I got up today, and guess what? It was raining!!! %$#%

I was starting to dislike Santiago. I thought I was really going to have a good time, because Chilenos are really nice, I was going to referee, and I had two local friends here. But I ended up not refereeing, my friends were too busy for me and it rained or was cloudy all the time.

I was still determined to visit the places that I wanted to visit. My first stop was Parque Metropolitana. This was a giant park on a mountain filled with full of activities. I put three layers of jackets on, mittens, my waterproff hiking boots and was off at 10am.

I walked all the way to the entrance and took the funicular to the top (This is what they call it, it might not be the same in English). Then, I ended up walking through the park which looked like a dead city (however everything was kind of open!). I went to go see the virgin Mary at the top, which was odd to me, because usually they have Jesus at the top. Then, I wanted to go to the botanical garden, but realized I was too high, so I took a short cut through the woods, and ended up getting lost. And the adventure begins...

So here I was, alone, the park practically closed with no one knowing where I was, and I was lost in the woods with a wet map that was barely visible anymore. I felt like Bear Grylls in Man vs Wild, trying to survive. I found a little trail which seemed to be a trail for bikes. I followed it until I lost the trail and had to make my own. Suddenly, I slip and fall in the mud (keep in mind, it is still raining very hard). I knew that it was going to inevitably happen...

Then, I find an abandonned fire place, extinguished of course. I start thinking about these paranoid stories about a tarzan-like man living here and whom will jump me from behing and cut my throat and eat me for dinner. These thoughts make me look in back and all around me every few seconds.

Eventually, I find the edge of the mountain, and am able to see the breathless panoramic view of Santiago. I decide to follor the edge of the mountain until I find something. I do! I find these black ropes that are used to rock climb the mountain. Good thing, because the ground was incredibly slipery. It seems like I was not the only one to be stupid enough to diverge from the main road...

I climb the hill until I finally read the main road at the top! I made it! Now, I had to walk all the way back down along the main road to leave the mountain. I was soaked, muddy and cold, and just wanted to go back to the hostel, but I had a ways to go before I got back. Ironically, all of the places that I wanted to go here, I ended up passing along the way...

I finally get back to the hostel an hour later. I am relunctant to change my clothes to dry ones. I make myself a nice lunch with gnocchi, and chicken tomato sauce and metlted cheese (all things that I bought at the grocery store a few days back). After, I dried up a bit, I decided to face the rain once more. This time I was not as ambitious and only decided to do one other place, La Chascona. This was Pablo Neruda's Santiago home. I was so fascinated by his home in Valparaiso that I had to go to this one.

When I got there (by taxi this time!), I was surprised to notice that a tour for English or French speaking people was 3500 pesos, but a tour for Spanish speaking people was 2000 pesos, and because I was a student, i got it for 1000 pesos. What a bargain! It was a good thing that I could now understand Spanish!

During the tour, the tour guide spoke in a lightspeed form, but I was able to understand! I was a bit dissapointed because this house was not nearly as amazing as his Valparaiso home, but I was still glad that I went. I walked back from La Chascona because it was raining less. I went to an internet cafe, and found out that Sabine (from Cusco) was arriving at 6pm. I told her to come stay at my hostel, and she agreed.

I got to my hostel around 7pm and waited for Sabine. Stewart was leaving from the hostel because he finally found a place to stay. He wanted to pass on a book to me which I thanked hi for. This book was recommended to me by many other people that I met during my trip. Maybe it was fate that it just happened to be handed to me. The book was Ernesto Che Gueverra's Motorcycle Diaries.

Sabine came at around 8pm. We planned to go out to eat along with Trinh and Zahra, and then go out for my last night. We searched a bit long for a restaurant until we got tired of walking in the rain. Afterwards, we went out to this really nice place called Subterreneo, which was recommended by the staff in the hostel. It was kind of empty, but I just imagined what it was like on weekends.

After a couple of drink, we were all very tired so we went home at 1am. At the hostel, I was told that the Chile-Argentina border had been closed or a few days and might stay closed for the next 5 days because of the rain (a bus through the mountains when the roads are slipery is not the saffest thing...). I was praying that the border was going to be open tomorrow. I did not have much time in South America and I couldn't afford to waist another day...