We started with a tour of the Undurraga winery, a short drive west of Santiago. This is one of the oldest in the country and one of the biggest. We were shown around by the improbably named Victor Hugo and given an in-depth tour of the entire process. They're more European in their approach than the Californian wineries, and there were also plenty of jokes at Argentina's expense. Some professional rivalry there.
From this high-class establishment we returned to the city, dropped the kids, picked up Ignacio, and made our way to Fuente Alamana, a crazy hot dog restaurant in the heart of the financial district. The place was packed, with besuited businessmen fighting for a seat at the white Formica bar to stuff themselves with sausages smothered in avocado, house-made mayonnaise and tomato ("Italian" - red, white and green, see?) Almost as good for you as chorillana, Ignacio managed an impressive two while the rest of us settled for one.
Hannah and I walked around the Providencia district until we found our way home for a nap and a final goodbye meal with Raimundo and Tere, who are off south for the long independence weekend. This time we found ourselves at the more classy Barcelona restaurant, although they still served a drink that was a mix of lemon juice, black pepper and beer, with salt around the rim of the glass. "It's traditional," Tere told us, but as she's the one who forced me to have a Terremoto I don't trust her anymore.
Since meeting all the Latins during Hannah's MBA I've been told many stories of nights out starting at 10pm and going on until 6 or 7 in the morning. Hence the napping this afternoon. Perhaps it's a sign of maturity (read: old age), or maybe that four people at the table had children to get home to, but we were all done by a respectable midnight. We're seeing Pete and Fini for dinner tomorrow - let's see if the Argentineans can outdo their Chilean brothers and sisters! But right now I'm off to bed.
Victor Hugo takes us around the vineyard.
All a bit foggy today amongst the vines.
They have various Mapuche statues around, signifying the spiritual link with the earth.
Future owner?
Down in the cellar.
Ignacito tries to take some home for daddy.
It's the start of the new growing season.
Ah, finally getting to the important bit.
Salud!
They still have arranged marriages in Chile.
Starting young.
Childcare is so much easier when you're drinking wine.
No translation needed.
Lunchtime, in crazy-busy Fuente Alemana.
Waiting at the bar.
Tere tucks in.
I think this is called a Lomito (it might be Argentinean - shhh!)
Mmmm mmmm!
After Ignacio and Raimundo finished work (late!) we made it out for tapas.
Raimundo stuck to sangria, while I ventured into beer/lemon/pepper territory. I knew what the drink was called when I ordered it, but after a few sips I couldn't remember anything...
Hannah's reaction is fairly accurate.
Men drinking together.
