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MERRY CHRISTMAS!  I had a wonderful Christmas Eve, especially when the doorbell rang and it was a guy delivering four tickets to the BCS National Championship Game at the Rose Bowl!!  Thank you, Uncle Mike!  What an awesome Christmas…

I went out on Wednesday night with dad and Jean to see Blind Side, which was an excellent movie.  It actually reminded me of my cousin Chase because Ole Miss was featured in the movie a lot and he committed to play football there next year.  If you’re a fan of football, especially the SEC, go see Blind Side.  It seems a little dated because none of the coaches that guest star in the movie are still at the schools they represent in the film, but it’s still cool to see them.

I don’t want to write too much before I finish posting the rest of the details about my RTW trip, but I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!

10/30/09

As we began our descent into Santiago, the capital of Chile, I had an incredible view of the Andes mountains.  They flank the eastern side of the city and the view was spectacular because the sun was rising behind them.  There was even a little snow at the higher elevations.

Once we landed Phil and I made our way to the immigration area, paid the $130 fee for our visas, passed through the actual immigration line and then got our luggage and passed through customs.  On our way through the airport towards the outside, I asked about a taxi ride into the city at a little kiosk and was quoted something outrageous (I don’t remember the exact amount, but it was like $60).  Instead of agreeing to that, we headed outside and smoked a cigarette to slow down and get our bearings.  While we were smoking, a guy came up to us and asked about a private transfer into the city.  It was going to be something like $30, so we agreed and followed him out to the parking lot where we tipped him a few Chilean pesos before hopping into a van with a different guy driving.

We shared the van into Santiago, but we had two different destinations.

Phil didn’t want to go the budget route, understandably so because he was on a 10 day vacation instead of a 9 week one like I was.  In order for me to travel continuously for so long I had to stay in hostels, eat at cheap places, go with budget tours, etc.  Phil had also been apprehensive about planning the trip as we went, instead he wanted everything planned before arriving in Chile.  He emailed me half a dozen times saying he wanted to know what the plan was and each time I told him my plan was to stay in budget places, take buses everywhere, and pay for budget tours once I got into Patagonia, but he wasn’t satisfied with that so he booked his entire trip once I’d already left on my RTW.  He paid a travel agent in Santiago an exorbitant fee (turned out to be about $800) in order to remove the uncertainty of planning as we went.

I can understand being nervous about traveling in a foreign country – fear of the unknown, but I told him over and over we’d be fine.  Anyhow, he made up his mind and decided the extra cost was better than the worry.  My only pre-planning had been to arrange to stay in the most centrally located hostel in the Santiago for the first two nights and I booked a round trip flight between Santiago and Punta Arenas (in Patagonia).  I had no idea how I’d be getting from town to town in Patagonia, where I’d be staying or which tours I’d be taking.  I left all that to chance so I’d be more free to pick up and move on as I pleased and so that I could save money.  Phil booked himself a room at this swanky $200 per night hotel in Santiago for the first night because he had a coupon for a free night’s stay at that chain, and he refused to stay at a hostel.  I’m not really sure what his aversion to hostels is, but he said over and over that he didn’t want to.

Phil wanted to check in first and since I didn’t care either way we took the shared van from the airport to his ritzy hotel.  He checked in but they didn’t have a room ready, so they gave him access to a shower where he could freshen up.  I’d been traveling for over 60 hours at this point, but my freshening up was doing the backpacker thing – washed my face and changed underwear and t-shirt, then I went out to the rooftop pool and smoked cigarettes while Phil took a shower and got all dolled up.

Once he was ready he dropped his stuff off with a bellhop and we took a taxi over to the Plaza de Armas so I could drop my stuff off at my hostel.  The Plaza de Armas is the name of the main square in most large Latin American countries, and it is usually in the dead center of town.  I knew my hostel would be in a great location and that’s my main objective in finding hostels because it cuts down on transportation costs.  The hostel surpassed my expectations because not only was it on the main square, but it was on the top floor of a building on the square so it had balconies that opened up and looked over the square for a great view.  The guys working at the hostel were cool and joked around a lot, and it had a really laid back vibe.  Unfortunately, they didn’t have my room ready yet either.  I had reserved a private room instead of one of the dorm rooms.  I prefer a private bathroom if possible and since their private rooms had en-suite facilities for only $35 a night, I went with it.

Phil and I decided to head out into the streets and check the plaza out.  We ended up stopping at a little alfresco restaurant right on the square, where we had what I guess was brunch because it was around 10am-11am at that point.  We had some ham sandwiches and some of the local brew, Cristal.  While we sat there drinking beer, a huge crowd started to gather in the square.  In less than an hour this entire massive plaza filled up with tons of protesters.

All the protesters were chanting and carrying signs.  We found out from an American expat who sat at the table next to us that they were all professors who were protesting against the government lying about pay raises.  Apparently 3 years ago the government promised a raise of something like $200 a month more for the teachers, but they never delivered and the teachers were pissed.  A guy told me that it was unfortunate for students because the teachers had been on strike for so long (several weeks) that most students are going to have to repeat the grade they’re in.

After all the protesters marched away and we finished our beer, I went back to the hostel to wait for my room to open up.  I got on their wifi and sent emails and blogged some.  Phil left to go back to his hotel and I waited around for what seemed like forever before my room was ready.  I spent some of that spare time asking about things to do and see in Santiago and I asked about the best way to line up a bus ticket in Patagonia, but really the brochures and staff weren’t that helpful.  Finally my room was ready.  I actually was given 3 different keys for my room and led down the hall.  When you exit out of the main hostel door you take a left, walk past the elevator and on down the hall to this random door.  One of the keys opens the deadbolt and the other opens the doorknob lock, then you enter into a large common room.  The common room has a few couches and chairs, a full kitchen, a computer and a door leading out to a private balcony.  Off of the main room are two private bedrooms, one of which was mine.  The room was kinda small but the bathroom was huge.  I took a shower and caught a quick nap, which effectively ended the longest traveling day of my life – Jo’burg to Atlanta to Birmingham to Atlanta to Santiago.

Later in the evening I met up with Phil so we could go out for dinner.  We walked all over the area near the Plaza de Armas looking for somewhere to eat, but oddly there didn’t seem to be as many restaurants as you’d think there should be in order to support all the people out in the streets.  Tons of people were out walking around, but most of the shops along all the pedestrian only streets were clothing stores.  After about 30 minutes I asked a little street vendor lady where we could find a restaurant serving “comida tradicional de Chile” and she pointed us just half a block away.  We walked past a building that reminded me of a shorter version of NYC’s Flatiron building and found the little nondescript Chilean restaurant.

We walked into what looked like an old restaurant in NYC!  Waiters in white jackets rushing around (not smiling either), lots of noise from people talking, dim lighting, etc.  We walked towards the back and sat down.  The menu was entirely in Spanish and our Telly Savalas look-alike waiter didn’t speak a lick of English.  I tried to ask what type of fish would he recommend because everything I read said Chile is known for their great seafood since they have a ton of coastline.  The couple at the table next to us watched and listened and eventually the guy leaned over and helped me out because he spoke a tiny bit of English; I really appreciated it.  He explained what Phil’s steak would come with (eggs?).

This restaurant reinforced our earlier observation that Santiago is not an English friendly city.  I had imagined that a cosmopolitan city in possibly the most first world country in South America would have plenty of English speakers, particularly in the service industry: restaurants, hotels, bus stations, metro stations, etc.  I was wrong.  Besides two people at Phil’s hotel and three at my hostel, we hadn’t met a single person that spoke any English whatsoever, and trust me, we tried with dozens of people.  More people speak English in Tokyo, Cuzco, Paris, Luang Prabang, Kathmandu, Marrakesh, Istanbul or just about any other major world city…

The meal was excellent.  After dinner I wanted to try the sangria so I asked the guy to our left who had explained the menu to us what the sangria looking stuff in the little pitcher he was sharing with his wife would be called and he told me something other than sangria.  The lady said something to him and motioned for me to try some of their drink, so the guy handed me his glass and I sipped it.  It tasted just like sangria to me, and after they motioned for me to pass it on to Phil I did.  We ordered a pitcher and soon after the couple said goodbye and left.

While we drank our pitcher we started communicating with the two guys at the table to our right.  They were obviously regulars because they kept joking with our waiter and giving him a hard time, especially after he dropped something and broke it.  The guy that kept talking to me only spoke Spanish, but I blew the dust off my Spanish skill set and tried for a while to talk to him.  They were drinking some sort of white sangria and he said it was a good drink for the summertime because it’s really refreshing.  He also handed me his glass and let us sample the white sangria.  I wish I remembered what it was called because it was good.  It was pretty cool to be eating in this locals joint and meeting people that just hand their personal glass over to strangers to sample their drinks.  So far, everyone we’d come in contact with had been really friendly.  I just wish they would have known a little English, but it wasn’t too bad because I speak passable Spanish.

After the meal, we walked back to the Plaza de Armas and sat at the same place where we had our brunch earlier in the day.  We sat down for a few beers and watched the crazy crowd going by.  The plaza was hoppin’ with all sorts of people, like a guy dressed up as a red circle, punk rockers with plastic pants, caricature artists trying to convince passersby to sit down and two different competing amateur astronomers who we ended up paying to view the moon and Saturn (or was it Jupiter?) through a telescope.

When we finished star gazing we went up to the hostel’s rooftop balcony and hung out for a while before Phil left to head back to his hotel.  I stayed out on the balcony for a while, talking to a female traveler from Indonesia and a Peruvian guy who had gone to school in Reno for a while.  I wish I remembered their names, but I did enjoy talking to both of them, and they both spoke perfect English!    When I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer, I told them goodnight and went down the hall to my room.  I smoked a cigarette on my private balcony and then brushed my teeth and hit the sack.

10/31/09

I slept like a rock, but still got up fairly early – around 7:30am.  I showered and then went to the main part of the hostel for breakfast.  I spent a few hours talking to the staff and the Peruvian guy from the night before to find out what there was to do.  Everyone recommended a trip up to the top of Cerro San Cristóbal, a mountain in the middle of Santiago with a statue of Mary on top and views of the Andes and the entire city below.

Phil made his way to the Plaza de Armas in the afternoon.  He had already checked out of his swanky hotel and moved into a different place because his 1 free night had expired.  We walked around for a while.  We went into a church on the main plaza and then look for somewhere to have lunch.  We ended up going to one of the local joints along the bottom floor of the building where my hostel was.  If you ever watch Anthony Bourdain’s show, No Reservations, you may remember him eating one of the most popular fast food items in Chile, a “completo”.  The completo is a long hot dog on a toasted bun, covered in tomatoes, guacamole and a huge pile of  mayonnaise.  It doesn’t sound very good and in fact it wasn’t, but the Chileans are very passionate about their mayo.  I ended up wiping off about 75% of the mayo after the first 2 bites because it was just too much.

After lunch we caught a cab to the base of Cerro San Cristobal and checked out a hotel across the street because we wanted to line something up for our return to Santiago after we finished up Patagonia.

We crossed back over the street and asked the lady at a little kiosk what we had to do to get to the top of the mountain and she pointed us towards a little castle where we needed to buy tickets for the funicular.  On the way to the castle we passed by some little souvenir booths and noticed that the Chilean flag looks a whole lot like Texas’ Lone Star state flag.  Actually, we saw a Chilean flag ballcap that had their flag in the shape of Texas!

We bought our funicular tickets, waited in line for a while, and then rode up to the top of the mountain.  We checked out the views from several sections and went up to the top where the statue of Mary and a little church were, plus we saw a memorial wall and lots of beautiful flowers.  Once we got back down to the main plaza where the funicular station is, I ordered this strange drink that all the locals were sipping on.  It had some sort of oats and a large peach like thing in it, and it tasted like a syrupy sweet tea.  It was called mote con huesillo.

We went back down the mountain on the funicular and walked along the long street at the base that leads back towards the river.  The street was lined with restaurants and bars and the area looked a lot more sketchy than the other places we’d seen so far.  The walls had graffiti and there were punks sitting around with crazy hair and spiked leather jackets.  We continued walking along that street, stopping to shop at little artisan stalls a few times.  I bought some beads for Jean and Phil bought some jewelry for his neighbor.  While Phil was shopping, I witnessed a snatch and grab, or at least the tail end of it.  This guy was sprinting by me on the sidewalk, with a guy in an SUV driving alongside and yelling at him.  The guy stopped for a second and threw down a necklace and then sprinted off just as the guy in the SUV put his truck in park and hopped out.  A couple came walking up and the girl looked shaken.  The guy running by had yanked her necklace off and ran away, but the random stranger in the SUV had pursued him and gotten it back.  The area was definitely too scabby to want to stay there…

We walked across a bridge and to the subway station where we took the train to a station near Phil’s second hotel.  We ordered a couple of tiny bottles of Chilean wine from the little bar near the front desk and drank them in the courtyard.  It was a nice place and the staff were all friendly, but once again nobody spoke English.  We both liked it and the location was pretty good so we made reservations for when we returned from Patagonia.  After several bottles of wine we took a taxi back to the Plaza de Armas and walked around looking for somewhere to eat dinner.  As we were walking along this pedestrian only street I stopped to take a picture of some punks with mohawks and one of them yelled at me and gave me the finger!  It seems ridiculous that a guy with a foot tall bleached blond mohawk would expect people to not notice him…

Later in the evening we wanted to get a 12 pack of beer and ended up finding a really helpful university student that led us around all over the place until we found a place with bars over a window where you pass the cash through and your beer is pushed back between the bars.  It reminded me of the liquor store in Jo’burg!  We took the beer back to the hostel balcony and talked with the other travelers and Rodrigo, who worked there, for about an hour before calling it a night.

I went to sleep fairly early because the next day I needed to be up and out of there early for more traveling, this time down to Patagonia.

Here are the photos from my first two days in Santiago:

This entry was posted on Friday, December 25th, 2009 at 2:42 pm and is filed under Patagonia, Round-The-World 2009. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.