Walk on

Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart

Walk on

During my research of the gay scene in Santiago I randomly stumbled across reviews for a walking tour that took in the sights of downtown Santiago, leaving each day from the Plaza de Armas at 10am and 2pm. The guides essentially worked for tips, the tour itself was free. I arrived in the Plaza de Armas at 9:45am and spotted the guide in his bright red jacket that said “Free Tour” in big white letters. He appeared to be alone (and cute). I waited a few minutes seeing if anyone else was going to turn up. At 9:50am I went over to him and said hello. He asked if I was here for the tour, I said I was. He introduced himself (Felipe) and we chatted for a while, he asked me where I was from and I told him, explaining I was on a year long round the world trip. I left out the 80 Gays part. My gaydar was a little off and I was having trouble working out whether or not he might be one of ours.

I thought that the tour might have been a very personal one but a couple of minutes before 10am a Brazilian couple joined us, followed shortly after by a woman from New Zealand. We set off on our tour. We covered some of the same places that I already seen on my own but this time I got some of the history. Felipe was a great tour guide, very enthusiastic and entertaining. He told us some great stories including how some of the local coffee shops used to/still do operate something called “Café con piernas” or “Coffee with legs”. Basically businessmen can go get a coffee at one of the places and be served by scantily clad women. Every so often the doors are locked and the blinds closed for a minute or two. Needless to say I didn’t get a coffee in one of those places so can’t say what happens when the blinds are closed. Felipe looked at the women in the group and said that there should be an equivalent coffee shop with scantily clad men for the women to go to. I tried not to nod in agreement.

Our tour took us past the Palacio de La Moneda, the seat of the President of Chile. There were guards in dress uniform outside the building. I had learned from the incident in the Casa Rosada museum and admired the guards whilst I was standing still so as to not walk into anything. I was too chicken to try and get a photo of them with Dean. Felipe lead us on through the financial district, amending our route slightly to avoid a rather large demonstration which was heading down the street towards us. We saw the Opera House, the damage from the earthquake of the previous year was still visible on some parts of the building. Having stopped for lunch and liquid refreshments our tour finally concluded over in the arty district of Santiago. Everyone thanked Felipe for the tour and I think he collected a decent tip from everyone in the group. He definitely deserved it.

Walk on

The tour had ended right near Cerro San Cristóbal, one of the highest points in the city. It was possible to walk up to the top of it but I opted for the funicular. I was joined by Sylvia, the lady from New Zealand who had been on the walking tour. The views from the top of San Cristóbal were stunning as was the open air church and amphitheatre, overlooked by a huge statue of Mary. By the time I had walked back to where I was staying I was shattered. I ate, and then slept, well.

The next day I took myself off out for a walk of some of the other places that we hadn’t covered on the previous days tour as well as finding my way to the gay neighbourhood. I had decided that I would go out and check out the scene that evening and wanted to see what it looked like in the day so I would know roughly where I was headed once night fell. I knew that Santiago would be like Buenos Aires and things wouldn’t get started until late so it was nearly 11pm by the time I headed out. Even though I left at a time when most places back home would be closing up for the night it was still fairly quiet in the first place I found, Bar 105. I had passed the place during my daytime recce but had assumed it had closed down as the outside was boarded up and there was graffiti across the walls. However, it was very much open.

With hope in your heart

The inside was infinitely nicer than the outside and could have easily passed for a little wine bar in Soho. I ordered a beer, opting for the local brew, Kunstmann. I was certain that that would pose a few pronunciation problems once I had had a few drinks. I found a seat at a table and people watched for a little while. I had done better than Rio, having actually made it inside the bar. I was still sober enough to know that I wasn’t going to be able to approach people. I suddenly felt 14 years younger, as though I had been transported back to the days when I was first going on the gay scene in Sheffield (which at the time consisted of two bars and one nightclub). I can still vividly remember the first time I ever went to The Cossack. I can remember what I had to drink, what I was wearing, who I talked to and loads of other small details about that night. I bet most gay people (at least of my generation) can remember that night. It is a big thing to finally do.

Bar 105

I had given myself two beers in which to talk to someone, or more accurately, in which to hope someone came to talk to me. As I got towards the bottom of my second beer the barmen asked if I wanted another. I had sat there on my own for a while so I decided I would call it a night. I must have stood out as a tourist and nobody seemed like they were going to talk to me. I asked for the bill. In between asking for it and it arriving a couple of guys finally came over to talk to me. They spoke in English, it was that obvious that I was not a local. The couple turned out to not be a couple, but friends, Juan & Alejandro. Just as we were chatting the barman brought my bill over. They told me I should stay for another drink so I did. The barman was very kind, taking my bill away and returning with a beer.

I stayed out for a while with my new friends. I spoke a little in Spanish but we mainly chatted in English. When it came time to leave they asked how I was getting home. I said that despite the fact that I was only staying a 10 minute walk away I would get a taxi to be safe. They waited outside the bar with me until a taxi with its light on appeared and we could flag it down. I thanked them and got into the taxi, asking the driver to take me back home. I think I chatted in Spanish for a little while with the taxi driver although I am not sure he understood what I was saying. I’m not entirely sure I understood what I was saying. However, I was proud of myself for having made it out alone on the gay scene in Santiago.

The remaining time before I left was finishing off a few tourist places I had yet to visit, such as the Museum of Fine Arts, which had some great collections despite a number of the rooms still being closed because of the earthquake. I had a few more walks around the city making the most of a sudden warm spell in the weather that meant I could walk round in shorts and the locals could not bother with a scarf and gloves. My final evening I enjoyed a home cooked dinner, packed my case while listening to the BBC radio and got myself ready to head back to Buenos Aires where I had been enchanted by the city and had been offered a couple of places to stay.

“Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart” 
Lyrics from You’ll Never Walk Alone from the musical Carousel