The bus ride into Chile was slow and long. It was supposed to take seven hours, but wound up taking nine and a half. Trucks that had been waiting several days for the inclement weather to pass and the customs to open were backed up for miles approaching the Chilean border. Luckily, our bus driver was a bit maniacal and zoomed into the left lane at every opportunity, dodging oncoming traffic, to bypass the hundreds of gridlocked trucks.
At the border, our bus had to wait an hour to be searched and go through customs. I disembarked and spent most of the time getting a choripan Italiano (chorizo hotdog, ‘Italian style’ which is popular in Chile = covered in tomatoes, onions, mayo, and avocado), and walking around near the immigration office. The border between Mendoza and Santiago has to be one of the cooler border crossings in the world, as it takes place at a mountain pass high above the snowline in the Andes.
After the border crossing, my single serving friend and I got to talking. His name was John and he was returning to his home town of Santiago after teaching a weeklong workshop on how to process and cook marijuana. He claimed to be the best ‘green chef’, marijuana chef, in South America. He owns a chocolatería in Santiago that serves nothing but weed edibles, and is also a prominent activist fighting for marijuana legalization in Chile. Naturally, he had a vial of homemade canna oil (cannabis oil diffused in coconut oil), what he called his ‘medicina’, and was taking drippers full of the solution periodically. He asked if I wanted to try it, and I agreed. At John’s recommendation, I took two full dropper’s worth, and spent the remaining two-hour ride from the border to the bus station in Santiago bullshitting with John, pleasantly stoned.
We finally arrived at the bus terminal in Santiago, Chile at about 6:30pm. John and I exchanged contact info then I grabbed a cab to Forrestal Hostel in the Lastarria neighborhood of Santiago. During my time in Santiago, I went to visit John’s chocolatería three different times, but each time it was either not open during normal business hours or opened, but no one was inside working… stoners…
Santiago is the capital and largest city of Chile. It was founded in the 1500’s, and therefore has a long, rich colonial history, yet it is remarkably modern, and has a very North American feel to it. It’s by far the most ‘American’ city in all of Central and South America. It would certainly be the place an American would have the least culture shock in Latin America. At several points while walking around the downtown area, it felt like I was in Manhattan. As such, it’s similarly cosmopolitan. The people there generally all have uncommon style and elegance that is immediately noticeable. The city is home to some 5+ million people, and is the industrial and financial center of the country. The financial district bustles and buzzes, but the trendy neighborhoods are relaxed, pleasant, and filled with artists. Santiago lies in a valley about halfway between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean. It’s one of the only places on earth where you can surf in the ocean and ski in the mountains in the same day. With generally comfortable, temperate, four seasons weather, it struck me as a place I could live happily.
After checking in, I headed out to dinner. A couple of blocks from the hostel, I found Fuente Aleman (the German Fountain). Fuentes, or Fountains, are common in Chile. They’re throwbacks to old soda fountain restaurants popular in the 50’s. The only seats are stools at a long counter with the grill and soda/beer taps directly behind the counter. The place was hopping and I had to wait for a spot at the counter. I ordered a churrasco sandwich (carved grilled beef) Italiano style and an Austral Roja beer. I watched the chef cook my meal, and received a mountainous sandwich that really hit the spot after the long bus ride.
Back at the hostel, I shared a couple Terremotos (white wine based cocktails popular in Chile) with a few Chileno and Braziliero hostel folk, but then managed to get to bed at a decent hour.
The next day, I brunched at Café Manzana Confitada on Calle Lastarria, a cute street where all the street artists and artisanal vendors hang out in the neighborhood.
After lunch, I went on the free walking tour of Santiago. The tour was offered in either English or Spanish, and I elected to go on the tour in Spanish. The tour stopped at all the usual places—main plaza, cathedral, elaborate palaces and government buildings, etc. I was understanding probably 75% of the Spanish of the guide for the first two hours of the tour. For me, paying full, undivided attention to anything for more than a couple of hours is exhausting. Especially foreign language. As a result of mental fatigue, during the last hour of the tour my comprehension dropped to probably >40%, which was unfortunate because this was when the guide was explaining a lot of the history of Chile.
After the tour, I stopped at a heladería (ice cream shop) for a couple scoops of artisanal ice cream and then wandered Calle Lastarria. I stopped to watch and shoot the shit with a painter working on a large acrylic painting on the sidewalk for about 30 minutes.
I returned to the hostel in the early evening. When I went to my room, a six-bed dorm, I noticed some things I had left on my bed were missing. One of which was my Kindle, which I had left charging under the pillow. Long story short, over the course of the next few days all the missing items EXCEPT my Kindle turned up around the hostel. So my nearly decade old, beat up, cracked screen Kindle with 100 books and hundreds of saved highlights and notes was stolen. I didn’t care about losing the dollar value of the Kindle, and I can redownload all my books, but was most upset about losing all the precious highlights and notes. All for a street value of probably ~$20. Forrestal Hostel actually compensated me 40,000 Chilean Pesos, or ~$60, for the loss, which was an unexpected and nice gesture by them (probably because I had been chumming up with the staff of the hostel before the theft, and they liked me and felt bad).
That night I went out to La Junta Cervecería just off Calle Lastarria and had the Texicana Burger and a Calafate, a smooth, delicious regional craft beer in Chile.
The next day, I spent the early afternoon perusing the Museo del Bellas Artes, seeing a bunch of centuries old artwork. Then I headed to Barrio Bellavista to wander and explore the other hip, happening part of Santiago. For some reason Bellavista reminded me of Portland, Oregon. A quirky neighborhood with a lot of street art and grafitti, and many little restaurants, bars, and cafes with seating on the sidewalks. A good place to sit and people watch.
I stopped in a tienda and bought a 750ml Heineken, planning to take a gondola ride to the top of nearby Cerro San Cristobal and hang out and drink the beer at the top. When I arrived, I learned the teleferico was nonoperational that day, but instead took a funicular to the top. I’d never taken a funicular, so that was kind of cool. The top of Cerro San Cristobal was very nice with all types of walking paths to explore, lots of shops and food vendors, a church, an amphitheater, and the Virgin. I hung out at the top of the hill for a couple of hours, drinking my Heiny at a picnic table in the shade overlooking Santiago, and caught the last funicular down at 6pm.
In the evening, I tried out a couple of the small, almost food cart-like restaurants (small storefronts where there’s no seating, just a counter to put in your order and a few guys manning a tiny kitchen) in Lastarria. The first place I stopped was Buffalo Waffles, where I ordered a pastrami waffle, which is served basically like a wrap with the wrap being a fresh pressed, buttery waffle. Not the healthiest meal, but damn it was tasty. I ate it while congregating with the locals on the sidewalk out front the ‘restaurant’. Still hungry, I then stopped at Hogs a few doors down. Here I had a boar-meat sausage hotdog, Italian-style of course. I’d never had boar meat before, and it was a bit gamey, but it was spiced with paprika and pepper making it super choice.
The next morning, I discovered an interesting type of coffee joint unique to Santiago, “café y piernas.” These are basically the Hooters of cafes, where beautiful women in super high-cut shorts serve you coffee. I was out wandering about and just wanted a cup of joe. I was pleasantly surprised to unwittingly walk into Café Caribe and have a group of hot girls in short shorts beam “Buenos Dias!” to me as I walked in the door. I lingered for two cups of coffee 🙂
I walked around sightseeing around the Plaza de Armas for an hour, and walked by several significant buildings in El Centro Historico.
In the afternoon, I got some sushi, then headed northeast towards barrio Providencia, a wealthy area of the city.
On the way, I witnessed a clash between protesters and police in El Centro a few blocks away from the Plaza de Armas. A group of about 20 protesters battled against riot-gear clad police for about 30 minutes until the police eventually subdued all the protesters and loaded them into police cars and a paddy wagon. It was pretty intense. I was standing on the outskirts of a group of people about 15 yards from the action. A scuffle between two protesters and about five police came towards me and almost knocked into me. A man standing just beside me was knocked down and briefly trampled. I watched point-blank as the police brutally whacked the protesters with billy clubs until they were immobile on the pavement and a team of four police grabbed each person and hauled them head first into the paddy wagon. Seems wherever you go, people the world over are none too happy with their governments and acting out in increasingly violent ways.
In Provedencia, I went to Sky Costanera. The Costanera building is the tallest building in South America. They’re very proud of it in Santiago. It’s one of those silly tourist things you do in Santiago, like going to the Sear’s Tower in Chicago. I paid $15 and took an express elevator to the Skydeck on the 63rd floor, where I spent about an hour enjoying the 360-degree views and listening to a guide point out various sites and attractions in Santiago.
I spent some more time walking around in the Providencia neighborhood until evening, then took the subway back towards El Centro. I went to an Indian food restaurant I had seen earlier with a line out the door at lunchtime. There was again people waiting outside, but I only had to wait about 10 minutes for a table. Indian food is awesome! It’s my new favorite cuisine. I had samosas, lamb curry, and a mango lassi.
The next morning it was time to get a move on. I packed up, checked out, and then hoofed it to the nearest subway which I took east to the bus station. There I caught a bus to Valparaíso that left immediately. An hour and a half later I was at the bus station in Valpo. I took a taxi to Hostel Volante on Cerro Concepcíon and arrived at 1:15pm.
Valparaíso is port city on the Pacific coast just 70km west of Santiago. It is a small city of 250,000 built into hills that begin pushing steeply upward only a half kilometer from the coast. It has temporal coastal weather—sunny and hot in the summer, but grey, cool, and damp in the winter. The city has a progressive feel to it, with many artsy types hanging around in the parks, playing music, and painting. It is Chile’s main port. Something like half the city works for the port in one way or another. There is an interesting dichotomy between the conservative blue-collar port worker types and the progressive artist types that make up the other half of the city. Valpo is one of the most colorful, grafitti’d cities on earth (said to be second to only Berlin). There is nary a building in the city that doesn’t have some form or graffiti or artwork on the exterior. Up in the hills, the city sprawls without out much intentional planning. As such, there’s all types of cool pasajes, passageways, that wind and interconnect the hillside streets together. Nearly all these pasajes are covered top to bottom with street art, making it an amazing place to get lost wandering endlessly.
I spent all afternoon walking the city. I mostly spent a lot of time walking the pasajes, went to a few different lookouts, and walked down to the ocean. I stopped at a couple pubs and a Fuente for a few beers along the way. As I walked through the hills and snaking pasajes, I kept thinking the city would make a great set for a chase scene on foot in an action movie.
As the sun set, it started to rain, and I had to find my way out of a maze of pasajes and back to the hostel in a hurry before I got too wet. Back at home, I waited for the rain to subside for a bit, before heading out to Allegreto Pizza at the recommendation of the staff. It was good crust, good ingredients, but, like many places in South America, way too much cheese. Like a half pound of cheese. Overall, still pretty good for South American pizza. I washed it down with two of my new favorite beers, Calafates.
The morning I took the free walking tour of Valparaíso. I again went on the Spanish language version of the tour, and it was just me, two Spaniards, and our guide, Carmilla. Due to the small group, I was able to ask a lot of questions and get clarification on words I didn’t understand, which made the tour much more enjoyable. Aside from the normal churches, parks, etc. that the walking tours usually hit, the place that stood out the most on this tour was the Valparaíso cemetery, which is an interesting labyrinth graves and monuments. At the end of the tour we had the popular Chilean drink of red wine mixed with Coca-Cola, wtf.
In the afternoon, I did some other Valparaíso tourist things: I rode on a trolley along the coast, took the #612 bus, which goes way up into the hills above the city, and rode the Ascensor Artillería to the top of a hill where, in a mesmerized state, I watched the huge port cranes load and unloaded hundreds of shipping crates from a gigantic cargo ship from Korea for almost an hour. The ascensors are old funiculars that transport townspeople up and down the myriad hills of the city. I also stopped at a small restobar to have Pino empanadas (minced meat with onions, hard-boiled egg, raisins, and olives), a specialty of Valpo. Finally, I was all pooped out from walking all up and down countless hills, and headed back to the hostel for a siesta, stopping at the local street fruit and vegetable market on the way.
In the late afternoon, I woke up and walked a few blocks up Cerro Concepcíon and stopped at Café Entre Cerros for an afternoon cup of java with a view over the city to the ocean. I stayed for a couple of hours and did some writing while I watched the sun dip into the Pacific Ocean.
In the evening, I went out to Café del Pintor, a highly rated restaurant located nearby. I had their specialty, Reineta (Whitefish). It was smothered in a butter herb sauce. The fish was so fresh, it must’ve been pulled out of the ocean earlier in the day. It was incredible.
The next morning, I went for a constitutional in which explored a couple more pasajes and hiked to the top of a hill to admire the view for a while. On the way, I stopped in a few shops to gather groceries, and then went home to make a big brunch.
I spent the rest of the day playing poker. It was another breakeven-ish day. I’m getting tired of writing that nothing much happened in my weekly Sunday poker battling. I will need to remedy that with a big score soon.
Monday morning, it was time to keep rambling. I packed my things, made breakfast, then headed down Cerro Concepcíon towards the center of town and caught a bus to the terminal. I missed my stop, but luckily the bus driver was actually paying attention and realized I didn’t get off at the terminal and let me off a block later. I caught the 12:15pm to Santiago.
Back in Mendoza, I had met John, a Venezuelan who now lived in Santiago. He had fled Venezuela during the current collapse of their socialist government and ensuing turmoil. He was training to be a sommelier in Santiago (hence why he was in Mendoza wine country), but volunteered at a hostel in the meantime. He told me to give him a ring if/when I was in Santiago, and he could hook me up with a place to stay. I’d forgot to call him the previous week while in Santiago, but sent him a text during the bus ride. He responded and told me to come on by.
I arrived in Santiago around 2pm. I immediately bought a bus ticket back into Argentina for the next morning. Then I took the subway towards Bellavista, and walked the last 10 blocks to arrive at Backpacker’s Hostel. John welcomed me in, and gave me a bed for the night free of charge. What a guy. He had to go to work at his other job at a fine dining restaurant, so I spent the afternoon hanging at the hostel, getting high with Javier from French Guiana and Doogie from Korea.
In the late afternoon, I headed to Cerro St. Lucia, on the edge of Barrio Lastarria to hike it and explore. There’s an old castle at the top and a bunch of nice gardens and statues. I chilled there laying in the grass until sunset.
On the way home, I stopped for a re-up at Fuente Aleman. I got the ever delicious churrasco Italiano with a pint of Calafate. I picked up a few more Calafates on the way back to the hostel. John still wasn’t home from work, so I drank them with Javier and chilled idly before turning in early.
The next morning, my alarm went off at 7am. John got up when I did, so we could at least hang out over breakfast since we didn’t get to chill the prior day. John is a cool guy, whose story gives me pause. Venezuela’s economic and political situation has been disintegrating for years after the death of Hugo Chavez and the subsequent implosion of the country’s socialist government, reaching chilling climaxes in the past few months. John fled Venezuela with barely $100 when food riots broke out in his neighborhood. With nothing more than a desire to better his situation, he made it all the way to Chile, found lodging and work, and was now on his way to becoming a sommelier. He works some 75 hours a week, but I never heard him bitch about it once. We have it so hard in the Western world, let me tell you.
At 8:20am, I thanked and said goodbye to John, and then walked to the subway station. I made it to the bus station right at 9am, boarded my bus, and was on the road back to Mendoza by 9:10am with Led Zeppelin ringing in my earbuds: Ramble on! Now’s the time, the time is now! To sing my song! I’m going round the world, got to find my girl! On my Wayy! I’ve been this way one year to the day! Ramble on!
cool article! I must have played ramble on most mornings when I was doing the annapurna circuit last year :-)… started playing the celebration day version too…