The rest of my time in Chile kind of went by in a blur.
Chile's ridiculous shape gives it a great tolerance for idiosyncracy
And Santiago violently radiates the feeling that people cooler than you are living there.
I woke up zombie-apocalypse early every morning,
and tried to see everything,
As if it was about to disappear.
Like every vacation, you look back and realize you missed more than you saw.
Chile is a great country for brooding. There's so much great stuff to look at while you hold still in dramatic lighting.
See? Even the buildings look contemplative.
And in the mornings full of purpose, ready to be jogged under.
Or hidden from, under an umbrella.
The lefternmost building is where we were staying. Chile has more nice backgrounds than Windows 95.
We took a trip to wine country, where I discovered that riding a horse is basically the same experience as biking drunk.
That pond down there is where boxwine comes from.
We also went to a private beach to get a tan and participate in income inequality.
Chile's per capita GDP is $14,700, about one-third of the United States's.
In gated communities, the skin tone gets is 4 shades lighter, the heels 4 inches higher and the lips 4 milligrams Botoxier.
These seagulls have their own show on Bravo.
We left after an hour and an espresso that cost 6 times the minimum wage, feeling complicit.
I spent three days in Pucon, a city in the Andes Lake District.
Other than climbing the volcano, I took a bunch of long, bumpy bike rides through the countryside.
This waterfall wasn't remotely where I wanted to end up, but the nice thing about Chile is that even getting lost ends up photogenic.
The volcano is visible from pretty much everywhere, so it appears like a watermark in all my pictures from Pucon.
It's shocking how bad my sense of direction is. This lake is just 20km from Pucon, but I went there via Peru.
Getting the bee in the shot was accidental, obviously, but didn't prevent me from feeling like Werner Herzog for the rest of the day.
Trees shot with backlighting look amazingly like fractals, it turns out.
Tourists, less so.
Instead of waiting for the sunset, I'm sure I could have achieved this same effect by just holding a pink hanky in front of the lens.
This is what Wes Anderson's vacation photos look like.
On my last day in Chile, I took the car and went to check out the Andes. I drove until the paved road ended, then turned around.
This is an unavoidable metaphor for my trip. The best parts of Chile, I have a feeling, begin after the paved road ends. Next time I'll keep going til I get there.