Day One
We arrived in Santiago on Saturday morning, with no idea of the previous evening's trouble until spotting headlines of metro stations ablaze across the newspapers.
Plaza de Armas & the shopping areas seemed to be business as usual, but by lunchtime we could hear the clanging of pots in the distance. With a change of atmosphere and seeing Army barricades already in place along some roads we decided to slowly make our way back to the hotel. A few moments later we encountered fires being lit in the street; buses trying to turn around whilst troops jumped out of a minibus. As armoured military vehicles rushed towards a distant crowd, rocks were thrown by protesters making their way towards the action.
A wander through a bohemian area just a few streets away, all seemed calm with people enjoying lunch in the cafes and street sellers hoping someone would buy. We stopped for a drink but it wasn't long before masked protesters were making their way through. The owner of the restaurant we were in quickly decided to bring in any remaining furniture as passers by began covering their noses. The street sellers soon realising nobody else would be purchasing today.
Checking the traffic map online, many of the roads around us were now closed. We knew it was best to now head towards our hotel a few KM away, as roads quickly begun filling with fires and traffic trying to find a way through jams and blockages.
We came across the burnt out bus that had been splashed across newspapers earlier that day, surrounded by 100s of protesters, perhaps many of them students, as new fuel was found to keep a fire going. As acrid black smoke billowed in to the sky, a group smashed traffic lights to the ground and what was relatively calm moments before, turned quickly as something was let off and some people began running away.Sirens, horns and the clanging from pots filled the air. Yet in the small park we walked though, locals were still enjoying the warm sunshine after a cool morning.
As we reached the trickling Mapocho River, to cross a bridge we encountered a standoff between protesters occasionally throwing objects at the waiting army vehicles on the other side of a previously busy road. Shortly the military had seen enough and used water cannon & tear gas on the group. Even from a distance, the tear gas stung our eyes and throats as we retreated to find another way back.
The roads became increasingly empty of cars, with a few taking the opportunity to protest from the back of their pick-up vehicles as they noisily drove around the areas not closed to traffic.
Little residential roads were an oasis of calm, runners and dog walkers still enjoying the meandering footpath along the river bank.
As we headed further out of the city centre, we walked against a tide of 1000s of people calmly heading to witness and perhaps join in what was happening. A few small pockets of noisy groups at intersections later, we were back to the tranquility of a side street where our hotel and a few bars and restaurants are.
We found a restaurant still serving before a blanket 17:00 shutdown by order of the Mayor. As we ate, nothing seemed out of the ordinary apart from the TV screens showing a train engulfed by fire at the station. People enjoying a drink in the bar opposite before it closed as army helicopters thudded overhead. We've no plans to head back in to the city centre and will spend a couple of days relaxing before our next flight it scheduled to take us to the very southern tip of Chile.
Despite the Mayor cancelling the Metro fare rises which sparked the protests and being criticised for dining out on Saturday evening, it seems like Chileans had more to say than anger at an increase in travel fares alone. Whatever happens, the clean-up operation will be costly.
Already the sounds of sirens are being heard on an early Sunday morning.
Day Two
Sunday morning and the streets are quiet. Runners, cyclists and dog walkers pass us by like any other sleepy start to a Sunday.
For something to do, we head to the Costanera Centre, purportedly the tallest building in South America, containing a large mall. The doors are locked and security guards stand at every entrance. We are not surprised.
The original plan was to take a gondola to a famous hill to the north of the city but from a distance we can see they are not running. Karen is feeling under the weather; We head back to the hotel and she rests while I incessantly check what's happening online. Things seem pretty quiet compared to Saturday but with no desire to head out alone, I stay put.
A couple of guys are sitting in the lounge. A travel writer from Canada with ties to Britain, living with his Norwegian partner are using Santiago as a base for a month long trip to see various parts of the country. We chat for a while and eventually Karen arrives so we venture out to find food.
As we walk a couple of blocks down, we see pockets of troops hanging around in the street; Young but armed. Looking as relaxed as is possible. Slightly further on a small gathering of people are clanging the now familiar sound of pots or any metal on metal they could find. The pizza restaurant we were recommended weren't taking any new customers. The streets somewhat ominously quiet, with Uber Eats cycles zipping past us we thought 'something must be open.' We were out of luck. The hotel tried a nearby restaurant for us and despite hurrying there, we couldn't get in. A curfew had been announced and staff were keen to be home before it began.
The other hotel guests with equal amounts of little to do, gathered in the lounge and walled courtyard garden. The hotel 'honesty' (we were) bar was open for business as usual. Eventually we convinced the staff to whip up some scrambled eggs and toast to settle rumbling stomachs.
Karen returned to bed feeling poorly.
As some of us sat in the garden until well after dark, conversations flowed between Brits, Aussies, Americans, Swedish and Norwegians. Despite our own stories, which probably wouldn't have been shared in better circumstances, we are all bystanders and witnesses to the passion of locals making themselves heard throughout Santiago and beyond. Some time after dark, we heard the clanging of the drums a little too close for comfort. Helicopters occasionally buzzing overhead.
Attention turning to what each other were going to do next but nobody really knows until it happens. Itineraries are as volatile as the streets. Some flights are delayed and many cancelled with many stuck at the airport. The excitement is already wearing a little thin, regardless of our understanding and appreciation of what the core protests were about. The less tolerable but inevitable side with looting, violence and trouble close enough but so far, mercifully still possible to avoid.
Our next flight is still currently scheduled for Tuesday morning. Fingers crossed!
Day Three
We are still fine.
Another curfew shortly. The military out in force a few blocks away. The constant thud of helicopters above.
Today we managed to get food. First proper meal apart from eggs, bread and cereal in two days.
We wait.
Day Four
A sense of normality in the outskirts of city with many more shops and restaurants open. People are carrying on as normal.
We don't yet know if there will be another curfew tonight. Often any protests begin late afternoon and being away from the main plazas, I don't have any more than the 24 hour news to see what is happening there. There is little incentive to wander in to the heart of the city, although I sense that currently it is not too risky.
The rest of our itinerary is now cancelled. Hopefully we will be able to return home at the weekend.
Karen is feeling a bit under the weather so is resting up.
The queues at the supermarkets are long. Perhaps limiting the number of customers for safety and security.
Update: just checked the 24 hour news. There is something going on just further up the road from us, the opposite direction of the city. I'm sure at some point later we will hear the clanging of pots!
Update 2: A huge student march along the main street a the end of our road. Thousands of people fill the road for over an hour, all walking towards Plaza Italia.
Day Five
Whilst Karen chilled out at the hotel, still feeling under the weather, I ventured out for a walk in the warm Chilean sunshine. It felt good to stretch the legs and I end up walking around 7 miles. Our neighbourhood was busy with most people going about as normal. Many but not all shops were open. Some metro lines are running, buses are chugging along the streets and taxis honking their horns.
I walk down one of the main streets towards one of the big shopping areas. A few protesters are already heading towards various plazas, through a minor trail of destruction. Bus shelters are smashed, lamp posts broken, bins burnt out, various buildings (mostly belonging to big corporations or banks) are boarded-up and graffitied. The occasional scar of a precious fire in the tarmac. City workers are out sweeping up.
The roads are packed with traffic. Occasionally, the police try to direct around roadworks and closures but it's no fun in the car.
As I get closer to Plazas Baquedano & Italia, the protesters are out in force and groups of people with whistles combine and begin marching. These appear to be professionals of all ages.
Deciding to avoid getting any closer, I take a side street and notice people clutching their mouths. Then it hits me. My eyes are on fire and my throat burns; The unmistakable sting of tear gas in the air, blowing in from a distance as there is little happening where I am other than people exercising in a small park.
I decide to abort my shopping trip and take side streets back towards the main avenue further along.
Normality returns as I get back to our district and go beyond. The queue at the supermarket as permanently long as ever, but all is well. The occasional honk or clap of the '1-2, 1-2-3' beat now more common than birdsong.
I collect Karen and we lunch in a restaurant nearby. We wander as all the shops close for the rest of the day. Ambulances screaming by, we head back to the serenity of our hotel, which is becoming less busy by the day.
The constant hum from nearby helicopters, cheers and the odd pot being struck can now be heard in the distance. The second phase of daily life now firmly kicking in. The 24 hour news channel is like a drug, easily becoming transfixed to the live pictures from other parts of the city. The crowds are large.
A curfew for Santiago is not yet declared as is normal until later in the day, but it seems inevitable once again.
The images of pockets of police and military brutality from after dark the night before occasionally loop between the good natured and more 'lively' images flicking between different Plazas around the country.
We are hoping to leave soon but must wait a little longer for the insurance to resolve some outstanding issues.
Day Six
But first...
Yesterday evening
I found a way of changing the audio settings on the hotel TV to the original soundtrack instead of dubbed Spanish. It's a revelation and a welcome break from BBC World News or the wall-to-wall coverage of civil unrest.
We settle in for a Simpsons and Ice Age 3 marathon. It's all that is remotely worth watching but there's only so much Homer & repeatitive commercials one can take and I fall asleep with a cold and Kindle in hand.
Today
We wake early with the aroma of frying bacon and eggs. A daily ritual at 06:30 each morning. It's not so nice now.
The city is alive and eventually we are wandering towards the business district. Not so much for fresh air, thanks to the traffic, but air and sunshine all the same. The larger parks away from the busy roads are all taken with less relaxing activities at the moment. This end of town, who'd have thought that Chile's capital had been in the daily grip of protests for well over a week. Some workers are tending to The InterContinental's vertical garden along the face of their tall building, surrounded by glass towers whichever way you turn.
Business men and women are out for lunch and the pavements are as thick with pedestrians as the streets are choked with traffic.
We pass three substantial and beaten armoured vehicles, with police hanging around in their armoured wear.
A while later and a very small group are clattering pots on a corner. An SUV passes by with a homemade flag being waved from the back window; honking the 1-2, 1-2-3 beat. Construction workers briefly join in from several stories up.
A vegetarian restaurant in our street has provided the perfect antidote to pizza, pasta, bread, cheese and more cheese. We've had no opportunity for steak and red wine here and not really felt like it. Although the American doctors here earlier in the week were kind enough to share a glass or two of the bottle they had purchased on their cut-short winery tour.
Back in the hotel, one of the staff is standing in the little kitchen with a shiny new megaphone. This is new and seems at odds with a decrease in protests and curfew hours lately. I point at it with a puzzled expression. "Just for safety in case we have to use it for our guests... But we're not expecting anything to happen, it's a quiet area here." He quickly said with an almost convincing reassuring face. Hmm.
"How many guests are left?"
"Just four. The owner is not accepting more bookings at the moment."
That explains why they were politely wondering if we'd be leaving today or tomorrow. [Later I find out, more guests have arrived and it's their other hotel that's closed. The owner personally collected some guests and brought them over apparently]. We're confirmed to be flying out on Saturday and they seem happy enough we stay until then and they know we have been wanting to fly out sooner, held back by insurance and other issues. There's a 2:1 staff to guest ratio for now.
"What will happen next week?"
"Hopefully things will calm down"
Indeed. I hope they do. The reversal of various cost increases and other changes such as a rise in minimum wage from the President and government has not satisfied everyone.
The metro system apparently, only had insurance for their administrative buildings, not stations or trains. The costs and excesses were too high. They say they have the money already set aside for repairs, but an estimated $330M USD is a high price to pay.
Meanwhile... hopefully Uber Eats are delivering tonight. Our penultimate night in which the curfew begins a bit later (22:00) for the second night. There's not much to do once all the shops and restaurants close around 15:00.
Day 7: We're done.
Some others in the hotel have talked about being able to get in to the park on the hill near us. There's an amazing 360° view from there. We're both too unwell to hike up there as the others did, so decide to get a taxi to the funicular. We thought it might be running.
The taxi driver, who we didn't think spoke English suddenly burst in to life as we approached our drop off. "It is dangerous here."
"It's ok, we are going to walk down the other side so we're not coming back this way."
She seemed relieved, "OK, this is where the protests start from and it's not safe for you to be around here later."
I'd already heard there were two marches planned for the day, but not until 12 and a huge one at 5. It was still early so thought we'd make the most of a few hours.
¡Cerrado!
Doh!
We turned around and headed back to the hotel.
As we left the taxi driver leaning against her little car, having a cigarette and enjoying the relative calm of our street, we wander off to stretch our legs.
Lunch at The Resistance Cafe seemed appropriate but not deliberate. We take a casual walk back with an ice cream.
"MISTER! Mister!" I think I'm being called. The security guard in the pharmacy who'd helped me a week ago was waving at me. "I remember you!" she smiled. We chatted for a while. Karen was amused and bemused that seemingly random people in a place we'd only been for a week had already got to know me.
We chill back at the hotel, still both pretty wiped out. On the TV we watch as over a million people gather in Plaza Italia, in a very different state to when we walked through a week before. Apparently the biggest ever protest in Chile's history. Although probably quite peaceful, it was best we witnessed it from a distance. We'd seen reports of police brutality - strike first and ask questions later. A couple from the hotel had lost their passports when their bag got snatched. Having experienced tear gas three times more than I'd want already, I didn't fancy it.
On the way to the airport, the transfer guy was really enthusiastic about the protests and showed us a video of him in front of a fire with police firing nearby. He was definitely a man of the people so had stories to tell, who are we to judge... Apparently an old man with Alzheimer's 7 miles from home, was found shot and dead in the supermarket fire a few days ago. Seems odd. Supposedly some of the burnt out buses were driven to the streets purposefully. Their registrations showed they had already been retired.
Hopefully they will work it out soon. The president is already listening and making changes. Whether it's enough or will still take time remains to be seen. The state of emergency remains in place for at least another 5 days.
A week after arriving in Santiago and a week before we were due to finish our holiday and we're back home.
It's certainly not been the best holiday and illness meant we couldn't have done the treks anyway. We'll have to save that for the next time.