Santiago de Noche
Piscola and TariTA
Eight hours on bus, after I had double-checked that it would only be 5 1/2, and Brett was still miraculously waiting for me at the station. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in all my life. He waited for 2 1/2 hours. Big, big hugs and bigger smiles.
We made it to Giuseppe (our host)’s house, dropped my stuff, went out for a walk. I finally bought two of the four things I wished I’d packed–a cardigan and a scarf. (The other two would be my pocket alarm and my camera battery charger. Ah, well). Then we ate dinner, plus a bottle of wine, at an Italian place. So far, Chile is cheaper than Argentina, and I’m okay with that.
I was feeling pretty groggy after the wine and wanted to just stay home and turn in early, but Giuseppe Sr. made me a pisco sour (the national drink, more or less), and I rallied by (inexpertly) taking pulls off of Brett’s cigarette. Then we went with Giuseppe to a planning party/drinking fest at his friend’s house with a bunch of members of Rotaract (like JV Rotary Club).
We drank piscola (the JV national drink, and much better than Spain’s calimocho), danced, talked, and played drinking games until the host’s mom came home and bade us goodbye. Then it was: giggling on a public bus, late night french fries, and a good, long sleep in a bed while Brett snored.
It’s good to be with friends in a welcoming country.