Graves, Shells and Bulls

After ending my day of museums with a special night-time tour of the horrendously bad collection at National Museum of Bellas Artes, I was ready to pack the whole thing in. But out of respect to Salvador Allende, and the history that had not yet made history, I decided to catch the train out to see his tomb, and try and redeem the situation.

Buried in the ‘general’ cemetery, as opposed to the more exclusive Catholic one across the road, I was told Allende’s resting place would be easy to find. And it was. Unlike Recoleta, in Buenos Aires, this place was full of genuine mourners – there to pay their weekend respects. Again, I was the only tourist interested enough to make it past the lines and lines of names, dates and lives past, set out in sterile blocks.

Located straight off O’Higgins Street, the Allende family tomb has been added to the collection of deceased Presidents of the Chile, right next to a tribute to Jesus Christ. And it is definitely one of the most modern ones here, sticking out of the ground with its marble plinths like a sore thumb. I can’t help but think: so it is in life and in death.

Realising then that my phone too has gone dead (bad pun, I know), I hurried back to the hostel, to meet up with Kylie and Nicole who are set to accompany me to Chile’s largest wine producer – Concha Y Toro. (Ok, so I guess I am all about second chances, and ending on a good note. Hence why I chose to submit myself to more South American wine, despite previous shadey encounters. Oh, and there is nothing better than sitting in the sun and indulging).

Surprisingly close to the city centre, it seems you can take the metro train all the way there, and within an hour, we were touring the beautiful gardens of the estate. Set up by the Concha y Toro (Shell and Bull) family in 1883, the vineyard was established on the original site of their summer home, and includes more than 23 hectares of park alone. Now privately-owned by a group of investors, it is also the largest international exporter in Latin America – with very good reason.

Clearly out to impress their guests, our guide treats us to a taste of their 2005 “Amelia” Chardonnay, which has spent 8 months in French oak before completing its fermentation in oak too. Definitely no ‘Musuem’ red here. Our second glass, taken in the underground cellar, comes from the Casillero de Diablo range – of which its Cabernet Sauvignon has been named fourth best in the world – and has also spent eight months gestating in American oak. Do I need to say anymore?

Top this off with the individual plate of cheese we all receive, with another glass accompanying it, and the free “regalo” (gift) glass we get at the end, and we are definitely satisfied. Argentina could certainly learn a few things from their neighbours.

Questions and Answers

My first day in Santiago was much like the weather – a little overcast, but a warm-ish 20 degrees. Following a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, fruit and coffee, individually prepared by the cook/cleaner, I hopped straight on the metro and made my way into town. I walked past the many street vendors with their woollen cardigans, squawking plastic parrots and knitted scarves, past the demonstrations of useless kitchen products (think Demtel), and ended up at the Palacio de la Moneda.

The Presidential Palace of the Chile, it is probably best known as the site of Salvador Allende’s last speech as leader of the struggling country, before troops stormed its doors, and he committed suicide. But like the days, and indeed the many years that followed Allende’s demise, its doors are closed to unofficial visitors and I instead disappear below, into the cultural centre located underneath.

A relatively new place, that has not yet made it into the Lonely Planet guide, its modern edgy design greatly contrasts the streets above. Housing several different spaces over its three levels, the centre contains galleries, art-shops, an arthouse cinema, a bookstore, cafes and restaurants – all of which are full with lunching businessmen and women. A few local tourists float around with me through the traditional Mapuche display, and the collection of religious relics below, but I am basically the only real foreigner here. (And so it continues through my most of my visit).

Taking in the Chilean Museum of Pre-Colombian art – which gave a comprehensive tour through the years and cultures of Latin America – I then made a pit-stop at El Rapido for a fish and cheese empanada. Having grown so fond of these readily available bites, I consider myself to be somewhat of a mini-expert now, sampling them across three countries. And these would definitely make my top five for their crunch, spice and yes, you guessed it, oozing cheese. I just can’t get enough!

From here, I made my way past the glum Cathedral, and slightly more lively Plaza de Armas, to the National Historical Museum to see if what they had to say about Salvador Allende, and the oppression that followed his ousting by Pinochet’s military coup. I passed patiently through the many ceramics, pieces of jewellery, clothing, portraits and weaponary on offer, many of which I have seen in other such museums, and excitedly arrived at the most modern additions. But what awaited me at the end, was not the detailed account I had hoped for, rather, the sad half-pair of glasses Allende once wore, and newspaper clippings reporting his futile death. No mention whatsoever of the next 27 years of oppression, and the affect it has had on South America’s leading economic nation.

Instead it was left to Pablo Neruda, Chile’s most famous writer and staunch socialist, and a quote of his from Book of Questions: “Porque anduvimos tanto tiempo creciendo para separrarnos?” (roughly translated: Was it because we walked so long together that time separated us?) to provide some sort of answer.