Cortados to you too.

There you are, wandering aimlessly about, minding your own business and trying to get your bearings in a strange city, when history suddenly reminds you that it happened in South America too. For an Englishman, and a European to boot (both completely accidental - thank heavens), it was a surprise to round a corner and be confronted by the Palacio de la Moneda.
The memory of Allende's sunglassed visage drove any thought of holiday sun cream from my mind, instigating a crash course in Latin American history that lasted three days. For now I'm just going to bore you by saying that democracy really is a good idea. If only we had the sense to use it properly. Perhaps that should say, if only our chosen leaders had the sense to use their power properly. Although we are the ones who choose them, are we not.
Anyway, Santiago is a city in Chile and it has the good sense to serve your morning coffee with a pretty lady. So there's that. Reasonably, it will expect you to know some Spanish but even if you don't, buying a pair of shoes can be accomplished with ease. Just don't tell anyone that all you wanted was the password for the wifi.
Nevertheless, and this is likely to be an accident of geography, Santiago de Chile suffers from a shortage of maps, not to mention book shops. This may be my fault, searching through book shops when I should have been frequenting Tattoo parlours (of which there are a surprising amount). For someone about to start cycling around a very hot country, this became a worrisome concern. Nevertheless thanks to the magic of the Internet, a thorough analysis of the route enough times etched it immovably in the mind.
I can't help but think that a lack of maps must lead to a lack of adventure. It's either that or there just aren't enough roads to justify the expense. This brings me too the oddest thing about Chile. It's dimensions are frighteningly difficult to defend. I know it has the Andes on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other but really, defending it against invasion must play on one's mind a little. I bet I could invade it myself in at least half a dozen places and no-one would notice.
But we're not here to hang around in bars and coffe shops. We are here to cycle to Mendoza. A somewhat modest goal but one that requires going uphill a lot in searing heat. Precious, as always, sits patiently waiting for me to stop being lazy. Frankly though, I am on holiday and I think I'm going to enjoy this one.