August 16, 2012, Chile. After returning to Santiago, I found myself with an unexpected week to enjoy the highlights of its lovely city center. Many of the most important buildings in central Santiago reflect European architectural styles from the 1800s and early 1900s. During that period, Chile benefited from a wave of migration driven by political unrest and economic instability in Europe. Among those drawn to its shores were artists, intellectuals, and architects.

One such figure was Luciano Kulczewski García (1896–1972), a prominent Chilean architect of Polish-French descent. He was admired both by clients and architectural experts for his flamboyant, eclectic designs, and continues to inspire admirers to this day. For Kulczewski, architecture was a way to serve society, to elevate quality of life and bring joy. His style blended Gothic Revival and Art Nouveau with later influences from the emerging Modernist movement. After 1939, his work took on a more socially conscious tone, integrating modernist principles to serve public needs.

I made a return visit to the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes—the Chilean National Museum of Fine Arts—one of the country’s and the continent’s most important cultural institutions. Founded in 1880, it holds the distinction of being the oldest fine arts museum in South America and is currently housed in the grand Palacio de Bellas Artes. This Beaux-Arts style building was completed in 1910 to commemorate Chile’s centennial of independence and was designed by French-Chilean architect Emile Jecquier. The museum sits within the leafy and peaceful Parque Forestal, where I indulged in daily walks.

One of my favorite sights there was the Fuente Alemana (German Fountain), an elaborate bronze and stone sculpture by Gustavo Eberlein, a well-known German sculptor of the early 20th century. Donated in 1910 by German immigrants to honor Chile’s centennial, the fountain is rich in symbolism. A young man stands tall as the ship’s mast, representing the development of global maritime routes. To his left is a miner of Mapuche-Spanish descent, embodying strength, while to his right a ringleted youth represents fortune. At the ship’s prow stands the goddess Victory—Chile itself, free and triumphant—while the god Mercury helps guide the vessel past a rock symbolizing the Andes.

I also revisited the Quinta Normal neighborhood, now part of a UNESCO world heritage conservation area. Its narrow streets and elegant 19th-century architecture made for a pleasant stroll. I stopped again at the Museum of Natural History to refresh my memory of the flora and fauna of northern and southern Chile—many of the plant names from Valdivia had already slipped my mind.

At the Santiago Library, I spent time reading Mapuche myths and legends, along with stories from other Indigenous cultures of Chile. The days were slow and restorative. I slept in, ate well, and allowed myself to recover from weeks of steady travel. Well-rested and nourished, I felt ready to move on to my next stop: La Serena—one of Chile’s oldest cities, even predating Santiago, though little remains from its original colonial settlement.