Labor Unrest Thwarts the Other Part of Today's Santiago de Chile Plan

At Santiago's Plaza de Armas, new and old co-exist
like the religions of the world on a left-wing bumpersticker

I knew not when this afternoon energy burst would dissipate, so I decided after climbing Cerro Santa Lucia, and it being too early for my room to be dependably ready, I decided to walk a few blocks over to the Plaza de Armas and, perhaps, take in a museum.

It's a short walk past interesting-looking buildings, only some of which I am able to attach a name. Por ejemplo, this is the Basilica de la Merced:

And before I know it, I've arrived at my destination:

Plaza de Armas.

There's always something happening in any Latin American city's Plaza de Armas. Por ejemplo: a man on a horse.

This is El Monumento a Pedro de Valdivia. He sits astride a horse that is transitioning from stallion to mare.

For some reason, and I hope I never find out, the horse's -- ummm -- masculine feature? -- is noticeably gone. Only some jagged white plaster where the horse's pride once was. Usually on these bronze equestrian statutes, the horse's most masculine feature has been "rubbed" to a shiny bright gold. For good luck, they always saw. Yeah, I buy that one. So, perhaps someone, at some point, was a little desperate for luck to swing his or her way and -- poof! -- the stallion transitioned to a mare. Clearly the Old Bronze Horse ain't what he used to be. But, say what you will, Pedro de Valdivia is taking it in stride. Literally.

And what do I spy here:

 

A map of Old Santiago! Embedded in sidewalk. Y'know, more towns could follow this example and embed old maps into sidewalks. I can't be the only map nerd tourist out there.

Which sight to see. Which site to visit next? The Catedral Metropolitana de Santiago de Chile?

El Museo Histórico Nacional? The National History Museum?

Or the Old Post Office building? CorreosChile Plaza de Armas?

CorreosChile Plaza de Armas: I will visit you tomorrow and I will visit in my capacity as one in need in postal services.

I can't find the entrance to the national museum, so it looks like Catedral Metropolitana de Santiago de Chile.

One word, however, before I enter the cathedral: power-washing.

Santiago is a very clean city. And the fact that people are out power-washing the Plaza de Armas is one of the reasons why.

The cathedral is beautiful. Not "knock my socks off' beautiful. Sock are still on. But beautiful nonetheless.

A service was going on, so I couldn't mosey around the joint playing shutterbug. But I did snap a photo of St. Michael the Archangel, looking particularly martial.

The building looks bigger on the outside:

Maybe there is a lot of territory inside that us members of the General Public cannot enter.

Speaking of not being able to enter, I entered the Tourist Information location next door to the national museum and found out why I couldn't find the entrance.

The employees of all the public museums in Santiago are on strike. The strike could last a day, It could last several months. All I know is that I will not be visiting the national museum this visit to Santiago.

The national museum is closed due to labor unrest, but if anything should be causing unrest, it would be this:

Monumento al Pueblo Indígena. Yes. Nothing says I support indigenous peoples of my native land quite like modern art. I know this is symbolic of something, in some way, but I will take a hard pass on finding out.

So, speaking of native indigenous peoples, one of the non-governmental museums I had considered visiting in Santiago was the Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino, the Chilean Museum of Pre-Columbian Art.

In the Latin American countries I've visited so far, they refer to what we in the U.S. of A. call "pre-Columbian" as "pre-hispanic," which, come to think about it, is more descriptive. But Chilenos use the term "pre-Columbian" and I'm going local on this.

But before I go in, I'm going to walk down the street, the street being Compañía de Jesús. And, here it is: the Chilean Supreme Court:

Or, more specifically, El Palacio de los Tribunales de Justicia.

Celebrating 200 years!

Circling back to the open museum unhampered by labor unrest:

And I spy a map, placing very indigenous peoples of the Americas in their proper geographic locales.

I am greeted by a distinctly non-Chilean statute:

This fellow is from the San Agustin region of Southern Colombia.

This one looks shockingly modern:

This I recognized as a stela from Mayan country.

This came from Southern Mexico.

And this one just looks plain grumpy:

There was a textiles area. Generally, I'm not interested in textiles, but I would like this one as a rug:

And this is a representation of a llama:

A llama on a pillow. Not normally where llamas are found. But artistic license and all that.

And this is one fat dog.

How fat?

Almost Botero-esque, although the recently-deceased Fernando Botero is most definitely not "pre-Columbian."

This one looked like something drugged out from the 1960s.

Again, I like it. Again, not "pre-Columbian," if that were what this was.

This one struck me as bizarre.

It's from over 2000 years ago. Olmec, from Mexico, possibly. And yet it looks decidedly, almost stereotypically East Asian. How? How did this happen?

And while this piece doesn't traffic in Asian stereotypes, again, the style is strikingly Chinese.

Was there some sort of trans-Pacific Chinese / Indigenous American contact B.C.?

And, finally, we will end our museum tour with this:

Because, after that, what can you say?

Still not picking up on the indigenous vibe on that.

But I do want to pick up the vibe on some local cuisine:

This is the completo. Actually it is two completos. And what is a completo? A giant humongous dollop of mayonnaise, with a generic hot dog underneath. Tasted like Oscar Meyer, not something upscale like Hebrew National. But how could you taste anything under that much mayo? There are some chopped tomatoes and onions (sort of like a mildly spiced pico de gallo) nestled in the bun. The "completo" in the lower half of the picture is topped with pepper sauce. Which actually does make this delicious. With this much mayonnaise, you do not have to worry about overdoing it on the heat.

It was not nearly as mayonnaise-y as you would expect.

Room is ready. 

It's a great room. Clean and quiet. Much larger than a typical hotel room anywhere else in the world other than the United States. But I'm glad I'm not staying with someone. That shower right out in the middle of the room would weird me out.

Let's take an evening stroll through Lasterria:

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And above is the destination for my evening stroll: Emporio La Rosa. Reputedly the best ice cream in Santiago.

They did have a nice selection of flavors.

I went with a three-scoop variety pack. 

One scoop of Lucumba, known in English by the unappetizing name of the "eggfruit." I'll stick with the Spanish on that one. One scoop of Naranja y Jengibre, Orange and Ginger, which was not ginger-y enough for my palate. (Truth be told: rarely is anything "ginger enough" for my taste. I love the stuff. Can't get enough.) And the white on the right side? Rosa? Yes, Rose-flavored ice cream. It's their signature flavor, being in the name of the ice cream parlor and all. It tasted like rose or, more specifically rose water. It had too much of a floral flavor to work as ice cream. The star of the cup? No doubt. The Lucumba. It was awesome. Great flavor. Creamy texture. A winner.

Arrival in Chile: Room Not Ready: Climb Cerro Santa Lucia

Midway on the climb up Cerro Santa Lucia

I arrived in Santiago de Chile at about 7:00 a.m.  Chile is officially Country #39 on my list of countries visited.

The flight was not as long as I expected, since Santiago is two time zones ahead of Atlanta (where I changed planes), even though it is due south of Atlanta. This means that it is five hours ahead of Las Vegas time this time of year. I asked for an early check-in, but 9:00 a.m. is a bit too early to check in. Finally, at about 11:30 a.m. Santiago time, it was feeling like a reasonable hour to get out and get walking Las Vegas time.

That is my hotel: the Hotel Cumbres Lastarria. I believe "Cumbres" is the hotel chain. "Lastarria" is the neighborhood in Santiago. I believe you know what "Hotel" stands for.

Lastarria is a quiet residential and restaurant neighborhood, on the eastern edge of the Central Historical District (and well to the west of the financial district).

In the late morning it's quiet. It will get busier (but not louder) (Chilenos are not a loud people) when late afternoon hits.

It's a great location. Walking distance to most sights within Santiago us turistas americanos want to see. Good restaurants for when your feet can take no more walking.

But I had a long Monday that bled into Tuesday traveling from Las Vegas to deep into the heart of the Southern Hemisphere. I was ready to walk.

At the northern end of the park that is Cerro Santa Lucia is this fountain: Neptuno y Anfitrite. Neptuno is Neptune. That's an easy translation. But who is Anfitrite? I'm not much up on the second and third tier of Roman gods. I had to look her up. Anfitrite (English: Amphitrite) (that doesn't help) is the goddess of the sea.

So the hanging out with Neptune/Poseidon makes sense, even if she's Mimi Rogers to Neptune's Tom Cruise.

Time to climb.

Speaking of climbing, I was expecting to get winded because I thought Santiago was a relatively high elevation. It's not. It's only 1,870 feet above sea level. It's lower than Las Vegas by a few hundred feet.

So I can't use "the thin air" as my excuse when I wear out later today. Fortunately, the fact that I only slept (fitfully) for an hour or two on the airplane is ready and available to trot out as my excuse when necessary.

This is a fountain.

It may have name. You won't learn it here.

This is Castilo Hidalgo, the main landmark (other than the viewpoint) in the Cerro Santa Lucia park.

Sometimes the climb is on a dirt path:

But usually it is on slick stone steps.

I would not want to walk this in the rain, especially not in the boat shoes I was wearing because I always were boat shoes on long plane flights (easy off, easy back on).

This is the sepulcher of Benjamín Vicuña Mackenna.

I don't know why he shares a name with the camelid that produces the most expensive wool known to man: the vicuña.

Still in the neighborhood of the sepulcher, and we come to this:

The first selfie posted on this trip.

The views get better as you climb higher.  This is Cerro San Cristóbal, which is a higher hill in Santiago. It's a mile or two away. Spoiler alert: please note the funicular going up the side of Cerro San Cristóbal. That's on tomorrow's agenda.

And finally I arrive at the top of Cerro San Lucia.

It's crowded. Of course, it is fast becoming a beautiful spring afternoon in November in Santiago de Chile.

And from this side you can see the tallest building in all of South America:

The Costanera Center. It's foggy/smoggy now, but the fog will burn off as the afternoon wears on. I have heard that Chile is truly the California of South America, what with wine, and earthquakes, and delicious fruits and vegetables, and with deserts, mountains, and beaches all in close proximity. The fog here behaves like California fog. Cold in the morning. Gone in the afternoon.

Time to descend. There's more Santiago to see before my room is ready.

In Memoriam: Fernando Botero

I just learned that one of my absolute favorite artists just died: Colombian artist Fernando Botero. He is best known for his sculptures, but he also was a prolific at producing paintings and drawings. His signature was that the subjects of his art were depicted as fat. Very fat. Corpulent. Obese. You have heard of Flemish painter Rubens and his "Rubenesque" models. They are almost anorexic compared to Botero's. He died this morning at the age of 91.

Right before he died, would have been my favorite living artist. He's now ineligible for the status of my "favorite living artist" due to recent circumstances beyond both of ours control. In his honor, here is a tour of just a few of the works of Sr. Botero I have seen during my travels.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. The best place on earth to see the work of Botero.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. A horse is a horse of course unless of course the horse is as fat as a Botero horse.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. Pity the pony that has to support that weight.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. It's a nude fatty faceoff. A perfect place for a family-friendly photo session.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. This is, truly, a fat cat. Except it's a dog. "Perro," not "Gato." Should have been my clue.

Plaza Botero. Medellin, Colombia. September 16, 2012. Seductive. Perhaps inspired by Lady Godiva?

Museo Botero. Bogotá, Colombia. September 7, 2012. A Botero still life. Even his fruits and vegetables are fat. Even his cutlery is fat!

Museo Botero. Bogotá, Colombia. September 7, 2012. Perhaps my favorite of all of Botero's two dimensional works: the fattest crucifixion scene you will ever see.

Museo Botero. Bogotá, Colombia. September 7, 2012. Even his nuns!

Somewhere in Ljubljana, Slovenia. September 15, 2014. I was walking in Ljubljana -- something I very highly recommend as it is a great city -- and I saw this fountain with its fat figures and I thought: "Those have to be Boteros." When I got back to the hotel, I looked it up. Of course they were.

What else could they be?

Museo Soumaya. Mexico City. December 12, 2021. Again, I see a fat sculpture. I think: "Must be a Botero." Check the tag. Sure 'nuff.

And I will leave you with a picture of a much younger me, from 2012, at the entrance to the Museo Botero in Bogotá, Colombia.

I was in good hands with Botero.

There Were No Brillo Pad Boxes, Only Campbell Soup Cans

The grave of Andy Warhol, right in front of the grave of his parents.

If you happen to find yourself in the countryside outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, somewhere between Mt. Lebanon and Bethel Park, please pay your respects to the greatest American artist of the 20th Century: Andy Warhol.

I had a little spare time this afternoon visiting Western Pennsylvania and I decided to take a trip to somewhere I've wanted to visit for sometime: the grave of Andy Warhol. Andy is located in the St. John the Baptist Byzantine Catholic Cemetery somewhere in the confluence of Mt. Lebanon, Upper St. Clair, and Bethel Park. The grave is simple and would be easy to miss, even though the cemetery is somewhat small, except for the fact that gravesite is specifically pinpointed by google maps and, more importantly, festooned with Campbell's soup cans. No Brillo Pad boxes. No Marilyns or Maos or Jackie O's (or was she still Jackie K when Andy Warhol used her image for one of his multi-hued silk screens). Just soup.

In the future, everybody will visit the grave of Andy Warhol. For 15 minutes. I did not stay there for my full, alloted 15 minutes.