Chao, for now, Chile – Puerto Varas to Denver

Having checked off most everything on our list, it was time to make our way back to the United States. Maggie and I made the most of our last day in Santiago by romping around town and seeing things we missed on our first visit.

10 February 2023

The joy ride in our rental car was coming to an end. We woke up before 7 am to give ourselves plenty of time to pack up and get to the Puerto Montt Airport on time to return the car. We pulled up to the rental return and the agent greeted us for the return inspection. Maggie and I had driven 5,700 km (3,500 mi) over long stretches of dirt and gravel roads with wash boards that would make any 19th century laundromat envious. There were horrifying clusters of baches (potholes) in Argentina. There was a hill nearly too steep for the car by Cerro Castillo, on which we burned a non-trivial amount of rubber spinning out on the rocks. I thought for certain we would have gotten a flat at some point, or something would eat into my deposit. The heavy rains the day before washed away a month’s worth of dust collected on the dirt roads, leaving the exterior spotless. Amazingly, the car was unscathed, at least for what was outwardly visible. The rental agent returned the inspection form: “OK”. What a relief! We strolled into the terminal, grinning as if we had gotten away with something nefarious. If only they knew what we had put that car through…

Our flight to Santiago was not for another three hours, so we sat and relaxed, bathing in the endlessly entertaining waves of free airport wifi. I have to say, I don’t mind going without the internet, using my phone for nothing more than taking pictures and navigation when we’re out in the woods. I don’t feel the urge to get on social media when it’s not available. But, when internet access is restored, it’s like I have to make up for lost time online, like satisfying the impulses of a drug addict. Maggie and I began scrolling and hardly said a word to each other for an hour and a half. It’s the weirdest thing, and I can’t say I like it, but what else is there to do…? What did people do to fill the time before 2007? Because I can’t remember.

Anyways, we scarfed down a quick lunch minutes before take off, then climbed up through the clouds. The local volcanoes were peaking out above the small cumulus cotton balls. It was, in a way, a bit sad to turn our backs on Patagonia, but we had an amazing adventure down south and it was time to head home.

The clouds below cleared up a little further north. The Andes and the patchwork of valley farms were awash with gorgeous summer sunshine, at least for the middle third of our flight. The northern third started to look a little hazy. My parents had warned me of wildfires in central Chile they had seen in the news. It didn’t take long to spot an active plume of smoke roiling up from the hills. The haze continued all the way to Santiago, enough that we both looked at each other uncomfortably, thinking, “I have to breath THAT?” We took consolation in knowing it would only be for one day.

Being familiar with Santiago, we headed straight for the $2 bus into the city. It almost felt like returning home, if a bit away home. We walked the bustling Avenida Bernardo O’higgins again, making our was to our hostel near Parque Forestal.

It was hot in Santiago, and we had worked up a sweat on the 20 minute walk. We took some time to cool off, relax, and plan our final evening out on the town. Having had the best luck with Asian food, we went to a swanky Vietnamese restaurant in Barrio Lastarria, a hip strip of restaurants and bars close to our hostel.

Full of curry and stir fry, we walked off the meal with a lap around forest park. It was a lovely evening stroll. A local woman walked by, recognizing us as white tourists, and said something along the lines, “You shouldn’t be out here this late!” Maggie and I dismissed her, perhaps over confident, but we were yet to felt unsafe in Santiago.

Maggie and I returned to Barrio Lastarria to check out a pisco bar. As tequila is to Mexico, pisco is arguably the national liquor of Chile. Pisco is a style of brandy – wine distilled up to 40-45% abv – which might receive further aging in oak barrels. We had tried a couple pisco sours on our trip, which were great, but we hadn’t really tasted straight pisco yet. Enter the pisco flight.

We tried six different piscos, three floral and three from a region in Southern Chile. I believe, much like wine, the flavor of pisco is affected by growing conditions, and so each region of Chile proudly distills their own style. Our bartender was attentive, and she shared her thoughts on each one as we worked our way through the flight. There were two that stood out – one a touch sweeter, raisin-y and floral, the other one more crisp with interesting notes of oak and leather.

As we watched the bartender prepare drinks for other pisco enthusiasts, we couldn’t help but order another pair of mixed drinks, one swimming in sweet, tropical fruit, and a bitter pisco tonic with a slice of grapefruit peel. It was a nice little celebration of our journey in a fun and lively atmosphere. We stumbled the short walk back to the room and stayed up too late…

11-12 February 2023

Maggie and I rolled out of bed around 9 am. There wasn’t much on the docket for our last day in Chile. We went out for breakfast a couple blocks from our hostel. Back at the room, showers and packing up were in order ahead the long flight home. Leaving austral summer for boreal winter, we made sure to put extra warm clothes in our carry on. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 10:45 pm, so we left our packs locked up at the hostel and walked straight to the Pre-Columbian Art Museum. Maggie’s degree in anthropology, as well as a recommendation from my Aunt Chris (former curator at the Smithsonian Museum of the American Indian), necessitated that we visit.

Inside the museum, we started by descending three flights of concrete stairs to the high ceiling basement. Dim lighting, other than a skylight on one end, and walls painted black really set the mood. It felt essential to speak no louder than a whisper. The sub floor was dedicated to tribes and civilizations that inhabited modern day Chile. The artifacts sat on display in pristine glass cases, except for a collection of wooden statues carved into human forms. Maggie and I took our time, reading all the descriptions and looking intently at all the museum had on display.

We were quick to recognize patterns, or perhaps similar themes, that we knew from pottery in the North American south west – zig-zag and staircase designs, crosses for the four cardinal directions, stark black and white glazes highlighted with a splash of red, and so on. That was not a recurring theme, however, and it was interesting to see so many different styles, as well as mediums of art.

One of my favorites is the Inka knot ledgers, or quipu. The Inka never developed a written language, although they did maintain records on knotted strings. The precise meaning is somewhat unknown, but it is apparent that they do record numbers, and some believe there are quipus that contain literary writings.

We eventually made our way back upstairs to the remaining exhibit areas, which included more artifacts from South and Central America. Of these, I found Mayan stone work and pottery design to be the most striking. Another favorite of mine is a Mayan ceramic toy with four wheels, yet the Mayan civilization never utilized the wheel and axle for larger tools or industry. Curious…

Things really got interesting when we went into the textile room. Just wow… Taking pictures was prohibited in the textile room, which I nearly forgot 5 minutes after the attendant told me so. The weaving was just unbelievable! Extremely fine threads, intricate patterns, feathers, felt hats, and fishing nets were all captivating. This alone was worth the price of admission. If you want to see it yourself, you’ll have to go to Santiago!

After a couple hours, we had gotten our fill. We had lunch in the museum cafe, then we walked. We were hoping to get a little bit of exercise before sitting on a plane all night, so we wandered to a park two miles from downtown. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and a few streets along to way were completely devoid of human activity. We wondered if we were walking through a bad neighborhood, but it seems that Chileans actually take time to rest on the weekends. Most businesses are closed up, their steel garage doors locked to deter vandalism. All was fine for us, and we walked to Parque Quinta Normal. There were people milling around, laying in the grass. We didn’t really have anything in mind to see here, maybe a garden and some trees, but we weren’t really feeling it. We walked back the way we came and got ice cream cones. It was a hot day and the cold treats helped us chill out for a bit.

We eventually walked back to our hostel to retrieve our bags. One last Santiago walk along Avenida Bernardo O’higgins to the airport bus station. The frenzy of activity on this road will never cease to amaze me.

From there, everything went off without a hitch. We got to the airport with plenty of time to emigrate and get through security. Our flight was on time.

Naturally, we didn’t sleep much on the red eye. Such is life on long haul flights. Our connection in Houston worked out and we were back in Denver by 10 am. After six weeks in a foreign country, it was almost strange to be somewhere so familiar. My parents picked us up and we all went out for breakfast…

Maggie and I had a wonderful time in Chile and Argentina! We saw so much, but often times, it only felt like an appetizer. There are several places we would love to visit again and spend more time exploring. I think we have also been inspired to do more international travel. On the flip side, the added expense, time, and language barriers that come with international travel has made us feel very fortunate to have so much to see in the U.S. As for the next adventure, I have a feeling we’ll be going no where in particular…