santiago nights: when coffee fixes everything (even my ruins)
i woke up at 4am feeling like a deflated balloon and decided to chase coffee instead of sleep. santiago at dawn isn’t pretty-it’s this gray smudge of hills and bike racks, but the mercer coffee shop on avenue correcor had this neon sign that said ‘freshly ground, not sad.’ i ordered a cortado and stared at the condensation dripping down the glass. it was 20.22 degrees, which i later learned means ‘mildly life-threatening but also perfect for existential dread.’
someone told me that the old café nicola down the road serves the best café con leche but also has sketchy bartenders. i didn’t care. i bought a sketchy bartender. it was lukewarm but tasted like regret and cinnamon. the barista’s name was luis, and he kept trying to sell me a pastelito. i said no. multiple times. he kept coming back. i think he was a ghost. or a communist.
the weather? i just checked and it’s 20.22 again, which is like santiago’s way of saying ‘i don’t care if you’re sweating or shivering, buy coffee.’ i walked out and the street was empty except for a man selling humitas (corn masa pockets) and a cat that looked like it thought we were both verloren. the cat meowed at me. i didn’t have treats. it stared. i bought a humita instead. it was bland. we all win.
neighbors? if you get bored, valparaíso is just a short drive away. i mean, santiago is a city that’s like a group chat where everyone’s posting memes about empanadas but also crying about the metro. the reviews? i heard that the historic central market is overrated because someone spilled a whole bag of mate powder there. another said the elevator to monte barrio always breaks. i took the stairs. it involved a lot of complaining and a very confused old man who let me sit on his lap. he smelled like lavender and regret.
for gear lists, i’ve got a coffee thermos that leaks when i’m drunk, a worn-out backpack from 2018, and this ridiculous umbrella that’s way too big for me but somehow makes me look like a lost aristocrat. pro-tip: always trust the neon signs. they’re either lying or they’re the real deal. i checked yelp for the best coffee spots but mostly just scrolled through people arguing about whether black coffee is a drink or a crime against humanity.
i found a link to a local board on tripadvisor called ‘santiago foodie fails’ where someone posted a photo of a pasta dish that looked like a squirrel died in it. another link was to a yelp review of a chocolate shop that had a 5-star rating but 200 comments about the owner stealing from со localization cult. i also found a map of santiago coffee crawl it, which is just a random blog post with coordinates and a warning about sketchy parking.
just before i left, i passed a mural of a cat wearing headphones. the artist said it was a tribute to marcantonio pasera, a guy who invented espresso in the 1800s. i don’t know if that’s true. i asked a local and they said, ‘no, that’s just a cat who likes to binge on xbox.’ i took a photo anyway. here it is:
later that night, i was at a tiny corner café called café de la luna. the barista had a tattoo of a bear holding a coffee bean. he charged me 100 euros for a flat white. i didn’t ask questions. here’s another image:
by the time i got back to my hostel, the sky was this weird neon pink thing. i don’t know why. i just know the coffee still tasted like a mix of hope and diesel. i posted this on instagram with three random links: a yelp review of the humita guy, the tripadvisor board, and a blog post about santiago’s worst elevators. it has 12 likes and one comment that says ‘you look like you’re avoiding something.’ probably true.
i still have that burnt humita in my backpack. i might eat it. probably not. i might just drink more coffee. caffeine is cheap here. and santiago? it’s still 20.22. hope you like that kind of thing.
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