The border crossing back to Chile from Argentina was at 3000 feet, and was tediously long. Christian declared his apple to the customs officials and the Border Officer carried it around with him like a trophy. Once we had all stood in a line like an ID parade, once all our bags had been removed from the bus and put through an X-ray machine, and once a woman had explained why she had a bag full of yoghurt, we were on our way.
Christian and I had made arrangements to meet our Chilean friends in Valparaiso. This is a beach city two hours North of Santiago, and it is where almost the whole of Chile congregates every December 31st to welcome in the New Year. A friend of Rodrigo's had rented a house there and that was where we found ourselves. Rickety wooden stairs led us up to a corridor which had many rooms off it. We chose a room which looked as though ten other people had already reserved it (sleeping bags and rucksacks all over the place) and went in search of a much-needed shower. Seeing the state of the bathroom, we felt we would probably be cleaner to go without showers. There were people everywhere and we started meeting people and getting our cheeks covered in kisses. It was mostly Chilenos but there were also some Americans there (the gringos). We also started drinking at this point which was about 5pm. Someone threw a cow on the barbeque and everyone was happy.
At about 11pm we all grabbed a bottle of whatever was closest and headed off to see the fireworks. We picked up some more gringos on the way and went to the top of a hill. The place was crammed full of people of every age waiting for the fireworks, and they were well worth it. The firework display was amazing, and the same display is repeated along the coast in unison, to multiply the effect. At the stroke of midnight we got covered in champagne and then glitter and confetti, so we were encrusted in celebration! Everywhere you could hear patriotic chants from the Chilenos "Viva Chileeeeeeee!" There was more hugging and kissing and drinking and then it was time to find a club and dance the night away. The club was loads of fun except for one thing that dismayed Christian. It was near impossible to get a drink! One thing to tell you about Chile, is that if a job for one person can be shared by two or three people, it more than likely will be. The procedure at the club was to queue up to order your drink, get a ticket from person number one, take your ticket to person number two who makes your drink, and then pay person number three. For this reason we went thirsty at the club (which was probably a good thing after the amount we had consumed). When we finally crawled back up the hill to our house at 6am, Christian and I found six people already asleep in our room; two in the bed, two on sofas, and two on a matress. We unrolled our sleep bags and got into the bed with the other two people, and one of the gringos got on the floor for a comfortable night's sleep. After a couple of hours lying sandwiched between Christian and a complete stranger I got up. Since I was still sticky from Champagne and glitter I risked taking a shower and felt slightly better. It had been a crazy and exhaustng night, and to make us even more tired we then trekked all over town trying to find a hostel for the night. With our bags stowed in a bohemian (spot the euphemism) hostel we headed to the beach where a mad man covered Christian in sand and tried to start a fight. When I say mad man, I do actually mean it. Once his friends had dragged him away and thrown him head-first into the sand he came back to Christian and started digging a hole frantically with his hands, like a dog, showering Christian in sand. When he headed towards a young family near us, the father in the family pushed him to the ground and it looked as though it was going to get nasty. All eyes were on the man and his friends who tried to take control of him. Finally, the police turned up looking very dapper in their "Officer and a Gentleman" uniforms and the situation calmed down. That night, our friends went out to another party until 5am despite the fact we were all getting up at 8am for buses back to Santiago. I think the Chilenos must be made differently to us Brits; their capacity for partying is remarkable! Christian and I slept like the dead and then tried to raise the dead when it came to waking Rodrigo and Felipe. We all got buses back to Santiago and went our separate ways. It was sad to say goodbye to our Chilean friends, they had made our visit really special and had truly shown us how to party. However, our bodies needed to recover and so we jumped on a bus away from the cosmopolitan capital, and towards the natural beauty that Chile has to offer in the South.
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