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Tag: Loyola Study Abroad
Fourth Time’s the Charm

Fourth Time’s the Charm

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Ciao tutti! My name is Aleksandra Wysocki, but please, know me as my Polish nickname, Ola. It’s what I’ve been called my entire life and it was one of the reasons I chose to study Italian vs. Spanish (because Hola, me llamo Ola! seemed a bit annoying to me…. Okay, that’s not the reason I chose to study Italian, but it’s definitely one of them).

Moving on.

This is my fourth time in the eternal city. I’ve been lucky enough in my life to have been here three times previously; six weeks during the summer when I was thirteen years old, a winter break vacation when I was fourteen, and a ten day choral tour through Loyola this past summer. Disregarding the most recent trip, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve grown up a lot both physically (thankfully, because middle school me had a lot of work to get to where I am now) and emotionally between my previous visits and now. I look at the world in a different way than I did back when I was thirteen and (hopefully) people see me differently.

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Ola a Roma, natale 2010.
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Assisi. giugno 2015.

You may be wondering why Roma again? Why not somewhere new? Well… I’ve definitely thought about it, to be honest. There are a lot of places I could have gone, but yet, I’ve always gone back to the thought of living it up in la citta eterna.

Despite being here before, I can’t tell you street names where certain things are. I can’t tell you where the best gelato is (although right now Giolitti’s is at the top of my list) or where you can get the best dish of bucatini all’amatriciana (it’s to die for). I don’t know all of the names of the neighborhoods other than Trastevere, Centocelle (where I happen to have family, which is the reason I’ve been here before) and now Balduina, thanks to being a student at the JFRC.

During my last trip here this past summer, I got the opportunity to travel outside of Rome. Thanks to the generosity of the university, Loyola’s choir got to not only stay at the JFRC, but travel to Napoli, Pompeii, Assisi and Firenze and for the first time, I got to travel around Italy without my family. I didn’t only stay in the touristy areas of cities. I got the opportunity to explore on my own and with people my age, and for me that was life changing.

That is why Roma again. I want to better my Italian and to spend time with my family here as well, but I truly love Italian culture. I love their way of life, at least what I perceive it to be. I want to discover this beautiful nation personally. If I can see other places in Europe, that’d be amazing too, but my focus will be Roma. Not only will I be interning at an Italian film production company (which I’m psyched for) but I’m also hoping to tutor Italian students with English.

I’m excited to be back and see where this adventures will take me! Jet lag and orientations have rendered me ridiculously tired these first few days and I feel like I’ve been running on adrenaline. Yet, that exhaustion isn’t complete, as I’ve been out almost every other night, chilling in Piazza del Popolo and eating some delicious pizza. The beach trip to Maccarese was also a blast, despite the fact that it resulted in a slightly sunburnt Ola.

To wrap up this somewhat long post (I’m actually quite surprised with myself, seeing how much I ended up writing) as mensa just opened up and I’m quite hungry, here are two pictures from my Sunday walk in the city center with some new friends.

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Bucatini all’amatriciana. Definitely order it if you love yourself. Originally, it was known as more of a poor man’s dish, because it was so simple and had few ingredients, but I see it as more of a triumphant ode to simplicity, as IT IS DELICIOUS.
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Hidden corner off of via Cavour.

P.S. If you want a more in depth look at my adventures/more pictures, feel free to follow my personal blog at https://olawysockiphotography.wordpress.com/!

Authentic London

Authentic London

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Hello my lovely readers!

       Well, I’m making a go of becoming a true Londoner and I think I’m making some real progress! I’ve started to feel true annoyance at those who stand on the wrong side of tube escalators (the left side is reserved exclusively for those willing to risk their lives on the incredibly long and steep escalators to be on time), I now wear scarves as stylized, belted blankets in order to fend off the damp chills of February, and I have tried every type of cider I can think of at every type of pub. I also eat sandwiches multiple times a day, I am addicted to Cadbury chocolate Oreo bars (& had a moment of genuine panic at the Cadbury ban in America), and I have blown the dust off of my two years of Deutsch, much to the entertainment of a few German friends. But perhaps, most importantly, I have finally started discovering the fun, authentic, and commonplace pasttimes of my British neighbors!

 

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Midway through the week, I ventured out to appease on of my favorite guilty pleasures at an independent bookstore. The London Review Bookstore is the most wonderful place- no one tried to rush me out the door once I found what I was looking for, there are chairs in the basement to sample your reading material, and, most charmingly of all, I happened in on one of their monthly Late Night shopping events and was offered a complimentary glass of wine for my trouble. It was the perfect way to spend a Wednesday night.

 

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I also spent quite a lot of time at the V&A Museum with my sister, which is often skipped during short visits to London; however, Taylor and I both found the museum and its exhibits to be truly incredible- so much so that we will be headed back soon to see what we didn’t have time for.

On a slightly more important note, we also tried our first authentic dessert at the beautiful cafe. The scone I ate (my first one!) certainly would have been life-altering, had the stain glassed windows and luxurious atmosphere of the cafe itself hadn’t already done it. Not to mention I almost shed a tear at Taylor’s perfect Victorian sponge cake. 10/10 would recommend making this stop a priority.

 

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Finally, I am a true sucker for the ambiance of a building; therefore, I have begun my search for the perfect study space.

So far the Reading Room of the Wellcome Center is taking first with its plush staircase littered with pillows and its interactive distractions. If you need a break from Tolstoy, there are truly terrifying dentistry tools to examine, straightjackets to try on, and a postcard table to tell your mom about all the fun you’re having.

A close second is the British Library, where one can ogle original Charlotte Bronte manuscripts, Leonardo Da Vinci notebooks, and unfinished Beethoven pieces. I just went through the rather rigorous process of getting my own Reading Pass this afternoon -I had high hopes that the countless esteemed individuals whose work is on display would give me the strength to focus on the “study” in study abroad 😉

 

Tomorrow I am heading off to Cambridge to see what else the UK has to offer! Stay tuned 🙂

-Megan

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun(ghi)!

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun(ghi)!

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“Oh, when the working week is done, oh girls just want to have funghi! Oooh, girls just wanna have funghi!”

My very own version of that feel good classic was swirling around my head the entire weekend as we climbed our way through the mountainous terrain around Cuano Mutri to devour some mushrooms. All Cyndi Lauper puns aside, this weekend was most definitely the best I’ve had in awhile…and I’ve been living in Rome for the past 5 weeks so that’s saying something! There are so many differences between Cusano and Rome, it’s almost like comparing apples to oranges. In a way, Cusano Mutri felt more authentic. I was not greeted in English, but *gasp* Italian! You would think living in Rome this would be common, but the constant tourist population definitely hinders any Italian language exchange. I fell in love with the small town atmosphere immediately and embraced the full mushroom menu I enjoyed all weekend. I am not exactly the outdoorsy type, so this was definitely an adventure in more ways than one.

Most of the weekend was planned around what were described as “novice hikes,” AKA: something even this athletically challenged, city-goer could handle. Well, what started as a leisurely stroll through a forest preserve on day one suddenly shifted gears into an intense, rocky climb on day two. Our guide for the second climb was hardly breaking a sweat as our group ascended 1,500 feet up hill. I’m convinced that this temporarily closed ski slope we were traversing was at least a 75 degree incline at all times, or at least that’s what my calves were telling me 15 minutes into our hike. Where were we climbing to you ask? To the top of the world:

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A view like that was worth every bead of sweat and rock I tripped on getting to the top.

Throughout our trip, SO MANY mushrooms were eaten. I’m convinced my fellow JFRC members and I cleaned out the entire harvest ourselves. Each course we had included mushrooms in some way, from mushroom gnocchi to polenta in a tomato and mushroom sauce. There was no shortage of funghi that’s for sure! This fungal feast continued into the small vendors throughout Cusano Mutri. There were mushroom and truffle cheeses to be enjoyed! Cured sweet and spicy sausages to be devoured! Nutella doughnuts and various cakes to conclude our meals! And most importantly regional liquor to be tried, including fragolino. What was described as a strawberry wine, would be a closer relative to limoncello in my opinion. Now I mentioned previously that breakfast is not a huge deal in Italy contrary to what every American mother preaches. Being a breakfast connoisseur, I was initially weary of being without eggs and a huge coffee to start my day off. However, this weekend I was fully converted believing in an Italian breakfast. I’m convinced the woman who ran our cabins was a saint. Each morning, at 8:30 precisely, she would open the dining room and serve us a breakfast of freshly made cornetti (chocolate, cream, and marmalade filled), juice, and individually made cappuccinos and espresso. Divine intervention was surely the cause of such a magnificent spread.

Small town Italian culture is something I’m incredibly happy to have experienced first hand. The feeling of an entire town coming together to celebrate a harvest is overwhelmingly beautiful. Wine makers, farmers, local cooks, and townspeople all come together to celebrate the mushroom harvest as well as their own local products. Cusano Mutri wholeheartedly welcomed our group and treated us like members of their community, which I am grateful for. I’ll never get the insight to such an integral part of Italian culture as I did this weekend. Here’s to mushrooms and memories made at Cusano Mutri!

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Old Habits Die Hard

Old Habits Die Hard

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“Vorrei un caffe per favore” (meaning I’d like one coffee please) has become a cherished phrase in the land of cappuccinos and afternoon macchiatos. Milk is considered taboo to drink after noon, so ordering a cappuccino at 3pm not only designates your nationality but your inability to adjust to the Italian mindset, which also has its own set of quirks. One of these being reliability. I often question how Italians get anywhere on time but then I realized they don’t! Blessed be the days of using the CTA because ATAC (Rome’s public transportation service) has many things to be desired. Sometimes the bus arrives every 30 minutes. Sometimes the bus simply does not come and when it does your bus driver might have an agenda of his own that does not involve stopping anywhere near where you wanted.

Becoming familiar with Rome makes you feel like a freshman again. Most students tend to roam in packs in an effort to explore, because being alone in a foreign city is something the consulate strongly frowns upon. Nobody wants to be the lead actress in a Taken remake set in Italy. Another added layer of anxiety is the ever present state of being lost. Every time I’ve been lost, however, I’ve come across something I was destined to find. Rome has a way of producing breathtaking architecture and monuments out of thin air. One moment you’re searching a map to find the nearest 990 bust stop and the next you’re bumping into the Pantheon on accident. Another short stroll and you’re reliving the Lizzie Maguire movie at the Trevi Fountain. Not having GPS or Google maps on my phone is definitely a double edged sword I’ve become a professional at wielding.

I think most people, like myself, find comfort in routine. In an effort to retain some normalcy I’ve been frequenting the same places throughout Rome. Once a week I try to go to my favorite neighborhood bar, Il Siciliano, for a much needed caffeine boost and a cornetto of course. I’ve also become a regular at Frigidarium, the best gelato place I’ve had thus far. How many times I go there any given weekend is something I will take to the grave.

Although cutting down on how many vats of coffee I drink each day and coming to terms with being perpetually late has been rough, the past three weeks have opened my eyes to all that studying abroad has to offer. Everyone has a different strategy for independent travel while abroad. It honestly comes down to a quantity versus quality approach. I’ve heard of people traveling almost every free weekend they have to get “the most” out of their time abroad. I plan on staying in Rome for most of my weekends this semester to get to know Rome well opposed to just seeing as many countries as I can. If I can leave Rome three months from now with enough knowledge to show family and friends around the city I have accomplished my goal.

Until next time,

Veronica

Il Siciliano is a gem.
Il Siciliano is a gem.
Pantheon!
Pantheon!
Breaking Up (with the U.S.) is Hard to Do

Breaking Up (with the U.S.) is Hard to Do

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Recently, I broke up with the United States. After a 20 (almost 21!) year long, committed relationship with only one brief break (to test my feelings for China) it was time to move on. Comfortable relationships are fun, don’t get me wrong. The United States understands me on a level that I’m not sure my new love, Italy, will ever be able to. The U.S. knows that I want a big cup of coffee in the morning, the bus to come on time, and for stores to be open at the reasonable hour of 1 p.m.

Nevertheless, I have to hand it to Italy for catching onto my love for cute side streets, spiraling ivy on brick buildings, intense shots of caffeine, and carbs, lots and lots of carbs.

Any change in life, especially with relationships (particularly those with one’s home country) brings a necessary adjustment of the body and mind, and traveling abroad for the next 3 months has been no exception to this rule. Upon my arrival in the country of wine and pasta, I noticed that a little thing that we in the Unites States like to call “punctuality” is simply optional and frequently opted out of.

As a person who is consistently 30 minutes early to class, gets anxiety when leaving for a destination a little later than planned, and thinks being on time is being late, this aspect of Italian culture has been quite a challenge for me.

On one particular day, as I set out for my first on-site class, Art in Rome,  the bus simply did not come for 45 minutes. I had initially left campus before 8 o’clock for the 9:30 class with the intentions of being early enough to grab a cappuccino before the lesson began. However, standing there at the stop with about 20 other Rome Center students, I started to realize that this simply was not going to be possible. 10 minutes passed and I was still optimistic, but once we hit the 20 minute mark I became frantic to get on a bus. One after another the wrong bus passed, and I contemplated jumping on one, despite not knowing where it was headed, in an effort to simply go somewhere, anywhere.

Eventually, after almost an hour, the correct bus (the 990) turned the corner to the stop and the crowd of us began cheering at the sight of our salvation. We were all about ten minutes late to our class at the Roman Forum and Colosseum, but our teacher was very understanding, as the bus situation in Rome is a bit spotty. I realize now how thankful I am for the CTA in Chicago and will likely never complain about waiting 10 minutes for the Red Line to come ever again.

So yes, this break up has been very hard to do. I miss the familiarity and reliability of the United State’s public transportation system, and I certainly miss Chicago, the city that probably will always have my heart. Yet, Rome, thus far, has been an exhilarating adventure I would not give up for anything. What this new love may bring, we have yet to really know. Time however, time will tell of all the excitement to come.

Until next time, ciao!

Colosseum

Summertime at the Summer Palace

Summertime at the Summer Palace

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Miami. Chicago. Beijing. I am definitely a girl that enjoys the city life. The hustle and bustle always motivates me to get out and join the pleasantly pushy people party, as I now like to call it. Whenever I am feeling down in a city it is nice to be able to look around and realize how much is going on. It makes it easier to not sulk and worry about the small things. My love for cities will always be strong, but a calming break every once in a while has its advantages. I enjoy jet skiing in Miami, barbecuing on the beach of Lake Michigan, and now relaxing on dragon-shaped boats at the Summer Palace.

Secluded and Serene, the Summer Palace is the ideal escape from the ever so active and populated Beijing. It truly amazes me how it sort of hides in plain sight. It is a little piece of paradise in the middle of the chaos. For lack of a better term, I will admit I was feeling a little “body of water” sick and this haven was definitely what the doctor ordered.

Once I was inside the grounds of the Summer Palace, I immediately thought to myself that the Qing emperors really knew how to enjoy themselves. The place gives off the feeling of actually overflowing with palaces, pavilions, temples, and beautiful landscapes. These gorgeously constructed attributes are perfectly placed around a peaceful lake. Exploring the buildings can be challenging at first, due to the uneven steps and rocks, but it definitely made me feel more adventurous. And of course it made the boat ride on the lake an even bigger reward. The ride across the lake allowed for some really great photos.

I could definitely not complete this post without acknowledging one of the impressive parts of my experience, encountering and admiring a certain group of Chinese women…the heel-wearers. Climbing up and down the steep stairs presented itself as a challenge to me in my Toms. I kept thinking to myself, “Why didn’t you just wear your sneakers? Come on Allison.” But then those once obvious thoughts became a little less obvious and more confused when I started noticing the sheer number of Chinese women in heels exploring the uneven palace. I lost count. There were the occasional ones who were dressed up for some sort of modeling shoot, but that was the minority. Chinese women really do commit to the idea that pain is gain in fashion. Props to them!

Two down, Two to go!

Two down, Two to go!

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你好! I have officially been living and studying in Beijing for two weeks and have two more weeks to go! I have to admit that I can’t believe it’s already the third week, it really has flown by. I have looked forward to going to China for as long as I can remember and thanks to China Encounter it was made a reality. These weeks have been filled with fun and fascinating trips to popular tourist spots, restaurants, and “real Beijing” locations.

My goal before coming to China was to really dive into Beijing. This is my first time travelling abroad and I really wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone. Whenever I am out and about in Beijing, I always think to myself “People, Places, and Food!”. Yes, this thought may be broad, but whenever I get a little overwhelmed and a feeling of culture shock comes upon me, I remind myself that I want to learn, see, taste, and really enjoy everything relating to the Chinese culture. So far I believe I have succeeded! Although I wish I could spend all day discussing everything, I know that would make for a not so enthralling blog so I have decided to make a few entries with some of my favorite highlights. I will start off with one of my favorite food experiences.

Food checklist: Peking Duck and Hot pot. In preparing for my arrival in Beijing I made a very small food checklist. Of course I knew I would try many different meals that I haven’t heard of, but Peking duck and hotpot were a must do, well actually a must eat. As of now I can check one item off the list: Hot pot! I will admit, I did have high expectations for hot pot, but this experience completely blew me away. Last week, a group of us headed to a hot pot restaurant a few blocks away from campus led by some UIBE Chinese students. I was excited but did not realize what would come next. The host greeted us at the door and took us up the elevator and into the restaurant. There was a room next to the restaurant, where guests were welcome to partake in FREE MANICURES! The service was top notch. We were even given aprons to wear and ziplock baggies to protect our phones.Two boiling pots of broth were placed in front of the twelve of us, and then we dug in. The assortment of food included: shrimp, beef, lamp, potatoes, noodles, tofu, and a few more items that were very tasty, although I am still not sure what they were. I definitely let my adventurous side take over. We all gathered around the pots cooking our food while being entertained by masked dancers and noodles throwers. This was definitely an experience I will never forget.

Hot Pot!
Hot pot!
The Beijing Center
The Beijing Center
Las Marchas

Las Marchas

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During the past two weeks there have been two protests here in Santiago. They are called marchas and are basically a parade full of people that march in protest for some cause. On May 1 there is a march every year for the workers of Chile. Many workers gather with their coworkers, groups of friends, or people from their school and together they march down Alameda (the main street in downtown Santiago) with signs, shouts, and music. We had school off that day so I went to the march just to watch and take some pictures.

The first thing I noticed is how dead downtown was. There was hardly any activity besides the march. All of the stores were closed (probably due to the combination of the march and Labor Day) and the streets were blocked off with no cars. There were not nearly as many people walking on the sidewalks as usual, although there were some. The people were either meeting with their friends and going to the march or were like me and just taking pictures or filming it. There were lots of police officers in various parts of downtown. Some blocked off streets in riot gear, some patrolled the area on motorcycles, and others monitored the march, walking with the protesters in the very front and the very back.

I picked my spot in front of Universidad de Chile, which was about the halfway point of the march. The demonstrators started at metro Los Heroes (right next to my university) and would finish at Plaza Italia. I had no intention of going to Plaza Italia. Many Chileans warned me that there is often violence and problems there because the police and protesters always fight at the end. Most of the people marching wanted more rights for workers, such as pensions, less hours, things like that. A lot of them were communists – most people were wearing red and there were a decent number of communist flags being waved about. I also saw a lot of Mapuche flags (the main indigenous tribe of Chile).

It was cool to see the march but it was not anything mind-blowing. At one point I thought a gas grenade exploded. There was a loud noise and about 100 feet in front of me there was white gas all in the air. I prepared myself to run into the metro and leave, but turns out it was only white powder, and not gas. It dyed the ground white and the march continued on uninterrupted. At the end of the march, there were a group of anarchists marching, mostly young people. This really shocked me. They were dressed in all black and legitimately promote anarchy with the A symbol and everything. I didn’t notice it at the moment, but when I was leaving I saw they had spray painted graffiti on the walls of the buildings with their phrases and symbol. I am almost positive that they are the ones that cause trouble with the police at the end.

Fortunately, mi primera marcha passed without incident. The second one, however, was a different story. The student march happened a week later on this past Thursday. I was not going to go to this one, because the student marches are typically more dangerous and a lot bigger than the workers’ march. In Chile, students are fighting for free and quality education at the university level. The president, Michelle Bachelet, has promised to make college free for students during her second term, which she just began serving in March. Many students, however, do not believe her attempts are sincere and think that her plan is flawed as well. Thus they take to the streets to voice their discontent.

My history classes were canceled for the day. At Universidad Alberto Hurtado, the students of each major vote to see if they will go to the march or not. If the no’s win, they go to class instead of the march. If the yes’s win, they go to the march and send the professor an email telling them that nobody will be going to class. The history students voted yes, so naturally I didn’t have class. The march went well until the end, when some young bandits caused some trouble. These people are similar to the anarchists, they wear all black, have their hoods up, and place bandanas over their faces so only their eyes show. Apparently, they go to some marches just to fight with the police at the end.

At the end, they threw some molotov cocktails at the police, who threw back gas grenades, and the scuffle began. Many police officers were hurt and most of these bandits were detained. By this time, the students had filed into a park for a concert that marked the end of the march, so they were not involved in the fight. The conflict was all over the news and in the newspaper.

Disclaimer: This does not mean Chile is a dangerous country. I have felt extremely safe here and have had little to no problems with my personal safety. The marches typically only have conflict in the end, yet it does not affect the majority of the protesters nor the majority of the police. On Thursday, nobody was seriously injured.

To conclude, it has been very interesting and informative to see these marches. To me, these rarely happen in the U.S., and when they do they definitely don’t have this type of conflict. In Chile, the marches are fairly common. These marches happen at least once a month for various reasons, and in 2011 there were a great number of student marches. Because of this, they are in the news, people talk about them, and las marchas have become another part of Chilean culture.

Cajon de Maipo

Cajon de Maipo

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Last weekend, Theo and I went camping in Cajon de Maipo, a valley in the Andes about an hour away from Santiago. We got there on Thursday afternoon after taking a bus from the end of the metro. Unfortunately for us, it was May 1, or Día del Trabajador, also known as Labor Day. Due to this, all of the main grocery stores were closed, forcing us to buy our food from an overpriced convenient store. A nice girl on the bus gave us some advice on where to go and what to do in the valley. She recommended going to El Morado, a glacier just off the border from Argentina.

The bus took us to San Jose de Maipo where we bought a little more food and went to check out the tourist center. As we expected, it was closed, leaving us with only the girl’s information on what to do. Like good travelers, Theo and I did hardly any research about Cajon de Maipo. We only knew how to arrive to San Jose and from there we were winging it. From my experience, traveling works out better this way. You never know what to expect and a lot of surprising and cool things end up happening.

We hitchhiked (which is perfectly legal, common, and safe in Chile) from San Jose heading deeper into the Andes and closer to the mountains. Along the way when we told people we were going to El Morado we got some strange responses. A woman in San Jose told us we were very brave men to be doing this, especially with the weather (it was raining all day). Later when we were deeper and higher up in the mountains a taxi driver stopped and asked us where we were going. After telling him, he asked if we were prepared, warning us that it’s dangerous and we should notify the police that we were going there in case something happens!

Wow! At this point we started to think what is El Morado? We definitely were not prepared for any intensely cold weather. We did not have winter hats or gloves and Theo’s tent is not made to camp in the snow. We started to have second thoughts but decided to keep going until Baños Morales, where the park entrance to El Morado is and where we could get more information. At around 6PM, we stopped at a man’s house who lets people camp in his yard. Fortunately, he let us spend the night in his house. His name was Josepe and he helped us out a bunch! He let us stay inside, gave us food, made us a fire, brought us mattresses, and then played guitar with us for two hours!

In the morning, I woke up and looked outside to an incredible view! Less than a kilometer away on each side of the house stood mountains with the top third covered in snow. Outside the house there was a flock of sheep, with sheep dogs and shepherds directing them, and a flock of goats fenced in. There were also pigs, horses, chickens, and dogs. It was pretty much a farm for animal husbandry. Josepe told us that another man owns the animals and uses them for milk (to make cheese) and wool mostly. On top of his generosity, Josepe made us breakfast and let us keep our backpacks in his house while we continued on our hike.

We walked the eight kilometers to Baños Morales on the dirt road surrounded by beautiful scenery. This was a Chile I had never seen before. It was very rural, with about a house every 400 meters that usually had some flock of animals. There were little to no cars, only big trucks passing us by that were working on construction up ahead. At one point, a man even passed us riding his horse and accompanied by two dogs. He greeted us in a very thick, mountain accent that was tough to understand, which we laughed about and imitated later. It was a beautiful morning, clear of rain, cloudy and with fresh, unpolluted air (unlike Santiago). We were also ascending deeper into the mountains and it was getting colder and colder because of the altitude.

We reached Baños Morales, a cute little town built on the summer tourism season from El Morado and las termas (the hot springs). Unfortunately, the park was closed due to the rain. Every time it rains there is a chance of rock and mud slides and they close the park for a few days. A little disappointed that we couldn’t get to El Morado, we went to las termas instead. That was even more disappointing. The hot springs were man-made pools with water running from pipes into the pools. Furthermore, the water wasn’t even hot – it was room temperature. With it being probably 40 degrees, starting to rain and no clothes to change into, we didn’t get in. A Chilean couple did though, although they did not stay in for long.

We hitchhiked back, stopped at Josepe’s to pick up our bags and said goodbye to him. He gave us a big, warm, circle loaf of bread as a gift (check my Facebook pictures) and told us to come back and stay there again. He was very nice and we thanked him many times for everything he did for us. For the day we hopped around the valley, checking out the small towns and trying to find a spot to camp. Finally we camped under some trying conditions (nighttime, no lighter, limited food and water) a little bit past San Jose. In the morning we tried to find a trail to hike but to no avail, so we hitchhiked back to Santiago.

Overall, I had a great time in Cajon de Maipo and am really glad I went. It was my first time in la Cordillera (the Andes) and I saw a part of Chile completely different from what I had already experienced. Once again, my travels have given me with many stories to tell and have introduced me to amazingly kind and wonderful people.