My most memorable moment in Chile came on arrival. We walked into a deserted arrival lounge. At immigration a prim and proper official was staring at her phone with Spanish commentary blaring. She didn't even look at my passport just stamped it and told me to move on. On this particular day everyone in Chile was preoccupied. With soccer of course. Chile were playing Brazil. It may as well have been a public holiday.
We arrived in Santiago halfway through the game. The airport hallways were vacant. There were two cafes at either end of the airport. Both were overflowing with travelers trying to catch as much of the game as possible. We managed to force ourselves onto a cafe table and could see half a TV screen. The five-year-old in front of us broke out into the viva Chile chant. He boisterously lead the rest of the cafe. We ordered some food to warrant our seat. It was atrocious, the prices inflated, my hamburger soggy, clearly frozen and reheated in a microwave for a couple of minutes. But the atmosphere was electric. Even the security guards had gathered around the cafe to catch a glimpse of the screen.
We expected riots after the game was lost in a dramatic penalty shootout. But in downtown Santiago the masses stumbled around in a melancholic drunken stupor. Disappointment and discontent everywhere I looked.
Chileans do soccer well but they do food and wine even better. The airport hamburger was a terrible introduction to a pretty incredible culinary scene. The restaurants of Santiago were top-notch, offering everything from Sushi to Pork Ribs. My favourite area for eating out was Barrio Bellavista, nestled between two of the city's chief landmarks: the Mapocho River and San Cristóbal Hill. It's a Bohemian hub of delicious food, beer and wine, arts and crafts. From high-end restaurants to one-room dive bars.
Santiago is built on flat-lands and is surrounded by hills and mountains on all sides. The location and dry climate mean low lying fog often chokes the city. However, when the fog clears on a winter morning the city has one of the most stunning panoramas you will ever see. The air dry and arid and the sun reflecting bright off the glaciers of the Andes above. If you're lucky enough to be in Santiago on a clear day head to San Cristobal and ride the Funicular to the top of the hill where you can best view the Andes and the city so close together in all their glory.
Santiago is in close proximity to a variety of different landscapes, culinary adventures and extreme sport opportunities. 50 minutes drive out of downtown and you are deep in the Andes surrounded by the snow-covered slopes and world renowned ski resorts of El Colorado and Valle Nevado. It's convenient to stay in Santiago and journey to the resorts on day trips. However, we decided to stay up in the mountains at the Chilextremo hostel in the tiny snow town of Farellones. A great experience with great hosts.
Chilextremo is at the end of the road in Farellones. From the hostel deck there is nothing but mountains. Snow-covered and vast and bare. After a hard day of snowboarding there was nothing better than to sit down with our hosts and re-live the days events around a fire with a cold beer and the sun setting, turning the white slopes to orange and yellow. The snow suddenly burning and shimmering with the ferocity of a bushfire.
The snowfields of El Colorado were icy the first two days. It hadn't snowed for over two weeks. I hadn't snowboarded for over two years. It was a bruising couple of days. On the last night, defying the weather forecasts, we woke to a white-out. Stiff and sore I stumbled up to Angelo's ski shop and rented a board for the day.
Angelo laughed and held his hands together as if in prayer and looked to the sky. 'Aussie man! Perfect day. I pray and am answered. Powder...'
Up on the mountain we were smothered in snow storms. The powder was thick and up to my knees. The visibility minimal. By afternoon the snow storms cleared. Powder blue sky day. Every skier's dream.
At dusk, our bodies aching, we drank beers at El Montanes, the bar with the best view in the world, overlooking the slopes of Farellones. The earth white and the sky blue. Chile blue. Viva Chile. In that bar, at that moment, on top of the world, my heart warm and my mind replaying the events of the day, I remembered something I read once, the words of Chile's most famous wordsmith and a former Barrio Bellavista resident, Pablo Neruda.
something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and wrote the first faint line,
faint without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom,
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open.
 |
| Flying into Chile over the Andes |
We arrived in Santiago halfway through the game. The airport hallways were vacant. There were two cafes at either end of the airport. Both were overflowing with travelers trying to catch as much of the game as possible. We managed to force ourselves onto a cafe table and could see half a TV screen. The five-year-old in front of us broke out into the viva Chile chant. He boisterously lead the rest of the cafe. We ordered some food to warrant our seat. It was atrocious, the prices inflated, my hamburger soggy, clearly frozen and reheated in a microwave for a couple of minutes. But the atmosphere was electric. Even the security guards had gathered around the cafe to catch a glimpse of the screen.
We expected riots after the game was lost in a dramatic penalty shootout. But in downtown Santiago the masses stumbled around in a melancholic drunken stupor. Disappointment and discontent everywhere I looked.
Chileans do soccer well but they do food and wine even better. The airport hamburger was a terrible introduction to a pretty incredible culinary scene. The restaurants of Santiago were top-notch, offering everything from Sushi to Pork Ribs. My favourite area for eating out was Barrio Bellavista, nestled between two of the city's chief landmarks: the Mapocho River and San Cristóbal Hill. It's a Bohemian hub of delicious food, beer and wine, arts and crafts. From high-end restaurants to one-room dive bars.
Santiago is built on flat-lands and is surrounded by hills and mountains on all sides. The location and dry climate mean low lying fog often chokes the city. However, when the fog clears on a winter morning the city has one of the most stunning panoramas you will ever see. The air dry and arid and the sun reflecting bright off the glaciers of the Andes above. If you're lucky enough to be in Santiago on a clear day head to San Cristobal and ride the Funicular to the top of the hill where you can best view the Andes and the city so close together in all their glory.
 |
| Santiago and the Andes from San Cristobal |
Santiago is in close proximity to a variety of different landscapes, culinary adventures and extreme sport opportunities. 50 minutes drive out of downtown and you are deep in the Andes surrounded by the snow-covered slopes and world renowned ski resorts of El Colorado and Valle Nevado. It's convenient to stay in Santiago and journey to the resorts on day trips. However, we decided to stay up in the mountains at the Chilextremo hostel in the tiny snow town of Farellones. A great experience with great hosts.
 |
| Jo, our host, working in the best office in the world |
Chilextremo is at the end of the road in Farellones. From the hostel deck there is nothing but mountains. Snow-covered and vast and bare. After a hard day of snowboarding there was nothing better than to sit down with our hosts and re-live the days events around a fire with a cold beer and the sun setting, turning the white slopes to orange and yellow. The snow suddenly burning and shimmering with the ferocity of a bushfire.
 |
| Sunset from the Chilextremo hostel |
The snowfields of El Colorado were icy the first two days. It hadn't snowed for over two weeks. I hadn't snowboarded for over two years. It was a bruising couple of days. On the last night, defying the weather forecasts, we woke to a white-out. Stiff and sore I stumbled up to Angelo's ski shop and rented a board for the day.
Angelo laughed and held his hands together as if in prayer and looked to the sky. 'Aussie man! Perfect day. I pray and am answered. Powder...'
 |
| The runs of El Colorado |
Up on the mountain we were smothered in snow storms. The powder was thick and up to my knees. The visibility minimal. By afternoon the snow storms cleared. Powder blue sky day. Every skier's dream.
 |
| Carving up the powder on the afternoon of the last day |
At dusk, our bodies aching, we drank beers at El Montanes, the bar with the best view in the world, overlooking the slopes of Farellones. The earth white and the sky blue. Chile blue. Viva Chile. In that bar, at that moment, on top of the world, my heart warm and my mind replaying the events of the day, I remembered something I read once, the words of Chile's most famous wordsmith and a former Barrio Bellavista resident, Pablo Neruda.
something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and wrote the first faint line,
faint without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom,
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open.
Comments
Post a Comment