arica
It was a quick two hour trip over the border from Tacna to Arica. Cheap too at $2. I got to the bus station to find a 'collectivo' and had to wait a little while. Outside the bus station I had my most meaningful and lengthty conversation in Spanish yet. With a Peruvian whino! I wasn't drunk and neither was he but amazingly I understood most of what he was saying! Warnings about Chileans, crime and the lousy food there. All fastinating topics coming from a vagrant.
The border crossing into Chile was fairly painless. Although I must say the guy with the sniffer dog did seem overly zealous in egging the dog on to find something in my bag. The dog was excited but didn't bark thankfully as that would have meant a full search of the bag. Of course I had nothing to fear but these animals are not infallible. I reckon the dog was more interested in my bread rolls. But I was waved through.
My first encounter with a Chilean wasn't so good. I needed to get some of their currency and I could not find an exchange place so I spoke with a walking exchange bloke. He gave me a rubbish rate and made a fine profit from my ignorance of the official rate. The taxi driver did me too for a nice fare. As soon as I recovered my balance, I woke up to the other reality of Chile. Compared to its neighbours, it is damn expensive. Really expensive !! I would stand in shock looking at the prices on restaurant menus.
Arica is a mall coastal town and surrounded by desert. As I was still on my alcohol prohibition I didn't really sample the nightlife in the short time I was there. I saw the sights. An old military museum is perched on top of a hill overlooking the city is the main drawcard. Nationalism is kind of rampant here. The sight is endorsed by Pinochet, of course. It seems the Mr Eiffel was popular here too and was commissioned to design the main church on the Plaza. Apparentlty he never even came to these parts but had everything fabricated in his Paris studio and shipped over. That would explain its unremarkable appearance I suppose.
Another thing that quickly dawned on me about Chile was the relative lack of street vendors. In Peru, it's impossible not to trip over several of them on an average walk. I grew fond of buying a fresh fruit juice in the mornings. I liked having my shoes shined too. All very cheaply found too. But these professions are strangely absent on this side of the border.
I was starting to miss Peru.
The border crossing into Chile was fairly painless. Although I must say the guy with the sniffer dog did seem overly zealous in egging the dog on to find something in my bag. The dog was excited but didn't bark thankfully as that would have meant a full search of the bag. Of course I had nothing to fear but these animals are not infallible. I reckon the dog was more interested in my bread rolls. But I was waved through.
My first encounter with a Chilean wasn't so good. I needed to get some of their currency and I could not find an exchange place so I spoke with a walking exchange bloke. He gave me a rubbish rate and made a fine profit from my ignorance of the official rate. The taxi driver did me too for a nice fare. As soon as I recovered my balance, I woke up to the other reality of Chile. Compared to its neighbours, it is damn expensive. Really expensive !! I would stand in shock looking at the prices on restaurant menus.
Arica is a mall coastal town and surrounded by desert. As I was still on my alcohol prohibition I didn't really sample the nightlife in the short time I was there. I saw the sights. An old military museum is perched on top of a hill overlooking the city is the main drawcard. Nationalism is kind of rampant here. The sight is endorsed by Pinochet, of course. It seems the Mr Eiffel was popular here too and was commissioned to design the main church on the Plaza. Apparentlty he never even came to these parts but had everything fabricated in his Paris studio and shipped over. That would explain its unremarkable appearance I suppose.
Another thing that quickly dawned on me about Chile was the relative lack of street vendors. In Peru, it's impossible not to trip over several of them on an average walk. I grew fond of buying a fresh fruit juice in the mornings. I liked having my shoes shined too. All very cheaply found too. But these professions are strangely absent on this side of the border.
I was starting to miss Peru.
posted by Ciarán at 10:53 p.m.
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