I don’t know how Chileans do it. After an “early night out” by Chilean standards, I’m sleepy and slothlike for much of the next day. I think I am better suited to a life of fireplaces, tea, and books. Perhaps a jigsaw puzzle, if I feel extravagant.
In the afternoon, I met M. for coffee, introducing her to the deliciousness that is Emporio La Rosa. We caught up on what we’d each been doing for the week I was away. Afterwards, we wandered back to my house to research possibilities for our Mendoza trip. Some of the activities we may attempt: rafting, ziplining, horseback rides, tango classes, wine tours, aquariums, and/or museums, depending on our time and energy.
Mendoza is one of the Great Wine Capitals, a network of nine cities worldwide that are renowned for their wine production. I don’t know if that actually signifies anything important, other than that it should have some excellent winery tours. They also produce a large amount of olive oil, which sounds equally exciting to me, if not more.
After a wonderful time planning and giggling with M. (e.g. about a horseback tour website which promised “one horse per person” — gosh, what luxury!), I walked her to the bus and then returned home for a while.
My friend E. had informed me that there was a plan for everyone from our Spanish school to go out that evening, and invited me along. In the night, I headed out to join up with them.
The group started out at a bar called Pajaritos (Little Birds), which was packed and noisy. I enjoyed seeing classmates again, and also thought it fun to spend time with the teachers in a purely social context. At one point, a trio of clowns danced through the bar, did an incomprehensible but silly act in fast Chilean Spanish, and then flounced out.
Eventually, the group decided to switch to a different venue, a pub/discotheque called Mascara. We danced as a clump of Spanish-school amigos, while English-language alternative rock music played on various video screens around the stylishly dark dance floor. E. and I were ready to leave around the same time, so we walked to the colectivo-stop together. I arrived at home and splatted gratefully into bed.