Chile: François’ Travel Reflections

THE HAIRY GIRAFFE… IN CHILE

After a two weeks in Chile and Easter Island, it’s time to reflect. How did we experience this journey? What were our joys, disappointments, questions, doubts, and discoveries? This is not merely an assessment of a country but rather of a trip—how we perceived it individually and subjectively.

François’ Travel Reflections

Our thirteenth destination on our world tour, we begin our journey in Chile with some apprehension.

The first: safety. Latin America is not known for being a very safe region, especially when you look like a foreigner.

Snatch thefts or armed robberies are more common here than in the West. Luggage disappearing on public transport or children crawling under bus seats to slash a bag placed on the ground and help themselves as if it were a piñata are not myths.

The memory of our stay in Brazil is still too fresh in our minds. We remember all too well the streets of São Paulo, where buildings are secured with bars, guards, and electric wires. We also remember Copacabana Beach, where locals buried their personal belongings in the sand before lying on top of them to reduce temptation. Nor have we forgotten the shady characters hanging around everywhere.

The second: often poor hygiene. We still have images in our heads of raw chickens basking in the sun all day along a dusty street in Huaraz, Peru. We dread food poisoning to the highest degree. In over seven months of travel, we’ve managed to avoid it—it would be a shame to ruin the end of our journey.

The last one: the scam. Once again, scamming tourists is a common practice in Latin America. Prices set based on the customer’s appearance (tough luck if you’re Western), endless haggling with vendors just to get a fair price for a trinket clearly made in China, mysterious charges appearing on a bill… Of course, this isn’t exclusive to this region. We’ve played along in Egypt, India, Myanmar, Indonesia… While it might be amusing for a few minutes, I quickly get tired of it and frustrated. After traveling through countries where people are honest and straightforward, like Taiwan, China, Japan, or Australia, I have no desire to dive back into a place where scams have almost become part of the culture.

Seeing all these fears, it would be logical to wonder why we chose to go through South America? Why put ourselves through all this? The answer comes in two parts.

The first reason is practicality. To properly complete a world tour, you have to fly over two oceans. If we were to turn back from Auckland and fly westward to return home, we wouldn’t have completed a “world tour”—just a very long journey through Asia. So, we need to continue traveling eastward. From New Zealand, transpacific flight options are limited. The choice of our arrival destination ties into the second aspect of the decision: novelty.

Through this journey, we chose to explore new parts of the world. Every destination was a source of discovery and novelty. Except for Japan, which Benjamin had already visited, we only traveled to countries we had never been to before. Keeping this logic in mind, stopping in the United States or Canada was not an option, as we had already visited those countries multiple times.

So, with our minds filled with all our concerns, we land in Santiago. I must admit, we were pleasantly surprised. Clearly displayed prices—meaning the same for everyone—functioning refrigerators and freezers where meat and dairy products are properly stored, relatively clean streets… I wasn’t expecting that. Even walking through the streets of Santiago, we feel much safer than in Rio or Lima.

Of course, our level of vigilance isn’t as low as when strolling through Auckland, Sydney, or Tokyo, but we’re also not constantly scanning our surroundings every four seconds like hunting dogs on high alert. We even dare to take out a camera (though kept securely around our necks) in Plaza de Armas and the surrounding streets. In San Pedro, it’s even better—we have no concerns about wandering around the streets.

It’s much easier to explore a city or a country when you don’t feel like you’re going to be robbed at every step.

That being said, what is Chile like?

While Santiago seemed a bit bland to me, I absolutely loved the Atacama Desert. Sure, landing in Santiago with a view of the Andes is quite impressive. Walking through the streets of the capital and seeing the snow-capped peaks is nice… as long as the air quality allows it. And… that’s about it. Santiago doesn’t have much to offer.

On the other hand, driving through the Atacama Desert feels almost timeless. You’re alone for miles on the road, taking in the breathtaking landscapes. You marvel at colorful lagoons and salt flats. You greet three vicuñas. You simply enjoy the present moment. It’s peaceful and relaxing, especially when you’re lucky enough to visit during a non-touristy period.

And what about Easter Island?

I had placed Easter Island on a pedestal before arriving. Since it was part of Polynesia, I somewhat naively expected to find all the elements that had so deeply charmed me during our stay in French Polynesia. I expected to find that warmth and welcoming spirit so characteristic of Polynesians. I hoped to feel the mana again (that spiritual energy present throughout Polynesia) as I had sensed it at sacred sites in the Society Islands and the Marquesas. I wanted to experience that familiar sadness upon leaving the island—a sign that I had felt at home and wished to stay longer.

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed. The Polynesian influence has been overshadowed by South American influence. The welcome we received in hotels, shops, and restaurants felt colder—more in line with what we experienced on the mainland rather than the warmth we found throughout Polynesia. On Easter Island, I felt more like a walking wallet expected to spend freely (often for lower-quality service) than a valued guest.

I particularly remember the owner of our guesthouse doing us a “favor” by offering a discounted price for a traditional dance show. That was fine, but then he asked me to pay him right away—while the show had already been running for more than ten minutes. That felt a bit off.

Sure, the moai are magnificent. Some sites are downright impressive. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to feel the magic of the place the way I did when discovering a Tahitian marae. I couldn’t quite connect with the island’s soul, despite my best efforts.

I’m a huge fan of Polynesian culture—to the point that I even have part of it tattooed on my skin. I smiled, threw in the few Polynesian words I know, and told anyone who would listen that I had been to Tahiti and the Marquesas. I marveled at every moai, tiki, or other representation of a deity. But it rarely made an impression. In return, I got simple “Holàs,” discreet smiles, indifferent expressions, and blank stares. While I felt truly welcome in French Polynesia, on Easter Island, I just felt like an ordinary tourist.

Is Chile Worth Visiting?

Yes, definitely. This is the most comfortable country in Latin America I’ve visited so far. While Santiago is quite unremarkable, the Atacama Desert and its breathtaking landscapes are absolutely worth the trip. Any traveler passing through Chile should also extend their itinerary to Easter Island. The moai statues are impressive, and some sites are truly stunning. However, it’s best to see this trip as an exotic extension of Chile rather than a Polynesian escape—otherwise, you might come back disappointed.