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On the 31st January 2007 I arrived at Sanitago International Airport 3 hours before I'd even taken of from Auckland. I was a little sad to have left all my relatives and friends behind in New Zealand and was terrified at the prospect of travelling across South America alone. Luckily, I'd taken some precautions before I'd left the cosy comforts of NZ and had arranged a private Taxi to pick me up from the airport and had book a private room at my hostel in Santiago. Whilst in hindsight this was probably being a little over paranoid (after all I'd survived a 22 bed in South Africa), I was extremly jetlagged and suffering a tad from culture shock.
Despite my best efforts, I slept for most of the first two days in South America. Everyday I'd wake up with the intention of getting out and seeing the 'sights' of Chiles capital, but always ended up being hit by a wave of tierdness shortly after breakfast. The language was also confusing. My C grade in GCSE Spanish quickly proved to be useless as the Chilians spoke at such a rapid pace that they could hardly understand themselves let alone a stuttering gringo reading out of a battered 'Teach Yourself Spanish' phrasebook.
Although my hostel took up an entire block, there were only around 20 people staying there (I have yet to meet a backpacker who has positive memories of Santiago) and the majority of them spent their time drinking overpriced beer and playing pool in the common room area. Whilst this may seem like a rather sweeping statement, on hindsight, I have yet to remember a time when any of them ever left the safety of the Andes Hostel and ventured out onto the crowded bustling streets outside.
On my last day I headed out on a short expedition round Santiagos city centre. The Cathedral was spectacular, like any in Europe, and mixed in with an array of 60s and 70s archeticture were some stunning 16th and 17th century buildings which had survived the test of time. I visted a museum about the history of the indigionous people of South America, including the Incas, but was extremly disappointed not to find any of the mummies or drilled skulls which I so fondly remembered from my trip to Peru in 2000.
Santiago reminded me a bit of Athens. Clusters of history smothered by a dense overcrowded and polluted city with not enough culture to make it significantly worth visiting for the travelling backpacker. Determined to leave this city as soon as possible, I headed over the bus station on my second day and booked a ticket to Mendoza - the city in the mountains and in the heart of Argentinas wine country!
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