Some Art and Some History

On Tuesday and Wednesday we visited a four different museums in Santiago. A remarkable dose of art and history for us. Two art museums were within a few blocks from where we are staying. 

At Museo Ralli, the closest at just a block away, we had the whole museum to ourselves. 

Here I am catching a bit of gossip from the ladies. 

It housed a small (perfect for us) but impressive selection of primarily Latin American art.

There was also a section of European art that included a series of Chagall lithographs, some exquisite Dali sculptures, and some Miro pieces. It is a trans-national museum with other branches in Spain, Uruguay, and Israel. 

Just another short walk and we arrived at Museo de la Moda, was established in 2007 by Juan Yarur who converted his parents' modernist home, built by an architect inspired by Frank Loyd Wright.

The grandson of a textile and banking mogul, he scoured the world to put together a collection of more than 8,000 pieces of clothing. The current exhibit was a Marilyn Monroe collection. 

On Wednesday, this time armed with all the proper instructions about how to get to city center via bus and subway, we headed off to visit more museums. We have two sets of house keys but Jim didn't want to be burdened with the second set and figured we would be fine - I had previously insisted we each have a set in case we got separated. He assured me that wouldn't be necessary. 

I'm sure you have already figured out where this one is going...

Not that big of an adventure but he didn't make it out of the metro car quick enough at the transfer station, so there I was on the platform with him barreling off to the next station. Fortunately we are seasoned enough with subway travel to know, along with some non-verbal hand signals, that he would get off at the exit station and return and I would cross over to the other platform to greet him. So all worked out but we had a good laugh about it. 

Our first stop was to the Museo de la Memoria y los Derochos Humanos (the museum of memory and human rights). It is a very stark an modern structure that opened in 2010 as a memorial to the victims of Chile's military dictatorship (1973 - 1990). It was thorough, informative, heartbreaking and sobering. We were able to use English headphones as we viewed the many multimedia, pictorial, and document presentations that followed the buildup to the coup, the horrific violation of human rights, the various resistance movements, and ultimately the election that removed Pinochet from office. It reminded us somewhat of Yad Vashem holocaust memorial in Jerusalem.  We walked out of there quite humbled about how little we previously known of what happened in Chile.  I guess we were self-aborbed college students at the time.  I did have some knowledge, but only based on reading Isabelle Allende's The House of the Spirits (thank you to Felicitas for recommending it) back in the late 80's - which I have just started re-reading this week.

We walked back to city center and for the last few blocks were alongside a police escorted motorcade - a weird experience after just focusing for several hours on a military coup...not sure who it was but  we happened upon the pomp and circumstance in front of this government building. 

Our final stop was the Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino. No photos inside but a fascinating collection depicting the artistic and symbolic legend of cultures throughout Latin America. In particular, we loved the textile exhibits. 

The museum designers must have known that tired feet would find their way, and created this courtyard with stones up on end, a geological foot massage even through our shoes. 

Exiting the museum we had an evening view of the Palacio de La Moneda - Chile's presidential headquarters, originally built as a mint. It was where President Salvadore Allende took his life during the military coup that ushered in the Pinochet regime. 

Our return metro ride was uneventful other than having to figure out which of the many streets and intersections would bring us to the proper bus line. It was not a simple task but given that I am writing this, you know we found our way. We rewarded ourselves with dinner out: 

No Pisco Sours tonight, just some great Chilean wine. Have to mix it up!

A Colorful Day on the Coast

On Monday we ventured west for the 1.5 hour drive to the coastal city of Valparaiso.  In some ways, Chile is much like California where in just a short drive you can be in a totally different landscape. We do have to be flexible in our travels by car as Santiago imposes driving restrictions on certain days based on the last number of the license plate as part of their spare the air efforts.  Santiago is a valley surrounded by the Andes and several other mountain ranges, so in the winter the air can become quite smoggy.  But we checked the website on Sunday night and we were good to go.  

A major port city, it quickly rises from sea level to cover 47 hills, densly populated with colorful houses, jammed together in a hodgepodge of architecture and winding streets.  There are about 9 functioning Ascensors that move people up to the various hills.

We took just one (we thought they were free, but were not...so we figured we had the experience) and enjoyed the view and another day of nice weather.

We also passed many staircases as well

In addition to the colorful houses, the city is covered with graffitti and murals

We ended up finding this restaurant - the oldest in the city which is a jazz club at night.  We enjoyed a peaceful lunch and a break from the noise of a very bustling and crowded city.

We then drove through Vina del Mar, a more ritzy city just north of Valparaiso, and where all of the elite families relocated after the 1906 earthquake.

Unlike this couple enjoying the coastal walk and the apporaching sunset in the Pacific, we couldn´t find a place to park, so had to enjoy it from the car window.

There are my Andes again, with the sunset reflecting off of them, as we approach Santiago.

After a long day, what a treat.  Their maid, who comes on Mondays, had set the table for us and made a pot of chicken soup.

I could get used to this!

More Than We Expected - Sunday, June 12, 2016

Sunday was all about the view. And walking. LOTS of walking!! Here is the evidence to prove it:

In case you can't read the fine print, that is a total of 10.62 miles and the equivalent of 24 flights up. It was a wonderful day,but a reminder to write down travel advice given to us after flying all night. Axel and Patricia advised us that we could hike or bike up to Cerro San Cristobal for a wonderful view. But apparently we recalled the amount of time it would take (1.5 hours) for the biking version. Jim pulled something in his back a few days before we left, so he figured he would be better off walking, so off we went.

Our walk started near the condo where a lovely park is centered in the median of the main thoroughfare. 

After a few blocks a footbridge took us over the river

to the entrance of Parque Metropolotano

The park is closed to cars on the weekends. Instead the roads are filled with bicyclists and pedestrians. 

It ended up being about a 2.5 hour walk to the top, but the views along the way were well worth it. 

At the top of the hill is the statue of the Virgin Mary - it is said that she protects Santiago.

Many candles and trinkets are left beneath her in memoriam.

The area around the statue was surrounded by an art installation of paintered crosses.

Since our walk had been more of a long hike, we decided to take the lazy way down, knowing that it would put us in city center and we hadn't taken along our instructions about which subway and bus to take home.  But that is what makes this an adventure!

Once at the bottom we figured there was time to visit the Museo Bellas Artes.

Our destination was at the end of this lovely park, and we enjoyed the view of the gargoyle peaking his head over the top of this building.

The museum is a gorgeous structure, and the oldest art museum in South Americal.  Originally established in 1880, it moved to the current location 1910 when it opened as part of the Centennial celebration of Chile.  It's facade is a replica of the Petite Palais in Paris which we also enjoyed on our last visit there.

There was an interesting installation in memory of the 2010 earthquake - all of the pieces were made from the rubble of one house that was destroyed.

It was getting dark, so we knew we needed to tackle finding our way home.  We were so pleased with ourselves as we easily found a subway station on the correct line!  Unfortunately, we had an incorrect memory of what station to go to.  So we came up to the street level, not recognizing anything around us!  We wandered around trying to navigate our way to something familiar via our gps-google maps.  A beacon of hope came to us in the form of a Starbucks with their reliable free WiFi.  We google mapped our route which was about another 30 minute walk.

These little moments (and the tired feet to go with them) are just part of the adventure!

Plane Delirium

A contribution from Jim, written on the flight here:

Plane Delirium

Once again I find myself in a winged, composite tube hurtling through space and unable to sleep.  Random, barely noted thoughts that normally skedaddle (yes, I am bringing this word back) out of consciousness now take the forefront.  As the saying goes, “ The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”  The step(s) to this journey, I must admit were mainly Lisa’s.  She takes on, much to her dismay, the organizing features of these trips.  I simply go along for the ride.  So our “journeys” are slightly different or at least the beginning steps are.  I have long abandoned any pretense of organizational ability…the reality is I am just plumb-tuckered out.  For too many years I have painfully struggled with trying to maintain some semblance of productive focus……wait, what was I saying?...oh yeah, The thing is, we are all called upon to tap  into our less-developed selves in order to bring balance and harmony into our lives.  I’m thinking that balance and harmony are not all they are cracked up to be, especially if it is at the expense of vitality and in the momentness.  Sometimes…just sometimes it feels like the trade-off is unfavorable.  Yet here I am, 36,000 feet over ‘merica headed to what promises to be another life-affirming if not life-changing adventure.  This didn’t just happen.  I am the beneficiary of extraordinary pre-flight planning: everything from poring over the confusing array of flight options, to prepping the house to receive our trade guests, to communicating over email and Skype (I reluctantly make an appearance), creating to-do lists that never get read by me until the last minute, reading travel books, scoping out sight-seeing options.  It’s a lot of work, and I do what I can, well maybe as little as I can.  The truth is, and I hate to play the age card, I’ve come as far as I can in the realm of sustained attention and organization, which, to my great credit, is quite far.  I have had the best mentor possible, someone who accepts me, cuts me a lot of slack even if it means taking on a greater share of the burden, rarely letting the frustration of it all deteriorate into anger.  I suppose I could dip into my stash of adderall, which sits in a drawer unused, in an attempt to level the playing field but I think, I’d rather just embrace who I am and hope that I’m worth taking this journey with despite the drawbacks.  Once we land, I’m 110 percent present.

Once we land…that cannot happen soon enough.  Right now I am compartmentalized into a sub-human seating, deep in the bowels of economy class.  Much like my forefathers shackled on the good ship Amistad, oh wait…I’m not black, nonetheless, it’s just as uncomfortable I’m sure.  My back hurts from an ill-advised set of overhead squats; there is no space in the seat pocket for my laptop or the three magazines I bought at Hudson Bay. I’m trying to eat my chicken salad while balancing said magazines on my lap.  I miss magazines.  Getting news and porn on the web is all well and good but, I’m an old-fashioned boy and I still derive pleasure from the simple ways, much like my Pennsylvanian forefathers, oh wait...I’m not Amish, nonetheless, I harken back to what I still think of as my greatest find: a pile of Playboys discovered while dumpster-diving with my childhood friend Gilbert.  It was a twelve-year-old’s treasure trove, a soft-pornucopia of womanly delights.  We poured over every page trying to discern, dare I say, decipher the secrets of womanhood that hid behind the strategically placed fern, string of pearls or modestly bent knee. Inspiration comes in many forms and to us, those magazines were inspirational if not aspirational.  Now I’m picking food bits off of Zack Efron’s crotch on the cover of Men’s Fitness and with all due respect to Mr. Efron’s considerable charm he’s no Candy Fontaine or Eva LaCross.  Magazines, along with flying, have lost their allure.  Accessibility, unfortunately, can often lead to indifference. Constant stimulation, unimpeded access is registered by our brains as unimportant, to the point that the brain erases it from our awareness.  Fighting for access however, whether dumpster-diving or trip-planning, creates excitement and, yes, focus. Although it may be too late in planning for this trip, I am not ready to give up my struggle to find focus.  The loss of access would be too great and my world, rather than expanding would become as limited as the seat of this plane.