Hostel stays are the way to go!

I spent nearly 10 nights in La Chimba Hostel in Barrio Bellas Artes. Would I recommend this place to any backpacker? Yes. The people were nice, the hostel clean, and I always felt safe. The location is great for getting around on foot to see the touristy parts of the city. If you want to see more, the metro station is a 10 minute walk. The only thing… bring a pair of ear plugs or a charged ipod to drown out the snorers and the music from the karaoke bar next door. The receptionists are super helpful. They can call you a taxi, give you directions, have your clothes washed for you in a day for very little, and store your things without any hassle. Also, they have clean towels at no extra cost to you!

If I had to do it again, the only thing I would ask is to stay in female dorms. Sleeping in a room full of strange men each night can be a bit unnerving, though. Also, try to get a bottom bunk. For me this had consequences due to some childhood memories of falling out of top bunks. I was very conscious of how I was sleeping at night. Most importantly, this was also because the frame of my bed squeaked loudly whenever I moved. I found it to be a good tool to quell the snoring in our room. However, the first night I stayed in the dorm a guy from Brazil fell right out of the top bunk on the other side of the room in the middle of the night! I sat straight up in bed, “todo bien?!”. He assured everyone he was fine and went to get a drink of water. I hoped that helped him…

Something I also learned: Avoid telling people you are from Texas. If it has to come out, follow up with either, “I’m a democrat” or “I voted for Obama”. Otherwise, you will have to hear about how you are from the same state as Bush… And then the Bush jokes will start. If you are a Bush supporter, (1) Prepare a defense for your decision to support the man; (2) Go buy his first autobiography and please forget to tell me about it after you’ve read it.

I met some really awesome people while staying in La Chimba. They were from all over the world and were traveling for various reasons. Mostly, everyone was passing through. Santiago was just a stopping point. Many had been traveling for weeks through South America, working their way across, up, down, zigzag, across the continent. Some spoke only Spanish, and others spoke an outrageous number of languages that immediately put me to shame. The Brazilians spoke Portuguese, English and Spanish. Germans and Austrians were learning Spanish as they traveled. Australians and New Zealanders were winging it (disclaimer: not all). The Swedes one night found a vampire movie on cable in Swedish and took over the TV room.

In talking to these people, not only did I meet such a fascinating diversity of people whose lives were so different from mine, but I realized I was the one who could offer advice on the best places to visit in and around Santiago, the exchange rates, the best restaurants, museums and artisanal markets to hit up, what streets to take… it was a disturbing and thrilling revelation for me. I had lived in this city for 5 months!

I spent some time getting to know a gentleman who could be considered a resident by hostel standards. He was originally from Iran and had been living in England. He was on a journey which had taken him through Africa, China, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand. He had somehow found himself in Chile for the time, but in no hurry to leave to anywhere in particular. It was insightful talking to him about his life and the emotional place he now found himself in.

I was a little sad to leave at the end of my stay. I would miss having such great conversations with new people from faraway places every night. However, I was ready to start the final chapter in my travels. And finally have a good night’s sleep. Into the Andes!!! It would certainly not be the last time I stayed in a hostel.