Santiago de Chile, part 9: In which I finally get some lunch.

After thoroughly absorbing all the beautiful sights of the 1970s yarn shops I continued in a southerly direction, stopping as necessary to take photos of the delightful historic fountains and churches and so on.

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Old men sit in the shade of the trees and play chess, and who can blame them. I wish I were there now. London is freezing cold and raining as usual.

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The National Museum of Santiago.

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Look at that church. I am no special friend of Jesus but you can’t argue with the architecture.

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A clothes shop. I know. All clothes shops should look like this.

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Just when you think it’s all about history, you rock up at Bellas Artes metro station and encounter these:

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Look at those colours. The whole city is like this. The sunlight and the colours are something to behold.

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The most excellent walking tour that I was following advised me that I could stop at this point if desired. However, the previous day I had tried and failed to find the museum of contemporary art, so I pressed on. When I eventually found it I had been walking around for about four hours, I was exhausted and ravenously hungry, so once I realised I was in the right general area, instead of charging directly into the museum which had become the final point of my personal quest, I headed for the nearest cafe and had a huge burger and more beer than was strictly necessary. That kind of behaviour is why I’m five pounds heavier than I used to be.

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And with that, fed and rested, I ambled away, slightly drunkenly, in the direction of the museum of contemporary art, my personal holy grail.

 

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