Chile is always a good idea if you wish to escape the summer heat. Last week, while Instagram was awash in bikinis, I was wrapped in cashmere sweaters and a parka, visiting my husband’s family in Santiago.
Perhaps overshadowed by its glamorous neighbor Buenos Aires, Santiago remains underrated. Yet the city holds a quiet splendor of its own. The regal Andean Cordillera stands guard in the distance, downtown holds architectural gems, and its people radiate warmth.
At the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, I was struck by the soaring volumes and classical sculptures. The current retrospective of French painter Raymond Monvoisin, who captured life in Chile and Bolivia in the 19th century, echoed Sargent’s portraits of society in the same era.
The way Monvoisin rendered jewelry made me reflect on my own medium. Jewels not only reveal taste and character, they also carry history and memory across time.
Another treasure is the Teatro Municipal, a French neoclassical masterpiece from the 19th century. There, we attended La Traviata. Alexandra Razskazoff’s Violetta held both fragility and strength. Her voice lingered long after the curtain fell.
History and elegance are not confined to theaters and museums. Antique hunting in Santiago is a pleasure in itself.
At the Mercado de Anticuarios Galpón de los Reyes, I wandered through treasures ranging from Art Deco furniture to colonial relics and Chilean artisan pieces. If it were up to me, I would ship a container home.
Then there is the seafood and the wine. From evenings at Baco and Calma to intimate dinners at home, I indulged wholeheartedly.
Sea urchin, my forever favorite, appeared as often as possible. Its briny sweetness, paired with oysters, machas, and centollas, tasted like the Pacific itself. Chileans take great pride in their seafood, and with good reason. The freshness and variety are unmatched. I would return for this alone.
As for the wine, it is hard to choose favorites, but a few bottles stood out this trip: Rituales and Sol de Sol pinot noir, The Chaski petit verdot, and Memorias from Valle del Maipo. Maybe it is the terroir. Maybe it is the company. Either way, one would have to try hard to drink poorly here.
Chile is a land of layers. Mountains and sea. Old world grandeur and modern energy. We laughed, we cried, we cried out of laughter. A few springlike days softened the season until a sudden snowfall covered the Cordillera in white for the first time in many years. It felt as if the mountains had paused to remind us of time’s quiet grandeur.
Now back in the Miami heat, I do not miss the parka, but I am grateful for this Chilean winter interlude.
I cherish how each journey imprints itself into the objects we carry forward. A jewel, like a trip, becomes a marker of time. A reminder of places, people, and sensations that continue to live with us.
Jessie
