Saturday, June 24, 2006
The Wrong Tour
After our tour to the south we had a few days left in Santiago before our flight to Rio de Janeiro. So we decided to venture further out of the city to 2 places called Valparaiso and Vina del Mar. We pondered going there ourselves but then after asking the advice of the hostel staff we decide to take a cheap day trip with a tour company.
On the morning of our trip we get picked up from the door by a shuttle bus. We are told that we will be picking up a few more people from their "accommodation" then we will meet the other shuttle buses doing the same thing at the Sheraton hotel and get sorted into our groups. As soon as the bus pulls into the first "accommodation" we realise we may have made a huge mistake choosing this company. It pulls into a grand hotel in the city and on climbs a mixture of posh and old people. They don't acknowledge hostel scum (which is probably why the bus picked us up first.) Still, we hold out hope that when the other buses meet at the Sheraton we will get a better mix of poeple. However, it is actually in the car park that we meet the other buses and there is no real change on the group front.
Christian, our guide, passes round a register on which we have to put our name, date of birth, nationality etc. As we are the last to sign (having hidden at the back of the bus) we frantically scan the dates of birth of our ten fellow tour companions. The oldest person, though not by far, is ...71(!) and the youngest person is...ME! We realise that we´re on the wrong bus and that we have 10 hours of this to endure.
Anyhow, our companions are spanish, australian, brazilian, puerto rican and us brits. Apart from the old couples and the ample bottomed Puerto Rican lady (photographed above) who needed helping off the bus each time, my favourite people had to be the Brazilian couple. They had come matching. The husband sported a chocolate brown leather jacket, (probably not purchased from Matalan) tailored trousers and beige leather shoes. The wife wore an equally expensive beige leather coat, beige leather boots complete with cuban heel and to top off the whole outfit a black suede hat with a beige stripe running through it. We can't think why they didn't acknowledge us when we got on the bus resplendent in our slightly stained/off coloured clothes that clash.
After much faffing the tour begins in the usual style. Guide stands at the front holding the microphone and begins to speak but nothing comes out...then it does...then it doesn't. Finally he gets the microphone to work (by the highly advanced method that is pulling out the lead then pushing it back in) and the next half an hour is filled with Christian, in Spanish then in English, explaining what the day will involve. He has to repeat this several times for the hard of hearing on the bus. One positive thing is the bus itself. The seats are more like armchairs and when Christian finally finishes ranting we join the oldies and indulge in a bit of snoozing, despite having been asleep only 2 hours earlier. I was asleep before he had finished and found the intermittent commentary about Avocado growing particularly disruptive to good snoozing.
The first stop is Pablo Neruda's house, the Chilean version of Shakespeare. We are allowed 40 minutes here exactly to look around. Having been denied a toilet stop at the Sheraton hotel I race to the ladies but find it is already occupied by someone who has the remnants of a cold and who is making a horrendous hocking noise at the back of her throat. The loo flushes, the door opens and lo and behold out walks the posh hat wearing brazilian! Money clearly doesn't buy you manners. The house was interesting though despite being crammed with school children. (I think Chilean schools have a problem with behaviour management too!) On the fourth floor, one of the old dears turns to me and says "Well that Pablo must have been one hell of a fit guy to climb all these stairs!" I honestly hadn't noticed the amount of stairs but she clearly expected me to agree with her; I am offended.
Next stop is the main square for a 5 minute photo stop. Only those under the age of 40 appeared to get off. Christian then suggests that we take one of the famous funiculars up to a viewing point. Rhod and I nod furiously and give it the thumbs up but there is speculation amongst the oldies. "Is it safe?" "Is there much walking to do at the top?" The majority agrees in the end but the rather large lady refuses and stays at the bottom (no pun intended.) I am quite relieved as the old wooden funicular turns out to be a death trap and the floorboards creaked already without any added pressure.
Then it's time for lunch. The optional lunch turns out to be compulsory. Christian recommended the 3 course menu for 10 pounds. Fine, I hear you say but in a country where you can eat very well for 3 pounds we had some reservations. He tells us that the restaurant is the only one in the area and that it is "dangerous" to go elsewhere. We are fuming. It's a fish restaurant overlooking the port. Very nice but not necessary. We'd be quite happy with a sandwich. So begrudgingly we order the cheapest dish each and one drink and leave, "dangerous" or not. We wander around and find several cafes that would have been fine. We make it back to the coach alive much to Christian's surprise and drive to Vina del Mar a seaside town 8km away.
We're given a generous 25 minutes break this time. The posh brazilians head to the casino. The oldies head to the nearest cafe. We walk to the beach narrowly avoiding some tarot card readers. When we meet back up we have to endure the cheesiest photo opportunity yet. At the entrance to Vina del Mar there is a flower clock and the old dears are all having their picture taken by it. We go to take a token photo and Christian literally grabs the camera from Rhod and tells us to go and pose by it. Hence the photo above. Then we have 15 minutes to take yet more photos, of a statue this time, and visit a lapislazuli stone shop with no intention of buying but lots of pondering looks and fake nodding in admiration. Posh Brazilians of course get the credit card out and make several purchases.
Finally it's time to head back to Santiago and I'm quite relieved as it's all been a little bit stressful and I'm in need of a siesta. However, Christian wants money from us and evaluation forms filled in. I fall asleep inbetween signing for payment and being given back my credit card! We sleep well all the way back and aren't sorry to leave our companions. I'm pretty sure they aren't fussed to see us go either.
All in all we saw and learnt lots but next time we'll be more careful about the tour group we choose.
# posted by Rhodri @ 9:47 pm 
