Tales from the Gringo Trail (Part 1)

Chile con carne

Ten hours after leaving the relative safety of Auckland I landed in Santiago in Chile. Another continent and the start of a new adventure.



I was not too impressed with Santiago. Some parts of the centre of Santiago resembled a concrete jungle, the main square being an exception. The drab gray buildings along the narrow streets block out the sunlight. The years of Pinochet and his repression are still evident. Compared to other capital cities I´ve been to it was a little disappointing. Where the architecture was not impressive, the street art / graffiti most certainly was, especially in the Bellavista area. Many buildings were covered with amazing colourful artwork and there were some interesting museums.


The Chileans are big drinkers and Bellavista was the place to see this too. The street bars full of people from 6pm until the wee small hours. Except for the the Saturday night I was there, when all the bars closed at midnight because of an election the next day. No drinking on election day and it´s illegal not to vote.

I visited the Museum of International Solidarity, it was in memory of Salvador Allende Gossans, the president of whose government was overthrown in a coup in 1973 by General Pinochet, with help from the USA. He supposedly committed suicide. There are many art works with anti US sentiments. The art works were hidden during the Pinochet years.

I love Valpo

Two hours on the bus and I was in Valparaiso, a once rich port city on the Pacific coast until the Panama Canal was opened. Now a decaying but atmospheric city that is slowly being restored. It is a UNESCO heritage sight and is built over a number of hills which have ancient elevators (ascensors) to save you having to climb up. Most of the city´s buildings were destroyed by an earthquake in 1862. The shells of some of these buildings still stand near the port.

Brightly coloured houses and buildings next to crumbling slums. It's best not to stray too far from the busy streets, there's always a presence of danger lurking in the shadows. The streets are brightened by some amazing street art / graffiti. The girl's tee shirt said 'I love Valpo', the heart was crossed out and she was missing her hand bag, maybe she'd been unlucky and had it snatched.

Valparaiso is the home of Chilean Armada (Navy). A retired Captain of the Royal Navy, Lord Cochrane, arrived in Chile in 1818 and became head of the Chilean fleet with the rank of Admiral. Under his command the Chilean Armada defeated the Spanish Armada which led to an independent Chile.

Not really knowing where I was going next, I find I can get a bus from Valparaiso to Mendoza in Argentina. An amazing bus journey over the Andes. The mountains were incredible . Aconcagau could be seen form the bus in all it´s glory towering above us at 6962 metres high.

Don´t cry for me......

Crossing into Argentina was an easy process with no hold ups. At customs we all had to get off the bus, but instead of our bags being checked a cup was passed round for tips for the customs officials.

I arrived in Mendoza and the contrast with Valparaiso could not be greater. The tree lined streets felt safe and the atmosphere was relaxed. It is literally an oasis in the desert, I was told it only rains 3 or 4 times a year. It rained 5 times during my stay! The city was destroyed by an earthquake in 1861 and completely rebuilt with a wide streets and a main square, Plaza Indepencia and four smaller squares, Plazas Italy, Spain, Chile and San Martin. If another earthquake struck the people would be safe in these areas. The beautiful San Martin Park was great for walking in and the park gates were even made in Scotland.

The Italian influence in Mendoza is very obvious with the people dressing with style and many expensive shops. If it wasn´t for the amount of ancient cars on the roads it would be easy to mistake it for a city in Europe.

As well as Jesus, the trees are the savior in Mendoza. No one would live there without them. It´s possible to walk in shade through most of the city. With temperatures in the mid 30´s this was a welcome relief. Between the pavements and roads are a system of aqua ducts that provide water for the trees. The trees also help absorb some of the pollution that belch from the ancient cars that choke the streets. With a 50% import tax on imported goods even the oldest most wrecked car is still worth something.

I was soon getting into the local way of life; taking mate (a herb drink) and siestas, eating far too much steak at the many asados (BBQ´s) and drinking the local wine. I enrolled with a school to learn Spanish and end up staying for 3 weeks. I was lucky that I met a girl, Mariana, who could help me with my Spanish in return for helping her with her English. It´s difficult socialise with local people when travelling so it was great going out with her and her friends. She was from Buenos Aries but had moved to Mendoza to escape the rat race.

My first long bus journey took me to Tucuman. Maybe you would think that 15 hours in a bus was unbearable but the seats recline, there´s plenty of room and food and drinks are served. They are very luxurious compared with the buses back home.



Tucuman was in the middle of a heat wave when I arrived The streets were deserted, everybody taking their siesta, this was really the only option. The next day the local paper reported the temperature as 39 deg C, with the highest energy demands in the country ever. Strange seeing Christmas decorations in the summer.

Don´t mention the war...

I arrived in Cafayate in mid afternoon, that meant siesta time and everything was closed. I got invited to sit with three old men outside a cafe. They told me they like Scottish people but not the English because of the war over the Falklands. I nod in agreement and say how bad it was, not wanting to add that there were Scottish troops fighting on the front lines.... Peoples' confusion over which countries actually makes up the UK is usually to my advantage. They were all poets and gave me some of their poetry books. Later they invite me to a recital and we share wine bread and cheese. They wanted nothing in return but the next time I´m in Cafayate I have to bring some poetry from Scotland for them.

The town was really nice. A large central square full of trees surrounded by colonial style building and a pretty church. The countryside is full of vineyards the town produces some good wines. A morning was spent visiting some of the Bodegas (wine cellars) to taste the wine. The Torrontes was particularly good.

Nearby was an area called Quebrada de las Conches. The road winds it´s way through amazing coloured mountains, red and green from iron and copper deposits. Strangely eroded mountains and enormous ravines where mighty rivers once flowed and cauldrons where waterfalls once cascaded.

Salta is home of the Archaeological museum of the high Mountains. This houses 3 Inca mummies which were found on Volcan Llullaillaco in 1999. They were perfectly preserved by the high altitude and freezing temperatures. Only one is on display in the museum at a time. The little boy,with his head resting on his knees, looked like he would wake from his sleep at any time. Salta was a great place to stay for a few days. It was vibrant city and had beautiful buildings, churches.

Two nights in Tilcara to let me acclimatize to the altitude, now 2500m. Adobe buildings, dirt roads and many indigenous people. I´d left the modern Argentina behind.



Many artists and musicians have made this their home and I was lucky to be able to go to an evening of folk music, with guitar, accordion and singing. High on a hill above the town was the remains of and ancient city, Pulkara de Tilcara, dating from 1500BC. More impressive were the huge cacti growing through the remains.

I sat high up on the hill watching lightening hit the mountains on each side of the valley. Better get to safety, the riders on the storm were coming.

Between Tilcara and Humahuaca the road passed a little sign letting the passengers on the ancient bus know that they had crossed the Tropic of Capricorn. On one side of the bus amazing mountains coloured red and yellow from iron and sulphur deposits, on the other side the Rio Grande and old railway tracks, at times suspended in air where bridges had been washed away. Only the ghosts of long forgotten trains follow these tracks now. My time in Argentina was nearly over but not before a stop in Humahuaca, another town of adobe buildings, cobbled streets and 3000m above sea level. Finally a short two hour bus journey to the border with Bolivia at La Quiaca. The scenery was changing, the towns were changing, the influence of Bolivia becoming apparent. A little taste of things to come.

Reaching the border at lunch time was no problem with only a short queue of people. There were hundreds of Bolivians crossing the border with huge amounts of goods but they didn't seem to need to have any documents checked. I was full of excitement and anticipation with the thought of traveling in Bolivia, crossing into the unknown, new people and a different culture.

Argentina is the 8th largest country in the world after India. Visiting the cities, it's easy to think that it's a modern and developed country. The run down areas and slums on the edge of the cities say otherwise. The country is slowly recovering from the financial crash in 2001 but with inflation at 25% and wages not increasing, it's tough for ordinary people to get by. With many natural resources including minerals and fertile land, and only 40 million people a full recovery is a possibility. Unfortunately the gap between the rich and poor is getting bigger and 25% of the population live in poverty.
On a positive note, it´s an amazing country to visit, with incredible landscapes and welcoming, friendly people. I plan to return to Argentina and visit Buenos Aries at the end of this trip.