Santiago, Part 2

Well, it's been a bit since I've updated this--it's hard to know where to start.

I think that our day at Cascada de las Animas is as good as any. It is a gorgeous nature preserve about an hour south of Santiago in the Maipo River Canyon. My friend Matt knows the owner's daughter, so I was lucky enough to tag along for the private tour. We arrived about 10 in the morning, and Fran took us to meet the family puma. No joke--the preserve is part animal refuge, and several years ago, the family took in a puma named Ouila, who was raised in captivity. Ouila is very tame, and often wanders unrestrained in the family's area of the park. (Fran tells a story about typing on her computer and looking up to see two large paws on the windowsill and Ouila peering inside her room.) Ouila lives in a large cage with a couple of puppy friends--and apparently he cries whenever the puppies leave. (However, Fran is suspicious that he is showing less benevolent interest in the family's new kitten.) He kills guinea pigs for sport, but only eats filet mignon. Coming up to my hip in height, he had the agility of a housecat, able to jump 10 feet from a standstill--everything about him oozed extraordinary power. Except his voice, that is--he had a meow more feeble and plaintive than any tomcat I have ever met.

Oulia was going to go on the hike with us, but it ended up being just Matt, Sebastian, and me with Kaila, Fran's enormously pregnant golden retriever. (While it would have made a good story, I can't say that I was terribly disappointed that Ouila stayed in her cage.) The four of us made our way up the side of the mountain, but after an hour and a half, Kaila had had enough. She started crying when we left her, so we ended up accompanying her back down to Fran's house instead of reaching the summit. The views were spectacular nonetheless--below you can see the "mesita," which provided a welcome break from the steep climb, with its horse barn and sprinklers.

When we reached the bottom, Fran had made lunch for us, which we enjoyed on the porch, with its own fantastic mountain vista and a "little puma." (The kitten fell asleep on my lap for an hour while we sipped herbal tea made from leaves Fran picked out of the garden--I couldn't have been happier.)

The following weekend, I had another fun outing to Santa Cruz, a city several hours south of Santiago, which is in the center of a major Chilean wine region. I went with two fellow Bostonians, Matt and Kaye-Lani, and the three of us enjoyed a picnic "a la gringo" in the Plaza de Armas of Santa Cruz. As we discovered later, not only was eating in the Plaza del Armas not socially acceptable, but we had topped off our lunch with some Chilean beers, which were illegal to drink in public. We perhaps should have been clued in with all of the locals' raised eyebrows...

We then visited Viu Manent, a well-established winery (some of the vines more than a century old). Apparently the domestic market for wine runs on the low-end (quantity over quality, I suppose--and I have seen the 5 liter jugs of red table wine to prove it), so a majority of the wine produced by Viu Manent is exported. Denmark is their largest market (pretty impressive for such a small country!). Because we had requested a tour in English, it ended up being a private tour for just the three of us. (The Spanish tour had about 15--one of the only advantages to being gringos . . .) Our guide led us outside to the horse-drawn carriage that was to drive us through the vineyards. As everything in Chile, the winery had gorgeous views of the Andes foothills in the distance.

Viu Manent grows a variety of grapes, including the "lost grape," Camenere. There was blight of the Camenere vines in France in the 1860s, and the variety was thought to be lost. However, in the mid-1990s, an astute French winemaker determined that an early-ripening Chilean Merlot was actually Carmenere. (The vines and fruits appear very similar.) Chile is nearly immune from the typical agricultural plights and plagues--it is bordered by deserts to the north, the Andes to the east, the ocean to the west, and Antartica to the south, so the grapes were unaffected by the European bug. (Apparently, Chile is so well protected that farmers are able to grow most of their crops without pesticides. It's no wonder that they are so careful at the border to check incoming travelers for agricultural products from outside.) Our guide took us inside the winery, where we tasted Carmenere directly from the barrel. It was good, but even my inexperienced palate could tell it was not quite ready . . . They use the metal barrels to process the less-high quality wines, and traditional French and American oak barrels for the better grapes. And all the production and bottling are done by hand at the winery--it was very impressive. They can produce 15,000 bottles a day, all in a 35'x25' room with a staff of 10.

We finished our day with tasting--first of the grapes (it is harvest season right now, so they are all ripe and absolutely delicious) and then of the wines. The bar tender liked us, so gave us seven "descansas," which was perhaps a bit overly generous of him, but as poor students, we weren't going to argue. . . Their tactic worked--I would confidently buy Viu Manent again. And with a bottle, some friends, and hunks of the incredible fresh Chilean bread, I could pass many happy hours.