Chile. It´s Spanish for Chilly. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr.

By day, Valparaiso is a sunny, clement and bijou little place, splendid for al-fresco drinking and dining. By night, however, being outside becomes tantamount to sitting in a fridge. We went for dinner at a place called ´The Brighton´ on Paseo del Atkinson. The place was irresistible on so many levels. Apart from the name of the location, we had wonderful views of the glinting city below. This is all well and good when the temperature isn´t about two degrees centigrade outside. Like true English people abroad we stuck it out, very much enjoying the picturesque vistas if not the icicles that were beginning to form on the end of our noses. When it became obvious that our beflip-flopped feet were probably in the early stages of frostbite, it was time to take it inside.Thankfully the anti smoking laws in Chile are a bit more relaxed than on our beloved isle, in that one can usually choose from ´fumadores o no fumadores´, just like England used to be in the good old days (nostalgic sigh). We found a convenient bolt hole from the cold at a bar called Sabor Colour, an arty little place with wildly pigmented walls and paintings to adorn them. The Nina Simone, Frank Sinatra and assorted jazz were also a welcome change from the usual selection of angsty Latin American Power Ballads that we´ve mostly been subjected to. Being my first indoor smoking experience since the ban was introduced back home, I did feel extremely naughty about lighting up inside. Here is a picture of Matty sheepishly offering me a Pall Mall menthol. Such a bad influence...