Santiago, Chile
With sad cruelty I awake early yet again, so make my way to breakfast. There's no sign of anyone else so after a quick bit of food I return to my room, plug in the laptop and spend a few hours on emails and the internet before Alex messages me to say he’s awake.
Our departure time for the gig this evening is 6pm so we’ve got a few hours to kill and the plan was to take a cable car into the mountains and go sightseeing followed by a bit of Sunday lunch. However, while the rain has now stopped the entire city is swathed in low-level cloud and mist, looking grey and uninviting. Being 650 metres above sea level, when the clouds roll in, they almost touch the ground.
Back in the UK I notice that everyone is raving about how gloriously hot and sunny it is, while here it’s jumpers, coats and umbrellas to the ready!
It’s 1.30pm by the time we leave the hotel in a car with Monkey and Patton and head past the striking air force monument, like a sliver of steel surrounded by fountains, before heading up higher into the clouds as we climb the San Cristobal hill which overlooks the city.
Rene, our driver, tells us all about the pollution in the city caused by traffic and industry and how it’s so bad that the traffic is now regulated, meaning certain cars can only drive on certain days. The city also regularly issue warnings for people to stay indoors. The main route of escape for Santiago residents is to ascend San Cristobal and drink in the fresher air at the summit.
When we wend our way to the top, past puffing cyclists, hardcore joggers and families having picnics in the park, we reach the Statue of the Blessed Virgin, which gazes down beneficently on the city, rather like Christ the Redeemer in Rio but on a far smaller scale. Rene points out all the 'sights’ with great and long detail, which considering they are often things like the headquarters of a mobile phone company or a racetrack so shrouded in mist we can’t make it out, is quite a laborious process. However he shows us the enormous national football stadium where we are heading in a few hours for the gig.
In the foreground, and much more visible, is Santa Lucia hill, which is where Don Pedro de Valdivar declared he would build the city of Santiago in 1541. Unfortunately, this was news to the Mapucha Indians who already lived there, so each time Don Pedro built the city, they’d ride back down and set fire to it. You’d think he’d have moved. But no, 450 years later this has become a city of 50 districts each with their own mayor, and some five million people.
By now it’s almost 3pm and we’re starving so Rene drives us down to the Bellavista area where there are some restaurants. As we stop at lights, a dishevelled man staggers towards the car, clearly high as a kite, with his hand outstretched for money. Through the windscreen he sees Alex with his long hair and shades on and stops, swaying slightly, before a look of comprehension crosses his face. "Eye-ron may-deen!!" he exclaims. Alex tries to put him right but he just stares and mouths the name again in disbelief. Rene pulls out some pesos and puts them into the man's hands and we drive off, leaving his confused face behind us still thinking he’s just seen a rock star squashed in a cab.
After lunch at a great restaurant called Lomita we drive on to downtown where all the important historical sights lie. Rene fills us in on the political history of Chile, including the events around the death of the socialist president Salvador Allende in 1973 and the nineteen years of military rule under General Pinochet that followed, as we drive around Plaza de la Constitucion and check out the government palace La Moneda where we line up and take photos with the guards.
Further on is the main square, Plaza de Armas, which is full of people and has a fantastic modern sculpture dedicated to the Mapuchas. But the piece de resistance is the absolutely breathtaking cathedral which boasts a jawdroppingly beautiful interior.
By now time is ticking away and we have to race back to the hotel, grab our passes and jump in the vans to head over to the stadium – Estadio Nacional. We arrive about 6.30pm and have a bit of a wander around the pitch amongst the fans while it’s still daylight, taking in the atmosphere, and then Alex is whisked off by Chilean radio to do an interview as a guest of honour. “Welcome all the way from London, England, the editor of Metal Hammer magazine.” Ah, celebrity, eh?!
While Alex does that I check out the first support band, local heroes Kingdom Of Hate. Hmmmmm. Their cacophonous racket is not quite my cup of tea so I go into hospitality which is incredibly swish in this venue, boasting a cocktail bar, fresh sushi made to order and white drapes, sofas and chandeliers. It’s not a bad place to kill a couple of hours before the main event.
And what an event! Tonight’s gig is something very special. 50,000 Chileans are treated to a truly remarkable gig with the band loving every minute and feeding off the fizzing energy and extreme passions of the crowd who sing along to every word at the top of their lungs. Watching tens of thousands of people bouncing up and down in unison and roaring with pleasure as the band race through ‘The Trooper’ is a spectacle to behold.
This being South America, there’s always a surprise, and all of a sudden we are parted and marching in single file through our section and on into the crowd are twenty carabinieri in full riot gear, looking like Terminators. They disappear amongst the audience and into the night, obviously to stop any trouble breaking out, but the celebratory atmosphere means that doesn’t happen.
Back at the hotel everyone is buzzing about the night, and so thrilled that it was all captured for a DVD. This will be something very special. Alex grabs Rod and both tour managers for further interviews and then we sit with various band members to have a few drinks. It’s 2am when I take my leave, mindful of an early start to get back to the UK tomorrow, but Alex has a fantastic bottle of Pisco shaped like an Easter Island statue sat in front of him – a gift from the backstage staff at the venue – and decides that he’ll need to take the bottle in hand luggage to keep it safe as a souvenir.
Of course, with the liquid restrictions at the airport this means it’ll have to be empty so the shot glasses are being lined up and the night ahead looks long. I say my goodbyes to everyone, thanking them all for such a great trip and remind Alex we’re meeting downstairs in the lobby in a few hours time for a marathon 26-hour journey back to the UK. He just grins and tells me he'll see me later. It’ll be dark glasses all the way I fear!
