Santiago

Hola Santiago! After a two hour delay in Toronto – unrelated to weather or general Air Canada indifference (of which there was no shortage) – we saw our first glimpses of Chile. As the plane descended from the clouds on approach, Truus slid open her window shade and pointed to this wondrous sight. Snow-capped enormous peaks at the horizon, and rolling red foothills leading to the ocean. Here and there a narrow ribbon of green and a small village neatly tucked into a fold of rock, with just enough earth to support a human existence. I admire the Chileans already!

One of the longest flights of my life. We didn’t get much rest, other than sleeping through the lovely and timely 1am chicken surprise dinner. Tough to complain, though, when the woman sitting next to me was a 95 year old woman with rheumatoid arthritis who was stopping off in Santiago on her way to Easter Island. She was a fearless soul – couldn’t open up the plastic wrapping on her in-flight snack without assistance, but unbowed and undeterred in life.

I mentioned our plan to study Spanish in Santiago. She was not impressed. “My husband always said, ‘The only way to learn a language is to sleep with someone who speaks it fluently.’ “Well”, I said, “that is how I learned Dutch”. My seat ate then spent the next hour trying to convince us to continue south and visit Antarctica. “Maybe next time “, I replied. She was not impressed with my absence of The Right Stuff.