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Thanks to Patricio we made it to the Vina Del Mar bus terminal with time to spare. Our bus departed at 5am on the dot and we were off… to Santiago airport on route to our next destination, the Peruvian capital Lima.
We arrived at the airport at 6.30am, way too early for our 9.40am flight. So we loitered around looking to spend the last of our Chilean pesos. My last contribution to the local economy was a Dunkin’ Donut sandwich and a muffin – sweet blueberry!
We waited 3 hours only to find out our plane has been delayed at Buenos Aries. Another 2 hours has passed and an announcement was made informing the increasingly restless passengers that LAN has over booked our flight and for any passengers with flexible itineraries to approach the counter – that would be us.
The deal was: if we give up our seats and go to Lima on a later flight (9.05pm) LAN would give each of us either US$200 cash or a US$600 flight voucher and a stay at a local hotel. Our deliberation took less than a minutes. Cash, free flights and our own room? HELL YEAH!
After waiting another 4 hours to sort out the paperwork we finally arrived at the Diego De Almagro. It’s one of those hotels right by the airport but it’s 4 star and much better than the hostels we were use to.
Our evening flight too off without a hitch and we landed in Lima at 11pm local time. Now all we need is our luggage and a good night sleep. But where’s our luggage? You guess it, the idiots at LAN lost our luggage…
At this point we’ve been on the road for 20 hours, I’ve only had 3 hours sleep and I was starting to lose it. The walls felt like they were closing in and I felt this strange urge to strangle and kill.
There was another hour wait at the lost luggage claims queue (apparently we weren’t the only ones with missing bags) but luckily our backpacks were safely waiting for us in a storage room. It turned out our bags arrived 12 hours early with our original flight but of course nobody told us.
Whatever. It’s Christmas eve, I’m exhausted and I’m in Lima with all my stuff. Merry Christmas one and all.
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- Dunkin’ Donut at the airport
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- The boys at Diego De Almagro
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- Our 3 course lunch
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- Our own room
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- Still smiling after 20 hours
It’s 4am on Christmas eve
Need more sleep but we got to leave
Brushing teeth, a last minute wee
Wishing I’ve time for ham and cheese
The taxi was booked the night before
To arrive at our door at half past four
Once more across the floor
It’s such a chore, it’s friggin hardcore
The cab should be here
It feels like we’ve been waiting for a year
Then Patricio appeared
Yeah! we cheered
Still stinking of wine but he reckons he’s fine
Still wearing his pyjamas with the fine white lines
Jumping in his truck
We’re fucked if we get stuck
Clutching at my lucky buck
We need to get outta this rut
Driving down the street where the locals eat
The pedal met his feet that’s how we cheated defeat
Patrico the hero I wanna be ya
We said thanks for the ride before we said see ya
Thanks for the hospitality
Thanks for putting up with me
Thanks for everything señor Garcia
Anyone with a penis will know what I’m talking about. Boys absolutely love challenging each other with feats of courage, endurance or stupidity especially when there’s money involved. NO? maybe it’s just me.
Dennis and I are constantly at it. He’ll dare me to drink unsanitised water for 50 bucks and I up the ante by doubling it if he eats bread tainted with dog shit. Usually these dares amount to nothing but if one of us steps up, loads of laughs are guaranteed and is well worth the money involved.
A couple of years ago I nearly paid the ultimate price. Dennis and I were holidaying in New Caledonia and he challenged me to an underwater swim. It was a small pool and I was so confident in my abilities I even gave him a one lap handicap. To cut a long story short he did 5 laps. My foot slipped on the all important push off so I was disadvantaged from the beginning. I hate being beaten, especially by Dennis so I persevered. I did my 6 and half laps and emerged from the water triumphant but blue from asphyxiation. I lost feeling in my right leg and I nearly collapsed. I received $7 for this potential exposure to brain damage – but I won, so it was well worth it!
The Little Castle Hostel sits on a hill with 3 flights of stairs leading up to its back entrance. I jog up and down these stairs every morning and know each lap is a bitch.
THE CHALLENGE: if Dennis does 10 laps in under 7 minutes he will be rewarded with 10,000 pesos ($22). Easy money he thought, but he overestimated his fitness. He started off well but gave up after less than 2 laps – pussy!
We all figured 10 laps is too much but 7 is probably doable. This time Sam is up for the challenge. Sam’s strategy took inspiration from the fabled tortoise – slow and steady. The 1st lap took him 1:20, he’ll have to average this lap time throughout to have any chance.
It was around the 3rd lap when Sam started to fade. He breath was heavy, his legs started to wobble and he was no longer responding to our taunts. 2 laps to go and Sam still has 3 minutes… Damn, it was gonna be tight. Knowing the finish line was in sight, Sam quickened his pace. I was preparing myself to dish out 10G and secretly hoped he’ll collaps or something.
Alas, Sam did triumph over the Castle’s steps and won himself a free night’s accommodation (his time – 9:45). Well done Sammy, it was well worth the effort.
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- The Little Castle
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- Dennis fading fast
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- Slow and steady Sam
They have some hectic buses here in Viña Del Mar. I don’t know if it’s the heat or just their firey South American nature but drivers here are loco! They squeeze into nonexistent gaps, honk incessantly and absolutely fang it everywhere from crowded streets to narrow cliff tops. Each ride is a near death experience but it’s entertaining as hell.
It’s our third day here in this sleep beach side town. We’ve been to the beach and checked out the mall so we decided to take the bus to Valparaiso, a near by historic port to see what it has to offer…
…Turns out, not very much. Don’t get me wrong, I love a historic port as much as the next guy and the view from the top of Cerro Alegre was really nice but I was kinda expecting a bit more.
To be honest the bus ride was way better. The buses here are a constant cacophony of sounds and action. Street vendors would jump on and off at will, selling anything from newspapers to snacks. There are buskers at most traffic lights. These traffic light buskers are amazing. So far I’ve seen acrobats, clowns and magicians. All you get in Sydney are bums with squeegies.
On the way back from Valparaiso a one man band hopped on to our bus and played a catchy folk tune. I had no idea what he was singing about but it was well worth the 1400 pesos I handed over.
The driver seemed to enjoy it as well, he was smiling and occasionally bopped his head to the melody. Isn’t that nice, I thought to myself, now slow down you maniac and try not to kills us!
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- The buses of Viña Del Mar
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- Our on board busker
Viña Del Mar has a totally different vibe to the hustle and bustle of Santiago. The days are warmer, the nights cooler and the people are definitely more laid back (and slightly more attractive).
The hostel we’re staying at is called The Little Castle. It’s a huge old mansion on Vista Hermossa in Cerro Castillo, in the centre of town.
We arrived just after mid-day and caught a taxi from the bus terminal. The driver was a little too enthusiastic but nice enough. He dropped us off at a hostel, which turned out to be the wrong hostel (idiot). It’s ok, number 166 is up the road and a simple walk up the steep street should get us there. Although I could tell Sam wasn’t too happy that his Transformer was put to the test again so soon. However after the few mandatory wrong turns we arrived safe and sound.
Patricio’s wife and son greeted us at the door. The Little Castle is very different to Atacama. It literally is a house, a big house. And our room is huge compared to the closet we were in in Santiago. Hmmm, I guess Vino and Jfish was half right, I was in a closet, but not that kind of closet.
Patricio spoke great English and was very welcoming. I like the vibe here in Little Castle and I like the vibe here in Viña Del Mar.
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- The Little Castle Hostel
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- The view from our hostel
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- Our daily climb
WOW, the pickpockets here are good! I’ve been warned about thieves in South America and I’ve taken all the necessary precautions but the guy that got my wallet is a magician.
Earlier in the day, the 3 of us checked-out of the Atacama, packed our belongings and were on our way to our next stop, Vina Del Mar. The girl at the reception told us the quickest way to “the Garden City” is to catch the metro to Pajaritos then hop on a bus. Vina Del Mar like the rest of Chile is not dangerous, but “be careful” warned the girl at Atacama.
And with her words of caution still fresh in our minds we were off. We quickly made our way to the metro and each bought our ticket to Pajaritos. The metro was packed with Sunday commuters so Dennis and I squeezed into a corner, put our bags on the floor and waited.
Having spoken to Rx the night before I felt slightly home-sick but optimistic with the adventure ahead. We even had time to make fun of Sam and his decision to bring a trolley backpack (The Transformer as he prefers to call it).
We got off at Paiaritos and made our way to the bus ticket counter. The bus to Vina Del Mar was leaving in less than a minute so we had to hurry. Dennis and Sam each got their ticket and I was looking for my wallet to pay for mine. But my wallet was gone.
“WOW, the pickpockets here are good”, I thought to myself. My wallet was in the bottom pocket of my cargo shorts. I was also carrying my phone and ipod (in different pockets) but whoever it was knew exactly what he was looking for and exactly where to get it. I couldn’t believe it. To get to it he’d had to undo a button and everything. How could he have popped that button without me noticing?
I lost 30,000 Pesos, my NAB VISA and my AMEX. It’s not a lot of money but it’s going to be such a pain to cancel and re-issue my cards. This sucks! I miss the security of Sydney, I miss Rx, I want to go home.
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- Dennis and I making our way to the metro station
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- Sam and “The Transformer”
I’ve always been very particular about my hair. Its length, its elevation and the amount of product holding it all in place.
The last time I shave it all off was when I was about 7 and it was because I had the bright idea to give myself a haircut with nothing more than a pair of arts & craft scissors and the sense of style of a… 7 year old. Needless to say my self-do was shithouse. In fact the damage was so great my Dad had to shave me bold.
That experience taught me two things: Don’t trust a 7 year old with a pair of scissors (even if that 7 year old is yourself), and I look like a freak, bold.
I was looking to get a haircut the week I was leaving Sydney. In the end I decided against it because I didn’t have a lot of time and I figured it would be cheaper in South America. Having long surpassed its optimal length my hair was irritating me more and more and I made it my mission to find a good barber as soon as we settle in Santiago.
Fortunately there are quite a few hair salons near our hostel and I entered the most stylish one (only the best for BillyG) and enquired about prices. Dennis was looking to get a trim as well so he did the talking in his usual Spaniguese (which is basically Portuguese with the word el thrown in at random). Result – a buzz cut would cost 2000 pesos and a styled cut the staggering sum of 6000 CLP, OUTRAGEOUS!
I’m a unemployed traveller and I need to save where I can but am I seriously willing to risk looking like a bold freak to save $10 AUD?
Yes.
Having a buzz cut has its advantages. I longer need to slave in front of the mirror each morning to zhoosh (what will I do with all that spare time?) and I can throw away my tub of American Crew (50 ounces makes a lot of difference when you need to lug it across 4 continents).
The end result ain’t that bad. Welcome to the new aerodynamic me!
I don´t know much about Santiago but years ago I do remember watching an episode of Foreign Correspondent featuring the city. George Negus was the reporter on assignment and he described the city as deeply religious but has a quirk that is seemingly at complete odds with its Catholic roots.
“The men of Santiago are often tense with the stresses of modern life”, George reported, “and to unwind they like to go to cafes”. To cater for this demand there are many cafes dotted around the city. This all seem pretty normal except for one thing: these cafes are dimly lit and the hostesses wear fluro bikinis gyrating to the base of techno beats. These cafes are in fact strip clubs.
It´s not uncommon for men to go to these cafes during their lunch break, have an espresso and a lap dance then get on back to work. These horny bastards, I thought to myself. That episode has always stayed with me and I often wondered whether one day I too will visit Santiago.
We caught the metro into the city, a ticket costing us 400 pesos ($1). We had no idea where we were going except we should do something touristy (to make our journey even more interesting Dennis forgot the map, onya Dennis!). We wondered aimlessly throughout the financial district and by chance stumbled across the presidential palace, but bugger, it was closed for renovations.
We walked some more… feeling the first sign of hunger we decided to look for a place to eat, somewhere local we thought cos so far we´ve only eaten burgers and pizzas, hardly traditional Chilean cuisine.
It was Sam who spotted it first. The Cali caffe, but this is no ordinary cafe. It´s windows were blacked out and there was a picture of a bikini girl on the front door. I immediately told the guys my Foreign Correspondent story and after some hesitation we decided to go in.
The place was pitch black, smoky and loud, really loud. The room was tiny, too small for a strip club. I wanted to leave but it was too late, we were committed. The girls didn´t speak English and we didn´t speak Spanish. They were looking at us but our eyes have not adjusted to the lack of light yet so we couldn’t see anything at all. Dennis did the talking and asked whether this was it. “Si”, the girl in fluro yellow replied. “Well er, can we get an espresso?” Dennis asked awkwardly, “si”. Yellow brought us 3 glasses of soda water (on the house) followed by 3 espressos. The place was so small and they were less than a meter away from us. Strippers usually dance (so I´m told), but they just stood there looking at us. I didn´t want to look back cos… well, they were hideous (most Chilean women are not blessed with beauty, but that´s another story for another time).
We weren´t the only people there. There were 2 other locals also enjoying the company of these women. One was giving us disapproving stares the other had his face buried in boobs happily ignoring our sudden intrusion.
This was just too weird… we paid our 1000 pesos for the coffee (it was the best coffee we’ve had so far), thanked the girls for their hospitality and made a bee line for the door. So there you go, a rather awkward strip club experience all thanks to Foreign Correspondent. George Negus, I salute you!
So this is what jetlag is all about?!?! I don’t know if it’s cos I’m exhausted from travelling or I’m just overwhelmed with the heat but I slept over 13 hours last night. I went to bed at 11pm and got up at 2.30pm the next day. I feel messed up! The heat is unbearable. It doesn’t help that I drew the short straw and got the top bunk – the top bunk is cool when you’re 10 but not now and not here. Heat friggin rises!
There isn’t a whole lot to do in Santiago (maybe there is if you speak Spanish but we don’t, and as we quickly found out Portuguese isn’t anything like Spanish) so we decided to check out the closest hill (Cerro San Cristobal) take the cable train up and see what the city is like from up top. The walk to the bottom of the hill took us around 20 mins and the cable train costed 1600 pesos (around $4) but the view from up there was definitely worth it.
Santiago is built on a flat plain surrounded by spectacular mountains. It’s hard to appreciate the city’s beauty from within but the height of San Cristobal puts it all into perspective. The buildings stretch for as far as the eye can see then the earth rises to snow capped peaks, it’s kinda like mount Kosciusko except way more kick arse.
Later in the evening there was a BBQ at the hostel. All you can eat and drink for 5000 pesos. I didn’t eat much (weren’t hungry) but I tried my best to drink 5000 pesos worth of booze. We met some cool people including an ex rugby player from Brisbane name Leon. He signed up to play rugby in Argentina but then got a injury but instead of going home he decided to stick around to look for work elsewhere.
Apparently a lot of European ads get made here in Chile cos it’s cheap so there’s heaps of work for models/ actors if you look vaguely European. Leon’s a good looking guy and is the proud star of a locally produced VW commercial. He’s not famous (yet) but it’s good money and he’ll stay as long as the work keeps coming in.
Leon recommended that we get out of Santiago asap and go and check out the surrounding areas. We all decided it’s a good idea and quietly reminded ourselves to get the details off him, when we sober up tomorrow.
