The 'Sassy Princess'....

We arrived in Santiago on Friday (February 25) in the afternoon, after a seven hour bus ride through the Andes! It was amazing. So incredibly beautiful, I almost couldn't believe it.

Well, the parts I saw were beautiful.

I have always had a wee problem with staying awake in moving buses (first year university I had an extra two hours of sleep every day, on account of the bus commute...), and unfortunately after not going bed until extremely late two nights in a row before we left Mendoza did not bode well for me. I am pretty sure that I saw the most important parts of it. It was definitely a slow, uncomfortable ride, mostly because we were squished in a small mini bus/van, instead of the big fancy buses, but the beautiful mountains more than made up for it.

When we crossed the border into Chile we had to go through both Argentine and Chilean customs, which is pretty standard. What is not standard, however, is the process we had to go through to get our luggage into the county. As in Canada, upon entering Chile you have to fill out a form for customs, declaring whether or not you have any fruits or vegetables, and a long list of other products. We did not have anything that was specifically on the list, though we had found peanut butter in Iguazu (which is a little bit like gold here), and I was really not interested in losing it. Anyways, after returning from the bathroom there were three bags that the customs officers were looking at, and of course two of them were ours. I am not really sure if they were trying to intimidate us, they selected our bags randomly, or if they were just thinking our giant backpacks were a bit ridiculous and they wanted to have some fun with us. They made J actually open her bag, and start pulling things out (better hers than mine! She has one big pocket with a zipper, and her bag isn't stuffed. Mine is two separate pockets and is always stuffed to the brim. One wrong movement and it is all over, and I would almost have to start from scratch all over again). After asking us seventeen times if we had dried fruit (I was concerned that one might have gotten in there, making a liar out of me, I was eating a lot of raisins the previous week). They eventually got bored of us, they sent our bags through the scanners a bunch of times, and I blurted out every food I could think of stuffed in my bag, including the beloved peanut butter, the olives from our lovely tour (I also did not want to part with them, but I wanted to go to a Chilean jail much less...because that is clearly what happens when you incorrectly declare things??), and packets of jam stolen from random hostel breakfasts. Apparently none of that was offensive to Chile, so we were in the clear, and we were allowed to enter their beautiful country.

Thank goodness.

We arrived in Santiago, and by the time we got all our stuff off the bus and figured out the exchange rate (only after I had paid the equivalent of about $7 Canadian in bank fees to withdraw $8000 Chilean pesos. Approximately $16 Canadian. I always have a period of extreme confusion when the currency changes...), and found a taxi, we were both so ready to get to the hostel. We had booked one online out of the guide book, so we gave the address and we arrrive at what is definitely NOT a hostel. We are told by the woman at the address, and various people on the street (who were extremely eager to help us) that the hostel that had been there is no longer in existence. The kind taxi driver took us to another hostel in the neighbourhood. They were booked but they were nice enough to contact another hostel in the neighourhood for us and gave us directions to walk there. We arrived at a large purple monstrosity, with no sign on the front and were feeling slightly apprehensive. The old man who was washing cars on the street assured us that this was the hostel.We were greeted at the door by a Chilean dude who was also extremely helpful, and gave us all kinds of tips. He informed us the hostel is called the 'Princesa Insolente', which in English means the 'Sassy Princess'. He also gave us his business card which identified his name, and title, which was 'Latin Lover Host'.

Oh dear.

The best thing was that we soon figured out that this is actually the hostel we had made the reservation with, it was just a new name and address because the old one had suffered extensive damage in the earthquake last year, it had relocated and opened with a new name. So, we didn't lose our deposit, and now we are staying in the world's most beautiful hostel. No jokes. Everything is pink and purple and animal print with some Asian inspired decorations. I pretty much want whoever is responsible for this to come and decorate the home I don't have....

The best thing about it is the kitchen. They have every appliance you could ever want, including a blender, sandwhich maker, toaster, and probably others I can't remember. Tonight for dinner I made a peanut butter banana wrap and then put it in the sandwhich maker. If you have never done this before, stop reading right now and go do it.

DO. IT.

It is so delicious, it was all I could do not to eat eight of them. The kitchen also has a stock of oil and all kinds of spices for us to use. This NEVER happens at hostels. What usually happens is that we buy oil, and then people steal it. Its awesome.

Oh, and I almost forgot about the beds. Which are like real, at home beds. With duvets! I have had a nap every day we are here. For two reasons, one, I think I am getting sick, and two, because it is a delight. The last hostel we stayed at I was scared to touch the beds, so this is a welcome change.

I know traveling isn't supposed to be about where you stay, but sometimes, that is what makes the difference (well, that and the people you meet, of course). It has provided us with a place that felt temporarily like home, which was welcome because the last two hostels we stayed at bombed (anyone headed to Iguazu Falls do not stay at Marco Polo Inn, and those headed for Mendoza, avoid Mendoza Inn). Two nights ago there was a 'tequila night' here, which was quite fun, and ended in debauchery (for some, but not for us). There was even a professional CFL football player here (which we were able to confirm...). It was all a bit crazy.

Anyways, that was terribly disjointed. I was feeling a bit like I needed to gush a litte. We are leaving Santiago tomorrow to go to Valparaiso, a beach town two hours north of Santiago, and I am feeling a little sad. Yeah, I liked Santiago (for real, its beautiful, and clean and the mountains are RIGHT THERE all the time, and today we went on another vineyard tour), but I am most sad to leave the nice kitchen and the comfy bed. But, if I was that concerned about comfy beds and well stocked kitchens, I could have stayed in Canada for a lot cheaper.
Over and out. Valparaiso, get ready. We hear the hostel we are staying at has delicious homemade brown bread and goat cheese for breakfast, so we are really excited about that.

Its the small things, really.