn’t know if we should be looking at the scenery or keeping our eyes to the floor to avoid standing in the multiple landmines of dog poo kindly left behind by the packs of street dogs roaming the alleyways. On that note, the street dogs were a common feature wherever we went. It was difficult to tell if the dogs were stray, or actually had owners who let them roam free, as most were in pretty good health, with very few mangy coats and visible ribs. They roamed in packs, playing and jostling as they followed us down the streets, or passed out on the sidewalks oblivious to the people walking past them. They are unbelievably street smart, even knowing when it was safe to cross super busy streets (would you believe me if I told you they even cross at the lights, not a stray – excuse the pun – jay-walker in sight). A couple of people in our group were afraid of them, and our guide said, “don’t worry about the street dogs, they are kind” and from our observations during our time in Chile, are an accepted part of society, with a good number of households leaving bowls of food and freshwater on the sidewalk for the dogs to enjoy. The few dogs we did see belonging to owners were dressed to the nines in their canine couture, decked out in their designer doggie jackets to protect them against the icy wind as they trotted haughtily along on their leads! We topped off our day with Chilean ice-cream after dinner when arriving back in the city, and although overwhelmed with the choices of flavor available, I can’t say the ice-cream provided the same gastronomic delights that comes with a mouthful of Italian gelato! Still to experience a traditional Chilean meal though…
Monday saw us searching for eggs for breakfast, something which seemed to be non-existent, so we settled for some continental grub of a fresh roll with ham and cheese, and a Nescafe from the local café as we waited for the fog to clear. A stroll along the river as the sun burnt off the fog (only to be replaced by the ever-present smog) took us to the Santiago Metropolitan Park, the largest urban park in Chile. We took the cable car up to San Cristobal, had a wander around the top skirting the crowds surrounding the Statue of the Virgin Mary and admired the view (or lack thereof). We had actually read that the pollution at times is considered worse than Beijing, and that the government recommended the population avoid outdoor exercise! For our part, the pollution had its effect with poor Rob suffering constant red and itchy eyes, and both of us coughing and sneezing our way around the city. The hill seems to be a mountain bike mecca, with cyclists slogging their way to the top, catching their breath and racing down the slopes to the bottom. We decided to take the more sedate route using the funicular down to the suburb of Bellavista and enjoyed the 45-degree descent down the hill (although the poor girl behind us couldn’t say the same, down on her bum, clutching the sides of the carriage with white knuckles petrified for the entire 2 minute thrill ride). Lunch was a tasty meal in the “el patio” area, a place of plenty restaurants, bars and mini boutique type cubicles selling jewelry, clothing and souvenirs. Our search for a traditional Chilean meal had us eating dinner in a local restaurant near our hotel, where we ordered a Chorrillana, a dish consisting of a plate of French fries, covered with especial (in our case, beef, chicken and sausage), topped by fried egg and caramelized onions. Washed down with a local beer, we enjoyed our dinner sitting at our street-side table where local musicians and singers provided some entertainment and touted the tables for tips before moving on to the next. Our entertainment ranged from a harmonica playing hippie to a pop-star wannabee with big boobs whose biggest talent was humming along to whatever was playing on her stereo while she kept her balance of the highest pair of stilettos I have ever seen!
Our last day in Santiago was 1 May and should have been our day to leave the city for our next adventure on the Inca Trail, but a lack of foresight saw us in the city for another day. A public holiday, the city was dead, with all restaurants and shops closed, and few people bar us wandering on the streets. On a positive note, this was the day we found eggs for breakfast! The one and only open restaurant was an American-style diner where I treated myself to a B.L.T with egg and Rob tried the scrambled egg mish-mash of whatever leftovers the “chef” found – suffice to say mine was the better of the two meals! Anyway, the day gave us a chance to get our laundry dry (having used the shower and a bucket to clean the smalls needed for our next leg) and pack and prepare for our travels to Peru the next day. When originally planning our South American trip, the main event was always going to be the Inca Trail, but we were still pleased to have visited Santiago, and definitely want to explore the rest of Chile, considering we only saw a miniscule amount of this 4000km plus long country.