Chile: The Desert & The City
The Desert // Atacama // Explora
I felt drunk, but I haven’t drank in 5 days. Well, maybe four days but that’s only because a four-hour layover in ATL and a sneaky good whiskey selection at the centurion lounge. It’s that fuzzy, background type of headache—not the one that needs all the attention; but the one that won’t let you forget. My eyes heavy, like they were being squished together by a bully. My chest tightens as you wonder if there’s enough air for all of us. I couldn’t tell if it were from the coffee, but my heart seemed to beat faster making me a little anxious. I swipe my hand across my nose to discover blood—what the fuck is happening.
A few deep breaths and I felt fine. I was focused on the beauty and there was plenty of it. Plus I’m too stubborn to slow down or god-forbid—back out. I couldn’t distract myself with work emails or instagram because a signal didn’t exist: nothing to hide behind. We stopped to see Flamingos an hour or so in & I fucked up by not peeing: because that next hour was probably worse than the first. The symptoms of altitude faded as I chugged water and took in the dramatic landscapes. A road made from sand and stone—we bumped along, everything inside rattling, fellow passengers getting jostled around like rag dolls. It was when our van struggled to make it up a vertical climb when I wondered how often they upgrade these vehicles? I also thought dying with a full bladder would be a shame.
I didn’t know much about Atacama when I booked this trip a month ago; but this place isn’t for the timid. It takes you out of your comfort zone—it humbles you. It reminds you how small we really are and no matter how much you paid for your accommodations: there’s no hall passes—you’re at its mercy. Here it’s not about what it offers but what it takes away.
I don’t like silence and I hate being alone: my last challenge of 2025.
You can experience Atacama in many ways, so you shouldn’t be scared by anything above. That being said —despite the logo on everyone’s water bottle “go deeper”—you should know your limits. Or not, push yourself both physically and mentally.
Explora, the resort I stayed at seems dialed in and very accommodating no matter what your interest. Some may opt for an overland adventure—driving to scenic spots while other adventures offered were anything from horseback riding to mountain hikes. My first day there I checked in with one of the guides and she set me up: asking questions I didn’t really have the answers too. Are you good with altitude? How active are you? What kind of activities do you want to do? Considering I didn’t do any research —I let her make a plan based on my response: “I want to be adventurous and should be fine with altitude having did some hikes in the Himalayas and plenty of ski trips; but I’m old now.” We laughed and started building an itinerary.
Marjorie (Mayolita) did a great job picking out some great explorations—not all super active but all very different and capturing the spirit of Atacama. Salt flats that stretched on and crackled under the pressure, the beat up and oxidized rocks of Rainbow Valley, the warm hot springs of Puritama, the painting-like mountains, angry geysers, star-lit skies, wild vicuña, the colors, the conditions—it’s all pretty unreal.
Explora is comfortable not luxurious —like your rich friend who drives a Jeep versus the one who tells you how much their Loro Piana jacket cost. It’s clean and minimal—using natural materials and earth tones. It blends in and offers comfort in an unforgiving place. It’s clear Explora isn’t indulgent—it’s more protection. You sleep deeply —not because your pampered; but because your exhausted: physically due to the elements and mentally because of the silence.
The food is a bit of a disappointment at the price point; but way better than any all-inclusive I’ve been to (I’m looking at you Caribbean). I remember reading something about Virgilio Martínez of Lima’s Central looking after the menu; but we all know how consultant work goes if there’s no1 keeping everything in check. The menu is constantly changing and they are sourcing ingredients locally in an attempt at desert cuisine. It’s all very cool and unique; but is it delicious? My food was always correct and speedy; but I’m not sure my fellow Explorers had the same experience.
The guides and explorations are where Explora shines. The entire staff was super friendly, knowledgeable, and respectful stewards of Atacama. The rooms, the amenities—it’s all a soft landing after a day of getting beat up.
I really enjoyed Atacama. It taught me about beauty, pain, and endurance. It showcased contrast and how two things at odds could coexist. It taught me about Chile’s scars from the past and its uncertainty of the future. It taught me we don’t always need an answer. It told a story of perspective. I met some great people, had some inspiring conversations. Even met a lady who knew Popina, a few New Yorkers bonding over restaurants, and a couple from Rome that shared recommendations for the best Cacio e Pepe. I don’t feel relaxed or restored; but perhaps unencumbered and focused.
The City // Santiago // The Big Fail
I gave myself three days in Santiago: the day I landed from nyc and two days after Atacama. On my first day, I stayed at the Mandarin Oriental. Seemed like a good place to chill after a long travel day. I’m usually eager to get out of the hotel and start exploring the city; but there was a beautiful pool that was calling my name. The sun felt amazing and instantly claimed those winter blues. I only left the property once that day to visit Cerro San Cristóbal: a viewpoint that gives you a birdseye view of the city. The Andes sit in the backdrop: looming over the city like a safeguard. Walking up to San Cristobal midday in jeans was probably a bad idea; but once you get to the top its all worth it. Probably would have stayed a bit and lingered but none of the vendors were open and I was parched. I planned on hitting a few bars; but I decided to stay sober and head back to the hotel. It felt wrong going back and eating dinner at the hotel; but I figured one day to chill could be good plus I had to leave for the airport for my flight to Calama at 5am.
After Atacama I spent two more days in Santiago; but it was New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day; so not exactly the best days to explore a city. Billy hit up Rodolfo for a res at Boragó; but of course they’re closed on those days. I ended up spending more time at my hotel: The Singular. I really liked this hotel and would recommend it for anyone visiting Santiago. The hotel had a nice rooftop bar with a small pool and sweeping views of the city: a perfect spot for a coffee or pisco sour. The service seemed like they trained at the same school of hospitality as the staff of Claridges or The Ritz. The service was five-star but felt familiar in the best possible way. A stay at The Singular felt luxurious but restrained. As chain luxury brands feel less special —a stay at The Singular feels exactly that: singular.
Here they focus on the essentials: a comfortable bed, a great shower, and a view that helps frame the city. Breakfast in hotels could sometimes feel insulting but they do it right here. I even asked for a refill of coffee! The design feels industrial without feeling cold: a mix of dark wood, leather, and metal intermix in a comfortable way. The location in Lastarria is perfect: it’s where you want to be. Cafes, bookstores, and parks surround you and it feels more artsy & neighborhoody then the business district where the Mandarin was.
My lack of planning left me without a NYE reservation which I immediately realized was a mistake as the concierge clenched and redirected his eyes to his computer in horror. I was looking for something casual but most of the restaurants were already booked. Even the hotel didn’t have room; which felt a bit bizarre. I ended up spending the afternoon on the roof catching up on some work—drinking a pisco sour to be polite. I met up with some Italians I met in Atacama for a coffee and walked around the neighborhood a bit. I retired to the lobby bar for a few cocktails before heading to bed (before midnight).
The next day I was sitting in the courtyard: journaling and making a plan. Perhaps I’ll properly explore the city today: hitting up some of these restaurants and bars on my list. I looked up from my journal and caught eyes of a beautiful woman as she asked, “habla ingles?”
Her name was Heather and she was from Miami. Sun-kissed with a South American swagger—I was surprised she didn’t speak Spanish. Originally from Buffalo—we spent the next forty minutes chatting about travel and such. She landed early New Year’s day and was a bit disappointed everything was closed for the holiday. She told me she booked her flight two hours before it boarded and she knew nothing about Santiago. She did know it was New Year’s Eve and she was feeling lonely.
I’m pretty spontaneous but she even surprised me when she said she was catching a flight home later that night. We had no time to lose, so I invited her to the fish market. Truth is —I had no plans for the day but remember reading about the fish market, so that seemed like a good start. We walked over and continued to get to know each other while squeezing past locals crowding each stall as if they were given the fish away. The streets were so quiet; but the market was bustling: the spot to be. Checking out the goods while dodging questionable puddles–you wonder how long that fish has been off ice. You see a lot of fish you haven’t seen before–a perk of a long coastline. We get approached to eat lunch; but we decided to keep it moving.
I told her it was her time to lead; so we walked twenty minutes to a park with a nice view of the city. Here we dove a little deeper: morning routines, friendship, love, and love-loss. She had an impressive dating history–including a NFL championship running back. But that was awhile back–she was fresh off getting her heart broken; questioning everything yet dating again. A recent match was in St. Barts for New Years; so i’m guessing he was doing just fine from a financial standpoint. I tried to make an excuse for him not being more communicative–after all, those super yachts don’t always have a good signal 🙂
It was now my turn and I remembered Barrio Yungay being referenced as a great place to walk around and check out the murals & architecture. We wandered around a bit. I think I was into the murals more than she was. A lot of the art represents Chile’s political past; so I thought it was fascinating; but it wasn’t the nicest part of town; especially after a celebratory night. We walked into a spot for a juice; but neither of us had cash. She thought the financial district would be more happening; but that also proved to be a bust. I suggested the Ritz–after all: hotels are always open. She doesn’t drink much; but she asked what wine she should drink. Admitting my lack of knowledge in South American wine–I asked her what she liked in wine. She didn’t know, so our overly patient and good-humored host brought her a few tastes. I forgot what she ordered; but she sipped it slow reminding me we had nowhere else to be. I wanted a martini; but I opted for a beer: i wanted to be on my best behavior and it was too damn hot for red wine. My mind wandered a bit–hotels could do that. She apologized as she broke conversation for the first time. Her mom had called a bunch of times so she answered letting her know she was all good. We shifted our conversation to family and a little about work.
She finishes her wine and we hit the streets again. I had a place I wanted to check out that appeared open on Google Maps; but that was a lie. We continued to walk in search of some food; but nothing was open. We walked a bit more and laughed about the day. We walked a little more; but she needed to head back to the airport. I waited for her Uber and considered asking her to stay. I might be a few commas short in my bank account; but i did make her laugh. Maybe it wasn’t a complete fail.