Santiago - A Hidden Face

I had hesitated to criticise Santiago on my first visit (of a day) bearing in mind the Oslo Error (basing one's opinion of a new city on one's first impressions when one is tired and disoriented). Also I think Lonely Planet says of Santiago that where you stay is important as it will very easily colour your perception of the city, and my first stay had been just off Bernardo O'Higgins and was fairly rough and tumble. My caution was now validated. Despite many a pushy taxi driver, I managed to get a shuttle to my hotel in the wealthy area of Providencia. Even as we drove to the city (a different route to the bus of before), I could see things hidden last time, big parks, gleaming buildings, statues, etc.. Of course, this is only one side of Santiago, the rich side, more than balanced by a huge area of poverty, but sad to say, it was a comforting sight. The hotel too provided a very cosy welcome. The reception was all quiet woodwork and suited staff. When I was brought to my room, it turned out to be huge, air-conditioned and cosy. I ordered a sandwich (again I hadn't eaten much that day) and went to bed watching 'Twelve Monkeys'.

The next morning, Sunday, there was 'Sabrina' for breakfast, a Harrison Ford movie playing on the dining room tv, which might have caused an upset. I ignored it and concentrated on the food which was basic, but edible.

My impressions from the night before were more than validated when I left the hotel. Providencia was a bustling place of shops and workers, with sushi bars and parks. Anything I had heard about the Santiago underground had been complimentary, and sure enough it is as good a system as I have come across. Granted there are only three lines, each of which links to another, but it is spacious, efficient and very impressive. While I looked at a map, I heard the couple beside me talking in English. They seemed to be having a problem, so I asked if I could help. It turned out they were from Liverpool, though the woman was originally from Ireland. In their 60's, they nevertheless seemed to be boyfriend girlfriend, each with another family behind them. They had already travelled a little in South America, and he had lost his camera and credit cards on a train in Argentina. I fear the woman may have had Alzheimer's as she was very unsteady on her feet and had something of a penguin fixation. In fact, it was this penguin fixation that was bringing them to the very trip I had just left; they were joining the Explorer the next week for a trip to the South Pole (he kept the whole conceit going by constantly referring to her as his "little penguin"). I think he worked in the railway and she had been a teacher, and as you can probably guess they were very talkative. I am ashamed to say that though he suggested we meet for a drink later, I let the invitation pass by. They were on their way to do some trainspotting in the main train station. I know they will have a great time, but I worry about how she will be able to get in and out of those zodiacs; she was very unsteady.

Wandering through the city it struck me how unlucky I had been on the Sunday I had last been here. Everywhere I had walked then I had just stopped short of the streets were the real life was. Also I had arrived relatively late then and many streets seemed deserted, while now it was like Grafton Street on a summer's day, though a little more lively. Street performers, stalls, families eating ice cream, it was a heartening sight.

Finally getting my bearings, I took a trip to Cerro Santa Lucia, a high rock of a sculptured park in the middle of the city. It was once a convent and then a barracks, I believe, but with its fountains and towers and gorgeous view of the city, it's made for Sunday afternoons. I lazed around, had an ice pop, snapped pictures and eavesdropped on some English tourists, one of whom had a degenerative genetic eye condition, or something.

On my way back to the hotel, I bumped into the Liverpudlians again; they missed their stop and were backtracking. We made our farewells.

The Lonely Planet had recommended a restaurant on Avenue Providencia, so I headed off in search of it. Unfortunately the place didn't exist, or at least the address given was wrong. Instead I came across some sort of festival at a cathedral. Several yellow buses were parked outside and all along the pavement drummers were pounding away while children in wild costumes danced. I think I arrived near the end as some were getting back on to the buses, and some parents were leading their sparkling kids away from the whole event.

Wandering back, I settled for the Chef's selection in a nearby sushi restaurant. Large though the meal was, it was comprised entirely of salmon; so much for the chef's selection. He mustn't have been choosy that night. I was tired though and grateful to toddle across the road to my hotel and an early night