Bicicleta Verde

Perhaps it is evidence that the tour is coming to an end but I am finding it hard to get motivated since arriving in Santiago. After a late breakast I took the subway to the center and wandered the
pedestrian way up to the Plaza de Armes. Just past the plaza is the Mercado Central which is mostly fresh fish stands on the outer perimeter and restaurants in the inside. After a walk and constant hawking by the waiters I settled into Donde Augusto which is the largest of the lot. I have been advised to try the reineta which, in the stands, is large and flat and a silvery gray. On my plate, it is much like a well cooked piece of white turkey breast. I comes with a bit of creamy seafood sauce and I makes for a nice lunch before my bike tour.

The bike tour is fun and interesting and I am paired with a British family that are traveling for a year! The kids aren't much interested in the history but our guide Richardo does a good job. (it is amazing that the Pinochet era was in my lifetime) Along the way we discuss food and drink and he reminds me of the terramotto - the drink! Just outside the mercado central is La Piojera a dicey indoor/outdoor "bar" who's claim to fame is the terremotto. (as we learned on the tour - there is great class division in Santiago and this is definately below the line). The drink is served on a 10 oz plastic cup and is cheap sweet white wine, pineapple ice cream and frenet which is a cheap argentine brandy. It doesn't really mix until the ice cream starts to melt but it is tasty.

The place is packed with fish vendors from the market and it is loud and rowdy. I am trying to find a better place to stand when a round faced local begins a one-sided conversation in Spanish. He has had a few terramottos but he is entertaining and quite proud to be Chilean. As many of you know I collect flag lapel pins of my travels and I had been looking all day for a shop that might sell them. As we talk he takes off his cap and gives me a large pin. I have hardly drunk any if my drink but I am moved by the gesture. (sadly the rest of the story is not quite as emotional) He gestures to follow him and he introduces me to two very young girls who have had a drink or two as well. It is all fun and games but they are constantly reminding me to watch my messenger bag. My amigo then decides to give me a wooden necklace with a cross. I refuse at first but he is insistant. Against my better judgement I decide to buy another round. While I am at the bar another man decides to be my friend and when I pull out my camera to take a picture of the bar, I am advised not to flash things around as people will wait until I come outside. My intuition takes the better of me and I excuse myself from all my new friends by pointing to my watch. I am fine cognitively and it is still light outside so I jump in the first cab I see for home. I am hopeful that I was being overly cautious and if not it tarnishs the whole experience but it certainly makes for more great story telling!

(it is Palm Sunday morning and the streets are empty. I am in a very posh neighborhood enjoying what I would consider to be an Irish fry up - eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, mushrooms - and lattes served in soup bowls. This afternoon I will take my final bus trip to Valparasio)