March 17th, 2006, Santiago, Chile
We arrived in Santiago in the afternoon, the weather was spectacular and the sun glinted off the buildings, big and small, new and old. Santiago is certainly the biggest city i've seen in South America, and by far the most European feeling. The city is beautiful, with broad avenues, plazas galore, and excellent colonial architecture everywhere. It is also more expensive, busier, and more polluted. Smog hangs in the air obscuring the famous and daunting Andes that lie just to the East.
We caught a taxi (for waaaaay too much, they totally ripped us off) to Barrio Brazil, and Plaza Brazil specifically. Again, we are guided by our book, and I want to take this moment to give a very special and very sincere thank you to my Mom for giving me that book. It has been such an amazing aid, and has enriched our experience, the value of that being totally uncalculateable.
Barrio Brazil is the East Village of Santiago. It is cool, hip, young, and has many hostels, restaurants, bars, and cafes. We had out taxi drop us off outside of an internet cafe on the plaza and we interfaced with the internet. Made our calls and decided to head to a hostel recommended in the book. It was not easy to walk comfortably with that large duffel bag that but I managed. I have no idea how far I walked with that bag (and my backpack of course) but it was as little as possible. By the time we made our two block trek to the hostel we were looking for I was sore and sweaty.
We had the address from the book, but found an entrance to a hostel with a different name and number. As we found this one first we decided to take a look. The ornate wooden doors opened to a colonial building and a wide and tall staircase. By the looks of this alone I knew it was not the 'value' hostel we had been seeking, but we thought what the heck, let's give it a try. So up the stairs I tramped growing sweatier, this new sweat now mixing with the toil and grime of the road (a 26 hour road film is substantial even if not visible). Upstairs it was cool though, with tall ceilings, fans dangling from above. The interior and decor spoke of high fashion done on a budget. Funky furniture made of mixed materials, bamboo, dark old woods, strangely curving members, and unusual brass fixtures. The couches were really pillows, over stuffed and set on a simple frame, but of materials and textures inspiring visions of the silk route and indian bazars. I knew right away we were out of our price range.
We spoke with the receptionist who was both friendly and a bit distant at the same time, a trait I'll have to study more before I can mimic it believably. They had a room, number 7 to be precise. They had a modern kitchen with everything and free coffee (I think Jojo fell in love right then and there), a giant tv room with a big flat screen, a dvd collection, and satellite cable. They had a reading room with a roof deck adjacent and a collection of books for trade. They had it all, and to top it all off, room number 7 had it's own bathroom and a nice, clean shower.
We backed out of there. Slowly, cautiously, and with pangs of regret and fantasies about our budget's buffer size we walked back down the stairs with that bag... and out into the heat and sun. Down the block about 100 feet was the hostel of our original intent, Hostel San Patricio. We entered through a throng of workers lazing in the shade at it's doorstep. The entrance of this hostel was more familiar. Filled with noise and old worn furniture, bizarre paintings and pictures, a cluttered desk and waiting room with a man slumbering in the corner. The matron greeted us with news that squirmed through my mind and pockets with ease and a certain amount of justification; "we're full." We made reservations for the next night, and exited back into the street from whence we had just re-returned.
It was easy to convince each other that one night of luxury after 26 hours of bus (well, 36 with a quick sleep between) was worth the hit to our bank accounts. We slipped back into the Happy Hostel and I lugged that bag back up those steps one last time. The lady at the desk had a knowing smile on her face and led us to our destiny, Room Number 7. We collapsed onto the bed, muscles unwinding, and relaxation evident in easy smiles and laughs. We'd made it Santiago and this was the life.
Our room had a short balcony with double doors and shutters, and when open, our room was filled with light, all the way up to the high ceilings. We showered and changed, and the light, the clean bathroom, and the room all to ourselves was like a renewal to our traveling spirits. After a quick nap we decided to head out. The Book listed some vegetarian restaurants, so we chose one in the center of the city and began walking east.
Santiago has some excellent architecture, both colonial and contemporary. Walking through the city like this, fresh from our nap, and fresh from the excitement of traveling and adventure was marvelous for me, and for Jojo as well I believe. The sun was setting behind us and casting it's orange hues on the tips of the tall downtown, and nearby apartment, buildings. As the sun set, and the sky darkened we wound our way in towards the city center. Unfortunately for our stomachs the place we had chosen was closed, so we asked the advice of a street vendor for a different vegetarian restaurant. She directed us further in towards the center, and through the main pedestrian and commercial mall of the city.
We found as we walked further in a city full of life and commerce. Vendors everywhere, stores open late, music, evangelizing, art, all the things you might and might not expect in a city anywhere in the world. We found our restaurant and sat down to an excellent meal, but again we were surprised and a bit off put by the relatively expensive cost of everything in Chile. To put it clearly, Chile costs about the same as the US. Some things are a bit cheaper but overall it is very comparable to Portland, or in some parts New York, Paris, London... you get the idea. Colonialism is very effective, and insipid. We could have been in Barcelona as easily as Santiago.
After dinner we walked through the mall, browsed some shops, and ate some ice cream. It was an excellent evening, and Jojo and I were living it up. We decided to go for a drink, and began walking back to Plaza Brazil. By the time we got there the night life had begun (Which means 10 p.m. at the earliest) and all of the cafes and bars were spilling out onto the sidewalks with tables full of merrymakers and diners. We chose one at random and ordered an inexpensive bottle of Chilean wine, and drank it slowly at a table on the sidewalk of Avenida Brazil.
After our wine and conversation (and some fending off of walking vendors, which are everywhere) we began to walk in the direction of our hostel and warm fluffy bed. As we were walking Jojo offered to give me a piggy-back ride, mostly as a test and display of her incredible leg strength. She managed to port me 30 feet, and as I dismounted we noticed some Chileans just behind us and walking in the same direction imitating our tomfoolery. They were laughing easily as were we, and we enjoyed that connection of a universal language as we crossed the street (all afoot).
We had seen on our setting out for dinner a bar a block or so from our hostel called Bar Estudiante, and it was still on our way back so we were considering checking it out for a beer before bed. The Chileans with whom we had already shared a laugh ended up entering the bar right in front of us, and as we entered and stood a bit self-consciously in the entrance we were welcomed to the table of our new friends.
Diego, Daniel, Jojo, and Eduardo were all excellent Chileans and lived in Santiago. We drank Cristal (the beer, not the champaign) and shared the usual fine things that people from different countries share when they meet. We talked about ourselves and our travels, and they told us about themselves and before we knew it we were toasting each other's health and inviting each other to our future weddings and homes. We finished our second round of big beers and Diego decided it was time to leave the bar (despite Jojo having put songs into the juke box that hadn't played yet) and head to Plaza Brazil for another round. We sat down by some bushes and drank shared another beer, but there was more fun to be had in the plaza. There are playground structures there built of concrete, slides, castles, and a dragon, all like something out of Parque Guiel by Antonio Guadi (which is in Barcelona, hmmmm... yet another connection)
We slid and played, and had fun, just like that. It was an amazing night, and a great introduction to Santiago. We made plans to meet again the next night and said our goodbyes, and made our way back to our heavenly hostel.
We caught a taxi (for waaaaay too much, they totally ripped us off) to Barrio Brazil, and Plaza Brazil specifically. Again, we are guided by our book, and I want to take this moment to give a very special and very sincere thank you to my Mom for giving me that book. It has been such an amazing aid, and has enriched our experience, the value of that being totally uncalculateable.
Barrio Brazil is the East Village of Santiago. It is cool, hip, young, and has many hostels, restaurants, bars, and cafes. We had out taxi drop us off outside of an internet cafe on the plaza and we interfaced with the internet. Made our calls and decided to head to a hostel recommended in the book. It was not easy to walk comfortably with that large duffel bag that but I managed. I have no idea how far I walked with that bag (and my backpack of course) but it was as little as possible. By the time we made our two block trek to the hostel we were looking for I was sore and sweaty.
We had the address from the book, but found an entrance to a hostel with a different name and number. As we found this one first we decided to take a look. The ornate wooden doors opened to a colonial building and a wide and tall staircase. By the looks of this alone I knew it was not the 'value' hostel we had been seeking, but we thought what the heck, let's give it a try. So up the stairs I tramped growing sweatier, this new sweat now mixing with the toil and grime of the road (a 26 hour road film is substantial even if not visible). Upstairs it was cool though, with tall ceilings, fans dangling from above. The interior and decor spoke of high fashion done on a budget. Funky furniture made of mixed materials, bamboo, dark old woods, strangely curving members, and unusual brass fixtures. The couches were really pillows, over stuffed and set on a simple frame, but of materials and textures inspiring visions of the silk route and indian bazars. I knew right away we were out of our price range.
We spoke with the receptionist who was both friendly and a bit distant at the same time, a trait I'll have to study more before I can mimic it believably. They had a room, number 7 to be precise. They had a modern kitchen with everything and free coffee (I think Jojo fell in love right then and there), a giant tv room with a big flat screen, a dvd collection, and satellite cable. They had a reading room with a roof deck adjacent and a collection of books for trade. They had it all, and to top it all off, room number 7 had it's own bathroom and a nice, clean shower.
We backed out of there. Slowly, cautiously, and with pangs of regret and fantasies about our budget's buffer size we walked back down the stairs with that bag... and out into the heat and sun. Down the block about 100 feet was the hostel of our original intent, Hostel San Patricio. We entered through a throng of workers lazing in the shade at it's doorstep. The entrance of this hostel was more familiar. Filled with noise and old worn furniture, bizarre paintings and pictures, a cluttered desk and waiting room with a man slumbering in the corner. The matron greeted us with news that squirmed through my mind and pockets with ease and a certain amount of justification; "we're full." We made reservations for the next night, and exited back into the street from whence we had just re-returned.
It was easy to convince each other that one night of luxury after 26 hours of bus (well, 36 with a quick sleep between) was worth the hit to our bank accounts. We slipped back into the Happy Hostel and I lugged that bag back up those steps one last time. The lady at the desk had a knowing smile on her face and led us to our destiny, Room Number 7. We collapsed onto the bed, muscles unwinding, and relaxation evident in easy smiles and laughs. We'd made it Santiago and this was the life.
Our room had a short balcony with double doors and shutters, and when open, our room was filled with light, all the way up to the high ceilings. We showered and changed, and the light, the clean bathroom, and the room all to ourselves was like a renewal to our traveling spirits. After a quick nap we decided to head out. The Book listed some vegetarian restaurants, so we chose one in the center of the city and began walking east.
Santiago has some excellent architecture, both colonial and contemporary. Walking through the city like this, fresh from our nap, and fresh from the excitement of traveling and adventure was marvelous for me, and for Jojo as well I believe. The sun was setting behind us and casting it's orange hues on the tips of the tall downtown, and nearby apartment, buildings. As the sun set, and the sky darkened we wound our way in towards the city center. Unfortunately for our stomachs the place we had chosen was closed, so we asked the advice of a street vendor for a different vegetarian restaurant. She directed us further in towards the center, and through the main pedestrian and commercial mall of the city.
We found as we walked further in a city full of life and commerce. Vendors everywhere, stores open late, music, evangelizing, art, all the things you might and might not expect in a city anywhere in the world. We found our restaurant and sat down to an excellent meal, but again we were surprised and a bit off put by the relatively expensive cost of everything in Chile. To put it clearly, Chile costs about the same as the US. Some things are a bit cheaper but overall it is very comparable to Portland, or in some parts New York, Paris, London... you get the idea. Colonialism is very effective, and insipid. We could have been in Barcelona as easily as Santiago.
After dinner we walked through the mall, browsed some shops, and ate some ice cream. It was an excellent evening, and Jojo and I were living it up. We decided to go for a drink, and began walking back to Plaza Brazil. By the time we got there the night life had begun (Which means 10 p.m. at the earliest) and all of the cafes and bars were spilling out onto the sidewalks with tables full of merrymakers and diners. We chose one at random and ordered an inexpensive bottle of Chilean wine, and drank it slowly at a table on the sidewalk of Avenida Brazil.
After our wine and conversation (and some fending off of walking vendors, which are everywhere) we began to walk in the direction of our hostel and warm fluffy bed. As we were walking Jojo offered to give me a piggy-back ride, mostly as a test and display of her incredible leg strength. She managed to port me 30 feet, and as I dismounted we noticed some Chileans just behind us and walking in the same direction imitating our tomfoolery. They were laughing easily as were we, and we enjoyed that connection of a universal language as we crossed the street (all afoot).
We had seen on our setting out for dinner a bar a block or so from our hostel called Bar Estudiante, and it was still on our way back so we were considering checking it out for a beer before bed. The Chileans with whom we had already shared a laugh ended up entering the bar right in front of us, and as we entered and stood a bit self-consciously in the entrance we were welcomed to the table of our new friends.
Diego, Daniel, Jojo, and Eduardo were all excellent Chileans and lived in Santiago. We drank Cristal (the beer, not the champaign) and shared the usual fine things that people from different countries share when they meet. We talked about ourselves and our travels, and they told us about themselves and before we knew it we were toasting each other's health and inviting each other to our future weddings and homes. We finished our second round of big beers and Diego decided it was time to leave the bar (despite Jojo having put songs into the juke box that hadn't played yet) and head to Plaza Brazil for another round. We sat down by some bushes and drank shared another beer, but there was more fun to be had in the plaza. There are playground structures there built of concrete, slides, castles, and a dragon, all like something out of Parque Guiel by Antonio Guadi (which is in Barcelona, hmmmm... yet another connection)
We slid and played, and had fun, just like that. It was an amazing night, and a great introduction to Santiago. We made plans to meet again the next night and said our goodbyes, and made our way back to our heavenly hostel.
posted by Greenstigator at 5:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home