This football malarkey is really taking it out of me. You need to be in a bar drinking pints early over here because of the time difference. I say need to be, because you do. Consequently we’re stoatering down the street after the Ireland game looking for somewhere to wee in broad daylight. Why I didn’t go to the bathroom in the bar I don’t know. Paddy stuffs himself with a street hot dog, and by the time it gets dark, we’re somewhere called ‘St Patrick Day’ watching waiters bring out plates of chips covered in beef strips with gravy. Yes it might sound decent but it’s a heart attack on a plate. We then buy two terrible pizzas, locked off our heads and singing Irish songs, trying to engage a couple of young ladies by bribing them with a slice each. We’re in bed by 11pm.
Santiago is a great city, sitting in the stunning backdrop of Andes mountains, snow white caps in the distance. You could be forgiven for thinking you were in Madrid, Barcelona or, as Paddy rightly points out, Boston, with expansive tree lined avenues that smack of cosmopolitan splendor and European grandeur. The difference between here and other South America capitals so far is
astounding, particularly in neighbouring Bolivia. The price has also gone up considerably, with the cost of living actually being very similar to the UK than anywhere else. It’s a place you want to stay, but with such expense and so few travelers as a result, perhaps it’s best to move on as soon as possible. Not until we’ve been to some vineyards of course; Chile make the best red wine in the world.
Football crazies
This football malarkey is really taking it out of me. You need to be in a bar drinking pints early over here because of the time difference. I say need to be, because you do. Consequently we’re stoatering down the street after the Ireland game looking for somewhere to wee in broad daylight. Why I didn’t go to the bathroom in the bar I don’t know. Paddy stuffs himself with a street hot dog, and by the time it gets dark, we’re somewhere called ‘St Patrick Day’ watching waiters bring out plates of chips covered in beef strips with gravy. Yes it might sound decent but it’s a heart attack on a plate. We then buy two terrible pizzas, locked off our heads and singing Irish songs, trying to engage a couple of young ladies by bribing them with a slice each. We’re in bed by 11pm.
Santiago is a great city, sitting in the stunning backdrop of Andes mountains, snow white caps in the distance. You could be forgiven for thinking you were in Madrid, Barcelona or, as Paddy rightly points out, Boston, with expansive tree lined avenues that smack of cosmopolitan splendor and European grandeur. The difference between here and other South America capitals so far is
astounding, particularly in neighbouring Bolivia. The price has also gone up considerably, with the cost of living actually being very similar to the UK than anywhere else. It’s a place you want to stay, but with such expense and so few travelers as a result, perhaps it’s best to move on as soon as possible. Not until we’ve been to some vineyards of course; Chile make the best red wine in the world.