Seeing the World

We wandered round our suburb last night looking for somewhere to eat.  The options were, it seems, restricted to Dunkin Donuts, Burger King and Pizza Hut.

A shrug of the shoulders and we wandered back to our hotel who welcomed us into their empty restaurant.  It’ll either be overpriced or poor quality!  WRONG!  Chris had a spectacular lamb dish and my beef medallion was perfectly cooked and tasted delicious.  Change of £25.  Impressed.

Today there’s a plan.  It might change, but as it stands we’ll be heading out of our suburb on the metro system and heading to the centre of town for a four hour “free but please tip” walking tour.

Theres always the option of bailing out if my bones can’t cope, but I can’t think of a better way to see a city I know nothing about.

Santiago itself is an after thought.  We’re here for the Atacama.  Easter Island.  The lakes.  The capital city just acts as a hub to everything.  I booked three nights here on the off chance it might be interesting.  And to recover from jet lag before doing the exciting stuff.

Lunch will be interesting.  Hopeful the eateries in the centre will have more to them than near our hotel!

Santiago Seems Nice

When Chris initially suggested Chile my head filled with thoughts of military dictators and chickens.

The likes of Pinochet and Galtieri have historically blessed these parts with a different take on leadership.  My most immediate thoughts concerned chickens and run down cars in poor neighbourhoods.

I think it’s fair to say Chile has moved on from my stereotyped thoughts.  The drive by taxi from airport to hotel revealed a modern city, with new developments and numerous bars and restaurants.  Not to mention the stunning Andes beyond.

The people are friendly and hotel staff couldn’t do enough for us.  Out taxi driver called out numerous sites and attractions on the long journey from the airport.  He revealed a pride in his country and a pride in its status as a modern nation, out gunning the likes of Argentina and Brazil in international league tables.

Walking outside feels safe.  I don’t think I could say the same for Milan.  The supermarket we visited was well stocked and busy.  Indeed, the shopping area we saw was also busy.

While my views may change as we travel further afield, for now, Santiago is ace!

Flight Three: Madrid to Santiago

Boarding was fun. Two lanes formed. Business and plebeian.  As we walked down our lane the air bridge appeared and separated us. A glass wall between us, eventually leading to different plane doors.

This A340 business class cabin afforded us two seats next to each other. No window, but then nighttime was to follow the entire journey so who needs a view?

Being fed on a plane at 1am felt wrong. Especially after we’d been fed on a place a few hours earlier. My appetite wasn’t up to much and, in truth, neither was my brain.

Iberia cabin staff were fabulous at refilling the wine glass though, but eventually I succumbed to sleep.

The first half of my sleep saw a reclined chair. I adjusted to fully flat later on which helped my back a little. We both slept well and my only criticism of the chair is that the bit where you stick you feet narrows too soon. But that’s certainly a minor niggle for the comfort enjoyed. And a tad better than those who’d disappeared into the economy door somewhere behind us.

As morning in my head approached I paid a visit and drank copious amounts of water to counter dehydration. A snack of the worst croissant ever and a nicer Mars bar. A promise of a proper breakfast before a 7.30am landing in Santiago.

While the food on board hasn’t impressed the service and comfort has. I’d been dreading the long hours in a plane but we both seem to have survived it well.

The key challenges of the day are finding a taxi and persuading our hotel to accommodate us, or at least our bags, when we rock up there at 9am local time.

It should be sunny for the next few days though!

Flight Two – Milan to Madrid – After the Pink Crop Top

Milan was undoubtedly a rush job. A walk to the cathedral. Impeccably dressed middle aged men hopping on to their mopeds. A series of beautiful ladies in their summer clothes. And one pink crop topped braless wonder that left me with my tongue hanging out for minutes after she left my life.

Chris the Geology student changed the subject and introduced me to the granite breeze blocks that had built the structure next to us. So much more maturity than his Dad.

I’d hoped the walk would open up great sites of a great city. All the exclusive fashion brands were there, but I’m not exactly aware of what they mean. Put me in a made to measure Milanese suit and it just wouldn’t hang well.

Back to the station and into the airport. Dragging my 19kg case around proved to be a pain. I struggled with it, despite the wheels. Solo in Australia in November may be even more challenging. Something to ponder.

Next flight Milan to Madrid. We’ll only see the airport lounge in Madrid before connecting to our big beast A340 plane to Santiago. In the meantime, I can compare Iberia short haul business class service to that of BA, their sister company.

A refusal to take our bags more than two and a quarter hours pre-flight. Annoying and robbing us of spirit supping lounge time. Fast track through security. I don’t remember that on BA at Manchester or Heathrow.

A scruffy cabin. But decent leg room, unlike BA. Like BA, the business class middle seat remains empty. But no table on Iberia. Not the end of the world, but perhaps a bit cheap.

Announcements in Spanish and heavily accented English. Good old BA tend to dish it out in the mother tongue only. Amusement at a regular three tone ring that should be followed by a”Hi de hi” campers announcement. Nothing forthcoming.

Then an act of class. BA turn up at your seat, tell you one or the other and deliver your meal. Maybe a side effect of my experience being their shortest English flight from Manchester to London. Iberia bring forth a menu. Chicken or salmon for main course. I’ll take the bird. Tougher decision will be tea, wine, beer, spirit or water to drink! I like the menu. The menu moves it up a notch. Small touches make posh flying special.

Drink is an issue. I’m sure by now BA would have me throwing liquid down my throat. Their Spanish friends seem a little slower bringing our the booze. I’m beginning to think I fancy a Baileys. No ice. Thirst has me, despite beer and cola in the lounge an hour or so earlier.

Eventually the steward takes my order. And immediately supplies my chicken and fruity stuff which is excellent. They don’t stock Baileys but a huge brandy and creme is supplied. I’m happy with local! Chris gets a G&T which lacks t but is high on g.

As I end the three courses, I’m asked tea or coffee. I request tea. A coffee arrives and I decide not to bother asking for a swap. Maybe tea rhymes with coffee and they misheard my palsy impacted voice.

Chris ends up with tea. “Green or black?” – these foreigners across the world just don’t get it! He goes black and it arrives with cream rather than milk. They really don’t get it! Fortunately, it tastes half decent.

As with BA the plane has no power points, USB or otherwise, for passengers to use. Iberia Express have a basic in flight entertainment screen and the chance to charge your iPad. Iberia (not express) have neither. I move into terror zone as the iPad power drops below 50%. Four hours life is my guess. Hopefully charging points in the Madrid lounge!

What is becoming clear is that BA and Iberia, while related, are quite different. What BA does well Iberia struggles in. But what BA has lost in terms of class Iberia might just have the upper hand now. They’re both a long way from great with their European business class service. But some of it is rather nice.

I just can’t see myself ever paying the cash fares except when they’re effectively free as part of a discounted long haul booking where the real business class with the posh seat is on the subsequent flight! Or maybe to trigger silver status. But the lounge use is already covered by my
Priority Pass.

The flight meanders on to Madrid. The steward gives us an explanation as to how to get from our landing terminal to Santiago departure terminal. This is really appreciated. Trying to comprehend Milan’s railway and airport has been a challenge. Madrid looks more complex. The help proved invaluable, securing more lounge time. My back needs it.

Another three hours in the lounge before the big one.  Hagen Das.  A cretin with a phone keyboard making clicking noises as he types.  Sleep in that thirteen hours flight please!

Milan Likes Itself

The late landing and a ridiculously long wait to get hold luggage from plane to customer enhanced my irritation with the day.  I was cursing the lack of train station signs too until we came across a series of them leading us to the airport’s station.

Our poor Italian sign reading led us, dragging suitcases, to the wrong platform.  This was corrected by using the lift Chris thought we should have used first.  The €13 fare eventually had us on a clean train with charging points and into the city within an hour.  Centrale station is a magnificent building.  The surrounding plaza impressed.  Signs for attractions suggested this is a city that likes itself rather a lot.  Instinct told me beware pickpockets.

The ability for a two hour flight to tire me amazes.  Sore back, not helped by heavy case, exited the station.  I cursed a group of railway staff chatting across a narrow platform, ignoring our need to get past.  It’s been a day of ignorance from the rest if the human race.

We exited the wrong side of the station, so the three minute google Maps walk became 10.  We eventually find our hotel down a side street, next to a building site with a button to press for entry.  The door unlocked and we wandered up a floor.  The Ritz this isn’t!

Our receptionist welcomed us in perfect English, apologising for her poor use of our native tongue.  We joked about our use of Italian, limited to ciao and grazie.  She said we knew more, citing pizza, spaghetti, bolognaise and more as words we surely knew.  A delightful young lady who showed us to our room.  A double room.

My booking had the word “twin” in it, but she insisted that this is the room I’d selected.  No alternatives.  Chris, you’re sharing with Dad tonight!

Painkillers.  A lie down.  Then tea.  Pizza and ice cream with a bottle of red.  Tired, we collectively declined to see Milan by night and returned to our room, eventually connecting charging devices to the mains in the bathroom after a long battle with adaptors and sockets.

A hot sticky night in a comfortable bed.  A basic brekkie awaits.  A morning in Milan before negotiating another Malensa Express service and another 2 x €13 ticket cost.

Fly Eventually

A 6am start. A 7am collection of Chris in Oldham. The 8am meet at Mark’s for his generous park and ride service deferred half an hour by the evil of M60 traffic queues.

Flybe utilise self service bag drop. I watched carefully as Chris managed this for me, remembering the hash I’d made of things in Reykjavik! Maybe I’ll be ok next time. At least there were none of the feared issues around nil, 20kg and 23kg!

A relatively swift security check and off to a quiet Escape Lounge to order a bacon sandwich and drink copious amounts of coffee. Chris cracks open a can of John Smiths. I’ll never manage a 9am beer even if flying is involved!

Eventually the flight board shows a delay to our flight. More coffee. Choc au pain. I encourage Chris to smuggle a cider into his bag for later! He chooses not to.

I’ve flown a few times with Flybe, most recently to Belfast in May. Most commonly with work to Belfast. My perception of timeliness and reliability has them bottom of the list, even if most of that dates back a decade. This delay annoys me more because I’m tired and grumpy rather than any rational reason. It’s not as if we’re in a hurry.

Eventually a gate number is called and we reach our departure area to find no available seats. Numerous other passengers have spread themselves out to sleep across three seats each. Maybe they did this when several seats remained, but my back told me they were selfish bastards. My brain pondered waking one of them verbally. As I pondered a more interesting “run my bag into one of the offenders’ heads” approach two other seats opened up so nothing was said and we sat. And waited.

Around an hour later we were ready for the runway and take off. The stewardess spotted the bloke behind us using his mobile phone. She’d only read out three mobile device messages in the previous fifteen minutes. Again, the selfishness and thoughtlessness of others never ceases to amaze me. There was little doubt that she’d have stopped the plane taking off if he’d continued his conversation.

Finally in the air. The now well known discomforts of sitting in an economy airline seat quickly set in with lower central back pain. That’s different to the buttock problem and most likely related to my destroyed L5 vertebra.

My mood remains subdued. But I record an impressive 2-1 Breaking Bad Top Trumps win over Chris as the south coast of England appears beneath us.

Chile is getting nearer!

When the Airline Improves Things and Irritates You

The cheapest business class flights to Santiago, when I booked in January, involved starting the journey in Italy.  Hence tomorrow’s flight to Milan prior to a Thursday morning landing in Santiago.  Cheap means a £1,500 saving in exchange for time in Milan.  It also means a Flybe flight to get to Italy.

At the time of booking Flybe had a 20kg hold luggage allowance compared to 23kg/46kg for the numerous other flights on this trip.  In other words, keep under 20kg has been my instruction to Chris.

Today I come to do the online check in for Flybe.  Problem one was a need for passport info.  Solved.  Problem two was my outbound luggage allowance showing hand baggage only.

A panicked check of the original booking showed their error, not mine.  I played about with the illogical check in software and eventually uncovered a message telling me Flybe now accept 23kg as standard.

Now while this is a welcome improvement I feel more than a bit peeved that they hadn’t bothered mentioning this until the last minute.

Next problem is my luggage allowance.  The pop up screen gives us both 23kg.  The underlying screen remains steadfast in nil for me and 20kg for Chris.  Hopefully just a crap IT implementation and I don’t have to have a “discussion” at bag drop tomorrow morning.

X Marks the Spot

A few days ago I was wallowing around the bath tub tring to get out.  It was an uncomfortable experience and I’m pleased to say most of the aches and strains appear to have gone.

The one constant discomfort that remains, or rather returns when other pains disappear, is the right buttock.  Imagine a horse kicking you bloody hard there and then waiting a couple of days for the impact to drop back a little on the pain scale.

Thats where this sole problem is.  Sore, but not intense.  Irritating but not agonising.  Like a bruising but no outward signs of damage.

In a month the area should receive a CT scan.  That might highlight what the injury is.  Why I have ongoing weakness there.  Why, every now and again, the pain moves around the pelvic area causing different sensations.

The assumption has to be damage caused by the cancer.  The fear has to be there’s still a sizeable tumour wandering around in there.  It’s not impossible that perhaps my back surgery has degraded slightly causing a slight shift in my shape.  Maybe I’ve just spent the last year overcompensating for difficulties caused by the series of aches that my body has endured.

Perhaps simply resting my butt for thirteen hours on a plane in the early hours of Thursday morning is exactly what I need!

Santiago Chile – Snowfall!

The weather has been kind to me on most of my trips.  And, as I descend into Santiago on Thursday morning local time, the winter weather is forecast to reach 20 Celsius on a sunny day.

Reports yesterday have highlighted power cuts and injuries caused by a rare phenomena in the South American capital.  Snow.

Pictures of cars skidding, children throwing snowballs and chaos usually associated with an inch of the white stuff on london’s toads being played out in the South American capital.

The BBC claims it’s the first snow there since the 1970s.  Pictures elsewhere dated 2011 seem to contradict this.  But it all supports my decision to expect tee shirt and jeans weather but have jumper, fleece, hat and gloves on standby.

It’s also a reminder of the bizarre extremes of climate in Chile.  Santiago is just 30 miles from the Andes.  Huge snow covered mountains that rarely share that snow with the capital.  Dry desert to the north, which will hopefully be a highlight.  Frozen tundra to the south, which we’re avoiding.  And who knows, there might even be grass skirt wearing when we reach Easter Island!

Fair to say, this isn’t going to be a few weeks on a sun bed rubbing in the factor 30.

Pain, Long Flights, Pills, Posh Seats and Unlimited Alcohol