First snows

The seasons seems to be racing along now as on Saturday the aforementioned deluge broke loose and it rained all day and was really cold (around 12 degrees centigrade - how quickly we forget).

So that meant only one thing yesterday for our planned walk in the mountains... there was snow!

In fact we were treated to three seasons in one; imagine, clear blue sky, hot beaming sun, yellow and golden leaves and snowcapped mountains. Simply breathtaking.

Our destination was Cajon del Maipo, a gorge or canyon up in the Andes around an hour south-east of the city. It's a favourite weekend haunt of Santiaguinos, and as you would expect on Easter weekend, there were a lot of cars.

Funnily enough, we were the only ones walking and on a couple of occasions, drivers stopped to ask us directions. We were a little surprised, as we don't exactly look like outdoorsy types, but I guess the fact that we were exploring the valley on the power of two legs (and without the guide which seems to be mandatory here) suggested otherwise.

We barely scratched the surface of the cajon, covering around 10 miles in total, but the views were amazing and it will be interesting to go back in the winter to see how it changes.

Autumn leaves

Autumn leaves in Parque Forestal

Upside-down seasons are bamboozling. I have to remind myself that we are in April, as the city gradually slips into autumn. This is my favourite time of year; fresh mornings, golden low evening sunlight and leaves turning to vivid orange and reds. What an extra joy it is, therefore, to have all of this plus still warm temperatures! It is happily reaching 20 degrees or more in the daytime, although of course, all the locals have their jumpers and scarves out. It's only the gringos that are still reaching for the shorts.

Yesterday, we spent a lovely afternoon ambling through some of downtown Santiago's older neighbourhoods. We started out in Londres - the rambling cobbled streets flanked by Victorian-style town houses which I've written about before. Then we moved onto Lastarria - in essence, Moseley, for those of you who know Brum. Winding streets, cool architecture, funky shops, trees, classical street musicians, antique fairs and barely a Chilean accent in earshot. This is the haunt of the (largely British) expats - a slice of home amongst the hustle and dust of the South American city.

While in the vicinity, we visited Plop! gallery - a small museum of illustration, comic books and graphic art. Basically just a shop with a small room for exhibition space, we saw work from, unusually, a female artist called Marcela Trujillo, who presented some very funny strips about a character in her late teens/early twenties and her very recognisable adventures.

Churros

Adjoining the neighbourhood of Lastarria, is Parque Forestal - a luscious slip of shady forest along the Mapocho river. It was planted at the end of the nineteenth century and at the weekend is host to scores of Chilean families. Aside from the hair-raising sight of a Chilean child on a brake-less tricycle haring towards you, it's a tranquil spot. We enjoyed some Spanish churros (fried dough sprinkled with icing sugar) from one of the many food vendors and a pleasant paseo around the park.

Rosa's ice-cream

Before we returned home, we stopped off at what is reputed to be the best ice-cream parlour in Santiago - Rosa's emporium. Testimony to this it was heaving, but we managed to get ourselves an ice-cream each, upside-down like the seasons. Sadly the earl grey flavour which I had been keen to try had run out, so I instead opted for chirimoya alegre. Chirimoya being a native fruit that tastes a bit like a banana but with a more juicy and citric tang. (Alegre meaning happy).

And next time I will try to write about something that doesn't involve food!

Pomaire

As previously mentioned in my post about food, we spent a delightful afternoon last weekend in an enchanting village called Pomaire. Located about an hour south-west of Santiago, we were dropped off by the bus on the side of the motorway (this is Chile after all) and walked the short distance along the one road in and out of the village.

According to my trusty copy of the Rough Guide to Chile, Pomaire (pronounced pom - aye - ray) was established in the 18th century by Spanish colonisers in an attempt to control the more nomadic indigenous population. It is famed for its pottery - the surrounding hills being packed with clay - and the main street is filled with workshops selling, in the main, cookware and piggy banks (chanchitas).

Pomaire necklace with new skirt

With my magpie's eye for anything colourful and pretty, I quickly spotted a tiny shop selling gorgeous ceramic jewellery. Of course, I felt compelled to take ownership of one of their wares, particularly one that would match my (ahem) impulse skirt purchase from earlier in the week. (Note to my UK readers familiar with my shopping habit - it has been so long since I've had the guts to even mooch around any shop other than a department store or American style mall, neither of which I can afford, these two little treats were long overdue. And beautiful).

We also discovered an amazing cactus shop, with hundreds, if not thousands of cacti spread out on tables in front of someone's house. Missing our prickly friends from back home, we bought one, which hopefully we will keep alive until it is time for us to leave.

The rest, you know; two enormous meals of humitas and cazuela followed by mote con huesillos which we had to force down on top of a full stomach before catching the very bumpy bus back to Santiago.

While Pomaire has built itself a reputation for crafts and homecooking (its main draw is the half-kilo empanada) it didn't feel overly commercialised, despite the best efforts of various restaurateurs jumping on any gringo-looking passer-by and trying to lure them in with promises of cueca and mama's best from the oven. Without wishing to sound pompous, the village had an air of authenticity and didn't feel like a theme park attraction with bus loads of tourists, as many places like this can. Not least because of the ever-present reminder that most of the workshops and restaurants were also people's homes where they try to scratch a living.

More food

Lately, Carlos and I have been pursuing our Chilean adventure through the medium of traditional meals, warranting a second full post on Chilean cuisine. Enjoy.

Pastel de choclo 

Pastel de choclo

Pastel de choclo (literally translated as 'corn cake') is the meal every Chilean remembers their mom or their grandma making. It's a bit like a meat pie, only the topping is made from ground corn rather than potatoes or pastry. Underneath are strips of tender beef and chicken in gravy, along with a boiled egg and an olive. The dish has a strange sensation of being both sweet and savoury; the corn is quite sweet anyway, but I'm told it also has sugar sprinkled on top. How Chileans eat this dish in the midday sun I don't know, but they do.

Cazuela

Cazuela de pavo (turkey) with the 'everything' salad and
bread with pebre

In a word stew. I ordered this dish in Pomaire yesterday (more on this in the next post) and it came out served in a massive bowl, leg of turkey sticking out the top with a dollop of squash and potato and a garnish of green beans (porotos verdes - a very popular vegetable here). You can have it with chicken or beef too. Suffice to say, when eating this at four in the afternoon for lunch, I nearly exploded. Tasty though.

Humitas

Humitas (with an ensalada chilena in the background)

This was Carlos' Pomaire dish of choice. An humita consists of mashed corn wrapped in its leaves and tied into a parcel. We're not entirely sure what else goes into them - definitely onion and a herb, which Wikipedia tells me is basil, plus butter or lard. To me, they tasty quite meaty, so perhaps that was the lard. Impressively, two humitas foiled Carlos, possibly the first time of seen him unable to finish a meal.

Agregados
Or side dishes. So far we've had two traditional meals in traditional Chilean restaurants and the procedure seems to be as follows. Start with a bread roll topped with pebre - a hot salsa-type sauce made from tomatoes, onion, garlic, coriander and jalapeno peppers. I adore it (it's what I have on sopaipillas) and definitely need to have a go at making it myself. Then your main dish comes (which usually consists of meat and corn at the very least) accompanied by a salad - either a simple ensalda chilena of tomato and onion or an 'everything' salad, usually consisting of tomato and beetroot as a base, as well as cauliflower, carrot, cucumber or whatever else is to hand.

Mote con huesillos

Mote con huesillos

Either a dessert or drink made from a sweet sticky peach syrup served with a whole peach inside it (the huesillos) and husks of wheat (the mote). Clearly not looking like we'd been fed enough, we were given some for pudding by the restaurant in Pomaire where we'd had the humitas and cazuela. We then had to knock it back before getting on the return bus to Santiago. Needless to say, I cant give you a proper review, except to say that it was very sweet, a little strange (odd sensation of syrup and cereal) but enjoyable. We'll be valiant and give them another try before we leave.

Empanadas

Empanadas (the things that look like
brownish-yellow parcels)

Empanadas are to Chile what fish and chips are to the UK. The national dish, in essence, is a Cornish pasty - pastry stuffed with a range of hot ingredients. The most common is pino; you guessed it, beef, gravy, a boiled egg and an olive. There's also a really nice one filled with cheese and (surprise, surprise) corn and one filled with cheese and olives. I've also heard of some great seafood varieties but have yet to try one. Empanadas are so common that I've realised I've neglected to take a photograph out of the numerous quantities I've sampled. Nevertheless, they popped up on this monument to Chile built for Columbus Day at Estadio Español in October.

Today's forecast: sunny skies

Of course I love talking about the weather, I'm British. So I had to share this photo I took this morning. Look at the horizon of smog running across the centre of the picture! A dirty cloud obscuring the mountain and covering everything with black dust.

A horizon of smog

This is the first time I've actually been able to see the smog from down here in the thick of it. Usually, everything just looks a little hazy. Apart from the tell tale signs of sore eyes, itchy nose and black tissues. The first time I truly saw the smog was driving down the mountain from the city's most exclusive neighbourhood up in the Andes. I looked down upon a murky city of shiny high rises blanketed in a thick dusty brown cloud.

Smog is a perennial problem here. Santiago is trapped in a basin between two mountain ranges. There is no wind in the valley and the prevailing weather systems die out before they have a chance to cross the high peaks. It hasn't rained since three freakish days in mid-January when we had spectacularly unseasonable cloud, drizzle and (small) thunder storms. Rain is such an event that everyone can remember when it last happened. Since I arrived, I can count three times.

Apparently the first rains will fall in May. When they happen, I am told there will be a deluge. Perhaps then, we will be able to bask once more in the glory that is the Andes mountains. A cinematic backdrop that has been hidden for most of the summer.

But for now, despite the pollution, I shall continue to enjoy waking up every morning, knowing that it will be sunny and that I don't need to carry my umbrella.