Still AWOL

Am back in Puerto Natales for the day and tonight, to book my flight home and do a few bits and pieces. Have had a brilliant few days so far at the estancia. It´s not as remote as where I stayed in Argentina, but is still a good thirty to forty minutes from a road, and down a very muddy track, hence the jeep getting stuck. The puesto we´re staying in is far cosier than the ones we visited on Argentina, which were literally little huts made of sticks. This is more like a little house, with woodburning stove to cook on, and it heats up really easily so is actually quite cosy. The land is fantastic for riding - it really is horsey heaven - we´re in a lovely flat valley full of knee-high golden grass and little pockets of beech trees that at this time of year are red, yellow and cinnamon. All this is surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and yesterday we spent a day moving 200 or so sheep from one pasture to another, with stunning views of the Torres del Paine. Our destination was Javier´s puesto, where the sheep will be separated into those that are pure Merino and those that aren´t. We stopped for a quick meal and then rode the 7 or 8 km home all at a trot or canter to get back before dark - great practice for the endurance race. It´s so rare that you find somewhere where you can canter for a full five minutes without having to go through a gate, but the pastures here are huge.

Most of Monday was spent shoeing the horses that will be used in the race. The one that had been ear-marked for me was a four year old ´semi-tame´ Arab, which I said without even seeing would be to much for me to handle. I´d last about 2 minutes, if that. James rode her the other day and, whilst he didn´t ride nervously, was clearly very wary of her, and didn´t dare to get off to do any of the gates for fear of not managing to get back on again. It meant I had to do them all, which was good practice for me, but I was so slow and made a complete pig´s ear of most of them. Instead, I´ve been given another four-year old, so still only a baby, but with a completely different temperament, very gentle and calm. In general you have to be extremely careful around these horses - they are completely different from the horses at the previous estancia. They kick out at each other and are rough with each other as a herd. The shoeing was horrible to watch, as some had to be put in a pen in order to have their hind feet done. A leg would then be tied to a horizontal wooden post, but one horse in particular put up such a fight it ended up breaking out of the pen, snapping one of the poles, and by the time it had shoes on it´s hind legs were cut from where it had been kicking out, and it had worked itself into a real sweat. At home, it would probably have been given a sedative injection before shoeing, which I can now definitely see the advantage of.

Tuesday was beautiful weather, so we went up the valley to Hosteria Tres Pasos and the lake beyond. Was a really lovely ride of about 20km, lots of trotting and cantering, and pretty tiring. Was great to have sunshine though, and it was warm enough to fall asleep for 20 minutes while we stopped to rest the horses. Wednesday we had a knock on the door whilst munching porridge - it was the blacksmith who had got his van stuck in the mud the previous night, and had ended up walking back to the estancia in the dark for four hours. I offered to lend a hand, and was all decked out in wellies and waterproof trousers, but was surplus to requirements. Worked out quite well though, as it meant I spent a morning cooking - am loving cooking on the woodburner - it´s like an Aga, you can do slow cooking best.

So today is Friday, and James dropped me off in Natales this morning whilst he will stay in Punta Arenas tonight, and then pick up Ingallil, a Swedish lady who is joining us to train for the race. I was under instructions to buy a leg of lamb from Carne Natales, which is where some of Jose and Tamara, the ranch owners´, meat ends up. But I found out that unfortunately, you can´t just buy a leg, you have to buy a quarter of the lamb (which is huge) so I ended up in a complete pickle, as I bought a leg of mutton first of all, then realised what I´d done, and had to try and change it. So now have a quarter of a lamb and there´s no refrigerator at the puesto. So I´ve taken the executive decision to cook half of it tonight for J and his sister at my hostel in Natales (I´m back in the same one), plus anyone else who happens to be there. I really must try and learn more Spanish, as my lack of it is going to land me in trouble before long, and am feeling completely incompetent! Right, need to nip back and turn it over anyway, so watch this space for more news...

AW(O)L in Patagonia

Well, I´m now ready for my next adventure... Am back in Puerto Natales waiting to meet up with James, the English guy who led our mountain trip whilst on the ranch. He´s spending a few weeks getting a horse fit to compete in an endurance race that takes place in Torres del Paine national park at the beginning of May, and has invited me along to do the same. How can I say no!?! Work have very kindly agreed to let me come back a bit later than planned (thankyou, thankyou!), and it´s a fantastic opportunity - riding in beautiful, remote countryside, and the chance to do something that is well and truly off the ´gringo trail´. Unfortunately the last I heard James was heading out to the estancia on Wednesday, and was supposed to come back here to pick me up yesterday, but rumour has it that he hired a regular car rather than a 4x4 and is now stuck in mud somewhere. It doesn´t bode well, but at least makes me realise that I need to allow days rather than hours to get out to catch my flight home, unless I want to arrive at the airport on horseback.





So, it looks like I will be disappearing off into the wilds of Patagonia again, living in a puesto (small hut made out of sticks - no kidding), cooking on an open fire. I must be mad, but I love the idea...

Tierra del Fuego

On Monday I decided to get a bus down to Tierra del Fuego, el fin del mundo. It took fifteen hours from Puerto Natales, on a crowded bus that did the usual trick of blasting you with baking hot air for half an hour, followed by half an hour of wind chill via the air con. The perfect way to make yourself nice and ill. At some point during the journey the windows became so mud splattered that you couldn´t actually see out of them, so the fifteen hours dragged on even longer than it might have done otherwise. Unfortunately my plan to rely entirely on solar power for the duration of my trip has fallen flat on its face, given that the climate here is similar to the Lake District during winter. By pressing the solar panel right up against the window I was able to get just about enough light to ease the pain of the journey with some music from my Ipod. Hey, when else do you get the chance to listen to non-stop music?

So I arrived in Ushaia late at night, and checked into a nice hostel called Yakush, where one of the guys working there very kindly fixed me some food and gave me some beer - what a welcome. The next day who should show up but Marie! She´d left Natales a few days earlier than me, headed for Punta Arenas. Was great to see her, and we decided to head straight to the park, along with an Ozzie guy called Drouyn. We´d had enough of camping, and opted to stay in the refugio there instead, so she managed to sell her tent to Dougal and Jamie, the two poshest Essex boys I´ve ever met!

The park is huge, but only a small amount is open to the public, so we set off for a walk to Hito XXIV, a patrolled border point with Chile. It was a nice easy walk alongside Lago Roca, the banks of which are covered in the most beautiful, red leaved trees. It looks far more autumnal here than further north, and the air was really still, mist rising from the lake. The frontier is marked by nothing more than a sign that tells you you´re not allowed to cross any further, which of course, immediately makes you want to do the exact opposite.

We were the only people staying in the refugio - it had a lovely woodburning stove which we took turns to keep going throughout the night. Unfortunately it got so hot that the socks I was drying on top of it spontaneously combusted. Ok, that´s a bit of an exaggeration, but they now smell a bit odd and have holes burnt in them.

The second day we set off to walk to Cerro Guanaco, a look out point 1000 odd metres above sea level. It was a steep climb, and really slippery. It also involved peat bogs, and towards the top we were walking in six inches of snow. It got to the point where we could no longer see the path, and the weather was closing in with big snow flakes blowing horizontally at us, so we decided to turn back. It was annoying, as we were so near the top, but wouldn´t have been able to see anything anyway, and it was too cold to hang around and wait for the cloud to clear. We´d had good views of the lakes, and the Beagle Channel when the sky was clearer. You have to get a ferry across the Magellenes Strait (?) to get to Tierra del Fuego, as it´s a whole island that´s separated from the mainland, and I saw seals, and some little black and white dolphins on my way over. On the way back the sea was too rough for us to be allowed out of the bus, so it was a very surreal moment of being on a bus, on a boat, able to see huge waves out of the window, whilst having to listen to crazy 90´s house music and accompanying videos played at full volume. I think I paid more for the journey on the way home, as when I got to Ushaia I could find no trace of the company I´d travelled there with, so just booked with the only company I could find offering the journey. So think I was actually paying extra for the music, along with a couple of empanadas which mysteriously landed in my lap whilst I was asleep.

We had to change buses at Punta Arenas on the way home, and I had a very interesting conversation with a guy who was deaf and mute, which made me realise that perhaps it´s my sign language that´s been improving over the last couple of months rather than my Spanish.

Still in Puerto Natales

Well we never got our asado the other night... J bought the lamb, and lit the fire with a bit too much petrol, but then had so much to drink that he never got round to cooking it. No-one could track him down for ages and then I found him, virtually asleep on the toilet. By the time I got back to the hostel, poor Marie was in tears because she´d been terrorised by J´s over-exciteable puppy in the garden, she´d been standing on one leg trying to shake it off her other leg which it wouldn´t stop biting! So we ended up sticking the lamb in the oven, and when it was done J hacked it up in a frenzied attack with a giant knife that terrified us all, splattering fat all over the kitchen floor, walls, himself and us.

Marie left the next morning, and I´ve survived another couple of days so far. This town is quite surreal, as it´s really tiny, with packs of dogs roaming the streets. It´s been interesting staying here for a few days though, as I think normally you´d only stop here for a night or so before and after a trip to the park. Had a nice day yesterday - went for some lunch with the German girls, and then J had very kindly (guiltily) organised for us to go riding with a friend of his up to Mirador Dorotea, a lookout just out of town, from where you´ve got a great view of the bay, the mountains that are miles away in the park, and Argentina. It was the end of Michelle´s time here after working as a guide all season, so there was a big party last night - this time we managed to cook the lamb in the garden. Was a late night, so am sleepy today.

AG hostel, Puerto Natales

This hostel is hilarious! Have been enjoying a few days doing little more than getting up and making porridge, drinking coffee and chatting to the others that are staying here, nipping out into the cold to go to the internet place to update this blog, and then making a big soup for lunch, afternoon, dinner... It´s run by J, who used to live and work in the national park here, with the horses, and is filled with photos and drawings of horses, tack and headcollars, and other Baqueano bits and pieces. There´s a few of us staying here, from all over the place - a Chilean guy, Angel, who seems to live here and works as a social worker in a nearby village, Favio, a Columbian guy who is working in a local restaurant, Julia, a German girl who runs an arthouse cinema in Frankfurt, her friend Michelle, also German, who works as a guide in the national park, Marcus a Brazilian guy who is here on holiday, Saozig, a Tahitian girl also here on holiday, plus Marie and myself. Everyone´s been here at least a few days, it´s very cozy and fun in an unusual sort of way - we´ve just been doing very simple things like playing cards, cooking and so on.

This morning, J, who is also a musician, serenaded us all with his guitar whilst we had breakfast, and he´s been playing us CDs of his friends singing Patagonian folk songs this afternoon, and is cooking us an asado tonight. The house has polished wooden floorboards, and a strip of carpet running the length of the hall. J always wears shoes, but has little rectangles of sheepskin which he steps onto whenever he wants to leave the carpet, so we´ve been dancing/sliding around the floor on those to various types of music. It´s great staying somewhere where not everyone has the same first language, as it means we´re all defaulting to Spanish, which is good practice for me.

Torres del Paine

Well, we´re back, and we´re back early... Only managed five nights camping.



Day 1 - We set off from the bottom of the tail of the ´Q´, the third and final bus stop. Very windy but beautiful sunshine, and the walking is across lovely flat fields of long yellow grass, with the dramatic scenery of the mountains in the background. We were in high spirits, I think we´d worked ourselves up into a bit of a frenzy about camping for 8 nights - a result of staying at the Erratic Rock hostel for a couple of nights, where everyone is setting off on a similar adventure, and is up until one in the morning packing their bags. The owner of the hostel, Rustyn, does a brilliant and very informative talk every afternoon at 3pm, part of which is about the importance of wrapping absolutely everything in your rucksack in plastic bags, preferably of the Ziplock variety. It´s a great plave to be before setting out, as they give you lots of good advice, but at the end of the day there´s a lot of hype surrounding what is, essentially, a walk in the park, along well-marked trails, and a walk you´ll be doing along with hundreds of other people - not quite the wilderness experience I´d been hoping for. The first day we were only meant to be doing 7 or 8km, as our bags were at their heaviest, with tent, sleeping bags, and nine days worth of food. (I got a bit carried away in the dried fruit shop in Puerto Natales and ended up buying about 2 kilos of the stuff!) However, this only took a couple of hours, so we decided to take advantage of the good weather and press on to the next campsite, Paine Grande. this was a huge campsite, and a bit of a shock after having only seen about three people on the tail of the ´Q´. There was a giant refugio, the size of a hotel, and for the campers a little octagonal hut with glass windows where you could cook, and even three gas rings you could use if needs be. However, it was jam-packed with people, a lot of whom I was hoping we´d seen the last of at the hostel! Not because I didn´t want to bump into them again, but more that for me, the whole point of being self-sufficient for 9 days is that you´re leaving the outside world behind for a bit. Anyway, slept reasonably well - I hired a sleeping bag from the hostel, which although it was bulky did the job a lot better than my tiny one, which is about as much use as a crisp packet in the cold.



Day 2 - We woke up to rain and set off for Campamento Italiano, although again we´d decided to try and push on to the next site, Los Cuernos, in order to make day 3 a bit shorter. Sadly, the weather meant that Valle de Frances, which is normally one of the highlights, was in pretty thick cloud, so rather than go all the way to the top, we dumped our bags at the bottom and walked up only an hour or so beore heading back down. It was still pretty impressive - a huge waterfall, glaciers, snow-covered mountains, all looking like a scene from Lord of the Rings. By the time we got to the campsite we were pretty wet, the pitches were wet, and the tent was still wet from the morning. Luckily, there was again a big room with a woodburning stove that the soggy campers could pile into, although you weren´t allowed to cook in this one, so everyone still had to get wet in order to eat. Inside, I kept on all my waterproof stuff in an attempt to dry it out, and tried to anaesthatise myself with some large doses of red wine. The atmosphere was like being in a bar, and was good fun as everyone was so relieved to have somewhere warm and dry to sit, even though it smelled of wet dog. Chucking out time was about 10pm, when someone came in and announced that peoples´ tents were quite literally blowing away. So there was a mass exodus as everyone ran outside, desperately hoping that they weren´t one of the unlucky ones. A few days later we met up with ´Mr Northface´, an American guy we´d met at Fitzroy, whose tent we´d all been admiring for how tiny it packed away - apparently he couldn´t even find his tent that night, had ended up bundling in with Tige, (an Irish guy whose name I can´t remember how to spell), and had found his tent the next morning, hanging in a tree! I woke up in the morning to find that a mouse had eaten its way into my rucksack and made a start on my nougat - a cartoon-like corner had been nibbled away.

Day 3 - Was nothing but misery... It rained all day, and at one point I was having to force myself to keep walking, on the basis that moving people don´t get hypothermia. We walked across one boggy valley and the wind was like ice. We´d been tramping through ankle-deep mud, and both of my boots were full of cold water. I ended up cursing lots, stamping my feet like a five-year old, and stabbing the ground with my walking poles - I was furious with myself and asking what on earth had possessed me to think that setting off for a trek carrying the weight of a four year old on my back would be good fun. We made it to Chileno, and the refugio was shut as it´s the end of the season, so we huddled with some others under the porch, and cooked some cuppa soup. You know things are bad when a chicken cuppa soup turns out to be the best thing about your day. Poor Marie didn´t even have a waterproof jacket, despite the fact that her Mum works at Millets in Manchester! She was following Rustyn´s advice (from Erratic Rock) - no matter what the weather does, just let your ´stink uniform´ (the same clothes you wear for 9 days on the trot) get wet. She´d obviously missed the bit where he said that if it rained for more than ten minutes you were allowed to put your Gortex on over the top. I stood under a tree and let a group of about ten people walking in the opposite direction, ie. homeward bound, pass by, smiling cheerfully and saying ´hola´in my best Spanish as though I was having the best holiday ever, and then dissolved into tears after the last one had gone by. Fortunately myself and Marie seemed to have a similar sense of humour - the worse things got, the more we laughed - there were actually points when I would be lying in my sleeping bag rigid with cold during the early hours of the morning, and would just crack up laughing at the sheer idiocy of what we were doing in the name of fun. However, after our cuppa soup on day 3, we both decided we´d had enough and just wanted to go home. So we set off in the direction of the park entrance and walked for about five minutes before deciding we were being complete wimps, and doing a U-turn and setting off in the opposite direction, which the others who were still sheltering under the porch found intriguing. So that night we camped at Campamento Torres, the site at the base of the legendary Los Torres. It was absolutely sopping wet - you literally had to pick which puddle to pitch the tent in. There was a 3-sided shack with a mud floor to cook in. However, I felt lucky compared to some people, who were completely unprepared for spending the night halfway up a mountain - there was a couple who didn´t have sleeping mats or a cooking stove who must have been freezing during the night. One young guy from County Durham had carried yeast and flour up the mounatin with him so that he could make himself bread! I asked him how he was going to cook it, and he reckoned he could do it the way you do bagels (apparently boiled first then lightly panfried!) Needless to say, this is pretty impossible on a camping stove, which he didn´t have anyway, but he managed to persuade the refugios to let him use their ovens! All I could think about was cooking the instant mashed potato as quickly as possible and getting into my sleeping bag before I got any colder. I did this and must have pretty much passed out, as I only found out in the morning that cheeky Marie had managed to talk her way into the park ranger´s hut where she spent the evening by the stove drinking mulled wine! Grrrr....

Day 4 - Anyway, there was no way we were going to follow Rustyn´s advice about getting up before sunrise and climbing the final hour or so up to the Torres to see the sun light them up all red and pink like it does on the postcards (hey, that´s what Photoshop´s for!) Instead, we stuck our noses out of the tent at about 8am, saw to our horror/delight that it was snowing, and went back to sleep for a bit. When we got up, it really was so cold you just had to move in order to have any chance of getting warm, so we put the tent down, guzzled down some porridge, and set off up to Los Torres. It was great walking without the bags weighing us down, and despite thick cloud and snow we managed to see the infamous pilllars of rock, which felt like an achievement in itself. So we were on good form heading back down to Hosteria Las Torres, I was mainly thinking of the Irish coffee I was going to celebrate with once I arrived. Once we made it there, we´d have the choice of going home on the 7pm bus, or staying on to do a bit more. Of course, we decided to stay on - gluttons for punishment. I never did get my Irish coffee, but had to celebrate with a creamy coffee, and a huge measure of whisky instead, which was one of those ´measures´ where they just pour, and pour, and keep pouring. Marie had gone to sort out her feet, which were starting by now to show signs of the beginnings of trenchfoot! When she came and found me 20 minutes later I was bright red with alcohol and windburn, and giggling like a lunatic. This was the only campsite where you could light a fire, so we made the most of it. There was also the luxury of hot water to wash the pot in, so at the end of the night we filled our metal drinking bottles and used them as hot water bottles - a real treat.

Day 5 - We caught the bus down to the second bus stop in order to get the catamaran over the lake, and hike up to Refugio Grey so that we could see the glacier there. Unfortunately, we were running a bit late and ended up having to run across the field with our bags to get to the bus stop in time, whilst clutching the ´magic porridge pot´ - realising what the time was we´d just stuck the lid on it and done a runner, so ended up eating it on the bus. The walk up to Grey is one of the nicest we did, and we were really lucky to get some sunshine, and clear skies, which meant great views of the glacier and beyond. The campsite at Grey was right by a lake with huge chunks of ice that had broken off the glacier floating in it, and was a lot less busy than most. Again, it had a nice cosy room where you could hang out and have a beer. We met a cheeky English couple who basically asked us to cook porridge for them in the morning - they´d carried oats up the mountain, but had no means of cooking them. It was a really chilly campsite, despite being dry, so I had to put all my normal clothes back on over the top of my thermals, and actually slept really well.

Day 6 - We set off back down the mountain in the morning, to get the 12.30 catamaran back, but ended up kicking ourselves as the day turned out to be stunning - really clear and sunny - and we wished we´d kept going and stayed out another night which would have meant we could have seen the glacier from above, and also seen beyond to the Southern Continental Ice Field. It was a shame, but at the same time, I was ready to call it a day - five nights sleeping on cold hard ground means you wake up aching - and nice to leave feeling that you´d like to come back one day. We got amazing views of the mountains from the boat, and again from the bus back to Puerto Natales. All in all, a memorable trip! When we arrived back in Natales, we got off the bus opposite Erratic Rock, and who should come running out of the talk there but Rebecca from El Chalten! Was great to see her and Paddy, and we went for some food with them - they were heading off to the park the next day, and then to get the Navimag.

So today, have done very little - some laundry, some internet and so on. We´re staying at a really nice chilled out hostel called AG, round the corner from Erratic Rock, who didn´t have room for us as we´d come back early. Has worked out well though, as Erratic Rock was lovely and cosy and had nice cats to cuddle, but very intense and full of exciteable people getting ready to go off on their adventures in the park, whereas here has the Chilean equivalent of Magic FM playing on the radio...

Puerto Natales

Well, it´s been a busy few days. After meeting up with Paddy and Rebecca on the fun bus, (he from Manchester, she from Perth), and Marie (also from Manchester), the four of us formed the Muppet Team and set off to explore the National Park at El Chalten. We camped out for two nights, the first at Poincenot, at Los Tres, from which you can walk up to the glacier and lake directly below Fitzroy Massif. There´s actually two lakes up there, the second being a beautiful bright blue laguna that looked really deep. We were so lucky with the weather - it was incredibly windy climbing up there, you sometimes had to virtually sit on the ground and hug a rock, but lovely sunshine. It was even windier when we got down, but it calmed down just before sunset, and the remaining clouds cleared to give us a perfect view of the almighty rock! It put on quite a show - beautiful clouds that swirled around the peaks like puffs of smoke, and the sky glowed orange and pink as the sun went down.


We got up the next morning, and walked to the third of the Tres Lagos, at Piedras Blancas. There was another glacier there, a blue one, and we had to scrabble over huge boulders to get a view of the lake. It was only an hour or so each way, but after that we had to take the tent down and walk on to the next campsite at Agostini, at Lago Torre. Didn´t sleep very well at this one, and Paddy and Rebecca´s gas had run out, so we ate biscuits and olives for dinner, and soaked some oats in water overnight to have for breakfast. Not great, but an important lesson to learn! Walked along the side of the lake to a huge glacier in the morning, before packing up camp and heading back to El Chalten. Slept really badly again even in my nice comfy hostel bed, as it was ridiculously windy (again), and the four of us were up again first thing to get a bus to El Calafate.

Arrived there yesterday lunchtime, and went to see the Perito Merino glacier in the afternoon. It was an expensive tourist trap, but very impressive all the same. Think I was slightly hysterical with tiredness though, as I spent a lot of time just giggling like a lunatic at nothing in particular. there were a lot of very rich-looking tourists there, all taking the exact same shot of each other with the glacier in the background. I eventually succumbed to the Disneyland atmosphere, and treated myself to a very expensive chocolate brownie and an Irish coffee, which calmed me down a bit! We all stayed in a lovely hospedaje near the bus station, and then myself and Marie got a bus to Puerto Natales this morning and are now at the Erratic Rock hostel, and Paddy and Rebecca are getting a bus down to Ushaia this afternoon. I may manage to meet up with them agan later, as they´re heading here before getting the Navimag (big boat) to Puerto Montt.

So, am back in Chile again, and giving myself what feels like a hard-earned rest after a busy few days. Will spend tomorrow doing a bit of washing, and getting equipment and food sorted out for doing some hiking in Torres del Paine national park on Thursday. Myself and Marie are thinking of doing the whole circuit, or the ´Q´, in addition to the well-trodden ´W´, so will be a long trip - I think it´s 8 or 9 nights camping out, along with carrying all our gear, so imagine it will be a tough few days. An American girl has also asked to join us, so will be interesting to see how the new team works out. Half of me wishes I was doing it on my own, partly for the feeling of being totally self-reliant, but I´m hoping we´ll have fun, not all fall out with each other, and have an enjoyable experience all round. Fingers crossed... (After going out for some food with the American girl that night, she failed to show up in the morning ready to go to the park, and we later heard from someone else staying at her hostel that she´d been spotted getting on a bus to Ushaia!)

El Chalten

Well I made it here to El Chalten on the fun bus... It left Bariloche at 9pm on Tuesday, but after five minutes the overhead lights stopped working, so we had to spend a delightful hour and a half at the depot while they sorted it out. Not that anyone would have cared anyway, beacause as soon as they got the lights working again and we were on our way, everyone switched them off again and went to sleep. We finally made it here at 6 o´clock this morning, Thursday, an epic 33 hours on the famous Ruta 40. It´s a long way, but really it takes so long because the road isn´t very good - even the ´sealed´ sections are incredibly bumpy, and at some points we were probably only doing about 20km per hour. The landscape was incredibly flat and barren for the majority of the way - nothing in the way of farmland, just desert scrub, and very little in the way of wildlife either - I saw a few guanacos (like llamas), a couple of hares, and a hawk-like bird, along with the rib-cages of a couple of dead animals.



The bus stopped every so often to pick up people in random locations - some of the little towns looked tiny. Then we had a couple of hours at the airport at Perito Moreno (the town, not the glacier of the same name) waiting for a connecting bus, before another trip to the local depot whilst they fixed something on this one too. We finally arrived in El Chalten at about 6 in the morning after a very long 33 hours, and woke up to wind and rain. No-one had a clue where in El Chalten we´d all been dropped, but managed to find a hostel whose door was open so all piled in there. Luckily it was the one I´d emailed anyway, so I had a bed reserved. It´s actually turned out nice this afternoon, but this morning was dismal weatherwise. It looks a bit like North Wales on a bad day - slate grey sky. the town itself is tiny, and has only recently got internet (very slow) and an ATM. After a long bus ride together at least I´ve not met up with some other people to do some of the walks with, although I´m trying to decide whether to camp, or just make the most of the fact that you can do walks wihtin a day, and return to the hostel at night.

Had a brilliant few days walking in Bariloche in the end... I set off on my own on Saturday and walked to Refugio Frey - a fairly easy walk along well-marked, sandy tracks. The refugio was set on the edge of a beautiful blue lake. You could camp there too, but I paid for a bed in the dorm, which was one room in the upstairs of the hut, stuffed full of mattresses not only on the floor, but on a whole other layer above the first layer too. I paid to have dinner and breakfast there too, so as not to have to carry loads of food with me, and all in all it cost about 100 pesos for food and accommodation, about 25 quid, so expensive by traveller standards, but not too bad.

The second day I walked onwards towards Refugio San Martin at Lago Jakob, but the walking was much more difficult - some really steep ascents where at points I had to push my rucksack up ahead of me as I didn´t have the strength to hoist myself up whilst wearing it. I didn´t mind the ascents too much, but the descents were terrifying - there were some fun bits which were very steep but sandy, and you could almost ski on the sand, but there were other bits where I was literally on my hands and knees coming down the rocks backwards. I´d set off early in the hope that if anything happened to me at least there´d be people behind to help, and some did catch me up on the last descent - an Irish guy, Steve, and a gorgeous German guy, Julian, who was only 22 but worked as a paramedic whilst waiting to start a degree in medicine. If I had to be rescued by anyone he was the perfect candidate! They were camping and had a pretty miserable night, as, after a beautiful day the weather turned miserable - rianing, and really windy. They polished off a huge amount of food between them - first a whole packet of spaghetti and sauce, then the remains of a giant bowl of ravioli topped with meat stew that I got given as my dinner but couldn´t finish, then the best part of a whole other pack of spaghetti with more sauce - the rest they took in a ziplock bag for lunch the next day. It still looked like bad weather in the morning, so we all set off together, but the day turned out ok in the end. The walking was really easy compared to the previous day, mainly following a river which was really clear and had some parts which would have made great places to swim had the weather been even warmer. The end bit involved a long stretch back to the main road to get a bus back to Bariloche, but we were really lucky, and just as we were getting totally fed up of the monotony, a couple in a pick-up pulled up and gave us a ride all the way back to the town centre. Great fun, we all had big grins on our faces at this point!

I enjoyed doing most of the walk on my own, but was equally nice to meet up and have some company, and we went for some celebratory food when we got back, which turned into some celebratory beers in their hostel, and ended up as a bit of a late one. When I went to bed there was no-one in my dorm, but woke up feeling a bit rough in the morning to the dulcet tones of the person on the bunk below snoring, and a bare hairy arse sticking out of the duvet on the bunk opposite. Am getting too old for this dormitory malarky! At some point must treat myself to a really nice room somewhere and some decent food. Food here in El Chalten is pretty limited - very litle fresh fruit and veg, and what there is, isn´t great quality, so am having to be inventive to say the least.

Bariloche

Am now in Bariloche and a bit fed up... I spent the last couple of days in a lovely new hostel in San Martin de los Andes, a four hour bus ride south from Zapala. It was a gorgeous little town, set alongside a lake and nestled among mountains, but very touristy in the same way that the Lake District towns are at home. There are a lot of excursions on offer, but it seems to be difficult to get the information and maps to just get up and go out hiking on your own, without your own transport. I spent all of yesterday pottering around, whilst waiting to hear about whether or not I could do a 2 day trip to climb to the top of nearby Volcan Lanin - I couldn´t. So this morning got a bus at 7.45 down to Bariloche, via the Ruta de Siete Lagos, a famously beautiful road that passes through a string of seven lakes. Most of it was over unpaved roads, so slow and bumpy, and I may as well have got the speedier bus instead, as I just couldn´t stay awake, so missed out on lots of the scenery. It was a grey, cloudy morning, but I think that´s just coincidence rather than because I´ve come further south, but all looked a bit dismal anyway.

So I´ve just scoffed down a massive hamburger and chips, and am working out what to do next. I´ve realised that I haven´t really got much interest in seeing small, touristy towns - my whole reason for being here is to get out into the countryside. But how to do that on my own without a car is what I need to sort out. I think if I want to see the Perito Moreno glaciar and go trekking at Fitzroy, near El Chalten, I may have to do it as part of a tour. I´ll then make my way to Puerto Natales, to go to Torres del Paine national park, where I´ve already been in touch with a hostel there which helps people organise their own trips within the park. It also turns out that the owners are friends of James, who led our mountain trip at the ranch. He´s heading down there at the beginning of April, to get a horse he has fit for an endurance ride at the beginning of May. Sounds amazing, and I´m in two minds as to whether to try to change my flight home so that I could stay and do the actual race, but even if I don´t, I will try to meet up with him for some more riding. Right, in the meantime I´m off to find out about hiking!

Yaaaaay! Have finally found the sort of think I´m after, ie. NOT a day spent in a bus looking at the lakes and mountains from the window. Went to the Club Andino Bariloche, where they have excellent information about how to get to the start of hikes, and about refugios you can stay in en route. So I´m setting off tomorrow morning, and plan to spend one night in Refugio Frey, then walk to Refugio San Martin on Sunday, and then walk back to complete the circuit on Monday. There were quite a few people asking similar questions, so I´m hoping that I´ll be able to meet up with some along the way, especially to do the bit between the two refugios. You have to register at the Club Andino, and let them know your plans, but I don´t think they do anything unless someone files a specific report that you´re missing, so have also given the hostel I´m staying in written details of where I´m off to. Have been looking on the internet today as well, and looks like you can do a similar sort of thing in El Chalten - a number of walks are possible within a day, or half a day, from El Chalten itself.

It´s quite expensive to get a bus down that far, about 80 pounds, but then it´s virtually a 30 hour journey, so I guess it´s quite reasonable really. I´m not sure whether to do it in two chunks, or just bite the bullet and get it all over in one go - think I might do that, otherwise I´ll just be arriving in yet another new place and having to work out where everything is and so on...

The ranch...

Wow! Have had a truly amazing month! I´ve decided not to post everything I wrote whilst I was there, as I just don´t think I could do it justice, but suffice to say I´ve had a lot of fun and have loved the whole experience. The ranch completely lived up to expectations in terms of just how remote it was, and one of the highlights for me was the fact that there was no one around to ride back out with me to the midway point when I left last week, so I had to do it on my own. A month earlier, being in that much open space with no real idea of which direction I should be heading in would have terrified me, but riding out with just a small back pack full of the essentials (water, homemade granola, and a few spare clothes), on a beautiful, trustworthy horse, is something I´ll never forget. I shed a few tears along the way, especially stopping for a moment on the crest of a hill for a last look back at the valley in which the ranch nestles. It´s a very special place.



The best thing for me was living so close to nature, not only in terms of location but, for example, chopping wood to light a fire to cook, living in a little wooden house built without nails, showering outdoors looking up at the trees whilst I washed my hair, waking up with the sun, racing to get things done before dark as I had no electricty in my house, walking by moonlight, amazing nights spent lying on horse blankets looking up at stars, seeing shooting stars from my window, sleeping with the windows wide open and feeling the breeze in the night, going to bed by candle light.



Of course, the horses also played a huge part. They live as a herd in El Mundo, a giant valley of a pasture, and have to be rounded up on horseback. I´m not sure who was rounding up whom when I tried to do this, but it was a good laugh! They live a very simple life, only eating what they forage for, and are used less for fun, and more as a means of transport through the rugged landscape. I enjoyed getting to know them - to begin with they were quite aloof - and trying to pick one out of the herd to catch once they´d been rounded up into the corral usually ended up in a mini stampede, me standing in the middle with ten or so horses and a few cattle racing round me in circles. As the days went on though they became easier to catch and I don´t think I´ve ever met such willing, yet reliable horses. You didn´t need to tie them up, just drop the rope and most would stand exactly where you left them. Mana was one of my favourites, a little dun coloured mare, she was the sort of horse that seemed to do what you wanted just by thinking it.



It was great being able to go off exploring, either or horseback or on foot, and one of my favourite places was Confluencia, a spot where two rivers met. There was a great swimming hole there, and I spent lots of time reading, or going for dips in the river and drying in the sun. A few of us camped out for a couple of nights too, riding back first thing in the morning in time to start working, the sun making the mountains behind us glow pink. There´s a graceful row of poplar trees that marks the spot.



I´ve also met some great people, and seen something of a completely different way of life and culture. I´ve made numerous mistakes in drinking mate, a kind of tea, from saying ´gracias´which means you don´t want any more, to slurping it too loudly, but all have been taken in good humour. I´ve attempted to drink red wine in the traditional way, from a squeezy goat skin bottle that doesn´t touch your lips, but you have to squirt it into your mouth. A lot of my clothes have the marks to show that I never quite got the hang of it. I´ve eaten a lot of goat and spent a lot of time laughing with gauchos despite the fact that even after a month I can barely understand a word they say!



My eight day trip up into the high mountains is also something I´ll remember forever. I didn´t want it to end... Reaching places that only a handful of people will ever see, meeting the people that work this land and call it their home and enjoying their hospitality despite the fact that they have so little. The trip had a certain spontanaeity to it, we´d meet a gaucho along the way, and the plan for the day would change - we´d ride over to his puesto, usually nothing more than a little hut made from sticks, and spend the afternoon round a fire enjoying an asado, a side of goat spit-roasted over the coals. One day turned into a complete party in a cave, and I ended up sleeping in the cave under a big pile of ponchos, an unbelievable place to wake up! We ate fish fresh from the river, I was persuaded to eat deep fried fish heads doused in lemon juice, and we´d gnaw on goat ribs in the firelight, or pull a leftover one out of our saddle bags to munch on whilst riding along the next day. We bathed in thermal springs, covered ourselves in hot black mud, and then washed it off in icy cold river water. We were joined along the way by herds of horses, not wild, but roaming freely in the mountains and pastures, shiny coated and galloping and bucking just for the fun of it. All in all, brilliant!

Bring on the next adventure!

Zapala 2

Woke up this morning thinking in Spanish! Well, when I say thinking in Spanish, I was thinking of various things I need to do today, and how to ask the necessary questions. So far, I´ve managed to change hotels - I walked to the one that I was meant to be in, but it´s further out of town, and more than twice the price of the one I was in last night. Admittedly, it looked a lot posher, with a big casino that can only be described as Argentine bling, but I´d rather spend the money on nice food. So I swapped to the hotel over the road from the one I stayed in last night (which is now full). Both are pretty run-down and very basic, but clean and functional and about 12 quid per night. Last night I got very lucky on the food front, as I went to the restaurant next door and ordered a steak which came in a delicious mustardy sauce, with a big pile of roasted vegetables - sweet potatoes, pumpkins, courgettes, aubergines, carrots and onions. Was very glad I hadn´t ordered a starter as well, as it was a huge portion - probably big enough for two - but I hadn´t had a proper lunch, only the stuff they handed out on the bus, so managed to scoff the lot.

Am now at El Chancho Rengo, a cafe at the main crossroads in town, enjoying a late morning coffee. Realised I accidentally stole the room key from my hostel in Temuco yesterday, so I´ve managed to make an envelope and stick it together with sticking plaster to post back to them. I´ve made a new friend too - the dog from the hotel I'm staying in, who followed me through town and into the post office, and is now lying by my feet.

Zapala is actually a very nice town - only small, but it has a good feel to it, and seems a bit wealthier than Temuco. You wouldn't want to spend long here, as far as I can tell there isn´t much to do, but it's an ok place to spend the day waiting for my pick-up tomorrow. Think I'll book somewhere to stay the night here for when I come back from the ranch, but am not sure about booking a bus or anything as yet, as I was hoping to pick other peoples' brains about where to go next, and don't necessarily want to make definite plans in case I want to stay on at the ranch.

The sun is so hot here - the air isn't too hot when you're in the shade, but think I'm really going to struggle at the ranch in this heat. Will have to be surgically removed from my baseball cap! Have also brought a couple of scarves and loads of sun-cream, so will just have to stay wrapped up - will probably come back whiter than when I went away, which is what usually happens.

Ok, will say ciao for now, as I'm not sure when I'll next get the chance to update you on my adventures - probably early March, as I plan to leave the ranch on the 10th or 11th, but I guess it depends slightly upon what date other people there plan to leave, as it sounds like it's a bit of an epic journey - I get picked up from Zapala tomorrow, then it's a three or four hour drive to the trail-head, where we swap four wheels for four legs, to do the last 15 miles or so on horseback, including a river crossing. (Yes, Mum, I promise to wear my riding hat!) Am slightly concerned about what happens to my very heavy rucksack at this point, as I can see everything ending up completely soaked, but I've got a fairly large, rubber dry-bag to put the essentials in. Am also hoping that I might be able to fill it with water during the daytime once on the ranch, to heat up in the sun, so that I can have some sort of bath/shower with it in the evening, as I think the alternative is heating water on a wood-burning stove which sounds pretty time-consuming. We'll see... there's a lot of unknowns about this whole trip, but I think it will be an adventure one way or the other - just hope it's a good type of adventure.

Lots of love to you all - hasta luego!

Zapala 1

Hotel Pehuen, Elena de Vega y Etchulez, Zapala, 02942 - 423135

Am so glad I booked into this hotel! It couldn´t have been easier to find once I got to the bus terminal at Zapala - a very different story to yesterday´s clueless wandering. I was up at 6 this morning ready to get my bus from Temuco to Zapala, over the Andes. Maggi, the lady at the hostel very kindly phoned for a taxi for me, which was only about 2,000 pesos - just over two quid - and two quid well spent as the bus went from a completely different terminal to the one that I arrived at from Santiago, and would have gone to otherwise. I knew there were a few terminals, and had asked a couple of people whether Igi Llaima (the one I had to go from) was the same one that I arrived at, but obviously hadn´t been making myself understood... oops!

Anyway, despite having to pass through two lots of customs, this journey was a lot less stressful than the previous one. I had a very entertaining converstaion with the lady sitting next to me, Eva, who was also going to Zapala. A combination of charades and looking things up in the dictionary meant we actually managed to have a reasonable chat. There was a lot of discussion between her and two girls in the seats next to us as to whether or not I should attempt to eat my four ciruelas (plums) before we got to the Argentine border crossing, where all fruit is confiscated. In the end it was decided that it wasn´t a good idea as the sign on the toilet door on the bus said that you were only allowed to urinate in the toilet - nothing else!

Anyway, I'm now holed up in my hotel room and it's about 6pm. Feel like I should be out and about exploring Zapala (it´s not very big) but I don't have a map of the town, and to be honest, the last few days have been hard work just getting from A to B, so I'll leave it until tomorrow. I'm hoping that I can just get some food in the hotel tonight, and pay when I pay for the room tomorrow as I've got no Argentinian money yet, the bank is shut as it's Sunday, and I was hoping to change some of my US dollars so I'm not carrying them around all the time.

Must also try to learn some more Spanish, as, even in Santiago I only met a couple of people who spoke good English. Since leaving there on Friday, not only has nobody spoken any English whatsoever, but I haven´t even seen anyone who looks like they´re anything other than Chilean or Argentinian, which is great, but scary at the same time as I'm not only having to be very self-reliant, but also rely very much on the help and kindness of strangers, something I rarely need to do in London.

The bus ride through the mountains was great - on the Chilean side it started off as farmland that could have been southern France, or maybe even England in places, except the trees are different. Saw someone cutting hay with a machine pulled by cattle, and then as we climbed higher there were lots of pine trees and rivers. On the Argentinian side of the Andes it looks much, much drier, a vast landscape broken only by outcrops of rocky hills, and clusters of what look like poplar trees. There are also lots of monkey-puzzle trees, which from what (I think) Eva was saying, is where pine nuts come from. It certainly looks as though it will be really hot for riding.

Temuco

Hospedaje Maggi Alvarado, Recreo 209, off Av. Alemania, Temuco

The last 24 hours have been a bit of a struggle! Managed to get myself to the bus terminal for my night bus, but I´ve never seen so many people all looking lost! It was absolutely rammed. Fortunately they´d written on my ticket which row of platforms my bus was going from, but even so, it was still a choice of seven, so had to keep battling my way through with all my baggage everytime I saw a Pullman bus, as I knew that was the company I was travelling with. It ended up being an hour late, maybe more, I´m not sure as my watch has no battery (although I´ve managed to replace that today) and my phone had died. I finally managed to find some other people that were waiting for the same bus - a family, with two daughters going off to Valdivia, being seen off by their parents.

Was great once it arrived - the seats really do fold right down so they´re virtually like beds. No meal - think I´d got the idea that they actually gave you dinner on board, like on a plane, but you got a box with a brownie, some fruit, a drink, and the Chilean equivalent of a jammy dodger! Five minutes or so into the journey they switched off the lights, and that was it - everyone snoring. I slept for a bit, but then woke up with an extremely itchy face - I think it´s a combination of sun, and just the general thing of being away from home and out of a routine. Anyway, there was no way I could go back to sleep like that, so took an antihistamine, which knocked me out shortly afterwards, and next thing I knew, we were there! I think that could be the way to go from now on...

So, arriving at Temuco first thing in the morning was a bit nerve-wracking. There was the usual gaggle of taxi drivers ready to whisk you off for extortionate prices, which, in retrospect, might have been a good idea. I opted for a local bus instead, which only took me as far as the rural bus terminal. Once there, I had no idea which onward bus to get, so started walking instead which would have been fine, except the only hostel I´d managed to book was off the map in the guide book. Again, this may have worked, had the guide book mentioned that it wasn´t a street directly off the main road, but rather a street off another street! Oh, and to make it worse there were two streets with the name I was looking for, so doubly confusing for anyone trying to give me directions. I eventually found it, and was absolutely exhausted as I must have walked a good couple of miles carrying the equivalent of a sack of potatoes on my back. After a quick shower I ventured out again, under strict instructions as to which of the little buses to take - ironically there was a bus-stop about 100 yards from the front door. I suppose people just assume you´ll get a taxi and don´t think to tell you these things.

Anyway, I wandered back to the big food market that had been setting up as I got off the bus in the morning, and spent a couple of hours just watching what was going on. It was mainly food, and a lot of it just people sitting on the kerb with produce they´d grown at home, in addition to the bigger stalls. I sat next to a lady selling runner beans (approximately 15p per kilo) and watched her fill a bag for a customer, then nip over to one of the stall-holders to borrow their scales - she´d got it bang on one kilo... very impressive! I bought some bread and cheese and a couple of empanadas, (breaking my golden rule of never eat meat from the street, especially not in the heat!) Would have loved to have bought things to make a salad, but I don´t think you could have bought just one piece of something. Was great fun and kept getting wafts of lovely fresh herbs as people were walking around with big bunches of coriander for sale. There were horses and carts, but not the tourist type, as I haven´t seen anyone else vaguely European all day, and a cart pulled by cattle too. I did see a few shops which seemed to specialise in carne equino, their sales boards complete with pictures of prancing ponies, and there was some great looking seafood on sale as well. I wish I´d been feeling brave enough to give it a try, (the seafood that is, obviously not the horse meat) but it´s such a hustle-bustle atmosphere I´d have just felt like a bit of a dim-wit with my lack of Spanish, not really knowing what I was ordering.

I also wish I´d been brave enough to take my camera along, but feel as though I stand out as a foreigner enough as it is, and don´t want to do anything else to draw attention to myself. That said, I expect most people were so busy going about their daily stuff anyway that they would barely notice. I don´t know, I suppose I´m just a bit wary whilst finding my feet. The hostel here is nice - seems more like a B&B really, and I´ve got my own room (yay!) which is good as I´m knackered and have an early start tomorrow. It´s quite a bit cooler here, although still very hot in the afternoon. My hands and feet look a bit brown, although it´s probably just dirt. Had a sneaky mid-afternoon nap, as when I got back from town there was no-one home, so had to sit outside, fortunately only for an hour, and luckily in some shade, but enough to make me sleepy. The lady has a mischievious poodle called either Perla or Bella, I haven´t quite worked out which - it went for a shampoo today so is very fluffy! Was making the most of all the attention, and is actually quite entertaining for a small dog...

Santiago 2

Arrived at Che Legarto hostel (Tucapel Jimenez, 24, Santiago) yesterday morning, a bit hot and bothered after walking only about 8 blocks. I´ve brought so much stuff with me, my bag weighs a tonne, but at the same time I seem to have brought the bare minimum - lots of it is winter stuff, which takes up loads of space, but at the moment that´s a bit of a joke as the temperature must be in the high twenties at the moment.

So, yesterday I headed over to the Parque Metropolitano, with plans to amble around, visiting the gardens, and maybe dangling my feet in one of the two outdoor pools they have there. What I hadn´t realised is just how big it is, and that you really need a car to get around. So ended up going up the hill to the viewpoint on another funicular railway, and then terrifying myself on a cable car that covered a fair stretch of the park. Then I decided to walk to the Museo Nacionale de Bellas Artes, through the Parque Forestal, which was also further than it looked. Was a bit hot by the time I got there, and in serious need of some lunch, so got the metro to the main square, Plaza de Armas. It was busy and touristy, and I unwittingly became the lunchtime entertainment for the surrounding tables of Chileans, who interrogated me in Spanish and found my complete lack of comprehension hilarious. It was all very good humoured though, and one of the women helped me translate the menu, and her friend then took a photo of me eating my tortilla de papas and tomato salad, which was all a bit strange! At the other two tables were a middle-aged couple, and a young guy who spoke very good English and acted as translator whilst they quizzed me about why on earth I was travelling on my own and wasn´t I scared? When the couple left I stayed chatting to the young guy, Jonathan, who had done a degree in hotel management, but now wanted to study to become an English teacher. His English was impeccable, and he´d obviously put a lot of effort into achieving a really good accent. He´d spent a month in Hertfordshire visiting a girl he´d got chatting to on the internet, who turned out to be the sister of Rupert Grint, the actor who plays Harry Potter´s ginger friend!

I wanted to see the Frieda Khalo exhibition, so he came along to that (we were in hysterics laughing at her mono-brow), and then took me on a guided tour of the city, which was great as I could take my nose out of the guide book, and will now leave feeling as though I´ve seen the best bits. We climbed up Cerro Santa Lucia, which has an incredible 360 degree view of the whole of Santiago. You can see why the pollution could be so bad, as the whole city is basically in a bowl, surrounded by high hills. We then wandered to the Lastarria district, which seemed a lot more upmarket than where I´m based, and sat drinking tea into the evening. I had my first taste of Mate, which is like strong, bitter green tea, but very refreshing. I really feel I´ve been very well looked after by complete strangers since I´ve been here, let´s hope it continues!

The Che Legarto hostel is nothing to write home about, but, having arrived to be told that although they had my reservation, they didn´t actually have a bed for me, I was grateful that they managed to shuffle thing around and find me a bunk. Unfortunately I was on the top one and there wasn´t a ladder, so, after refusing the offer of a leg-up from the Irish guy on the bunk below me I had to manouvre myself up with the help of the radiator and the windowsill! Still, it was only for one night, and they´ve let me leave my bags here today, and come back for a shower before I head off for my night bus to Temuco tonight, so I can´t complain.

Today, I headed over to the city cemetary, on the recommendation of Larry, the Irish guy. It was a bit of an adventure, as it was off my map, but you could hardly miss it, it was so huge. Am not sure why, but I always like cemetaries, and this one was incredible, just for how vast it was. There were literally loads of what looked like blocks of houses from a distance, but up close they turned out to be made up of commemorative plaques. There were lots that were far, far grander, but it was the entire walls of memorial stones that were the most touching.

From there I got the metro to Toesca and did a tour of the Palacio Cousiño. It was built by Luis and Isadora Cousiño, part of a wealthy Chilean dynasty that made its money in the mining and wine industries, and was the epitome of opulence, (yes, I did just copy that out of the guide book). Well worth a visit, if nothing more than for the huge fleecey slippers you had to wear over your shoes to protect the parquet flooring. Think it was good for my Spanish too, as everyone else was Chilean, and although the guide spoke English to me, it wasn´t very easy to follow, so think I learnt as much from the Spanish.

I then got the metro back up to Cal y Canto, where I was planning to sample some seafood at the Mercado Central, but when I got there it absolutely stank of fish (funnily enough!) which, in the heat, I don´t think I could have stomached. So walked back down Paseo Ahumada, a pedestrianised area that is probably the equivalent of Oxford Street, and found El Naturista a large cafe/restaurant serving vegetarian food and organic juices - much more my cup of tea!

So, tonight I leave Santiago... It´s been a very gentle introduction to South America, thankfully. And have been very sensible and well-behaved so far...

Santiago 1

Aaaargh! Well, here I am! I can´t believe I´m finally here after all the months of planning (or lack thereof)... I was extremely lucky my flight wasn´t cancelled on Monday, as loads were, due to the crazy amount of snow we had during the night. I´ve never seen anything quite like it in London - there were 8 inches on my balcony, which makes it even stranger to be in summer clothes and sun-cream now.

I was lucky to be sat next to Alex, a guy from London, on the Heathrow to Sao Paulo leg of the flight, and we teamed up with Geert, a Belgian guy, after the flight to Santiago, so I had some ready made friends to go out with, which made my first night here much nicer than it might have been. We went out with some friends of Alex´s from home, and I had my first taste of pisco sours, which are yummy! Unfortunately they made me so thirsty in the night that I also had to have my first taste of Santiago tap water, which is even worse than in London, but luckily hasn´t made me ill.

Today myself and Geert managed to get a bus to Valparaiso for the day. Saw a small kid riding a large horse onto a petrol station forecourt to fill up a container with petrol - made me smile, as it´s things like that you just don´t see at home. Valparaiso was good for a day, spent exploring the Cerros, or hills, which were very ramshackle but photogenic, with lots of peeling paint and graffiti, but all lovely bright colours. I could imagine it being used as a film set, for something like a Bond film, or the Bourne Identity, with wild car chases through the maze of streets. It was incredibly steep, with a network of ancient funicular railways taking the effort out of the worst bits.

Today´s attempts to buy bus tickets were marginally better than yesterday´s jet-lagged efforts, but even so, the Spanish still has a long way to go. I´ve booked a night bus to Temuco for Friday, and have also managed to book my bus onwards to Zapala, in Argentina, for 8am on Sunday. So that gives me a couple of days to explore Santiago before heading south. I haven´t got particularly high hopes for Zapala, the name of which apparently comes from the Mapuche words for dead swamp, so I´m not expecting it to be a hive of activity or culture!

Hostel Don Santiago (Avenida Ricardo Cummings, 95, Santiago) has turned out to be lovely. It´s only small, but the staff are great - very helpful and welcoming, and much more what I was hoping for than the huge Casa Roja that we went to meet Alex at last night. Ok, so I was very jealous of his swimming pool, but still glad I picked this one instead. I have to change hostels tomorrow though, as they´re now fully booked, so am going to one called Che Legarto, just a few blocks away, so fingers crossed that one is ok too.