We are staying in a house owned by Victor Ibarra in the outskirts of Santiago. We appear to be the only overnight guests and therefore were invited to eat in the kitchen. This being Chile, there was a jar of Nescafe on the table with a Thermos of hot water, but was asked for hot milk instead. Breakfast was scrambled eggs served in the pan, bread, cheese and jams. On the TV was the Chilean version of Loose Women and they seemed to be discussing how hard it is to be a single Dad.
After breakfast Victor drove is south to the Undurraga vineyards for a tour. Our guide was very pleasant, with a gentle spiel and bad jokes. The most interesting bit was when he showed us some Mapuche artefacts. Discussing the question of independence for indigenous peoples (as you do on a vineyard tour) he revealed that a few years ago he had been arrested and beaten up by the Chilean police for taking part in a protest supporting the Mapuche. He told us his experience wasn't bad but the Mapuche got far worse.
After that wine tasting seemed an artificial thing to do, but we tasted it. He asked us why we chink out wine glasses? His answer was that you see, smell, taste and feel wine but don't hear it. Somehow we managed to darken things by explaining that in Hungary it is rude to chink glasses as in the days of the Austro-Hungarian empire, the firing squads used to chink their wine glasses before executing political prisoners. It struck a nerve.
Moving on, we decided to head into Santiago in search of lunch. Victor would have run us but we decided to catch the local bus. Buses in Chile have changed much recently. Even in 2002 when we first came, they swarmed the streets, yellow, dusted and badly dinted, jostling for space and passengers. We spent a happy afternoon of our honeymoon sat at a street café watching them nearly colliding.
Safety rules have been tightened up and now it is less frenetic. Still we got on, the driver drove off whilst giving change and handing out tickets. As the buses were crowded some people got on by the back entrance and passed their fare along to the front and then the change and ticket would come back.
We were decanted at Estacion Central in Barrio Brasil, and decided to take the underground to Providencia. As with everywhere in Santiago, the public transport system is packed, cheap and efficient.
We got off at Station Pedro de Valdivia. The surroundings were familiar but the street name wasn't. The street was now called Neuva Providencia. When we last came to Santiago in 2007 it was still called 11 de Septembriere to celebrate the date of the Pinochet coup and death of Allende.
We headed to El Heurto, a vegetarian restaurant we visited on our honeymoon. It was busy, packed with ladies who lunch. After a beer to slake our thirst, we drank a half bottle of fizz and enjoyed some of the best veggie food in the country.
After a quick beer watching the world go buy, and a walk around the shops to buy a picnic dinner, we squeezed ourselves back on to the underground and got back to Estacion Centrale.
Somehow, we the help of a kindly bus company official, we got on the right bus back. Hawkers got on the bus and sold bottles of water but we were to slow and they were off again in a flash.
Miraculously we got home and spent a quiet evening enjoying the darkness.