Before Columbus

I rise at 8. God, I was knacked yesterday. I still feel a bit wasted.

The kids troll along around 9 and we head upstairs for breakfast. Which is pretty nice. Croissants, cold cuts and made to order scrambled eggs.

“Do you want ham in it?”

“Yes, please.” I never refuse pork products.

Andrew eats almost nothing. Alexei gets stuck in in compensation.

A man comes in dressed like an Inca, completely wrapped in wool. And eats a breakfast that's a pile of oranges and one pear.

Our plan is simple: go to the pre-Columbian art museum, which is in the centre of town.

We're taking the metro, which is just a short walk away on the main drag, On a massive stroad. It's a bit chilly - around 8 degrees. Everyone is well wrapped up. I'm glad I've put my long kecks on.

It's just as well I got some cash out yesterday. You can’t pay for the metro by card. I wondered why there are ATMs next to all the ticket machines. We get one card, which is good for all three of us.

We've just missed a metro, but another is along in a couple of minutes. Riding on rubber tyres, like some of the ones in Paris.

Neither of the kids can stand up straight inside the train. It’s noticeable how much taller they are than anyone else. At least I’m not likely to lose them in the crowd.

“What do you think of the trains, Andrew?”

“The rubber tyres are bullshit. Just to benefit Michelin. No sensible reason.”

“Isn’t it for a smoother ride?”

“No, Total bullshit.”

I’ll take his word for it.

It’s only a few minutes’ walk from the metro to the museum. But it’s enough to get an impression of the city.

Which is impressive. A mix of colonial-style buildings, early skyscrapers and modern shit. And pretty busy. Shoppers, office staff, workers mending the street. A proper city centre.

The museum is in an old palace, which was once home to the royal customs. Presumably in the days of Spanish rule.

Groups of schoolkids swarm inside. Between exhibits not just from Chile, but the whole of Latin America. There's some impressive Mayan sculpture. Amongst loads of ceramics and metal objects.

We spend almost two hours wandering around. After which my legs are really aching.

"What now, kids?"

"Let's find a pub and get something to eat." Alexei suggests.

That’s what I was hoping Alexei was going to say. Andrew is always up for a drink. At least when he’s conscious. Though he can live for days on minimal food.

Alexei finds a place called Tavern Rock that isn't far away. So that's where we go. We almost walk past it, but I spot a sign advertising IPA and other craft beer. That’s a good sign.

We take seats and try to order. The waitress who approaches us speaks no English and goes to fetch another one. Who has punky/goth look, dressed all in black. She’s very friendly. Though her English is only better in not being a total zero.

The kids get some lagery thing and I have an IPA.

It's quite chilly inside. Feeling a little cold, I put my coat back on. And notice no-one else has taken theirs off. They aren’t great on indoor heating here in Santiago.

There's a TV showing non-stop heavy metal videos. For which the other customers, mostly in their 50's, seem a little old. Then again, it is mostly stuff from the 1970s and 1980s. I keep forgetting it’s already the 2020s.  Where did all those intervening years go?

“Would you like to climb Mount Fuji, Dad?” Alexei asks.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“For obvious fucking reasons. Like age and not wanting to die on a fucking mountain.”

“If you weren’t old and scared, wouldn’t you want to climb it?”

“No. I probably wouldn’t be able to breathe at the top of it.”

“Well, apart from that?”

“Just leave it.”

After our first drink, it’s time for food. Trying to order is fun. As they don’t seem to have a printed menu. Or a virtual one. The waitress’s limited mastery of English doesn’t make the process any simpler. Alexei and I order something I gather to be typically Chilean.

Ribs and chips it turns out to be. It’s pretty good. The meat to bone ratio is way better than usual. Andrew nibbles a couple of Alexei's chips. That's better. He ate nothing yesterday. If you don’t count beer and rum.

Four middle-aged men come in and get a bottle of Jack Daniels to share. Which is what I'm now on. Them, rather strangely, not selling pisco.

“Just the one beer, Dad?” Alexei remarks.

“It’s too cold for beer. I need whiskey to warm me up.”

“There’s always an excuse.”

“I’m on holiday, I can do what the fuck I want.”

“You should really watch your swearing, Dad.”

“Fuck off.”

Eating done, we have another round, then head off for the metro back to our hotel.

We hang around in my room for a while watching Youtube. Since the rooms have no TV. It's been several decades since I last had a room without a TV.

Our evening destination is Cervezeria Intrinsical. Which is around the corner on Avenida Brasil. One of the places I couldn’t find on the first day here. But first we go to the supermarket to stock up on crisps and rum. Wouldn’t want to forget to do that.

The entrance to the brewery has a chain across it. Which is a bit odd. But they let us in. I wonder who they’re trying to keep out?

Again, it's not very warm. Everyone is wearing their coats. There's a tiny electric heater which is totally not up to the job of heating the room. It’s only big enough to warm up a small wardrobe. At best. Maybe a large drawer.

The kids get some lagery thing, while I have a gin and tonic.

“Still not drinking beer, Dad.” Andrew taunts.

“I just feel like a gin and tonic. I had a beer earlier, anyway.”

“You are supposed to be a beer writer. How can you not drink beer in a brewery?”

“Can’t I have one fucking day off.?”

“It’s more than one day. You had caipirinhas in Mad Brew, too.”

“I’m on holiday.”

“A true professional is never ‘on holiday””.

“Just shut the fuck up and remember who’s paying for your beer.”

The waiter tells us that we have to order food after the first round. As they have a restaurant licence. Which is a bit odd for a brewery. It’s OK by us, as we're planning on eating, anyway. Eating being something I try to do every day. Unlike Andrew.

Alexei gets a meat sandwich and chips. While Andrew goes crazy and orders a hot dog.

The waiter brings us samples of a new beer. An American Barley Wine. Which is pretty nice. My sort of beer.

“There. I’ve drunk some beer. Happy now?”

“You only drank it because you were given in.”

“Still counts, though.”

The brewhouse is close to where we're sitting. behind a glass door. It looks pretty cramped.

We only have a couple of rounds. Then trudge back to our hotel. Where we drink beer and rum and watch Internet Today. Before turning in again around 11.

I sleep after some medicinal Havana Club.



Taberna Rock
Compañía de Jesús 1385,
8340349 Santiago,
Región Metropolitana.


Cervecería Intrinsical
Av. Brasil 88,
8340554 Santiago,
Región Metropolitana.
https://www.intrinsical.cl/