I arrived in Chile shortly after 18:00, although the sun was still beaming as if it were noon. At the airport, I withdrew some money and immediately caught the Centropuerto bus near the front of the terminal, just as Triposo advised. I bought a return ticket and was soon dropped off at Pajaritos Station on Line 1. I managed to get a Bip! card and caught the metro to Manuel Montt, the station closest to my hotel.

A short walk down the road brought me to the Ibis, my basic hotel. It cost about $50 per night, roughly what our hostel stay would have cost. Felipe at the front desk checked me in, and I went up to my room. The layout appears to be identical in every country, and this one was no different: bathroom immediately to the right, television to the left, and bed beyond the bathroom. There was one chair, a small desk, something that might be called a sofa, and power outlets above it.

Since I arrived so late, I did not intend to explore much. I was hungry, however, so I went to a nearby supermarket and bought bread, salami, and cheese. Everybody was pleasant despite the language barrier. I made my food, watched a little television, and fell asleep.

Probably because of jet lag, I woke at about 04:00 feeling hungry. Fortunately, the hotel offered a “light breakfast” between 04:00 and 06:30, so I went downstairs for muffins and coffee, checked the internet, and planned the rest of the day. UFC was playing on the television, which seemed an odd choice for five in the morning.

By 07:30 or so, I had finished breakfast, got ready, and set out to explore the city on foot. A long stretch of parkland follows the river, beginning with the Japanese Park, later renamed, and leading into Parque Forestal.

I passed the Baquedano roundabout and eventually reached the Mercado Central. I turned south and continued to the Plaza de Armas and Santiago Cathedral. Mass was still under way when I entered, so I took a quick, quiet walk to the back of the church and returned. The angels painted across the walls gave the interior an almost otherworldly atmosphere. It was beautiful from an artistic perspective, though more ornate than I was accustomed to.

It became evident that the downtown area had several pleasant walkways, so I wandered past government buildings and eventually reached La Moneda, whose history is steeped in revolution and tragedy. The main square was under construction, but a marching-band ceremony had just begun in the square behind it. I watched for a while, until a man with an earpiece and radio stood beside me, at which point I moved on.

I followed Avenida Libertador Bernardo O’Higgins for a while, walked in circles near the Santiago Stock Exchange, and found an open grocery store where I could get a quick bite. I bought two pollo empanadas, which were perfect for that time of day, and shared some sparkling water. By the time I finished, I was ready to continue. We walked past the opera house, enjoying the crossing signals whose little green figures change from walking slowly to running, and entered Santa Lucia Hill park.

The park was beautifully maintained. It was not quite a botanical garden, but it was clean and felt fresh. I walked counter-clockwise towards the top and climbed into the small castle, getting lost only once. From there, I had panoramic views in every direction.

After visiting Santa Lucia Hill, I walked into Barrio Lastarria, which I initially took to be something of a Turkish neighbourhood, and ended up at the La Rosa ice cream shop. Unlike the rest of the city on that Sunday morning, the shop was exceptionally busy. I ordered spicy chocolate and something beige; I don’t think I ever figured out what the second flavour was. After five or six hours of walking, the ice cream tasted wonderful.

I decided to visit the Museum of Memory and Human Rights, but while returning to Bellas Artes Station I detoured along some back streets and ended up at Universidad Catolica Station. I took the metro to a stop near the museum, but it soon became clear that I was getting too hot. I turned around, returned to the metro, and headed back to my hotel. It was now almost 15:00, and I had been walking steadily for eight hours. I showered and took a few short naps, trying to remain tired enough to sleep later that night.

At about 19:00, I was getting hungry, so I wandered around and found a pizza place. I ordered two pizzas, about $8 each, and shared one large Coke. It turned out to be a 2.5-litre bottle, far more than I had expected.

I had my pizza and went back to my hotel, watched some TV, and fell asleep.

I woke at about 07:00 the next day planning to visit San Cristobal Hill, but first I needed to speak with a LAN Airlines representative because I had been unable to check in online. She was helpful, and despite the language barrier, I understood the essentials: I needed to check in at the airport.

Down the road, I stopped at a cafe for what I expected to be excellent coffee, but it was below average by Sydney standards. I planned to stop drinking coffee soon, and this might have been my last cup for a while, so it was disappointing.

I walked back to the station, added money to my Bip! card, bought food from a supermarket, and decided that walking up the hill would be unwise. The afternoons were becoming quite warm, and spending many hours in the open sun carried some risk. Instead, I made another attempt to visit the Museum of Memory and Human Rights, this time using the station directly beside it. I arrived at its beautifully designed building only to discover that the museum was closed for cleaning. A small photo display covered some of the previous 50 years of history, and I sat down to consider what to do next. A museum pamphlet reminded me that Valparaiso was less than two hours away and had inspired Pablo Neruda, so it seemed worth visiting. I took the metro to Pajaritos Station, bought my tickets, and was soon on my way.

The roads were clear, and the bus cruised quickly out of Santiago. It had a speedometer visible to all passengers, with a maximum permitted speed of 100 km/h; the driver was almost always at 99 km/h. I wondered whether the display had been introduced in response to earlier safety concerns.

I arrived in Valparaiso and walked out of the station towards the water. The city was less tidy than Santiago but still cleaner than some other places I had recently visited. It reminded me a little of previous trips to Mexico.

Just before arriving at the water there was another set of park blocks, so I walked along them for two or three kilometres. I detoured a little past the main square and cathedral, down the road some more, and ended up in a supermarket buying food for my trip through Patagonia. I left the supermarket and it was about time to begin walking back to the bus station. I walked until I saw the Mercado building, knowing I needed to turn right, and found the bus station.

It would have been fun to explore the hills, but my time was limited, and I would have felt safer as part of a group. Neruda had a home here, apparently with a wonderful view, so perhaps I will return and see it someday.

The bus departed for Santiago on time and dropped me at Pajaritos. I took the metro back to Manuel Montt, collected my bags, and looked for something to eat. My neighbourhood was apparently a great place for food and nightlife, which had not been evident on Sunday, but on Monday evening it was buzzing with activity.  I sat down at SushiCity, expecting good seafood, and ordered a 26-piece sushi platter.

After almost an hour, the sushi finally arrived, but with a twist I wasn’t expecting. Nearly every roll was filled with mayonnaise. I wasn’t entirely surprised, given the huge selection at the supermarket, but in sushi? I scraped some off, finished my meal, paid, and caught the metro back to Pajaritos. From there, I took the Centropuerto bus and was soon at the airport.

Getting our tickets was not a problem, and I was pleased to discover that the airport seats had no armrests between them, meaning someone could stretch out and sleep. Unfortunately, the Samsung televisions were at full volume, their speakers seemingly close to burning out, and every ten minutes they blasted an announcement about Regina Spektor. With three hours to wait, this became tiresome very quickly.

By 1:30am my flight was ready to board, and I got my seats and took off for the south of Chile.