My efforts to look respectable at the start of this trip didn’t last long. I can count on one finger how many times I have shaved and on that occasion it was already too late and I couldn’t shift the beard with the tools available. With another wedding looming here in Santiago it was time to do something about it.
Accompanied by Vicki, I headed to the barbers near our Santiago apartment. Explaining what we wanted was tricky but Vicki’s Spanish was enough to ensure I wasn’t going to lose my whole beard and reveal my un-suntanned face below. The word “fatal” was thrown around a lot but fortunately I came out unscathed (turns our he was referring to his cut-throat razor with that).
The barber was very friendly with the idiot tourists who had come into his shop. The shop was quite 70s but had a lot of character. We did feel quite bad that we had interrupted his viewing of Chile vs Iran but since Chile lost he was probably glad of the distraction.
Clippers and razors were not cleaned by the barbicide you get back at home (that product name always worries me anyway) but instead over a gas flame. It did feel that I had stepped in time 40 years for my shave but the result was good.
The result is not a lot better due to issues way beyond the skills of the barber but at least my beard is now neat again.