Santiago

We finally got a bit of time to see Santiago on the Sunday of our visit there.  For one thing, Conrad and I got up early to go for a walk.  Down the block to the riverside park and boulevard.  Over bridges and back.  On toward the Gran Torre Santiago, the tallest building in South America (just shy of 1000 feet).  

Past two Starbucks that were not yet open - South Americans, from our experience, are not morning people!  A nice little loop.  The boulevard turned out to be closed for a handful of hours at midday each Sunday so as to permit bicyclists and others to use it.  That was a nice thing to see.

Sunday was the first day that all of the group that Natasha had organized was together, the last few arriving in time for an afternoon tour of the city.  We set off in a shuttle with a driver and a guide, stopping at a few places, including the historic central city plaza,

popping into the Cathedral,

down central city streets

and then seeing the old presidential complex

where Allende was killed (or died - the cause is up for debate, apparently), then attempting to go up a funicular and get some views of the city from the top of a hill.  The lines for that last one killed it, and instead we wandered through a nearby shopping plaza in search of souvenirs.

It wasn’t much of Santiago.  The city is large, and I wish we had had time to see a museum or two, ride the subway, relax and enjoy it a little more.  After the tour finished, Conrad and I parked at a place across from our hotel, enjoying a drink each in the heat.  

Dinner that night took us only one block over to a Peruvian place that was perfectly fine.

And then at 2:30 in the morning we were in a shuttle to the airport,

leaving the city behind for the rest of the trip.  I would be interested in coming back.  We shall see if that ever comes to pass.

heading out of the city

We arrived in Santiago on Friday morning.  By noon I was taking a nap in the hotel room.  

At 2PM we were in a van heading away from the hotel, off west, out of the city, on into the Andes.  I had the idea in mind that we were going to a city overlook that also had hot springs, dining, spa, and more.  Nope.

It was a long drive out to the Cajon de Maipo.  And then beyond.  Way beyond.  By 6PM (and one empanada break earlier) we were in the Valle del Yeso park at a place with thermal pools that others were soaking in but in which we declined to splash.  A river thick and brown with sediment ran past.  

The compasses in our phones told us we were at 9600+ feet above sea level.  

Mountains still towered over us.

Whoa.

It’s humbling to be in that setting.  We have a few tall peaks in SoCal, but they top out below 12,000 feet.  Which is impressive, but this was a lot more.  In other words:  whoa!

I’d tell you more about the scenery along the way, but man, I was tired.  I napped so much on that long drive.  Just the same, I did note how graffiti-ed a lot of Santiago was.  Like Lisbon, in a way.  It was cool rolling through the city, though.  

I wish we’d had more time to see it!

We stopped for a late dinner in the way home in San José de Maipo.  

A small town serving lots of tourists, but plenty of locals enjoying a summer night.  We dined in a restaurant patio by the square.  

Plateada for me - flank or skirt steak

(and lots of it) in a plain broth.  Adding rice improved it. The pisco sour also helped.

And then it was back to our room and a loooooong night of sleep.  So long that we almost missed getting up in time for the Saturday trip to Valparaiso!

Heading out of the country

Canada doesn’t count.  I mean, of course I love my homeland, and it technically is outside of the US, but it doesn’t feel like foreign travel going there.  In any case, there has only been the one visit there in three years, far too little.

It’s Sunday morning, and we’re not in Canada or the US.  Last Thursday we got on a plane to Houston,

connecting through there onto a flight south:  Santiago.  Chile.  The first time in South America for either of us.  But oh, those 8-9 hours in an airplane seat.  My poor butt by the end of it!  The darn thing is, we thought neither of us was going to get an upgrade.  So close on the list, so far.  

And then, there I was, seated before takeoff, watching a movie on my iPad,  an agent came to me and held out a boarding pass that would have put me in a pod seat.  Real food, lie flat.

Husband of the year that I am, I gave it to Conrad.  One spot behind me on the list.  So close, so far.  He had been, well (sorry, Bunny), kind of whiny about the upgrades not coming through.  So there he was, up front.  Oh, he came to check on me.  With, like, 25 minutes left in the flight.  Ah well.  I barely slept on that overnight flight, thanks in part to the woman behind me who kept digging her feet or knees into the back of my seat.  It was like the world’s slowest and most irritating massage chair.  I said nothing to her, though:  I at least had the room afforded me in an exit row and no one beside me.  She was far more crammed in.

So we flew and made it here.  

A nice little boutique hotel

near the river and park and the tallest building in South America.  I napped a lot that day of arrival, and not just in the hotel!