Release

In summer, Santiago sweats. Skin against cloth. Skin against skin. Skyscrapers melting as air conditioners drip down their sides. The visible disappearance of snow from the Andes. The Metro transforming into a sauna, its passengers stuck to one another and sighing. Sunny pavements lay bare, empty of citizens who favor the street’s shadier other side.

It was strange to wear Christmas hats alongside our shorts and sunglasses, and stranger still to hang up decorations of snowflakes as our iced drinks melted hurriedly in sweaty palms.

The heat was everywhere; in every crack of our bodies and every conversation we had. It is what I hated about Santiago’s summer, and what I will achingly miss during England’s winter next year.

Autumn arrived with slow relief. Much as the UK’s sun will break through for an occasional – much needed – appearance after months of monotonous cloudy skies, a cool wind sporadically breaths down Santiago’s streets and alleyways. The mornings are now refreshing, with the absence of such heavy heat. And with these slight changes, I marvel at how this will be the last season change I see in Santiago.