Australia’s Foremost Valparaíso-born Politician❈

Local history, Political History, Travel

(Source: https://www.worldatlas.com/)

If you ever take an international flight to South America and happen to stop over in Santiago, Chile with a spare day or two and find you are not much enamoured of what’s on offer in the less than pulsating capital, a trip to picturesque Valparaíso would be just the tonic! To escape Santiago’s grimy greyness … and its multi-millions of stray, mangy dogs, take a trip on Route 68 115km north-west to Valparaíso and Region V.

imageValparaíso, or ‘Valpo’ for short, today has a faded, glamour but stacks of aesthetic character – with a higgedly-piggedly, chaotic pattern of brightly coloured houses, “a heap … a bunch of crazy houses” as poet Pablo Neruda described them, and numerous run-down/falling-down Victorian mansions (conversely on a cautionary note, the city these days also has a criminal underbelly including endemic petty crime and prostitution). Remnants of the city’s former glory and especially its quaint charm remain however: the old and rickety ascensores (inclined motorised lifts, called funiculars elsewhere) transport passengers up and down Valparaíso’s steep, undulating hills, from atop the cerros visitors enjoy sweeping views across the bay and the ports. It’s a city awash with the most brilliant murals on the walls of houses and commercial buildings which themselves exude colour and character.

Valaparaíso’s “salad days” were in the 19th century, during this period it was a world-class port on the Europe to California shipping route. A combination of the devastating 1906 earthquake and the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914 signified the rapid commercial decline of Valparaíso, once known as the “Jewel of the Pacific”. This small city on the eastern edge of the Pacific 11,326km from Sydney might seem an odd place for a turn-of-the-century Australian prime minister to be born◙, but in 1867 one such future PM was born there (also see Postscript). His name at birth was Johann Christian Tunck. Tunck’s father was Chilean of German stock whilst his mother was born in New Zealand of Irish ancestry. After his Chilean father disappeared early on, his mother remarried, changing the child’s name to John Christian Watson.

Later on Watson perpetuated a myth as to the truth of his origins which sustained itself throughout his political life. The name John Christian Watson emphasised his supposed ‘Scotchness’ and concealed an inconvenient, alien background. If his non-Britishness have been known, Watson’s eligibility for public office would have been imperilled (Australian politicians were required to be subjects of the Crown)[1].

(Photo: NRMA)

Tanck (the future J Christian Watson) grew up in the South Island of New Zealand, he trained as a compositor and worked for provincial newspapers such as the North Otago Times and the Oamaru Mail. Through these workplaces Watson had his first contacts with labour politics, joining the Typographers’ Union and the NZ Land League. Finding himself unemployed in his late teens prompted him to migrate to Sydney and peripatetic employment with local newspapers until moving to the Australian Star, a paper with a protectionist bent which matched his own economic thinking. As in NZ Watson found a path into the New South Wales Trades and Labour Council (TLC) via the Typographical Association of NSW[2].

Rising quickly through the official labour ranks Watson became both president of the TLC and chairman of the Labor Party (only recently established as the Labor Electoral League) by age 25. Watson served as a member of the colonial parliament of NSW, representing rural Young, and his star continued to ascend after the Commonwealth came into being on 1 January 1901. A few months after Federation, still closer to 30 than 40, Watson was chosen as the first parliamentary leader of the Australian Labor Party (ALP).

Early Federal Australian politics entailed a three-way tussle between Watson’s ALP, the Protectionist Party led by Deakin and the Free Trade Party under Reid. Watson’s ascension to the prime minister-ship in 1904 was a novel occurrence: (the ALP was the) first national, labour-based government in the world; Watson at 37, the youngest-ever Australian PM[3]. The advent of Watson’s “workers'” government was met with cynicism and hostility as it challenged the hitherto standard notion that the working class were capable of assuming the mantle of government and succeeding. It didn’t as it eventuated succeed, surviving not quite four months before Watson found his government’s position untenable and was edged out of power¤ … but this was more to do with the nature of the Watson government, a minority one, than the quality or performance. Basically it couldn’t muster the numbers in parliament to continue governing and the governor-general appointed George Reid to the PM-ship in August 1904[4].

Watson’s political ideology:
In the terminology of 2016 filtered through the media’s lens, Chris Watson would be called “right-wing Labor”. Pro-protectionist (much closer to the position of his friend Deakin than to that of Reid and his Free Traders), a staunch advocate of the White Australia Policy, committed to gradual, industrial change in the working conditions and wages of the working man (hence his constant championing of Arbitration and Conciliation reform whilst PM). On the enduring question of the ALP and socialism, Watson, a moderate and mediator by temperament, eschewed a revolutionary approach, seeing himself rather as a proponent of “evolutionary (Christian) socialism”[5]. At his core Watson was no ideologue, he was far from being a fan of the later, quasi-messianic NSW Labor leader Jack Lang and his style of politics. Not a fuzzy idealist either, Watson was a thorough-going pragmatist (albeit a well-liked one), ever happy to do deals and compromise with the Free Trade Party and especially the Protectionists to try to retain Labor’s hold on power.

Labor front runner from Double Bay with Van Dyke beard Labor front runner from Double Bay with Van Dyke beard

The almost universally highly regarded Watson held on to the leadership for a few more years[6] but in 1910, at around the time his successor Andrew Fisher was forming the first Federal Labor government to rule in its own right, Watson was leaving parliament. One reason for this decision was to spend more time with his wife, the other was purely financial, MPs in those days were not handsomely remunerated. Watson’s early business ventures were unsuccessful, eg, investing in a South African gold mine, land speculation at Sutherland in the southern districts of Sydney. More stable income was to be had when he became a director of a wool and textile enterprise – he was able to put his prestige as an ex-PM and his political connections to good use as a lobbyist for the business[7].

Into WWI Watson continued to play a behind-the-scenes role in the ALP, allying himself with the new Labor leader and PM, William Morris Hughes. The 1916 Conscription debate, saw both Hughes and Watson on the wrong side of the argument … calling for the introduction of compulsory military service by Australians in the war, a stand bitterly opposed by the great bulk of the Party (also decisively rejected by the public at large in two referendums). In the internecine conflict Hughes factionalised the ALP, defecting in 1917 to form a new (non-Labor) party, the Nationalists and holding on the prime minister-ship. Watson joined Hughes in the new party (both he and Watson were expelled from the ALP for their actions). Watson spent the last part of the war enthusiastically trying to get a soldier settlers’ scheme for returned Great War veterans off the ground[8].

In the 1920s Watson played a leading role in establishing and guiding the NRMA (National Roads and Motorists Association), and in the formation of Yellow Cabs (taxi service), and in the 1930s, AMPOL (Australian Motorists Petrol Company), all of which illustrate the former PM’s interest in motor transport. One of his other interests, cricket, led to him being appointed a trustee of the Sydney Cricket Ground in Australia[9].

Chris Watson’s life journey took him from obscure and somewhat clandestine origins in Chile to a printing apprenticeship in Dunedin, NZ, to labour politics in Sydney and ultimately to the highest political office in Australia during the formative years of Federation. His brief stint in the top job (a mere 15 weeks) and early retirement at 42 from representative politics, leaves him as one of the lesser known PMs but one that nonetheless played a pioneering role in Labor leadership and in the shaping of Australia’s national identity.

Watson’s trajectory after 1916, if you were to be critical, could be seen as one in which he abandoned labour for the business world, and for the party of big business, the Nationalists (a choice of nationalism over social democracy it could be described) … clearly why, despite his achievements, he has never quite made it into the Pantheon of ALP political heroes.

Valpo view Valpo view

Postscript:
When I undertook my day trip to Valparaíso, our tour guide, Adrián, who was equipped with excellent English and organisational skills, had this little technique he used on his tours. If he was taking an Australian group of tourists (as with my one on that particular day), he would tailor his commentary of the places we visit to include a sprinkling of references to Australia (or say to Mexico if that was the case). Such as pointing out the concentrations of imported Eucalyptus Globulus among the indigenous trees in the Andean valley. When we got to the city of the Porteños I casually asked the knowledgable guide if he was aware that an Australian prime minister was actually born right there in Valparaíso. Adrián, clearly someone interested in the wider world, was surprised, even doubting of such a claim. “No, really?!?” he inquired disbelievingly (how could this have escaped the meticulous Adrián!). Immediately he googled it on his iPhone and gleefully confirmed that I was right! Chuffed at picking up such a handy little revelatory fact, he added with a boyish enthusiasm that he would mention it to his next group of Aussie tourists. I laughed and replied, “Don’t worry, the overwhelming odds are they won’t have heard of Watson either“!

╬╬╬╠═╬╠═╬╠═╬╠═╬╬╬═╬╠═╬╠═╬╠═╬╬

❈ a superfluous distinction of course given that as far as is known, short of a forensic examination of Hansard, Watson was almost certainly the only Australian political figure to be born in Valparaíso
◙ all other Australian prime ministers born outside Australia came from the British Isles
¤ the specific trigger for the government’s downfall was Watson’s failure to secure a double dissolution from the Gov-Gen.

[1] the Scottish myth was sustained throughout Watson’s political career, eg, the (Sydney) Bulletin lavished praise on him when he became the government’s treasurer in 1904 – concluding that “public finances are in safe Caledonian hands”, The Bulletin, 28 April 1904, cited in J Hawkins, ‘Chris Watson: Australia’s second Treasurer’, The Treasury: Australian Government, (Economic Roundup – Winter 2007), www.archive.treasury.gov.au
[2] B Nairn, ‘Watson, John Christian (Chris) (1867-1941)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Vol. 12, (MUP), 1990
[3] at the same point in time the British Labour Party (BLP) had precisely four MPs out of a total of 670 in the House of Commons, and the first BLP UK government didn’t occur until the 1930s, R McMullin, ‘First in the World: Australia’s Watson Labor Government’, Department of Parliamentary Services, (2005), www.aph.gov.au/
[4] ibid. Reid’s term, similarly, was one of only 11 months … Watson’s and Reid’s terms were characteristic of the early Commonwealth governments – minority rule, composite, multi-party based governments and (consequently) short-lived
[5] Hawkins, op.cit.
[6] Even when he was PM or Leader of the Opposition, Watson was still highly responsive to his local constituents in Bland (and later South Sydney) and worked tirelessly to address their “grass roots” needs, ‘Chris Watson’ (Australian Prime Ministers), Museum of Australian Democracy, www.primeministers.moadoph.gov.au
[7] A Grassby & S Ordoñez, John Watson, (1999)
[8] ibid.
[9] ibid.

Valparaíso: Ascensores, Street Art, Murals and Multicoloured Homes

Regional History, Travel

Travel Destination Review

Route 68: Political blots on the beautiful landscape
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I took a tour from Santiago to the port city of Valparaíso, 115 km north-west of the Chilean capital. The highway (Route 68) was a good quality road and we made good time getting out to the Pacific. Valparaíso’s historic fame rests on its integral role as a port, and shipping is still a key industry, although it’s importance today is not what it was strategically in the nineteenth century before the Panama Canal was constructed. Beyond the town’s central plaza lies Prat Wharf which is still a busy area for shipping and docklands.

Valpa’s kaleidoscope of colour!
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Valparaíso, or as the residents of the city (the Porteños) call it, ‘Valpo’ for short, is a fascinating place to walk around. One of the highlights is the street art and distinctive buildings, a hotch-potch of different-coloured houses, many with brightly-painted murals on their walls. A quirky aspect of Valparaíso is that you find very ordinary and humble dwellings (even rundown ones) right next to more grand and ornate buildings.

Palacio Buburizza Palacio Buburizza

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Up on the heights of Cerro Alegre (literally “cheerful hill” in Spanish) visitors can view some unusual and quite distinctive examples of domestic architecture, such as Palacio Baburizza, formerly a large rambling art nouveau palatial home (now a fine arts museum). Also up on Cerro Alegre, in a kind of unofficial Croatian sector of the city, is the 1861-built Casa Antoncich, a dwelling which survived major earthquakes in 1906, 1985 and 2010, something Valparaíso is prone to given its proximity to the Peru-Chile oceanic trench. Cerro Bellavista is another part of the hilly city celebrated for its array of luminously bright murals.

City ascensor
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Topographically, Valparaíso is characterised by very steep hills surrounding the docks and shoreline. As a consequence, funiculars or as they are called here, ascensores (literally ‘elevator’, these are cable cars on very steeply sloping rail tracks) are the standard transportation options for residents in the hills to ease their descent from houses high on the hills to Plaza Sotomayor, the city Centro and the port. There are some 26 ascensores servicing Valparaíso. It was fun to descend rapidly to sea-level on one of these funiculars, very quick and costing only a nominal sum (about 10 Chilean pesos).

Any planned visit to Chile should factor in at the very minimum a day trip to Valparaíso, otherwise tourists will be missing out on a charming and very fascinating part of the country.

PostScript: A touch of Australia at 33° S, 71° W?
The city centre, Plaza Sotomayor, includes the Chilean naval headquarters (Armada de Chile building), the large monument to naval hero Arturo Prat in the middle. Diagonally opposite the Armada is Cafe Melbourne, which promises “Melbourne café-style food and coffee” (is Melbourne so distinctive in food and coffee from that in other Australian cities, I know Melburnians think so but really?) The name will probably nonetheless engender some curiosity from tourists from Victoria. A further pointer on the Australiana theme, the visit to the port of Valporaíso reminded me of the city’s other nebulous connection with the ‘Land Downunder’ – Australia’s third prime minister, John Christian (Chris) Watson, was born in Valparaiso of Irish-Chilean parents, an occurrence that was entirely one of happenstance!

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and make their return ascent achievable!

Santiago, Route 68 and all that!

Travel

Chile: la Parte Uno

My initial impression of Santiago, as I enter the central region by taxi, is not especially favourable – grimy, dirty, old faded buildings, a place where compulsive graffiti escribitors seem to be in their element. Packs of mangy-looking stray dogs roam the streets, I was informed later that there are upwards of 350,000 scattered throughout Santiago (mucho perros!). As we drive down Gral MacKenna, we pass Mercado Central, this area is in an olfactory sense, very much on the nose 24/7, which is not surprising as it is the location of the city’s central fish markets!

I find my driver somewhat disconcerting. The white-haired old guy looks unnervingly like Pinochet and is possessed of the barest modicum of English. I ask him tourist-type questions, he stares blankly, uncomprehending. Occasionally he latches on to a recognisable word or two in English, but this only prompts him to launch into a further flurry of rapidly spoken Spanish. At this we both sigh quizzically. I wave an imprecise finger in the air and say inquiringly “hotel, si?”, he echoes my ‘si’ and he drives on in silence. When we arrive at my hotel in Ismael Valdez Vergara, the linguistically challenged driver (Miguel is his name) gives me his mobile number (I thought, what good is this?!? … better if he gave me HIS interpreter’s phone number!)

Once inside the hotel, the language problems exacerbate rather than diminish. No one who works here speaks anything like remotely passable English. In time I come to rely on other guests, Brazilians and Uruguayans in particular, with a reasonable amount of English to translate for me to the staff. Asking simple questions soon becomes burdensome, eg, “where do I buy bottled water”? (having been sensibly warned to give the local tap water a wide berth). Eventually I managed to get out the word ‘aqua’ which is close to the Spanish ‘agua’ but I think the receptionist was too confused by my early burst of too-fast English to comprehend. At this point in the trip, my neophyte Spanish was way too rudimentary to grasp the generic term, let alone the distinction between agua con gas and agua sin gas. My question confuses the apprehensive woman at reception, after some hesitant, uncomfortable moments, she responds by phoning a friend. Her phone friend, with a little better English, soon latches on to what I’m after and asks me to hand the phone back to the reception person, to whom she explains precisely what I want. Newly enlightened, the hotel woman quickly gives me directions to the nearby supermercado, one problem solved. While I have this at least partially Anglophone woman on the phone I venture a second question: “Where can I find casa de cambio“. She struggles initially with this one too, my undoubtedly unorthodox pronunciation not helping, but eventually she comprehends and asks me to hand the phone back to the receptionist again. After they talk, the receptionist hands the phone back to me and the caller advises me that the woman I am with now can exchange money. Phew! Its been hard work just to get to find out that the person who can’t understand me is the person who can help me get what I want! Fortunately and a little surprisingly, the reception woman is happy to exchange $40 Australian for 20,000 Chilean pesos which is very fair – to me! (on my later attempts to exchange Australian dollars for nuevo sols in Peru, I find myself decidedly on the wrong end of the deal!).

Worker protest against the authorities a SA way of life Worker protest against the authorities an SA way of life!

After settling my belongings in the room I wander out for a bit of a reconnoitre of Santiago. I get about 25 metres from my hotel in Ismael Valdez Vergara and I run into my first South American protest event in Parque Forestal (the first of many such observed people demos on my trip). All the protestors are decked out in blue or orange T-shirts, all blowing unrestrainedly on shrill whistles with the accompaniment of the usual cacophonous musical instruments. As far as I could work out from the banners, they were protesting against the low salaries of trabajadores (roughly translated, hard-working employees), a common complain as worker salaries are generally quite low in the country in the light of 30%-plus inflation affecting the economy. I could see that this was a serious protest by the workers, but one trait I noted each time I happened upon such displays of ‘people power’ in South America is that the participants seem to be having a good time all the same!

The next morning on the street, given my overwhelming lack of Spanish and zero local know-how, I am bemused that several people ask me directions (I think, I hardly look like a local, surely not?). “Recoleta Mercado this way?” an elderly Chilean man inquires. I give reassuring credence to his half-question, half-statement, beckoning in the direction he is heading, ‘si’! Now, obviously I’m not sure where it is, but I’m trying to be helpful and I’m at least not giving him an altogether false lead (although later in Buenos Aires I almost certainly did!), as I know that the Recoleta, a main cross-road, is down that way somewhere, so hopefully and logically the markets with its name is also somewhere near the road called Recoleta (although this does not always follow in Chile as I come to discover).

I was told to be ready at 8:30 to be picked up by the CTS Tourismo bus for a day tour to Valparaiso, some 115-120km west of Santiago on the Pacific coast. It is much nearer to 9:30 when the bus finally arrives (my first lesson in South America that punctuality applies to me rather than to my transporters!). Adrian, the tour guide is refreshingly bilingual and very proficient in English. When we get out of the municipalidad onto Route 68 I meet some chatty, senior American tourists at a servicio in the Curacavi Valley, and it is a relief to have a fluent conversation in English after the frustrating experience of trying to communicate in Spanglish on the previous day. The rest of our Valparaíso group are Brazilian tourists with minimal if any English (one is OK), but they seem a nice bunch of women.

In the bus the guide Adrian reveals that Chile is numerically divided into administrative regions, number 1, number 2, and so on. The problem with this neat categorisation is that number 3 was skipped over and never assigned to any region. Adrian’s explanation for this illogical anomaly is that Chileans aren’t good at maths (I decide this is one of those self-deprecating national jokes, kind of like the equivalent of an Irish joke told by the Irish against themselves).

As we head down Route 68 for the Pacific Coast, massive advertising billboards announcing the upcoming Chilean elections blot the landscape. These unsubtle messages are of course positive reinforcement to the voters of the merits of candidates and their parties. One element of this political advertising that you wouldn’t see in Australia is that the prominent female candidates running for presidential office are identified on the mega-billboards solely by their nombres (first names). Michelle (the former president) and Evelyn (the right-wing challenger), are presumably well enough known politicians to make a connection with the electorate on the basis of a single name. Their parties’ respective spin doctors and marketeers would be only too aware of the advantages of establishing familiarity and therefore trust. Using the first name of the candidate projects a more intimate, friendly connection, they appear more accessible to (and for) the masses (in the Americas context, Evita’s mononomenic identity comes immediately to mind). While we are traversing the countryside, Adrian informs the group of Chile’s peculiar “obsessive-compulsive disorder” with the tuber – Chile produces some 3,800 species of potatoes (who’d have thought there was that many or that much point of difference!). Apparently, Chile and Peru vie with each other as potato producers, each asserts that IT produces the most varieties in the world of the humble spud!

amphitheatre 'roof' Ampitheatre ‘roof’

Upon approaching Valparaíso, we by-pass it and head for Vina Del Mar, a coastal resort town about 9km up the road. VDM as the locals call it, is equipped with a big casino, as you’d expect of a tourist town keen to encourage well-heeled visitors to part with their disposable holiday income. We visited the unusual Quinta Vergara Amphitheater and the recently earthquake-damaged Palacios Vergara (both in Parque Quinta Vergara). The idiosyncratically-designed Amphitheatre annually hosts the largest International Song Festival in South America, which draws the like of international performers such as Elton John, Morrissey, Julio Iglesias and Sting. It is a differently-interesting construction, very airy (decidedly open air in fact!), based on the Ancient Greek model, with its most distinctive feature, the multiple vertical poles “suspended from the air”. I think if I was sitting directly under the seemingly-insecure hanging steel poles, I would find my attention somewhat distracted from the concert! Afterwards, we have an excellent seafood lunch at Delicias del Mar lashed down with liberal servings of Cristal (the local cerveza). This restaurant has more than the odd quirky touch. The foyer entrance resembles a bricabrac and curios shop, being packed with various stuffed animals, display cabinets of old coins, knickknacks and wooden mastheads carved in the shape of topless maidens. Inside the restaurant, the contents of the walls divulge the owner’s serious Marilyn Monroe obsession with a myriad of photos, prints, clocks and other decorative features representing the iconic Marilyn.

In Vina del Mar we also see its famous clock made out of flowers (Reloj de Flores). This much-photographed, unusual, organic timepiece was a gift to Chile from Switzerland to celebrate the 1962 Football World Cup in Chile. Also in this resort town, at Museo Fonck, we see the Chilean mainland’s only moai, a gigantic stone statue from Easter Island (Easter Island is so far from the American continent I’m not sure a lot of people automatically get its connection to Chile).

Valparaiso: murals & colour Valparaiso: murals & colour

The port city of Valparaíso alone makes the visit to the west coast worthwhile. It’s a very interesting place, especially its own distinctive domestic architectural style, a hotchpotch of different-coloured and sized houses, many with brightly painted murals on their walls (the guide, Adrian describes this as “good graffiti” as opposed to the ‘malo’ type of graffiti consisting of erratic and indecipherable doodling which infests many parts of Valparaiso). Intriguingly, you will find very ordinary and humble dwellings (even ones which are little better than rundown shacks) right next to structures which are diametrically the opposite, very grand and ornate buildings. On the hill of Cerro Alegre we view various examples of unusual Valparaiso buildings, such as Palacio Baburizza, a large, imposing art nouveau building incorporating a distinctive “witches’ hat” style of vaulted roofing (now a fine arts museum). Also on Cerro Alegre in the Croatian sector, is the 1861-built Casa Antoncich which survived major earthquakes in 1906, 1985 and 2010.

Palacio Buburizza, Cerro Alegre Palacio Buburizza, Cerro Alegre

Topographically, Valparaíso is marked by very steep hills surrounding the docks and shoreline. As a consequence, funiculars or ascensores (cable cars on sloping rail tracks) are the principal mode of transport for residents in the hills to descend to Plaza Sotomayor and the city centro. There are some 26 ascensores servicing Valparaiso. It was novel and fun to drop down to sea-level on one of these funicular contraptions, the journey takes only a few seconds and costs a nominal sum, about 10 Chilean pesos (virtually nothing given the value of the Chilean peso!). The city centre, Plaza Sotomayor, includes the Chilean naval headquarters (Armada de Chile building), the large monument to naval hero Arturo Prat in the middle, and Cafe Melbourne on the other side, it’s sign promising “Melbourne café-style food and coffee” (is this in some sense distinctive from food and coffee in other Australian cities, I ask?) but its name will probably entice some curiosity from tourists from Victoria). Beyond the plaza is the docks (Prat Wharf), always coursing with shipping activity. The docklands house a handicrafts markets where I buy my Valparaiso souvenir.

Ascensores: the quick way to the bottom Ascensores: the quick way to the bottom

I observe that Adrian, our helpful guide, has this methodology when conducting his tour talks where he’ll try to tailor the information to suit the interests of the particular national group of tourists he is leading. He mentions to me in passing that he regularly has Australians on his tours, so I was able to enhance his repertoire of anecdotes by telling him about a little-known Australia/Valparaiso connection, Australia’s third prime minister, Chris Watson (first Labor Party PM, youngest-ever PM) was born right here in Valparaíso. Adrian is wrapped on hearing this, immediately googles it to confirm the information, and is not even disappointed to find that Watson, is only partly ancestrally Chilean … Watson perpetuated a lifelong myth that his parents were migrants from Scotland who had stopped over in the Chilean port on route to Australia (his mother was in fact Irish). With genuine relish Adrian enthused that he would store this snippet up to use when he takes his next group of Aussies … I replied “Don’t be surprised if none of them know this about Watson, it (or he) are not well-known even in Australia!”

That night back in the capital, I have dinner at a Peruvian-style restaurant, of which there are quite a few in Santiago. I order lomo de pollo and taste the popular South American bebidas, Inca Cola, a sickly, gold coloured and vapid tasting concoction. I’ve no understanding as to the reason for this drink’s mass popularity in Latin America. I am amused to observe one of the diners in the restaurant, a Chilean guy, with his family. As they’re about to start tucking into their evening meal, he pulls out his transistor and starts happily playing its noisy music. Interestingly, no one (including the staff) objects to his providing his own musical entertainment, even though its staticky sounds are competing with the restaurant’s background mood music. But I remind myself, this is South America, people take a more relaxed, laissezfaire attitude to such matters.