Weekend in

I've had enough of hiking for a while and wanted to spend a quiet day exploring the city. Getting 6+ of us together would make 'quiet' physically impossible, so we decided to play it low key. Brian and Peter and I spend our Saturday exploring the local fort and artisan fair. I was an idiot and forgot my camera, so in true cause-and-effect fashion this post won't have any pictures.

When Pedro de Valdiva first founded Santiago in 1541 he started with Santa Lucia. The hill made an excellent lookout point and was easier to climb than San Cristobal. In 1820 they stuck a fort on it as a means of defense, as opposed to sticking a fort on it as a means to attract tourists. Over the past 190 years its purpose as shifted much more towards the latter. For example, they shoved a giant fountain in the entrance and put a statue of Poisedon Posidon Neptune on top of it. It definitely gives the Drexel fountain a run for its money. We tossed ten peso coins into the pool and entered the fort itself.

The place is gutted as a tourist attraction. Everything that made it a defensive position has been taken out and replaced with walkways, ramps and camera sights. From various levels point fake cannons, some of which aren't even made of metal. The most intricate one points straight at the national library. Some people used it as an impromptu trashcan.

I'd have to say the climb was a lot more pleasant than our last two. For one, steps! More importantly it was a lot better tiered; every couple of minutes we could stop and see a completely new and exciting view. The sites were far more intimate than San Cristobal ever was, and even at the peak we could see people laughing and playing in the streets below. Throughout the fort we kept finding small plaques and statues. To my delight I could translate most of them, using the gist and rough estimates to work out the words I didn't know. My Spanish is improving!

After Santa Lucia we checked out a local artisan fair. I bought a few souvenirs for people (you know who you are). A lot of them revolve around a semiprecious stone called lapis lazuli, a bright blue semiprecious stone. Chile has some of the biggest lapis lazuli quarries in the world. Many Chileans are proud of the stone, noting that its only found in Chile and Afghanistan. A surefire way to make them hate you is to point out it's also found in Burma, California, Colorado, Canada, India, and Russia. I now own a few pieces, but still have many more souvenirs to go. It was a pretty fun place and I've gotta go back before September.

We're going to the Atacama next week. So excited! We're gonna be out for three days, so I'll probably upload everything Tuesday or Wednesday. I'm already at 38% storage maximum on Google. Let's see if I can bump it past 50.

I have GOT to stop bragging

Remember when I said we climbed a mountain? I lied. Sunday we climbed a mountain. I could tell because it took a lot longer and was more painful. But to some extent the rewards were better.

I woke up at 5:50 that morning, giving me enough time to eat breakfast and finish cooking my lunch. By 7 we were out the door, and by 8 on our road to the Serro La Compana. I slept a little during the long ride. Somebody poked me awake and told me to look out the window.

A taste of things to come.

By ten we're on the slopes. Alex coordinated this time and picked the hardest route for us to do. It was only about five miles in length but had an average degree of 22%. We'd be over a mile when we were done. If we got done. A couple of people made jokes about getting stranded and sleeping on the slopes. Then again nobody really brought heavy sweaters or very much food, so if it came down to that we would probably die.

First bit was pretty exhausting. We kept up a hard pace and went up the slope a little faster than we would normally walk. This pace quickly tired us out. By the time we found our first stream we were glad to take a break.

About here I'd love to include another paragraph about my thoughts on climbing and stuff, but I'm sure you're all sick of it by now. Also I really can't think of anything more to say besides "We walked a lot. It was tiring."

Eventually we hit the cloud line, turning the world into blank slate. We can't see more than 20 feet in front of us. The three of us in UChicago East quickly got ahead from the rest. Eventually it was impossible to see the other guys. We briefly considered throwing rocks downhill in hopes of hitting one of them before moving on.

Seen here is the majestic mountain cow. I think somebody has a farm up there. By now the mist is thinning a little and we can see the sun again.

And then we reached the land above the clouds.

It's one thing to see it out of a tiny window of a giant aluminum tube you are powerless to influence. It's quite another to get their on your own power. The clouds aren't a set of islands. They're an ocean.

Note the double mountain in the background. I ended up using it as a crude altometer to judge how high we went.

We'd also passed the snow line. I'm regretting not throwing a celebratory snowball. Travel became a lot slower and more dangerous. At some point Brian and Alex got separated from the rest of the group. Neither of them hard their phones, which made coordination from here on out somewhat more difficult.

Next rest was just the remaining five. I found a long stone outcropping and took pictures from it. The mountains are much lower now and the mist much higher. It's peaceful here, from the vantage point high above the clouds. From here on out I was far ahead of some people and far behind another, things rapidly deteriorating. Half the time I had to walk carefully on the path or slip on the ice. The other half I had to climb alongside, the path too dangerous to cross. And there was always the ever present wind, not strong enough to throw me off balance but still chilled me to the bone. I continued, the twin peaks growing ever smaller.

I didn't reach the top. Nobody did. It was simply too dangerous around this time of year. But the pictures were excellent and I'm proud I got so far.

Way down was a lot worse. We eventually found our lost friends and left as a group. Night hit us partway down and we had to use our phone flashlights to navigate over four kilometers. I think that counts as our stupidity escalation for this week. By the time we got down the buses had stopped running and we were trapped in the area for the night. I'm gonna have to say I'm not a fan of hostels.

This post should have gone up earlier, but I came down with a bad sickness. Still got some residual, but hoping it goes away. In the meantime, something fun! I was inspired to start this blog by Andrew Alexander's letters, and I'm hoping on making it a useful resource for the next crop of interns. With that in mind, I've got a little challenge for the summer (winter?) of '12. Somewhere on the safe part of the mountain I marked down a little sign of our passage. It's relatively sheltered from the elements and has a good chance of staying there until next year. If you guys find it and send me proof of that I'll owe all you guys a free lunch. On your marks, get set, wait a year.

Concha y Toro

So Sunday we went to the Concha y Toro vineyard, one of the largest in the world, for a winery tour. I would write about all of my experiences, but I realized my experiences involve standing blank-faced while the tour guide rambled on about the vineyards. Given that anybody can experience that with the magic of Wikipedia, I figure I'll just post the pictures.

Founders house

Vineyards

Wine tasting

Wine tasters

Barrels

Bunker room

More barrels

Wow, that was easy. Should do crappy lazy posts more often.

The Climb

It seems that every week I do something a little more dangerous. Two weeks ago I sauntered into a riot. Last week I jogged down a mountain. This week I climbed a hill.

Maybe I should back up a bit. Last Friday we had a small rainstorm, clearing up the air for the next couple of days. So Brian, Peter, Tito and I decided to go to San Cristobal Hill, the highest point in the city. People told us that you can see everything from up there. Seemed a good a way as any to spend the day.

Cristobal is notable by the statue of Virgin Mary on its peak. You can juuust make it out here. It's under
the central spire. We walked in, started taking the path up. Then Tito pointed at a small but steep slope and said "hey, we should climb that."

It didn't seem like a bad idea. I mean, hey, we could see the top. Twenty feet at the highest. You guys can't because at the time I wasn't thinking it was important enough to photograph. It was going to be a two minute diversion followed by more walking. So we set out to scramble it.

Two minutes later we were at the top. That was fun. Hey wait, there isn't a path here. Oh, there's another climb. Looks a bit steeper, but I can manage. Hey, there's another one!

Repeat ad nauseam.

After about the third time this happened I realized I was in for the long haul. The slopes got harder and more painful. Nice little ledges and tractioned dirt gave way to precarious carpets of rocks, brambled trees, and slippery mud. Bad where the ones where your footing gave way from underneath. One wrong move and I'd tumble back down. It almost happened a couple of times. One time the stones tumbled away from me, leaving my body supported by a slick patch of mud and the tree branch I clung to. I hoisted myself up, slipped my feet behind the trunk, and continued on. Tito and Brian quickly ranged ahead. I stayed behind to help Peter, the only one among us who realized at the start this may have been a bad idea. We continued together for a while, then drifted apart. I was on my own.

I adamantly believe that of the four of us I had the hardest route. At least Tito and I worked that out in retrospect. At the time it was all about getting a little higher, trying to find the next handhold, calling out names to make sure nobody got hurt. It was a long way down and a longer way up. The route steadily got worse. Fields of loose rocks, one in a dozen offering a small foothold. Make sure to find a second fast before the rock, loosened by your entire weight, pops out. Gaps between me and the isolated trees. Throw my body forwards and grab it fast. Dead ends, far too far to the next target. Only thing to do is to move sideways and hope the sickly bushes there can be worked into handholds. Up and up. Dimly I realized how high I was and that falling was my most primal fear. I should be paralyzed with terror. I looked down, saw the long tumble behind me. But foot balanced on an sunken boulder, hands resting on a fallen log, I felt safe. I knew the fall wouldn't happen. I would get to the top.

Spined bushes gave way to more seas of stones and iron deadwood. Another patch of forestry, this time a little thicker. Then sight of the other three behind a stone wall. I climbed my way up to the threshhold and pulled myself on. Victory at last!

I turned around and pull out my camera.

The tallest building in Santiago is 200 meters tall. I think we climbed past that. Probably the most foolhardy climb yet (man I need to read about climbing safety), but we did it. And we still had higher to go. We ended up a little off the proper path, and there weren't any of the ubiquitous railings. The short walk to the proper path was the scariest part of the trip. Weird that a guy who just went through that would be so terrified of an unprotected walk. But the fear of falling was so bad I almost had to crawl. After five minutes we got a railing again and everything was okay. I'm scared of heights. Sue me.

We quickly got to a place way from all of the bush and bramble, where the slope was steep enough to take pictures of the city itself.

We were now near the peak of the hill and the Virgin Mary, which is much larger up close.

 

When we finally got there we found the place packed with tourists doing that "hold out the camera with one arm facing your" touristy camera picture. Totally in contrast with the stark Mary my camera caught. We got bored quickly and left.

On the way down we took another (but smaller) rocky path. Peter finally decided he had had enough of our suicidal tendencies and abandoned us. I got mud all over my pants and shoes, but it was worth it for the view. We landed on the ledge just as the sun was setting. It threw crimson bands along the mountain peaks, a lazy crown over the Chilean city. We stared solemnly at the scene for a minute and then ruined it with the clicks of cameras.

Vertigo wasn't much of a problem on the way back. Even if somebody shoved me off the ledge the mud on my sneakers would have kept me anchored. I know it sounds facetious but that's what kept me from curling into a ball. Eventually we made it back sans Peter and went shopping. What we bought is a story for another time (like never).

One of the really great things about this trip is how it's been pushing me outside of my comfort zones. It's not just because of my surroundings; many of these things (sans riot) could happen in Chicago and Michigan. I think it's also the company. We are eight college students, all roughly the same age, all near the peak of physical aptitude and adventurousness. We are physically isolated from our friends who could tell us "um..." and given a huge travel budget. We build on and amplify each other. I would not have climbed the hill until Brian and Tito went first. They showed it was possible. I merely tried to keep up. This doesn't explain everything (again riot), but I think it's part of the explanation.

And I'm pretty glad for it. The hill was a dangerous and scary experience, yes, but it was also wonderful.  I was happy while it happened and I'm happy it had happened. But it's gonna be hard to find something even more dangerous to do next week. We're planning on exploring the desert. Maybe we shouldn't take supplies? That or start water fights while there. Give it time. I'm sure we'll figure out something.

Souvenir

Another protest today. I didn't go (hey, I keep my promises) but Brian did. He got me a souvenir.

I can't thank him enough.

Walking to Work

I left my bike at home today so I could take pictures of the trip. Camera was running low on batteries (hadn't recharged it since the riot) so I couldn't do multiple takes. 

We live on the first floor of this building. It makes it a lot easier to move the bike in and out. While the gate is a little foreboding, we're actually in one of the safest parts of Santiago Centro. Barrio Brasil has a flourishing nightclub scene and is very close to the local police station. The front desk guy speaks very little English and we practice off each other.

Remember how my first pic was of a sprawling church? Turns out there are a lot of them in the city. I used to think they were a little unreal for some reason, and I've finally pinned down why. Santiago has pretty bad smog issues. I've never noticed, but both locals and interns have complained about it. One thing it does do it slightly lower the "resolution" of everything, making all of the buildings look a little vide-gamey. The churches seem more affected by this.

Ave Brasil is probably the most vibrant street running perpendicular to O'Higgins. There's a lot of restaurants and stuff that everybody eats at regularly (me less so I guess). The defining feature is the line of palm trees that separates the lanes. Seeing real-live palm trees strewn all nilly willy is really novel.

Plaza de Brasil. Like Chicago Santiago has lots of tiny little parks scattered everywhere. Haven't spent much time here, though. The other interns' place is just out of sight. I've been trying to get them to take pictures of their place with no luck. Maybe I offer cookies.

Ave O'Higgins is Santiago's main road. I think it stretches all the way into Providencia and Los Condes. The red line follows it pretty closely, and all the facing the street are horribly overpriced.

Both riots followed O'Higgins. These pictures were taken pretty close to where I got tear gassed. I'd say it's weird standing in that spot now but it's really not. You can still see some broken glass and shattered signs on O'Higgins' sidewalks.

Another residential building, this one specifically for students. We looked at one place, but they were (1) horribly expensive (500 dollars per month!) (2) didn't offer doubles or quadruples and (3) didn't offer noncommunal kitchens. So basically US dorms. Note the ever-present palm trees.

Another plaza. Not sure why I took a picture aside from the fact it looks nice. Actually, that's a pretty good reason. 

Here we are! Universidad de Chile, campus Beauchef. All of the engineers and applied scientists work here, as do four of us interns. I've grown pretty fond of it.

The 'quad'. It's pretty small and serves a lot of people, so there's always music or demonstrations or whatever going on here.

I think I could learn to enjoy watching soccer. We curbstomped Mexico two weeks ago and I was surprised at how exciting it was.

I was going to upload pictures of my office, but then my camera decided to crap out on me. Will get those up tomorrow. 

And We Are Eight

Jeff got in Wednesday. To celebrate we were going to push him into a riot, but the next one wasn't scheduled for two weeks. We instead decided to push him up a mountain. Thin air makes it hard to breath, which is kinda like being tear gassed. But all of the serious mountains were too far away and we wanted to be back by the evening. None of us had packed lunches, either. We found a sufficiently small and close mountain in one of the nearby parks. More like a hill, really. I'm calling it a mountain so I can say we climbed a mountain. I'll stop once we scale a real mountain.

The gang of eight. Back row, left to right: Arthur, Alex, Brian, Jeff. Front row: Malus, Tito, Peter. Behind the camera: me. It's two anna half miles to the national park. We start walking, and I take a picture of our target along the way.

Eventually we find a hole in the fence and get off the path. We find a river that follows along the trail. We all ooh and aah at it, with the exception of Arthur and Peter who stay back. Alex suggests we go down there, at which point we point out it's a twenty foot drop. The only way to get there would be to hit one patch of dirt and slide all the way down, something way too insane to-

Damn you, Alex.

Malus and Tito take the same route, while Brian follows a slightly safer one. Not wanting to risk death (and being kinda a coward), I leave and get pictures of cacti.

Hmm, there's something behind this one. I look behind and find another path. This one is trades a single steep fall for a lot of complicated ones. There's a ton of trees and brambles in the way that could cut my arms and face up if I'm not careful. But I can control my fall and use my hands as breaks, so I don't mind. In two minutes I'm down by the river. Success!

We hop across the river stones and climb the other cliff. Another halfmile and we swing back down across and up along the proper road. We rejoin the other three guys at the gate to the national park, and head in.

At the start it's more of the same. We pass a statue of the Virgin Mary and cross a bridge. Everybody tries to go under the bridge and hop across the rocks, but only a few make it. The rest of us just take the path for once.

Then we begin the climb. First it's steps, doing a good half hour on a heavy stairmaster. The path always isn't in good condition, and with eight of us it's not the fastest going. At a couple of points we stop for pictures.

Finally we reach the top of the path. Past there it's rocks and brush and more rocks. No stairs, only sand. We press ahead. At some point Peter stays behind, sitting on a jut in the cliff. We all get separated, until even my shouts go unanswered. Finally, pulling myself up one last rock, I reach a plateau. Here I get the bulk of my pictures. I tried to find the absolute best ones to upload here. It's still going to be a long, long image dump.

There's still more to climb. Too much brush and cover, not enough extra height. There's no photographic reason to go on, only for the sake of getting higher. So I continue. Camera tucked back in pocket, I spend another half hour pushing myself ahead. At some point, according to Brian, the air got detectably thinner. I never notice. More climbing. I hit a long patch of brambles and have to slide on my belly to get past them. At some point I meet up with Arthur again, who had to do the same. I'd love to say that we reached the peak, but eventually we heard Peter call that we should come down and the other guys, up above, shout back the same. So we all head back and meet up (down?) with Peter.

Well, going down is gonna be a lot easier than coming up. But we are manly men who don't want things 'easy'. How can we make the descent manlier?

Running.

I wish I had gotten a pic of this, but 1) it would have come out all blurry, and 2) when you're jogging down a bendy unkempt mountain trail the last thing you want to do is distract yourself with a camera. People start falling behind or switched to walking or whatever and by the time we get back to the park gates only three of us are left. Looks like all that exercise paid off after all. We walk the four kilos back to the bus station just in time to catch it leaving. And so our time atop the world is at an end. Hopefully soon it will be dwarfed when we really punch through the sky. I'm looking forward to it.

In the meantime, I'm realizing that all of these posts about riots and trips and excitement don't actually give a good representation of what life here is like. I'm going to start working on a couple of more mundane posts soon to show where I work and how I get there and stuff. Until then!