Antes de amarte, amor, nada era mío

As I meandered through Santiago’s Bellavista neighborhood, a man stopped me and said something that I didn’t quite understand. I thought he had asked for directions. “Lo siento. No conozco el barrio,” (I’m sorry. I don’t know the neighborhood) I said.

He then corrected me and told me that he wasn’t asking for directions but telling me that Pablo Neruda’s house was up the street. I immediately took the right and my curiosity drove me up Fernando Márquez de La Plata where graffiti murals led to a lovely plaza with a pool running down an amphitheater-like setup.

I entered and paid the $2,500 Chilean pesos to enter Pablo Neruda’s home. Photos were prohibited inside, but I took shots of his garden area and outside on the streets.


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