Around the World in 80 Days: First Confused, then Chilled, but finalled Charmed by Chile

I dare propose the following hypothesis: Most (if not all girls) have some idea how they might one day name their children. At least for me, the hypothesis is true. Some of my "names" are derived from characters of my favourite writer, Chilean born Isabel Allende, and this has provided me with a particular interest in going to Chile.

My first impressions of Chile were much in line with the story of one of Isabel Allende's books. Sadly not with the spiritual and mystical elements of her novels, but with the seemingly random and incomprehensible acts of "brutality" that characterises her most famous book, "The House of the Spirits". Set in post-colonial Chile in times of political upheavals and a military putsch, the book (also) tells of state control, curfews, interrogations, imprisonment and torture. Fortunately these times are over and such brutal conditions are no longer found in Chile. But an outsider could still get a sense of how things must have been; some elements seemed to have survived...

Desert between Peru and Chile

On the first bus journey into Chile, I found myself filling in dozens of "entry" forms with name and ID number, handing over my passport for random checks and being searched by the police. Explanations were not given by the officials and other passengers also made no attempt to explain what was going on.

This was new to me.

In the other South American countries, people had been very welcoming, friendly and always made every effort to help me understand what was going on and why. But as I was shoveled out of the bus into the cold night at 3am, handed my suitcase and shouted at in Spanish, I did not encounter a single friendly eye or someone willing to explain what was happening. After a pro-forma police check, during which everyone opened their bags and the policemen stuck their hands incredibly superficially into them, we got back on the bus. As far as first impressions go, dear Chile, that wasn't so great.

The next thing I noticed about Chile was that, despite being much wealthier than some other South American countries, people were less generous: hotels did not include breakfast, charged extra for towels and did not have sockets in the bedrooms; bus conductors rudely demanded money for taking bags out of the trunk and street vendors charged exorbitant commissions for selling stamps.

To this cold capitalism (which might also be the reason why Chile is doing better than its neighbours) came the physical cold. I soon learnt that the Atacama desert is the coldest and driest desert in the world and at night temperatures drop well below zero. As I was tucked up in bed, I could see my breathe in the cold air and despite two hot water bottles, woke up shivering with a body temperature of 34°C in the morning.

Salt Lake in front of Snow-Capped Mountains

The reward for persevering in this freezing cold were sights of a breathtakingly beautiful desert with big salt lakes and pans, and geysers that blew out hot water into the cold morning air (to survive this spectacle at -15°C, I found myself hugging a box of milk that had been heated up in one of the small geysers...)

Geyser in the Atacama Desert

Despite stunning scenery, after the first four days in Chile, I was disappointed: This was not the country I had read so much about; not the warm, friendly and slightly quirky people who communicate with spirits and ghosts.

But leaving the North and the cold of the desert behind, I finally found the Chile of Isabel Allende's books and my imagination.

Supposedly less in every aspect than the other South American capitals (less cultural, less vibrant, less exciting, less picturesque...), Santiago was the first South American city I could see myself live in.

Santiago de Chile

Even in the middle of winter, the climate was mild, the sun was shining and love was in the air (I have not seen so much PDA in any other South American country). The city had a working public transport system, lush parks and gardens and big open spaces where people gathered to watch artists and clowns or simply life go by. The buildings were colorful, the pavements flanked by cafes and people selling second hand books and the music of buskers was in the air. 

Night market in Santiago

Despite (or because of) the surrounding mountains, people from Santiago seemed to love exercising and the city was full of cyclists and runners; in many public spaces, the city had installed fitness equipment with work out plans; and at traffic lights, sporty, funny and semi-talented people tried to earn some pocket money juggling, riding unicycles and even performing acrobatic stunts.

Santiago felt differnt to all the other cities I had visited - it felt less pressured and more relaxed; more arty and less commerical; less demanding and more giving...  


So finally, after much initial disappointment and consideration whether the country of my favourite books was maybe just a nice illusion, Santiago showed me the Chile of Isabel Allende's books - a city full of spirits.