Got any Jelly for this Hotdog?

Hey there kids, Happy Friday--i bet you´re excited, I know I am. Just happy to be alive actually and I will tell you why here in a sec but lets get caught up.
On Wednesday back in Pucon, I left our boy Petro to climb the volcano while I made my two day northern ascent towards the capital city Santiago. With the uncertain goal of visiting nearby vineyards I took a bus to Chillan, which is a mid-sized but non-descript city about 5 hours south of Santiago. After getting off the bus with an aching foot I settling on the first guest house I toured, which possessed a small degree of seediness that made me wish I had my bodyguard Petro with me. With a bag full of dirty clothes and wearing pants for the 7th day in a row, I was in desperate need of laundromat or just a park sprinker. I found neither. Later, during a self guided tour of the city I stumbled upon yet another town festival--either by strange coincidence or the fact that towns must hold mid-week festivals every week--- this is like the fourth time this has happened recently. But having already witnessed the same old hoopla of traditional dancing and candy apples, I was not long in attendance. I had a date with a completo and a beer. A completo in Chile is a hotdog. I ordered a "italiano completo" thinking I was going to get something at least resembling a sausage but instead I received a hotdog in bun with diced tomatos, crushed avacodos, all topped with a thick bead of mayonaise. Disgusting? No, it was delicious...which makes me wonder what other ridiculous ingredients you can mix together and produce that heavenly taste...next up--hamburgers and marshallow fluff (master food mixologist Matthew Kopp can probably give us some suggestions).
And so, having discovered the nearby vineyards are nearly impossible to do by public transport I ditched the idea and made plans for Santiago. In an effort to switch up my mode of scenary intake, I decided to take train to Santiago in lieu of the bus. Sprawling vineyards turn into sprawling suburbs and then arrival into the city.
And here is my first story of almost being killed.
10 minutes off the train in Santiago and I sauntered on over to a street vendor selling huge empanadas. Ravenous from the long train ride, I was not paying much attention to exactly where I was standing while I was trying to negotiate my food purchase when I heard a loud gasp followed by what I perceived was a semi-violent push in my back. Feeling the side of the swiftly right-turning bus push my big pack and me forward and seeing the terrified look of the gasping bystander help me absorb exactly how close I had been to a premature departure from Mother Earth. Shellshocked I told the vendor to just give me the damn empanada, whatever freaking kind she picked out--just get me off this street. It turned out to be a delicious empanada but having another go at life tasted just a little bit sweeter.
After having just narrowly missed getting creamed by a bus my first 10 minutes into Santiago, I thought I should not push my luck with my full pack anymore. Off to the hostel. So far, the low expectations of Santiago that other travellers had conveyed have been proved unfair. The city appears clean and the people friendly (yesterday, there was a group of people with yielding signs saying "Abrazos Gratis" or Free Hugs, which I enthusiastically acccepted in light of my earlier experience..that hugger wasn't prepared for the breakdown that ensued.
And so Santiago has been just great, they try to kill ya then they try to hug it off. This is obviously a premature initial analysis of Santiago but we´ll see if it holds up...........


Yours,
Mr. Invincible

I really hope there is no future irony in that sign-off.........