Chile called me. I started by Santiago, already knowing that it is a city with dry climate, away from carioca moisture that is around 80%. The throat scraped the first day, but soon it got used to the air because it was impossible to not want to belong to that city, as if she had already inhabited my memories. The blue sky and the sunshine of spring received me with open arms, it was difficult to convince my nose that this dryness was pleasant and welcoming.
Bread, avocado and tea welcomed me also. I discovered the next day that busy streets of downtown during the week, are transformed into silent streets on Sundays.
A dish of Japanese food and more avocado were the lunch of the day, the makimono wrapped in avocado was amazing. They should do it in Brazil. The love for soccer, the national passion, broke the silence of the day, with fans of the Colo Colo team in buses and cars, celebrating with flags.
Colorful graffiti were a constant part of my wanderings by Santiago; the city exudes a youthful atmosphere not seen anywhere else, translated primarily into the street art on any wall that can be painted.
Monday was fleeting, with people running through the Mall, people dressed in costume and going to hurry to finish the day, when all I wanted was that the days would last forever.
Changing money is very easy in Santiago, there are many currency exchange available on the streets of the Centre, and the money paid from the moment that you understand the values, in my case I took in mypocket a table to compare with the real when it had doubts.
The library of the GAM (Gabriela Mistral Cultural Center) invites you to discover and unravel the Chilean literature. Very close by there I stumbled across an entrance to a magical place, after a few minutes I realized that was the Cerro Santa Lucia, where I had planned to go to the next day, but was irresistible to not enter at that moment.
Many stray dogs of Santiago appear to have a special attachment to the Hill, perhaps the sound of the fountain, all lying down in their shadows as if there were no tomorrow. There is no paid entry, just sign the book in a sympathetic way, up the stairs and contemplate the view of the city.
The result of this Monday was a book of Neruda and one of Vargas Llosa, bookstores abound in the city. On Tuesday I was invited to stroll the Lastarria neighborhood and then the Chilean Museum of pre-Columbian art. La Chascona was what I most wanted to see and I was not disappointed in any detail. It is a wonderful house of a fabulous writer, Neruda, located in a neighborhood called Bellavista, with endless charm. I asked a beer in the afternoon which lasted until the evening in the courtyard of the same name.
The next day, I went to a hill called San Cristobal. It was a delicious tour, I ordered a pie to eat, I bought my postcards, I fell in love with the city a couple of times. I went but to return.
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