The 41 Best Places to Drink and Stay in Chile

Wood paneling, gilded oil paintings, and chandeliers in the lobby signal exactly the kind of hotel this is before you've even reached the front desk. This five-star Ritz-Carlton sits in Las Condes, Santiago's financial district, and holds a Michelin Key. The English-manor formality is genuine rather than performative, marble bathrooms come stocked with Asprey products, and the Andes views remind you that the city outside is spectacular.

The cylindrical tower has been around forever, first as a Grand Hyatt, now as this luxury hotel anchored by a vast atrium that earns its space. Rooms run to polished hardwood and clean lines, with Andes views from the upper floors. Below, a lagoon pool with a waterfall and sculpted gardens give the whole property a resort feel that Santiago's city streets don't quite prepare you for.

From the right angle, this UFO-shaped hotel reads as a crease in the earth, which is either modest architecture or very confident architecture, depending on how you look at it. It's a full-board luxury resort inside Torres del Paine National Park, holding a Michelin 3 Keys, with all meals, an open bar, guided excursions, and transfers folded into the rate. Forty rooms face Lago Sarmiento and the Paine Massif through floor-to-ceiling glass, and sheepskins are piled onto everything.

Twelve villas sit low against the Torres del Paine peaks, blond wood and geometric lines giving the whole thing a vaguely Nordic look, which is not quite the right word but gets you close. This seasonal resort pairs total comfort with zero fuss: wood-burning stoves, hot tubs, and a kitchen pulling from local land and sea. The real differentiator is a private guide and a 4x4, making every excursion yours alone. Michelin awarded it 3 Keys.

A converted cattle processing plant standing five kilometres outside Puerto Natales, this all-inclusive hotel holds a Michelin 2 Keys distinction and takes industrial chic very seriously. Vintage machinery and weathered brick sit alongside floor-to-ceiling windows framing some of the more convincingly dramatic scenery on earth. The package covers food, wine, and guided excursions into Torres del Paine, which makes the logistics of being at the end of the world someone else's problem.

A rooftop bar with views over most of Santiago sets the tone at this design-forward hotel in the Lastarria quarter, where the Singular group trades Patagonian wilderness for polished urban cool. The spa is genuinely a reason to stay in, and the restaurant applies French technique to Chilean produce. Michelin has given it one Key.

A Gothic-ish landmark from the 1920s with a glass tower grafted on top, Hotel Magnolia is Santiago's first proper design hotel, and it arrived without apology. Art Deco bones meet sleek contemporary furniture and loft-style rooms in warm organic materials, historically informed but not remotely nostalgic. Downstairs there's modern Chilean food and pisco sours; upstairs a rooftop bar looks out over El Centro. It holds a Michelin Key.

Eight private adobe cottages sit along the river in San Pedro de Atacama, furnished with custom-built rustic pieces rather than the usual design-catalog signifiers of luxury. The couple behind it are an architect and a decorator who clearly decided to prove something by going in the opposite direction. Meals, transfers, and excursions in a fleet of 4x4s are all folded into the rate, including nighttime stargazing with an astronomer. It holds 2 Michelin Keys.

The boxy modernist lodge sits yards from the Salto Chico waterfall, with the Paine massif looming behind every window, which makes the interior design feel like a polite suggestion. This luxury resort in Torres del Paine holds a Michelin 2 Keys distinction and keeps its fifty rooms deliberately cozy against the sheer scale outside. Rates cover meals, transfers, and daily expeditions, ranging from gentle walks to genuinely punishing hikes, because Patagonia, not the hotel, is the point.

Terracotta buildings the color of the surrounding Salt Mountains make this all-inclusive desert lodge nearly disappear into the Cordillera de Sal, which is the point. The Andean garden grows indigenous plants and the occasional wandering alpaca, the restaurant pulls from local organic produce, and the spa runs Turkish baths for when the canyon biking catches up with you. Stargazing from a private terrace is a given. A Michelin two-key property, with a three-night minimum.

The lodge rises on stilts above the Chiloé shoreline, its glass walls and industrial timber a deliberate echo of the region's traditional palafito houses. Solar-powered, quietly luxe, and furnished with hand-knitted wool slippers and hand-crafted pieces, it's a design-forward retreat on an island that tends to get overlooked in Chile's greatest-hits itinerary. The hotel runs its own boat for archipelago excursions, and the mussels you pass on the farms tend to reappear at dinner. Michelin awarded it 2 Keys.

A cantilevered granite pool extending into the Colchagua Valley like a series of mountain lakes is the visual thesis of this 29-suite hilltop resort and spa. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame either vineyards rolling toward the Andes or snow-capped peaks, depending on your room. The art collection is serious, the asado is served al fresco with estate wine, and the Vik wine spa earns the trip out on its own. The Michelin Guide awarded it 2 Keys.

A cocktail bar in Barrio Italia where the current menu is organized around precious stones, so you order a ruby or an opal instead of a drink. The Ópalo leans on blended scotch with chestnut and tamarind, which sounds like a dare and drinks like a good idea. The Thai kitchen next door is doing serious work too, but the bar is its own reason to show up.

The rooftop pool looks straight at the Andes, which sets a high bar for everything below it. This design hotel in Las Condes leans into copper panels, mirrored walls, and velvet tones that make the average business-district lobby feel apologetic by comparison. The Nikkei restaurant draws a sharp local crowd even on weeknights. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

A candlelit courtyard garden with a swimming pool sits at the back of this boutique hotel, tucked inside a beautifully preserved old townhouse in Lastarria, Santiago's most gallery-and-cocktail-bar-dense neighborhood. Chandeliers and tiled floors meet boldly painted walls and modern art inside, and the junior suites with private balconies are a meaningful step up from the standard rooms. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

The vermillion facade on Constitución gets noticed before anything else, which is fitting for a boutique hotel that used to be a wealthy family's private home. Original fireplaces, twenties-era fixtures, and dark wood armoires survived the restoration; the elevator did not, so you carry your own bags up. Nineteen rooms sit a block from Pablo Neruda's Santiago house in Bellavista, and the terrace is well-positioned for a glass of local Carménère and watching the neighborhood move.

The custom wooden headboards, each inlaid with original work by Chilean artists, signal what kind of hotel this is before you've even unpacked. Rooms are spacious, the rooftop looks out over Parque Forestal with the Andes sitting behind the city, and the Lastarria neighborhood directly outside is dense with museums, cafés, and good restaurants. It's the Michelin Guide's kind of boutique stay, and the surroundings do half the work.

The marble staircase alone, white and gray with wrought-iron banisters, makes a case for skipping the antique elevator. This boutique hotel in the Lastarria neighborhood occupies a 1920s building designed by the architect behind some of Santiago's most photographed landmarks, and the Art Deco bones are still very much showing: tiled floors, geometric lanterns, octagonal passageways. Guest rooms are contemporary but nod to the era with parquet, velvet, and stained glass. The rooftop has a plunge pool and Andes views.

Five rooms, all with private terraces, tucked behind a Republican-era façade in Barrio Italia, one of Santiago's more quietly creative neighborhoods. Maison Italia 1029 is a small boutique hotel built mostly new by Co2 Architects, all raw concrete and native materials softened into something genuinely warm. The ground-floor Cowork Bar draws in locals alongside guests, so it feels less like a hideaway and more like a neighborhood living room you happen to be sleeping above.

Oak floors and mustard walls give the minimalist rooms here a warmth that the word "minimalist" rarely promises. This downtown hotel sits a short walk from Teatro Municipal, Plaza de Armas, and the Museo Bellas Artes, which makes it a practical base for moving around the historic center. The Copper Room runs a Chilean wine list at lunch, and Gran Café handles the rest of the day. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

The Elqui Valley sits at the edge of the Atacama Desert, which means the skies above CasaMolle are about as dark as they get anywhere on the planet. This 12-room luxury boutique hotel earns a Michelin Key, and its grounds punch considerably above its size: three pools, six outdoor hot tubs, a full-service spa, and a nine-hole par 3 golf course. Rooms lean modern with local textures, and the all-inclusive restaurant pulls much of its produce from the hotel's own gardens.

Eight thousand feet above sea level, surrounded by salt flats and volcanic formations, this all-inclusive desert resort sits in one of the most remote corners of the planet. Architecture crouches low to the earth around stone patios and outdoor pools, with no televisions and no agenda beyond getting you outside. Hotel guides lead treks across salt flats, horseback rides over dunes, and climbs to the rim of a volcano. The bar exists mainly for exhausted hikers to compare notes. It holds a Michelin Key.

Getting here takes a five-hour flight from Santiago, and that's after you've already flown to Santiago. Explora's lodge on Easter Island, recognized with a Michelin Key, earns the trek with small-group guided tours that route around the crowds at the moai sites, covering the island on foot, by bike, and by sea. The architecture rounds and curves like something planted from another century, softened by raw concrete and unfinished wood. A three-night minimum is required.

Near Lake Ranco in northern Patagonia, Futangue is a luxury adventure resort where the spa saunas look out over rainforest and the bathroom products are made from plants growing just outside. Rooms lean into bare wood, leather, and fur without feeling like a hunting lodge cliché, and the restaurant pulls from the Valdivian region's larder. A Michelin Key holder, it earns its keep as a base for fly-fishing, kayaking, and horseback riding in country that feels genuinely far from everything.

Lake Llanquihue sits out front with Osorno volcano on the horizon, and Hotel AWA leans into that view deliberately, positioning each of its sixteen rooms at a diagonal for privacy, sightlines, and sun. The hotelier is an architect who lives on site, and it shows: five stories of concrete, glass, and wood that feel considered rather than constructed. A restaurant, a spa with a heated indoor pool, and excursions by kayak, horseback, or seaplane round things out. It holds a Michelin Key.

Adobe walls, rough-hewn wood, and clean modernist lines hold their own against a volcano on the horizon. This 32-room all-inclusive boutique resort sits in the Atacama Desert, where the landscape reads as either breathtaking or hostile depending on your mood, and probably both. Rooms are spare but genuinely warm to the touch, and everything from airport transfers to guided volcano climbs is folded into the rate. Michelin awarded it one Key.

The mansion at the center of the Santa Rita wine estate has been a National Monument since the 19th century, which gives its 16 rooms a weight that no amount of interior design could fake. This boutique hotel keeps the period finery intact, with only careful modern touches folded in. An outdoor pool, a working winery, and a chapel are all on the grounds, meaning you barely need to leave, which is more or less the point.

A waterfall pours down the side of this hotel. Not a metaphor: the building is shaped like a volcano, wrapped in living moss and ferns, with hobbit-hole windows and a manmade cascade for a facade. Rooms inside are warm with native wood and conspicuously free of televisions, because Chilean Patagonia is doing the entertaining. A private nature reserve surrounds it, with glacial lakes and old-growth forest right outside. Pisco sours by the spa pool handle the evenings.

Forest catwalks connect a dozen treehouse-style bungalows here, deep in a private Patagonian nature reserve where the nearest road is a long drive, and most guests arrive by helicopter or boat. The suites run to fireplaces, soaking tubs, and parquet floors, while outside there's a heated pool, a spa, and a restaurant with woods views on every side. The lodge's name means "Spirit of the Puma" in the local indigenous language, so keep your eyes open.

The rooms here are shaped like mushrooms, which is either the first thing or the last thing you want to hear about a hotel. Set inside a vast private Patagonian rainforest reserve, the lodge leans into its fungal architecture with woody interiors and camp blankets that tip toward treehouse rather than roughing it. A covered walkway connects to a sister hotel with pools, sauna, and a hot tub for whenever the forest starts feeling too sincere.

From the street on Cerro Alegre, it's just a blue house. Inside, it's a boutique hotel that feels more like a well-traveled friend's home than a property, with antique pieces, eclectic decor, and an open kitchen guests can actually use. Breakfast comes daily, evening apéritifs appear as if by habit, and the elevated position delivers a sweeping view over Valparaíso's famously chaotic port. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

Prefab cabins built from lenga wood, a hardy local timber that shows up in nearly every surface inside and out, sit just outside Puerto Natales in an arrangement that feels less like a development and more like something that grew there. This small resort keeps things warm and stylish without trying too hard, and the surrounding Patagonian wilderness, all wind-scraped plains and dramatic water, does most of the decorating.

Sitting on a working farm and cheese dairy at the foot of a snow-capped volcano, this all-inclusive five-star lodge outside Pucón earns its keep before you've unpacked. The farm's own butter and cheese go straight to the kitchen, never to market. Suites have private fireplaces, terraces with hot tubs, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto the river. Daily excursions, from fly-fishing to horseback riding, are folded into the rate, so the only decision is which volcano to stare at over the Carmenere.

Glass walls and terraced gardens overlooking Lago Villarrica have been the whole argument since the Bauhaus-inspired hotel opened, and the view hasn't aged a day. This countryside retreat in Chile's lake district sits on twelve acres of pebble paths, waterfalls, and volcanic rock pools, with a spa carved into the hillside and wood-burning fireplaces in every room. The Sunday asado is the kind of thing you'll rearrange your hike for.

Grass roofs, volcanic stone, and handmade clay soaking tubs: this luxury resort on Easter Island is built to look like it grew here rather than arrived. Low-slung buildings cluster like a village, and private terraces face the ocean. The island's largest pool is a geometric statement. Staff arrange moai and archaeological site visits, but the harbor is a short walk, and coming back here after a long day on Rapa Nui is a reasonable argument for the whole trip.

The Atacama is the driest desert on earth, which makes choosing to build a 51-room hotel here either a provocation or a statement of faith in good air conditioning. Habitas leans into the setting rather than fighting it, with rooms built in traditional regional construction methods, plenty of outdoor lounge space, a small spa, and skies so clear that stargazing counts as an activity. The wood-fired restaurant, Almas, works local Atacaman produce.

The roof is the hillside, grass and all, re-laid over low-slung wood-and-slate buildings designed by Chilean green architect Germán del Sol to disappear into the Patagonian landscape rather than announce themselves. Inside, the eco-lodge gives way to something considerably softer: unfinished wood, organic curves, a sauna, an infinity pool, and a restaurant pulling from local farms and the cold channels nearby. The views are better earned on foot, and guided excursions of every intensity are on offer.