"I think I see a Mountain!"

 

Last week I was talking with my host mother when I mentioned that I wanted to go skiing sometime in Chile. She warned me that the season was nearing its end, especially for most of the ski resorts close to where we live, and she explained that if I wanted good snow, I should probably go sooner rather than later. Five days later, on Friday morning, my new friend Evert and I paid the equivalent of five dollars each and hopped onto a coach bus, destination Santiago. We arrived in the capital city about two hours later, dropped our stuff off at a hostel near the center of the city (and smack dab in the center of all the nightlife, the reviews promised), and began to explore the area. After some aimless wandering around the dead quiet neighborhood (apparently there aren't many people out before noon on a Friday of vacation..), we decided to hit up some of the places suggested by a traveler's best friend, Lonely Planet. We took a tour in Spanish of Pablo Neruda's house in Santiago, ate lunch at the restaurant across the street from a famous seafood palace (because the prices were one third the price), walked through the central park, admiring the statues and the graffiti on the statues, went to the Plaza de Armas, but didn't go into the museums because they were all still closed due to the holidays, and ate ice cream at a Chilean chain ice cream shop that claims to be one of the top 25 ice cream parlors in all of the world. We also visited Cerro St. Cristo. I had been before, but Evert hadn't and the view is a must. This time though, instead of taking the ascensor, we hiked up to the top; it wasn't Campana level by any means, but it was a lovely walk. 

A taste of the different street art found in Santiago in the Bellavista neighborhood.

Evert reading one of Pablo Neruda's poems outside his house in Santiago (more on Pablo to come another day) 

Fairly typical dining atmosphere in the Capital city-one man band included. 

Cerro Cristo a second time. 

Packing our tuna and avocado lunch for the next day. Points for resourcefulness!

Friday night was a night of relaxation (in anticipation for a crazy Saturday), and instead of going out, we hung out in the hostel and met our 10 other roommates, listened to their adventure stories and learned all the cool things people are doing in Chile these days. For example, one boy from the US was about to go on a three month trip to Patagonia, backpacking for half the time and sea kayaking the other half. Cool, huh? I love hostels!

Saturday morning, we woke up before the sun and headed off to Ski Total, a sketchy looking store about a 45min bus ride away from the hostel. After gathering all the equipment we were going to need, we boarded a large white van with some other eager future mountain skiers, and off we went. It practically never rains in Chile, at least where I live (it's rained once since I've arrived), but of course Saturday was the second time, and as we began our ascent, the rain began to fall. It was not looking promising.

  Photo taken from the bus ride up-notice the cactus covered in snow!! 

But I shouldn't have worried. Once we passed the tree line, the cactus line, and the pretty much everything that's not snow or rock line, it became quite obvious that a lack of snow was not going to be a problem we were going to encounter. In fact, it was almost the opposite. I wish I could show you an incredible view, of me standing on top of a snow covered mountain with the most amazing Andes view stretched out behind me, perhaps the small ski village off in the distance, and the sun sparkling on freshly groomed snow. But I can't. Here is the closest I have…

 

As you can see, everything was WHITE! We could barely see one chair ahead of us on the chairlift, and despite the fact that we were at the LARGEST SKI RESORT in all of South America, we probably saw less than 200 people total on all of the slopes. In the middle of one of the less frequented runs, I stopped. All around me was pure white. I couldn't see anything in front of me, behind me, on either side of me or even above me: only whiteness. And silence too. It was one of the most impressionate moments I've ever experienced, because it felt as if I was completely and utterly alone in nowhere. Incredible.

 

 

I'm sure some would argue that the ski conditions themselves were less than ideal, but for me, skiing in the Andes in almost two feet of fresh powder (not even groomed), was more than I could have asked for. Quite often, I was blazing my own ski trail, and when I would look down at my feet there would be no evidence of skies; they were completely buried under the blanket of rapidly moving snow. I wipped out, full on face first, rolling dives, probably 7 or 8 times, but none of them hurt even the least because there was so much fluffy snow. On the more popular runs, the trails of all the skiers formed almost powder moguls which were a wonderful adventure for me. In their trails, the conditions were perfect for carving and speeding down the hill with control, but as soon as I'd hit a powdered section, the momentum of my lower body would slow much faster than my upper body could register, and BOOM down I'd fly. Snow eating time! It was fantastic.

Skiing on one of the main slopes after the sky cleared up enough to take pictures.

Yo me caí !

About an hour before we had to leave, the sky started to clear up. We were able to make out the sun, the chair lift wires and poles, the occasional other skier, and I think, I´m not 100% sure, but I think I saw a mountain!

On the drive back, when we stopped to take off the snow chains, then there was a stunning view, and despite the fact that we were all drained of energy, everybody hoped out of the van to take pictures.  Funny how we spent the entire day skiing in the Andes, and it wasn't until the way down that we could distinguish a moutain from white.    

 

Evert and I napped on the bus ride back to the base and then concluded our day with some live music at a local bar (a mix of spanish pop and 80s classics) and some drinks. By 4am, we had reached maximum fatigue and headed back to our home for the night. The word asco in Spanish means gross or disgusting, and my grammar teacher once explained that some people have nicknamed the capital city as Santiasco, because it is a big city, full of big city characteristics, like pollution, graffiti (but not the beautiful Valparaiso kind), busy people, noisy traffic, etc. My first experience in the city was more Santiasco like; I was not impressed. However, after this weekend, I have a much greater appreciation for the city. The beauty perhaps is not a clear as it is in other cities, but it does exist, and it has successfully captivated me;  I am already planning my next trip.

Sunset on the mountains in Santiago (photo credit-Evert)

 

When we returned to Valparaiso, we had one last mission. Because the weather is acting slightly unusual here (like it is in many other parts of the world..), it was not quite as hot as we were hoping, but none the less, we did the Chile thing; within 24 hours, I went skiing in the Andes and swimming (well almost swimming) in the ocean. Not too bad, eh?

 

  One of the beaches near my house.