Looking back, looking forward

Hello again,

Well, this is it! Our final day before returning to Australia. A part of us thought this trip would never end, but here we are. It’s been 3.5 years since we moved to London and it’s fair to say we’ve got mixed feelings about the return to Sydney. There are lots of things we’re looking forward to – seeing family and friends, the beaches, the food (fresh fruit, seafood, BBQs), and ultimately, not being on the road for a while.

Here’s a few stats on the last seven months to give you some perspective of how we’ve spent our time:

• Total travel days: 222
• Countries visited since leaving London: 11
• Different beds: 67, plus six nights camping
• Flights: 19 (with each connection counted separately)
• Bus rides: 33 (excluding day tours and local transport), roughly 200 hours
• Longest bus ride: 19 hours, including a game of bingo before bed
• Ferries: 12 (excluding day trips), including one four day journey
• Books finished: Tim 3, Lesley 44 (one book every five days, quite obscene)
• Blog posts: 40. Mostly by Tim whilst Lesley was reading
• Times we didn’t get all of our clothes back from the laundromat: Lesley 2, Tim 0

Phew! It’s all been worth it though, without a shadow of a doubt – the experience is it’s own reward. These days we think of travel as an essential part of a person’s education…it’s changed us both, for the better we hope. Whilst it’s so hard to rank or compare everything that has happened during this big trip, these are some of the things we’ll never forget (and a few photos to jog the memory)…

• Hot air ballooning in Cappadocia. A contender for Lesley’s favourite moment of the trip, and it happened in the first couple of weeks!

• An almost private Turkish Gulet cruise…

• A week in Crete; great value, great scenery, great history. The best tzatziki
• Getting engaged in Santorini…’nuff said

• A day on the water in Sardinia with great company, amazing beaches and plentiful wine

• Swimming with sea lions in the Galapagos
• Staying at Charlie’s in the Cordillera Blanca, for both the landscape and the serendipitous encounter with an inspiring (if eccentric) individual

• Witnessing Machu Picchu emerge from the early morning clouds; even with high expectations, this superstar attraction blew us away

• Seeing a Jaguar in Manu National Park, and more generally surviving that adventure

• Enjoying hot springs by starlight on our Salar de Uyuni tour with good company and a few bottles of wine
• A week in San Pedro de Atacama; great landscapes and Chilean civility = win, especially after Bolivia
• Drinking a little too much and loving it in the Colchagua Valley
• Watching the sun rise at Las Torres after hiking up in the dark, probably Tim’s overall number one moment of the trip for lots of reasons. Patagonia in general was an incredible highlight, made all the more special by the people we met and continued to bump into

• Getting to know the enigmatic Moai of Easter Island, and watching the sun rise over Ahu Tongariki

Of course, as we mentioned, the feelings are mixed, and we can see there are challenges on the horizon. A regular part of the last 3.5 years has been the insane level of newness that we’ve lived with. We’ll have to work harder to maintain some of that; we’re planning to be regular tourists in Australia (all suggestions welcome on favourite destinations and activities), and our travel wish list has only grown. Far off destinations like Europe, which we love, will be sorely missed; creating a lifestyle that enables us to visit them regularly is something we’ll be working on. And that’s a hint of perhaps the biggest challenge of all… creating a work-life balance we can both live with, which in reality would be hard anywhere. Travel helps with this too – part of the great thing about being on the road is all the awesome and inspiring people we’ve met. Just yesterday we were on a tour with a German couple who employed a management team to run a business they’d founded and built, enabling them to spend months of the year travelling and working remotely. We love that. We’ve learnt that seven months of travel is a long stint; about three months is perfect, any more and you start wishing for a week off! The ideal lifestyle for us is a stable base in Sydney, a challenging and rewarding work life, with the flexibility to travel or work remotely every 2-3 months. Figuring out what you want is half the battle right?

Figuring out what you don’t want is important too, and Tim has decided banking isn’t for him. Ever since leaving KPMG he’s been completely disillusioned with it. We’re both high achievers, and perhaps we try to please others to a fault. One of the nice things about where we are now is that we don’t feel like we have anything to prove to anybody. It’s time to make a change for the better…life is too short to hate what you do. Plus, he is keeping the beard.

Of course we’ve learnt about each other too. Being together day and night for such a long period of time will tend to do that; with our best and worst qualities both being exaggerated (no need to record these here). There have been surprisingly few big arguments on the trip, though plenty of times when we’ve both felt tired and snappy. Seems like a good sign. Time apart will be extremely weird at first, but very healthy.

So what comes next for us? Lesley doesn’t start work until February, so we have about six weeks of the Australian summer to enjoy. We’re already contemplating taking a week or so to do the Greater Ocean Road in a “Wicked Camper”, but we’ll see how we feel. Tim has a meeting with a recruiter lined up on the 22nd, but the job search will probably take months, especially given how quiet things will be in January. Meanwhile he wants to investigate establishing a photography business (strictly a hobby), even if it’s just a way to purchase camera equipment with tax advantages. We’ll be sussing out wedding venues, though Athol Hall sounds like it’ll be a winner, and scheduling that for late 2016. Beyond that we’re not really sure. Living overseas again has come in and out of vogue with us, but we currently feel it isn’t necessary to achieve the balanced life we want. What we do know is that we want to continue enjoying the little things and prioritising experiences over material goods; some of our best moments on this trip have been sunsets or sunrises in the great outdoors, and they’re both free.

If you suddenly have the urge to travel and want to know how we did 7 months on the road, carry on only, we’re breaking from tradition and providing some “useful” information below. This blog was always more about giving a record of our experiences, but we figure we’ve gotten pretty good at this, so why not strike while the iron is hot. Optional reading of course.

So, thanks for reading and following along with us! The 90 entries to date will become a book (another lengthy project for Tim) and eventually adorn a coffee table somewhere. We’re not sure yet whether this will be the last post, as we’ve got a lot more in us. Either way, this has been a crazy ride that we’d do all over again… we’re excited for the next chapter.

Cheers, and see you soon.
TL

Appendix: On being a value-loving pro-travelling carry-on only couple

Over time we’ve found a number of sites that were very useful. For accommodation booking, our favourites are:

• Airbnb: we generally went for self-contained apartments. Especially when travelling for a long time it made a big difference to be able to cook our meals and have private living space.
• Booking.com: hotel / B&B accommodation with the added benefit that you often don’t have to pay anything until you arrive.
• TripAdvisor: great for peer reviews on activities and restaurants. Key learning from reading thousands of reviews – no matter what it is, someone will say it was the best experience of their life, someone else will say it was terrible, someone will say too expensive and someone will say very good value. The average scores are helpful.
• HostelWorld: for private rooms, ideally with private bathrooms, in hostels or B&Bs. Good and cheap, with deferred payment.

Getting around: We downloaded an app called Pocket Earth Pro for a few dollars from the App Store and it has more than paid for itself! You can download maps for most places and then mark your accommodation, restaurants / bars, activities and routes between places. Best part – it can then be used offline using your GPS and the data stored in the app, so no expensive use of google maps on the go. Speaking of, we never moved to our prepaid international SIM cards (though we carried them for the whole seven months); Wifi and data based communications generally sufficed.

Keeping fit: Despite the hundreds of kilometres of walking we’ve done, either sightseeing or trekking, we wanted a different way to keep fit and maintain strength. We brought a skipping rope but never used it. Lesley got a tip from a work colleague on an app called the Seven Minute Workout Challenge. At first we couldn’t even get through one set, then we worked our way up to a peak of three. We’ve now settled back around two but it’s a great workout that you can do almost anywhere in a short time.

Packing

We decided to go with carry on luggage only for most of the trip. When Lesley first heard this suggestion her response was essentially “you’re a crazy person”, but she was slowly won over. The Travel Independent packing list was extremely useful (http://www.travelindependent.info/whattopack.htm). It took a LOT of planning and preparation, and some new purchases, but it really paid off and ultimately, you realise how little you need. Here’s what we took.

Lesley’s bag:

• Kelty Redwing 40 litre. When fully packed it definitely pushes the boundaries of allowable cabin luggage, but we never had any problems with it. Lesley calls it the Mary Poppins bag as there always seems to be space. The main downside? There’s no secure way to lock it. Overall: comfortable, a good fit and it’s stood the test of time well. She’ll be getting plenty more use out of it in years to come.
• Supplementary small day pack sourced from Jack Wolf in the UK which folds up to almost nothing. The lining is on its last legs, but it has withstood seven months of punishment well and it wasn’t expensive.
• For both of us, clothes were packed into vacuum seal bags, which helped to partition and save space. Wear and tear was an issue, more spares would’ve been good.

Tim’s Bag:

• Tim was insane in that he wanted to do carry on and also take professional camera equipment. Without the camera gear, a 30L pack would have done with space to spare! After weeks of research he found F-Stop bags, ultimately choosing a Loka Ultralight 40L, plus camera insert. All he can say is that it worked, and the extremely light bag withstood the punishment, but he really missed the convenience of his LowePro Flipside bag…that thing is a gem.
• This was supplemented with a small crappy backpack that the camera insert went into. Advantage – it didn’t look like a camera bag. Disadvantage – the camera wasn’t easy to access.

Shoes:

We spent an undue amount of time considering and finding the ideal footwear for this trip. In the end, we decided full hiking boots were too bulky and we only regretted that once when walking long days in Torres Del Paine. In the end Lesley chose…

• Mendl Gore-Tex trail runners – not a full hiking boot but a good walking shoe with a very stable base.
• A pair of fold up ballet flats (“Butterfly Twists”) – going out shoes. These have a foam base and they are so comfortable – as long as you’re not walking over a rocky, uneven surface.

…and Tim chose a similar low cut hiking shoe, though it was non-waterproof for added breathability. In the end, that was fine. We also both took a pair of Havianas, to prove we were Australian.

Clothing: our itinerary took us from the minuses to over 30 degrees celcius, so versatility was key (read, layering). Lesley took…

• 1 x fleece
• 1 x woollen cardigan
• 2 x t-shirts
• 2 x singlets
• 3 x Uniqlo long sleeve shirts – light yet suitable for cold weather
• 1 x long dress, the classic blue and white stripe
• 1 x ‘nice’ long skirt for going out
• 1 x everyday shorts
• 1 x leggings
• 1 x jeans. Despite being heavy, we just would have missed them too much.
• 1 x hiking pants
• 3 x exercise shirts, quick dry
• 2 x bra, sports and regular
• Various pairs of underwear. Advice, take as many as you can fit
• 5 x pairs of socks. Mix of hiking, ankle socks and a long / warm pair
• 1 x waterproof jacket wth hood – North Face
• 1 x set of thermals
• 1 x beanie and 1 x gloves – bought in South America, a good move
• 2 x scarves, one light which doubled as a sarong
• 1 x bikini

…and as for Tim…

• 1 x fleece
• 5 x shirts, including one long sleeve
• 1 x singlet – mainly for chilling out in
• 1 x button down going out shirt – got sent home to Australia after Europe, where it was more useful, and haven’t missed it since
• 1 x everyday shorts. These got a hole in them in Corsica and got sent home halfway through, better off without
• 1 x gym shorts
• 1 x jeans
• 1 x convertible hiking pants (North Face). Good quality and a staple in South America
• 3 x underwear – Uniqlo lightweight
• 5 x pairs of socks, mix as per Lesley
• 1 x waterproof jacket wth hood – North Face
• 1 x thermal trousers
• 1 x Beanie and 1 x gloves
• 1 x boardies

Electricals:

• MacBookPro plus charger: invaluable travel companion for entertainment, photo editing, blog writing, etc.
• External hard drive for backup and portable entertainment
• Kindles… self explanatory
• iPhone: navigation, maps, exercise, entertainment
• Earphones
• GPS: perfect for multiple car rentals in Europe. Posted home when no longer needed
• Camera gear: 5D Mark III, one 24-105mm f/4 lens, Gitzo Carbon Fiber Traveller Tripod, Really Right Stuff Ball head plus pano equipment, Lee Big Stopper, Lee Graduated Filter set, Remote Shutter Release Kit, Polarising Filter, Spare Battery, chargers
• Compact Olympus TG-4 waterproof camera for underwater shots and when uncomfortable using big camera. Shoots RAW, unlike a GoPro.
• Adapter and a bunch of cables
• Black Diamond head torch… really good quality and very useful
• Small Maglite torch… died on the trip. Not so useful.

Common:

• Silk sleeping sheets, perfect for when renting sleeping bags or when the sheets somewhere look nasty
• Microfibre towels, fold up to almost nothing
• Eye masks…essential again
• Blow up pillow for plane / overnight bus rides
• Ear plugs. Lindsey from the States taught us to roll them between our fingers before inserting in the ear. Good tip
• Very basic first aid kit
• Waiters friend… annoyingly hard to find in SA. Maybe there is a check in friendly version online? If not someone should invent one and make millions.
• LowePro waterproof bag covers, for when you can’t avoid getting wet

Things we took and didn’t use / left behind along the way:

• Skipping rope: we just didn’t feel the need to use it
• Umbrellas: turns out if it’s small enough to fit nicely in your bag, it’s probably flimsy and too small in a storm
• Booties for using on rocky beaches: Lesley used these a couple of times in Europe, Tim not at all

When it’s all laid out in a list like that, it does sound like a lot! The true testament is that very little will be discarded after this trip – it has almost all stood the test of time well and will continue to be worn / used by us in the future. After 7 months of solid use that is strong praise indeed!

The only downsides we can both think of for doing carry-on only are:

• Not being able to purchase as many gifts and souvenirs as we may have liked – we had to think about (expensive) postage or the ability to carry it for months on end
• Losing waiters friends along the way because we couldn’t check them in
• Having to manage your liquids to 100ml per item for some flights. This was far more of an issue in Europe than South America where they mostly didn’t seem to care, though we never knew that in advance
• Being challenged on an inconsistent basis when someone at security suddenly decided something we were carrying was a weapon, e.g. a tripod or hiking poles
• Not having a pair of shoes to work out in

Overall, we are both very glad we made this choice and there’s been more than a few times we’ve felt smug as we’ve watched other people stagger under the weight of their gigantic backpacks. If you’re tempted, give it a go!

Tahiti & Moorea (French Polynesia)

Hello again,

We were lucky to get a late checkout on our last day in Easter Island. We got the blog post out just before 19:00, left most of our luggage and went to dinner. It was our first restaurant meal on the island (we’d been subsisting mostly on a couscous salad and chicken, and empanadas for lunch); we had the place to ourselves and the nice Cuban owner got chatting as he brought us our pisco sours – the best we’d tasted yet, and probably also the most potent. Afterward we had time for one last sunset at Ahu Tahai before we left for the airport at 22:00 (already around our normal bedtime).

There was a lively atmosphere at Easter Island international airport. The passengers were a strange mix of locals (who knew each other and the airline crew) and white, generally middle aged tourists, who looked a little startled at their motley company. Some of the former carried weird animal objects like crowns made of feathers and a horse jaw bone (really). The guy who sat next to Lesley had what looked like a whole chicken stuffed into the front pocket of his jumper. Tim could see the black feathers and feet sticking out of one side and initially wondered if it was still alive (doubtful). When we set off at 00:40 it’d already felt like a long wait.

We both slept a bit on the flight after a random dinner meal was served, and when we pulled into Papeete five hours later it was about 1:30 local time. Our arrival wasn’t glamorous and it wasn’t like the movies, though even at that time there were three people singing and playing the guitar at the arrivals gate (welcome to paradise). We got our flower necklaces, which perked us up just long enough to make it to our hotel at 2:30. Finally, we turned in for “the night” (it was 7:30 Easter Island time).

Apart from the obvious, we’d chosen Tahiti because we really didn’t want to backtrack to Santiago and then fly direct from there to Sydney. For one thing, that would have been a massive buzz kill at the end of the trip, but we also wanted to minimise our air miles for environmental reasons. We only had four full days because we wanted to make it home for Christmas, and two of those would be transiting between Tahiti and Moorea. For the first time in a long time, it’d be a rush job.

Most everyone has been conditioned to associate the word Tahiti with images of the uber resorts in Bora Bora, which are eye wateringly expensive and yet another flight away from Papeete. That’s not what we had on the agenda. On our first day we left the relatively ugly capital, and caught the ferry to Moorea, only 45 minutes away. We booked our place through AirBnB and it was about one tenth of the price of a room at the Hilton or Four Seasons, plus we had our own kitchen. Our host picked us up from the ferry terminal and drove us to the supermarket so we could get spaghetti bolognese ingredients (dinner for three nights) and other essentials. The bungalow was right near the airport, which had hardly any traffic, and only a ten minute walk to the main public beach on the island; all in all, it was good value. The downsides were the numerous and hungry mosquitoes, and the wild roosters that roamed the yard and woke us up anywhere from 4:00 onwards with their crowing…jerks. Also, the humidity was over 75% during our stay, so frequent clothes washing was very necessary.

Luxury dream holiday in French Polynesia this was not, but what we lacked in comforts we made up for in activities. After all, we weren’t really in it for R&R. On our first full day in Moorea we had a group cruise booked, but when we turned up it was just us and the owners, a French couple who had recently relocated to the island. The weather was pretty decent; extremely lucky, because technically we were entering the off “rainy” season and the previous week had been stormy. In terms of corals and fish quantity the snorkelling was pretty average really, nothing that could hold a candle to the Great Barrier Reef, which surprised us a little. The swimming highlight was stopping at a particular spot where stingrays and black tip reef sharks congregate in numbers (they get fed there). It resulted in some interesting encounters. Who knew stingrays felt so slimy…check out Lesley’s neck muscles, tense much?

The scenery was spectacular and the other highlights of the day all took advantage of it. There was a mermaid tail on board and whilst it’d never occurred to her before, Lesley couldn’t resist posing in it…

…and our lunchspot was a real gem. We got a little bit of rain whilst sitting there, and with food on the table four dogs and a cat kept us company (plus the fish nibbling at our toes). The cat seemed to be the boss; at one point it launched itself from the shore onto our chair next to Lesley with a mid-air “meeoooowwww!”, and all the dogs cowered. Anyway… turns out there are hungry mutts in paradise too.

After lunch they all cleared off and the sun came out again.

The second tour we did was a 4×4 “safari” of the island with a guy called Francky Franck, a genuine character. As a Frenchman, he elected to complete his then compulsory military service in Moorea, and in later life decided to relocate here on a permanent basis. He kept the group entertained with his eccentricities, including a lewd sense of humour. We learnt about the production of vanilla beans (apparently the ones on the island are highly sought after for luxury perfumes), and sampled some local liqueurs and jams. It was also a good way to appreciate the verticality of Moorea, one of the so called “high islands”, though it wasn’t great light for photos. You can clearly see the two big bays of the island in the photo below, taken from the Belvedere lookout; the one on the left is where James Cook moored when he first arrived.

With our last tour complete, our brief spell in Tahiti is drawing to a close. We’ll spend the final night back in the capital before catching an early flight next day to Sydney via Auckland. We’ll post some reflections on the trip in the next (and probably final) post.

TL

Easter Island

Hello again,

After frigging about with rescheduling a taxi the night before, we were up at 2:30 and leaving our apartment in Buenos Aires shortly after 3:00. Our driver was a rotund fellow whose every breath seemed a wheezy, phlegmy battle. First impressions weren’t helped by a generous amount of butt crack on display above his shorts. The car must have stalled ten times on the way to the airport and we both wondered if man or machine would give out first.

The sun rose over the tarmac as we waited for our first flight to board. Once in the air, the highlight was passing over the snow capped Andes just before the descent into Santiago; they’d been a travel companion of sorts to us, and it was a fitting farewell to the South American continent.

Easter Island felt very far away that morning. It’s the peak of an underwater mountain range that was formed through volcanic activity and it’s over 2000km to the nearest inhabited island. The first settlers came from French Polynesia (over 3000km away) potentially sometime between 600-900AD. James Cook arrived in the 18th century after 100 days of sailing. So, in reality our thirteen hour journey to this isolated speck of land was a total 21st century cheat.

If you’ve ever stared out the window on long flights over the ocean, Easter Island feels like the answer to “I wonder what it’s like down there”. Winds buffet the island, and at least during our time there, the weather was all over the place. Apparently when the island was discovered it was covered with palm trees and edible plants, with lots of sea birds and good fishing in the surrounds. Now the landscape is a fairly desolate one: grassy hills, black rocks and of course, the enigmatic moai statues. The change is put down to a combination of land clearing for agriculture, the use of tree trunks to transport moai, and a breed of introduced rat that ate palm tree seeds. The presence of the ruins hints at the one time wealth of the indigineous people (the Rapa Nui) that lived here, and combined with their isolation and relatively sudden decline, there is a strong sense of mystery to the place. At the quarry called Rano Raraku, where hundreds of moai were built, it looks as though one day the workers simply put down their tools and left.

The outside world (in this case the Dutch) discovered Easter Island on Easter Sunday 1722; hence the name. In 1770 a Spanish expedition arrived; they made the locals sign a contract to claim the island for Spain, then sailed away. The Rapa Nui wouldn’t have had a clue what the piece of paper was, and Spain never claimed the island anyway. Captain Cook arrived in 1774; in four years conditions had worsened and a number of moai had been toppled. Sick at the time, he wrote in his journal:

“No Nation will ever contend for the honour of the discovery of Easter Island as there is hardly an Island in this sea which affords less refreshments and conveniences for Shipping than it does. Nature has hardly provided it with anything fit for men to eat or drink…”

Of course for the modern traveller (read lazy, or lucky) remoteness is part of the charm, and the windswept landscape has a character of its own. After Cook left the Rapa Nui civilisation went into decline. All the Moai were toppled from their platforms at some point (40 or so were later restored by archaeologists). Why? The Moai were the monuments to notable ancestors; the statues faced inland to watch over and protect the tribes. It could be that they were destroyed through tribal warfare, or maybe the Rapa Nui lost faith in them after life became increasingly hard on the island. The local population was further decimated by Peruvian slave raids; some 1500 Rapa Nui are thought to have been taken by force, and only 15 made it back…unfortunately they brought smallpox with them.

These days the island has a population of around 6000. All things considered, the fact that any of the Rapa Nui people survived is an incredible success story of resilience and survival in extreme isolation.

When we got to Santiago we needed to pay the entry fee for arriving by air to Chile before getting our domestic connection. Chalk that up to a planning mistake – we had previously avoided the fee twice by arriving via bus. It made us wonder why Easter Island is even part of Chile. Apparently in 1883 England encouraged Chile to claim ownership because… they didn’t want France to get it. Why the Chilean reciprocity fee only applies to Australians and Mexicans, and why we pay four times more, we can’t explain.

The LAN planes flying from Santiago to Easter Island are 787 Dreamliners; pretty snappy and fairly huge. Some of the passengers were clearly locals; there were more than a few eskies coming out in the luggage, easy to understand given the markup on fresh produce in these parts. Our hotel contacts greeted us at the airport and gave us flower necklaces, just like in the movies… except it was cloudy and there’s only one decent beach on the island, so it didn’t really have that tropical paradise vibe. We took a Lonely Planet recommendation on our lodgings and it really paid off… a self sufficient apartment with sea views and a terrace, a great place to relax and enjoy the space after the hustle and bustle of BA. It also came with a cat, which we adopted for the week (or rather, it adopted us for food and the occasional pat).

Unfortunately when unpacking we realised that the olive oil we’d brought had opened during the flight…we’d packed it to save money, talk about false economies! The worst part was two beanies we’d been carrying since Ecuador as gifts ended up soaked (even though we did bag the oil). Tim cursed himself as we did our best to clean everything up.

The first order of business after that was getting some cash out. We had a minor scare when our cards wouldn’t work at what we thought was the only VISA compatible ATM on the island. Nothing really drives the isolation home like not being able to pay for anything…those were a sad few minutes sitting by the roadside as we considered our next move. Fortunately, our information was out of date, and we stumbled on a Banco Estado ATM that saved the day. As for cooking, we found the supermarkets had enough ingredients and the prices were far better than the Galapagos (geographically closer than Santiago). Empanadas were a great cheap lunch option…and we stuck to that basically every day. We’d also brought six bottles of wine from BA which was an extremely good move. We just wish we’d left the oil in Argentina.

Despite being a relatively small island we’d decided to rent a car, at least for a few days. It was a good move; it meant we could avoid crowds, and drive to Tongariki for sunrise with ease. Tim had also planned to do some night photography, but it was overcast when we had the car. That suited Lesley, seeing as how she was the only one with a license (Tims’ recently expired). It was only the second time she’d driven in over three years. Everything went smoothly: the biggest difficulties were potholes and stray cows / horses on the road. The freedom of our own vehicle and the independence felt great. Here’s what we saw:

Ahu Tongariki: This is the largest ceremonial structure anywhere in Polynesia, measuring 220 metres from end to end with 15 large restored moai. We visited three times at different parts of the day, each time spending ages just taking in the atmosphere. Interestingly the largest earthquake ever recorded (a 9.5 in 1960) happened right on the coast of Chile, and the resulting tsunami waves (which were recorded at 11 metres high as far away as 10000kms from the epicentre) caused significant further damage to the moai, though at that stage they were already toppled. There were tsunami evacuation signs around town, but we preferred not to think about it in our beachside apartment. Here is a shot at sunrise, and later with the moai shadows stretching toward Rano Raraku…

Rano Raraku: All the Moai on the island were carved at this quarry, and many are still frozen in time at this spot. Each one took up to two years to complete, making them each a significant investment of time and effort. They were carved lying on their backs; face, torso and arms first, before being chipped away from the bedrock beneath and lowered down earth ramps into pre-prepared pits. The largest ever found is here, a whopping 21 metres in length, still staring up at the sky. The heads popping out of the ground are actually whole statues partially buried. There were various moai laying on the ground as well – if they fell anytime during the carving or transportation process they were abandoned… imagine telling your boss you’d dropped a moai after two years of carving work. We also did the walk up to the crater, and on the way back passed a local in a traditional costume… i.e. a g-string. We said “hola” and pretended everything seemed normal.

Anakena Beach: Thought to be the landing spot of the first Polynesian settlers. Today it is the main swimming beach for the entire island. The palm trees were brought from Tahiti in the 1960s. We would have gone more often if it hadn’t been on the opposite side of the island.

Ahu Tahai: This is a supremely popular spot near town for sunset… we could see the camera flashes from our balcony. We made the walk a couple of times, including with a bottle of red wine on our last night. Dogs always seemed to adopt us as we explored the site, often following us for a few hundred metres after we left before losing interest. Maybe they could smell the cat on us.

Terevaka: This is the highest point on the island, where you can actually see the curvature of the Earth. It was cloudy and incredibly windy when we walked up. The hillside is very exposed… mostly just grass, not unlike a paddock you might see in rural NSW. Interesting side note, Chile leased the entire island to the “Easter Island Exploitation Company” (real name), and from 1903 to 1953 it went about turning the entire place into a giant sheep farm and corralled the locals into Hanga Roa (the town); it was easy to imagine up there.

Orongo: From the 16th century the ancient system of worshipping ancestors and kings through the moai was being replaced by a new tangata-manu or “birdman” cult, and Orongo was the ceremonial centre. The site is spectacularly located between a volcanic crater and cliffs plunging down to the sea. It was interesting to learn about the annual birdman competition, a physical test that would ultimately legitimise a claim to power, either for the participant or the chief he represented. The last competition was held around 1867. The birdman cult is something we previously had no idea about; another layer to the fascinating history of Easter Island. This is a shot of the dwellings… to get in would have required crawling through the tiny doors.

We visited other Moai spots around the island, of which there are many. Each site had its’ own charm. Te Pito Kura once had the largest moai ever actually erected – it was ten metres tall, and its topknot alone is thought to have weighed 10 tonnes. We also made it to the Museum later in the week. The swell was up and we noticed locals riding some big waves offshore near town, so it was an added bonus to find an exhibit of hand painted surfboards in the Museum. Surfing is apparently a big part of the local culture.

Overall, we really loved our time in Easter Island. Fascinating history and incredible isolation, plus seeing and hearing the ocean from bed was a treat. You can probably tell by the tone of the post that our travel mojos have been somewhat restored. That is just as well, because tonight’s flight to Tahiti has been rescheduled twice, so we have a departure of 12:40 in the morning, followed by a six hour flight, and because of the time difference it’ll be roughly 2:00am when we’re settled into our hotel (hopefully). Bleh. There is only one such flight a week, so we’ll just have to live with it. Wish us luck.

TL

Buenos Aires

Hello,

We both had hopes of falling in love with Buenos Aires, the “Paris” of South America, so we’d given ourselves ten nights to do so; it would be a whirlwind romance…or not. In retrospect we could have done with a little less time. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best two things about the city are:

1. Well priced great wine
2. Well priced steak

We love both, but they don’t really fill the days. We spent hours wandering malls, markets (including San Telmo) and “trendy” neighbourhoods in search of cool things to buy, only to be frustrated at an oversupply of Warringah Mall-style clothing shopping (yawn) and a lack of good local stuff. Getting everyone mate mugs seemed a daft idea; we haven’t tried it ourselves in a country obsessed with the stuff (people literally carry thermoses around to top up their special cups filled with yerba mate, a highly caffeinated tea alternative, which is then drunk through a straw). Gaucho knives? What was the point. We’ve been looking for presents that are meaningful or useful, not just something to gather dust.

Anyway, surely a city this large has plenty going on and plenty to see? Our base was in Palermo, which has a Soho’esque feel to it, with eateries and shops along tree lined streets in a suburban setting. It was a pleasant place to stay, though it felt a little claustrophobic to Tim after the wide open spaces of Patagonia. As usual, day one we did a free walking tour of BA and saw some of the top sights, including a pink government building (La Casa Rosada), the obelisk, and an assortment of other European looking buildings. This is no Paris; it lacks the grand vision or scale of that city, and whilst there are some decent buildings we were left a little underwhelmed by the highlights.

The locals have been a bit of a mixed bag. Attitudes towards women are a bit backwards; some men leer and jeer at women whilst driving. We were both shocked walking down the street when one guy, standing on the sidewalk, started addressing Lesley with “hello, oh my god Lady wow…” etc etc. He completely ignored Tim during this outburst, until Tim swore at him and we moved on.

We did enjoy visiting this theatre-turned-bookshop, where we had a coffee on the old stage, if only for the novelty value.

And we visited the Recoleta cemetery, which has been written about as one of the most beautiful cemeteries in the world; we’re not cemetery connoisseurs but it was enough to entertain us for an hour or so. A lot of the tombs are quite impressive, if not pointlessly ostentatious.

Here is a pic of highlights 1 and 2 mentioned up first: a massive bife de chorizo / bife di lomo and malbec we had in a parilla just down the road from our apartment; the wine was cheaper in this restaurant than in the local shops, go figure! Other than steaks and burgers, our food choices have been a bit hit and miss here in BA, despite Lesley’s online research. We went to what is supposed to be one of the city’s best pizzerias, and Lesley ended up with a callous on her finger from sawing through the pizza crust – first world problems hey?

Lesley also did an Argentinian cooking course, learning how to make empanadas (a staple dish over here), a spicy sauce to accompany them, dulce de leche (a milk-based caramel, also widely used) and flan. She has resolved to use the recipes again in Australia; you can look forward to trying some slightly misshapen but delicious empanadas.

We’re now officially on the countdown to getting home, where we land in two weeks. BA has been our final stop on the South American continent; tomorrow we leave for Easter Island and we feel ready to go. Our flight is at 5:55am at an airport south of the city… seemed like a good idea when we booked it (it was cheap). We’re both looking forward to Easter Island, though we’re expecting food and accommodation to be quite basic. We’ll keep you posted.

TL

Iguazu Falls

Hello,

Unfortunately once again in northern Argentina we received sad news from home; Lesley’s grandfather Allan passed away. Whilst his health had been poor for some time and it wasn’t unexpected (especially given he was in his mid-90s), it’s a loss and we’re sorry to be missing the funeral.

We flew from El Calafate to Iguazu Falls via Buenos Aires. There was no facility in the capital for connecting flights, so we had to walk out of arrivals and straight back into departures. The security heroes sent us away to check in the hiking poles we’d carried on the first leg, and 30 minutes later when we returned they decided Tim’s tripod could be unfolded into a weapon. Sensing Tim might actually use it on them if they blocked us again, they sensibly let us through with a warning not to carry it on next time.

Puerto Iguazu town is right near the border with Brazil. It has the frontier feel of El Chalten, but with a jungle setting and oppressive humidity. We met a guy in Bolivia who’d been mugged here. There is a slightly seedy element to a steamy outpost such as this, an impression that was reinforced when we were politely offered cocaine on the street. But who cares? Ultimately, like every other tourist we’d come to see Iguazu falls.

There are vantage points from both Argentina and Brazil, but we decided to skip the Brazilian side because getting a visa was too much of a pain in the ass. The weather was cloudy during our entire stay and constantly threatening; it meant that a moonlight tour in the park was cancelled every night we were there. Rather a shame given we had specifically timed our visit to do said tour (it is only available around the full moon).

In the end we visited the Argentinian side two days running. Despite the rather inconvenient location of this natural wonder, it really is worth the effort. We were blown away by the scale of the falls, and the National Park has done a fantastic job of building walkways to maximise the experience.

We started at the “Devil’s Throat”, a u-shaped chasm with a c.80m drop. Everything is on an epic scale, including the sound and the spray shooting into the sky. Small birds were flying between the cliffs, presumably showing off for photos.

The rest of our time was spent exploring the “inferior” and “superior” paths (lower and upper paths); we walked the latter twice. The waterfalls weren’t the only attractions; some of the wildlife included monkeys, butterflies and colourful birds (see pic).

Butterflies landed to drink the sweat off our arms (and out of our backpacks). There were also coatees, bold possum like creatures that can give a nasty bite and steal your lunch. Lesley spent some time on the superior trail either worrying about or being “chased” by them (Tim thinks the danger was a little overblown and was anyway focusing on photos). According to Lesley’s testimony, one appeared out of nowhere the second she took out a sandwich, and stalked her through a crowd of people, even crawling under the mesh walkway to pop up at the other end right behind her to try and get her food. Here is a rather large example making trouble in one of the many picnic areas; we sense their natural habitat.

This is the highlight of the inferior trail. It was pretty packed when we arrived and even more so when we left; Tim had all of five seconds to get a few shots of Lesley on her own before hordes of ravenous tourists burst into frame for their selfies. Even at this vantage point Tim (and the camera) were getting fairly wet…

…and Lesley emerged fairly soaked for her troubles. Not really a terrible thing given the humidity.

You can see the same spot in the photo below, which is looking down from one of the lookouts on the superior trail.

The superior trail lived up to its name and provided some epic views. Without overdoing it, here are some of the better pictures.

You can particularly see the full sweep of the falls in the shot below.

Tim really liked the way the water rushed around the vegetation here. When we returned the second day there was a noticeable decrease in the water level and you could see the rocks the plants were growing on.

Here is Lesley in a prime selfie spot. We had to wait quite a while to get this to ourselves.

And a close up of the view behind her. You can see some people at the top right on another platform for a sense of scale.

To wrap up; Iguazu Falls isn’t conveniently located for most itineraries, but we’re glad we included it on ours. Even in poor weather it was a sight to behold. Our next stop is, almost unbelievably for us, the final one before we start our (admittedly long) journey home across the Pacific. We’ll cover Buenos Aires in the next post.

TL

El Chalten and hiking in Los Glacieres National Park

Hello again,

El Chalten didn’t exist prior to 1985; it was founded to help secure the disputed border with Chile. The town is located at the base of Cerro Torre and Cerro Fitz Roy mountains within Los Glacieres National Park. These days it’s known as Argentina’s Trekking Capital and tourism is its’ raison d’être, but despite this El Chalten retains a frontier, end of the road quality. Internet was nearly impossible to come by and we had to pay for everything in cash. In winter the town is all but deserted; presumably the friendly street dogs resume control during those months. Needless to say, remoteness added to its appeal. On a clear day you can see the aforementioned mountains from the bus station (see pic)…

…but when we arrived the weather was throwing a tantrum and the peaks were completely hidden. Thinking it was only a short walk to our accommodation and feeling slightly cheap, we refused a taxi and set off with horizontal rain in our faces. After 300 metres the rain turned to hail and the wind kicked it up a notch…we could feel the Patagonian ice sheet bidding us welcome in our bones. Swearing to keep our spirits up (well mostly Tim) we made it to our lodgings, a self contained cabana; home for the next eight nights. It was comfortable and importantly, warm.

Luckily there was a supermarket right next door so we head over to pick up stuff for dinner. We were excited to see eggplant for ratatouille, but on closer inspection each one was covered in mould (and we suspect full of it too). We soon learned that there were three small markets open in town, and between them you could just about find ingredients for dinner depending on when the latest shipment had been made. We also learnt that you had to be very careful when buying wine. We bought the most expensive bottle from that place (admittedly only 80 pesos) and poured it down the sink that evening in disgust.

When we woke up the next morning (Sunday) there was a townwide blackout, so instead of porridge and coffee to start the day, we wandered the streets hungrily until we found an open bakery. Not the ideal start. Afterwards we visited the tourist information and national park offices to get maps and a weather forecast; unfortunately the next two days were not looking good. Bad weather in El Chalten is very common, so we felt quite vindicated for having booked so much time there. The longer walks would have to wait until later in the week. By the time we set off that afternoon for some actual trekking clouds had obscured the mountains, and worse, we realised the peaks would be backlit by the sun, making photos a waste of time. That was Tim’s motivation gone and Lesley’s heart hadn’t been in it, so 200 metres down the road we turned back frustrated. We bought wine from a different supermarket that day and it was similarly awful, but this time we drank it anyway…such were the joys.

We did end up completing the walk to Mirador of the Condors Monday morning when the sun was out (see pic). It only took 45 minutes from our accommodation and provided some great views back toward the mountains and town. A condor rode the air currents and swooped above us and we got a great view of it. In the picture below you can see Lesley having a coffee, with Cerro Torre (far left) and Cerro Fitz Roy mountains in the background. The scene changed dramatically as we sat there, with dark clouds gathering and covering the sky. We packed up after about an hour and made a dash back to our cabana, where we took shelter for the rest of the day.

On Tuesday morning we woke up and rolled up the blinds to see it was snowing… not what we expected in late November. El Chalten is basically a one street town with a constant flow of people flowing to and from the trails; the human traffic was visible from our window, and we couldn’t believe it continued in that weather. Both of us were more than content to wait it out, preferring to check out a waterfall in the afternoon (pictured) and otherwise have another day written off. On the path to the “chorrillo” we passed a dead skunk; the smell drifted hundreds of metres down the road so it was actually a relief to realise it definitely wasn’t us. Randomly people had brought flags for their selfies at the falls; one Israeli risked serious injury climbing for his. Tim thought they were idiots.

We were getting a bit antsy by this stage having been so close yet so far to the major trails. Coupled with Tim’s somewhat crazy desire to get sunrise shots in the park, possibly still on a high after Las Torres, we decided to hit the trail in the dark next morning at 4:00.

When we set off it was cold but the sky was clear. The first section we completed easily and the path was extremely good; surprisingly better than in Torres Del Paine. We came to a mirador and then continued on a smaller, much scruffier but nevertheless obvious trail. Turns out this path ran parallel to the main (great) track, at points probably only 10 metres apart. We walked it for 50 minutes until it abruptly ended and we were in the middle of nowhere. Cursing in the dark at whoever made this crappy track we turned back in defeat. Thanks to Lesley’s GPS app, which we had originally assumed was just a bit off (it happens), we managed to find the main trail and still make it to a lookout for sunrise (about 6:00), salvaging the situation. It wasn’t exactly the view of Fitz Roy Tim had wanted, but it wasn’t bad (see below).

We spent an hour there before the cold winds forced us to move on. Whilst Tim was shooting away we met a photographer who had just lost his expensive camera down a waterfall; the body had split in half and because electronics are so pricey in Argentina he was going to need to fly home to the States to re-equip. Whilst we continued to beat ourselves up (mostly Tim) for losing the path earlier, things could have been worse.

From the lookout we moved gingerly as our limbs defrosted. Our goal for the day was Laguna de los Tres, probably the most popular spot in the park at the base of Fitz Roy, whose peaks were used as the logo of the Patagonia clothing brand. The walking was a breeze until the final one hour ascent; because of the recent snow and the relatively early hour, the trail was covered in ice. We saw a couple of guys coming down in crampons. It was slow and careful work…a twisted ankle (or worse) would have been easy with a lapse in concentration.

At the top it was hard to believe we were only at c.1100m above sea level. The lake was frozen over and covered in snow. We saw the Norwegians we had stayed in the house with at El Calafate up top; extremely random given there was only a handful of us up there. Here are some photos, you can see a person by the edge of the lake in the first shot (bottom right) for a sense of scale.

As we came down big groups were starting to arrive. We started to feel getting up early was worth it after all, even though the ice had melted and they’d never know how easy they had it. Just before turning off the main trail on the way back we saw two familiar faces; Kat and Ryan from the Navimag! They were camping in the park for the next two nights and after a brief chat we set a date for a pub dinner later in the week.

We ate lunch at Lake Capri with this view of Fitz Roy. Tim used a big stopper filter to take long exposures and show the movement of the clouds and water. Quite liking the spot, he was already considering coming up for another sunrise.

That is exactly what he did Friday morning, after we used inclement weather on Thursday as an excuse to take a full day off. The alarm went off at 3:50 and he was out the door shortly after 4:00, chomping on stale peanut butter and honey rolls as he walked… another great brekky. There would be no mistakes with the path this time, and in the end he blitzed the trail up to Lake Capri in a bit over an hour, thinking of pumas most of the time. After waiting 30 minutes the sun started to hit the peaks. The lake was incredibly peaceful; ducks were splashing around the island in the middle, and a small bird was feeding around the tripod on the beach, but otherwise all was quiet. The photos turned out just OK. Tim wasn’t totally happy with the spot, and this was reinforced when he met another photographer who’d found a great waterfall off the trail and shot it that morning; his photos made Tim envious. After getting his business card, Tim was left thinking about the two photographers he’d met scouring the hills in the wee hours and feeling a little inspired by that, despite not really getting the results this time.

Lesley had a great sleep in that morning and was ready for some hiking when Tim got back. We only did a few hours (just a ‘short walk’) to a Cerro Torre lookout point; we were saving the rest of the trail for the next day. We met Kat and Ryan that evening at the best place in town: La Cervezeria. It was great to catch up over house-made beers and hear about their experiences camping on the W. We would bump into them a couple more times during our time in El Chalten; after so long away seeing familiar faces was both an unusual and pleasant surprise.

On our final full day we set off to reach the lake at the base of Cerro Torre, the tallest of a spectacular looking set of granite peaks (pictured). The weather was amazing and Lesley seized the opportunity to meditate in the sunshine when we reached it.

Just before we got there we saw another familiar face – Thomas, who we completed the Santa Cruz trek with in northern Peru! He’d taken a slightly different route to us down to Patagonia, and it just so happened he’d had breakfast at the lake that morning (he and friend Rob were camping nearby). We caught up that evening for a beer, and seeing as how we were all going to El Calafate the next day, we had dinner there the following night – a great big carb fest of steak, lamb and potatoes.

It was a really nice way for us to end our time in Patagonia, which feels like a country unto itself; it’s been a highlight for us and we were sad to leave. For us, the trekking was best from El Chalten, though our favourite moments were in Torres del Paine (specifically, the towers at sunrise). What wasn’t expected was how many great people we’d meet down here, and just how many times we’d see them along the way. It really made the experience extra special.

Next up was a flight north to Iguazu Falls, an amazing landscape of rushing water; we’ll cover that in the next post.

TL

El Calafate and the Perito Moreno Glacier

Hello again,

The border crossing from Puerto Natales to El Calafate only took about five hours. We had a bag full of food (including our lunch) that we worried we might lose, but there was no customs search at all when we passed through. The scenery was classic Patagonian steppe; rolling hills almost completely bare of vegetation, with only small thorny bushes and tough bunch grasses hanging on. Winds from the Pacific are robbed of their moisture by the Andes, meaning that this area is buffeted by dry westerlies; we could feel the bus being shaken by them.

The sun was shining when we arrived in El Calafate. We were staying in a self contained two bedroom cottage that was part of a larger hostel; the other bedroom was rented out separately and we ended up meeting two nice couples from England and Norway during our stay there. We even scored leftover apple tart from the Brits.

The reason El Calafate is such a big draw is the nearby Perito Moreno glacier in Los Glacieres National Park. It is one of 47 large glaciers fed by the Patagonian ice field. Due to its size and accessibility (less than two hours away by bus), it is a huge tourist draw. In other parts of the world glaciers start at an altitude of at least 2500m, but due to the size of the ice field the glaciers here start at 1500m and slide down to just 200m above sea level.

We decided to splash out on the “Big Ice” tour offered by Hielo y Aventura which would mean gearing up with crampons and spending some time on the glacier. Given the cost, we were a little surprised to find ourselves on a bus in a group of forty people next morning. Our guide dispensed some great info along the way; it was interesting to learn about the forests that cover the mountain slopes and valleys. Whilst the species composing them depend on the altitude and climatic conditions, the three dominant species are all of the same genus (nothofagus), the southern beeches. This is further evidence of a time when Australia and South America were connected as part of a super continent. We also spotted some condors flying over the plains in search of carrion…seeing those birds will never get old.

After paying the rather exorbitant entry fee to the park (inflated for foreigners), our first stop was an hour at viewing platforms for a face to face with the Perito Moreno glacier. At this point, the ice towers some 50 to 60 metres above water level, with another 120 metres submerged below. You can hear the ice cracking, and occasionally see large chunks crash into the water below, a process known as calving (in this context the word has nothing to do with cattle).

We would have liked a little more time there but we needed to get moving for the ice hike. Hielo y Aventura seem to have a monopoly over this glacier, which we can imagine is a license to print money, and it looks like they’ve invested quite a bit in the infrastructure to make ice hikes happen, starting with their catamaran which takes you across to a hut on the other side of Lago Argentino. From there it is a 50 minute walk, partially over wooden boardwalks, to a sort of base camp where you’re given a harness and crampons. The latter go directly over your regular walking shoes. After a quick lesson using them, we split into four groups of ten and set off in different directions. There is no fixed route or features to see because the landscape shifts every day, making each tour different. Here is a shot of one of the base camps lower down that we passed; you can make out a group of people walking on the upper left side of the glacier.

Tim had seen some amazing pictures of the ice under clear blue skies, but that sort of weather isn’t normal. We had grey clouds and light rain for almost the entire time. Apparently the upside of overcast skies is that the blue colour in the ice is more intense. Our two guides led the way, sometimes using their ice picks to create stairs for the rest of us, or scouting ahead, as in the pic below.

It was a beautiful and alien landscape, unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. Here is a shot of a sink hole that dropped away to the sound of running water below… the opening was the perfect size for a person to drop through.

And in this shot you can see tiny holes full of water with black rocks at the bottom. This is cryoconite; the black colour absorbs solar radiation and melts the surrounding ice, leaving these little pits.

We stopped for lunch by a big lake on top of the glacier with the most incredible shades of blue. Of course we ate standing because there was nowhere dry or warm to sit. Here is a shot of Lesley next to it…

…and in the middle of a daring leap over a mini river to reach the lunch spot. Going in would be a bit of a disaster, given the water is around two degrees celsius.

In all we had about 4 hours on the glacier before coming back the way we’d came earlier in the day. We warmed up with some coffee when we finally got to the first hut and out of the rain, then to celebrate a job well done everyone got a glass of whiskey with a chunk of glacier ice in it when boarding the catamaran.

Our remaining time in El Calafate wasn’t nearly so eventful. The best thing we did was have dinner at a restaurant called Mi Rancho. The venue was a smallish cottage that was actually an original building dating back to the time when the entire town was part of a giant estancia. Lesley had some of the best lamb of her life and Tim devoured an amazing plate of osso bucco.

Up next was the small mountain village of El Chalten, located a few hours drive north (still within the Los Glaciares National Park) where we had a bit over a week for trekking. We’ll cover it in the next post.

TL

Torres del Paine – hiking the W

Hello again,

Finally we were in Patagonia; getting there had felt so far away when we first left London. The weather in Puerto Natales didn’t improve in the days following our arrival, with persistent grey clouds and strong winds. It was enough to significantly weaken our enthusiasm for a multi-day trek that Tim had been dreaming of completing for years. Lesley didn’t actually know much about it, and we were both unable to do any research immediately beforehand because the internet was down at our accommodation.

There are many different ways to hike in Torres del Paine National Park, but the classic route is the “W”, which you can see in the middle of the map below. It can be walked in either direction, with options for both camping and refugios along the way. Some people talk about planning your route depending on the notoriously unpredictable conditions, but this is completely impractical for anyone but campers; we needed to fiddle our dates to get dorm beds when we booked two months in advance… for the shoulder season!

Suffice to say the information online is plentiful but brief and because of the myriad options, often frustrating. On the plus side we found the paths to be well marked, either with piled stones, red paint or various signs / markers. That was lucky, because all we had was the basic map handed out by the tourist information office and national park service; we couldn’t find a single store in town with a topographical map! We also wish we’d known in advance how plentiful the mountain streams would be – you can drink directly from them and a 1L bottle per person turned out to more than ample in between. Tim ended up carrying a 2L plastic bottle “just in case”; he complained about it taking up space in his full pack every day.

Prior to setting out, we had a weather forecast from the tourist information office and we knew roughly how long each day would be, but we had little idea of the altitude variations or distances involved. Which is to say our mental preparation was poor…for some reason both of us seemed to be expecting a walk in the park. In the end, we trekked about 90kms over five days and suffered some tantrums along the way. So here it is…

Day 1: Puerto Natales to Refugio Chileno, round trip to Las Torres

We woke up and the weather sucked again. A part of us wished we could just skip the whole thing and stay indoors, but knowing how quickly things could change (and that we’d already paid for it) we head to the bus station to make our way into the National Park. It was a few hours before we pulled up at the ranger station, where we paid our entrance fee and signed declarations to abide by park rules.

It was then a minibus to Las Torres Hotel, where the road ended and our trekking began. Some people stay the night there, but we couldn’t really see the point in that. Tim was really determined to see the iconic Las Torres; huge granite towers that are really the parks’ superstars (in our opinion). In particular, he wanted to see them at sunrise…something he had at least prepared Lesley for in advance. All this meant that we needed to stay somewhere closer, and without a tent this meant Refugio Chileno.

The roughly three hour trek there was fairly easy, though Tim was carrying a heavy shopping bag with lunch supplies that made it feel like a long walk home from the supermarket. The views were pretty underwhelming, particularly in the ugly conditions. We did pass some gauchos on horseback coming in the opposite direction…they are basically the cowboys of the south. The shot below shows the view up the valley (the easternmost line of the W), and you can just see the roof of the refugio above the river.

The walk up to the Torres was supposed to be 2.5 hours up and a little less back. We had time to go up that afternoon and Tim was keen, if only to figure out the trail which we planned to do in the dark next morning. We set off after checking into our eight bed dorm (with bunks three levels high) and leaving a bunch of gear in a locker. It would be fair to say that we were questioning our sanity, or at least the rationale for the extra walk, right up until we arrived at the towers. The last one hour section was a real scramble up and over some steep rocks with a 300 metre ascent, but even with the view partially obscured by cloud it was a majestic scene (see pic). Tim rushed around taking pictures to try and figure out the best spot for the next morning whilst Lesley made two cups of tea (we’d bought a thermos for the trip, which was a definite win). We also spotted a fox wandering casually amongst the boulders.

It was only on the way down that Tim realised he’d barely spent any time actually taking it in. As we passed the Torres campsite we saw a couple peering into the forrest. Tim jokingly asked if they’d seen a puma, but it turned out to be an Andean deer or Huemul – actually even rarer to see. We felt quite lucky to spot one, though a puma would have been cooler.

We got back to Chileno at 18:00, officially the time at which the trail closed, fairly exhausted and desperate for a shower. Dinner was a communal event, and we got chatting to two couples from our dorm room, one of which was Matt and Lindsey from Texas. We hit it off and since our plans lined up, we ended up eating (and drinking) together each night for the rest of the trek. Despite turning in early neither of us slept particularly well, probably part anticipation and partly the guy snoring in one of the top bunks in our room.

Day 2: Round trip to Las Torres for sunrise, Refugio Chileno to Refugio Cuernos

The alarm went off at 3:30, which by anyones standards is pretty bloody early. We could hear a rushing sound outside and in our groggy state assumed it was the wind, immediately dampening our spirits. It was pitch black and we prepared as quickly and quietly as possible. Ten minutes later, hiking poles and torches at the ready, we pushed out the door. What we saw was some sort of miracle… the sky was completely clear and full of stars, and what we’d thought was the wind was the river running next to the hut (duh). This was hugely exciting, and combined with the spooky feeling of walking through the forrest at that time (our torches cast shadows and we both quietly wondered whether pumas hunted at night), we sped up to the towers in about 95 minutes, cutting 25 minutes off our previous time. Having some familiarity with the path really helped.

Just before we got over the last hurdle we looked back to see torches coming up the path, and on the horizon, a deep red sunrise. It would have made a great picture but Tim desperately wanted a good spot at the top so we pushed on. We could also see the top of one of the towers, with just a sprinkling of snow, glowing almost purple in the dawn light. When we made it up for the second time the scene was completely different and absolutely spectacular. It looked like we were beaten by just one person who had skirted up to the left – you can just make out some torchlight in the pic below.

We had our pick of spots and chose a rock that was jutting out into the lake, then Tim got busy setting up the camera gear. The towers started to glow orange as the sun hit them; it was a magnificent sight that made the effort of the previous day and the early morning worth it. Tim had wanted a moment like this ever since he first heard about Patagonia, and to get one after more than a week of dismal conditions was just magic. After snapping over one hundred photos we both sat and took it all in. Whilst others had made the sunrise climb (including Matt and Lindsey) everyone spread out so it didn’t feel crowded. The fox we’d seen the day before wandered along the shore just behind us.

Most people then head back down to either Chileno or the campsite for their breakfast, but we’d brought ours from Puerto Natales, so we had two day old croissants with cured meat and Bega cheese slices, and a cup of Nescafe from the thermos – breakfast of kings! All that really mattered was that we got more time up there.

Needless to say, we were on a high after that. It took a couple of hours to get back to Chileno, where we picked up the rest of our gear and re-packed. It would be necessary to walk part way back along the path we’d taken the day before, then turn right and follow the base of the Cuernos mountain range to our next hut. Fatigue was starting to set in, and we walked at a steady but slow pace. Lesley progressed into a bad mood as her feet began to swell and hurt over the 19 kilometres we walked that day. The scenery was pleasant but not enough to lift her spirits. The best distraction we had was watching snow fall down the sides of the mountains, producing a sound like thunder; presumably a spring phenomenon.

One constant motivation throughout was Refugio Cuernos, where we’d spent a bit extra to get a cabin, and the cherry on the cake was that these cabins had exclusive use of a hot tub. This shot was taken a couple of kilometres from the end, after multiple ascents and descents. Expecting to see the refugio around every corner and being disappointed was the hardest part of the day.

When we finally checked in Matt and Lindsey were enjoying a beer on the patio, and they clearly empathised with the struggle. We checked into our cabin, then Tim went off to get beer while Lesley hobbled toward the hot tub. It was an interesting contraption; the water was heated by a top loaded fireplace that sat in a predominantly submerged metal box, with a chimney to the side. It meant that no electricity was required, just the patience to fill it and build the fire, then wait for it to warm up. On first getting in the top few inches were super hot, and the bottom freezing cold. We eventually mixed it to a luke warm temperature, but it wasn’t until Tim went and found more logs and stoked the fire that things really started to heat up. It was almost the perfect temperature at five to 7 when we had to get out and go to dinner. In the end we decided to go in a second time after eating, and by that stage it was too hot to stay in for long. We needed an early night again because we knew the next day would be a long one…

Day 3: Refugio Cuernos, round trip French Valley, Refugio Paine Grande

It was a much better sleep in the cabin, but we still woke up tired and sore. Tim’s shoulders, knees and ankles were aching, and Lesley’s feet still hurt, along with her legs. We were finding our cardio fitness was holding up well, but the limitations of packing for carry on only were being exposed by the long distances…full hiking boots and bags with better padding probably would have made a big difference.

Breakfast service was chaotic and fairly late, starting at 7:30 and dragging on for an hour. It meant we didn’t get away until 9:00, and we expected 11 hours of walking ahead of us. Tim stopped to take a couple of photos on the way out; you can see the hot tub and our cabin in the shot below, with the Cuernos mountains in the background.

We needed to get to Campo Italiano at the base of the French Valley, the middle section of the W. We would drop our bags there and make the roughly 700 metre net ascent to Mirador Britanico (the path to the Mirador Frances slightly higher up seemed to be closed), before turning around and coming back down again. The first section beneath the Cuernos was really quite pretty, taking us right down next to the lake (see picture) and through dense forrest. Some of the trees had a real bonsai look to them with their tiny, waxy leaves.

We made it to Italiano in good time and saw loads of bags leaning against the rangers hut, so we repacked in order to leave Lesley’s bag and most of the clothes at the base. It was a steep climb, particularly that first section from camp. At one point we used ropes to pull ourselves up a rocky incline. It was cloudy but most of the peaks were still visible. The ascent took about 2.5 hours, including stops to watch the mini avalanches on nearby mountains and for lunch. At least we didn’t need to contend with altitude; the entire W is less than 2000m above sea level. Here are a few shots of the spectacular views, though you can see the weather had turned by this stage.

Our knees were really feeling it on the way back down. In terms of difficulty the section between Italiano and Paine Grande (our hut for the night) was a “green” – i.e. the easiest. For some reason the stroll we expected turned out to involve more ascents and descents, and the few hours that had sounded so easy turned out to be a few hours of endurance training. The National Park trail marker signs were placed incorrectly so that at one point we were prematurely told we’d completed the days ascent…not helpful. Through clenched teeth we power walked to try and get it over with as quickly as possible. Almost immediately after leaving Italiano the effects of a giant fire were visible. In 2011 a hiker started a blaze that burned most of the areas around Lake Pehoe. Four years later, grass and small shrubs have returned, but that’s about it. This is the view back to the entrance of the French Valley and the Cuernos mountains after an hour or so walking.

Just before we reached Paine Grande we overtook Matt and Lindsey, then got stuck behind a troupe of young campers plodding along the path with their heavy packs. Tim was a little less than polite when they failed to give way to us, and later after we’d checked in Tim enjoyed watching them struggle to pitch their tent in the wind from the comfort of our warm room. Yes… we were a little over it after our walk of 27 kilometres and ascent and descent of 1200 metres.

That night we needed alcohol, so we met Matt and Lindsey in the bar and started with a couple of beers and a bottle of carmenere. A group of women had clearly started a lot earlier than us and were yelling and screaming drunkenly at the refugio bar. We were exhausted and it felt good to laugh and sympathise over dinner. We polished off another bottle in one of the common rooms before bed, sitting near the fire. We’d actually been given a private room; completely unexpected and a total bonus, so we slept well. The hardest part of the trek was over.

Day 4: Refugio Paine Grande to Refugio Grey, round trip to Glacier Grey

A leisurely start was in order for day four; Refugio Grey was only supposed to be three and a half hours away, so there was no need to hurry. The remaining highlight was seeing Glacier Grey, which we kept referring to as Gracier Gley.

The walking was relatively easy, though the aforementioned fire had really taken a toll on the landscape. Some crazy people had left Paine Grande early in the morning, sped up to the glacier and doubled back to catch the 12:30 catamaran, so we started to pass some familiar faces (and feel glad we weren’t doing that). Following our first glimpse of Grey we started to descend, but didn’t get far before bumping into Kat and Ryan from the Navimag. It was great to see them and during our brief chat they recommended walking past the refugio for better views of the glacier, and not taking too much convincing, we committed ourselves to the task, moving a little bit faster now to fit everything in.

After making it to our lodgings for the night, dumping our bags and eating lunch we resolved to do the extra kms and set off. To keep this short, the views were certainly good, though the glacier was backlit at that time of day, so not great for photos. There was also a lot of ascent required, which Kat and Ryan had craftily not mentioned. Still, we were glad to have made the effort. The craziest bit was passing over this Indiana Jones style suspension bridge; Lesley was way out of her comfort zone. The glacier is in the background.

We also made a stop at the more traditional viewpoint, just fifteen minutes from the refugio. As we were preparing to leave we stopped to watch a condor ride the wind currents. After quietly admiring the huge bird Tim eventually decided to get his camera out, and that was the moment it disappeared.

When we got back there was no hot water in either of the women’s bathrooms when Lesley went to shower (she tried two floors, four showers, and asked them to fix it once). Lesley had been motivating herself with the thought of a shower, so she had a minor blow up at the staff over it when the showers continued to be icy cold. At dinner with Matt and Lindsey that night we passed on our knowledge of the trail (like wise old sages) to the new faces sitting around the table (they were just starting and walking the route in the opposite direction). The four of us ended up outlasting everyone but the staff, being the last to turn in that evening. We said our farewells and exchanged contact details because we were leaving early next morning.

Day 5: Refugio Grey to Refugio Paine Grande, exit to Puerto Natales

Our final day meant retracing steps to Refugio Paine Grande and catching the 12:30 catamaran out of the park. The only highlight was seeing a family of three condors swooping directly overhead in the valley ten minutes from the end. We ate our packed lunch in the Refugio, relieved to have the last of the walking done. The sandwiches we’d been given were bizarre enough to warrant mention here.. about two inches of bread and 5mm of filling. When the catamaran pulled up at the jetty it was overcast and cold. Some of the passengers disembarking where evidently a little put off by the grim faces of the trekkers queued up to leave; one asked “Where are the smiles people?”

It would be about four hours until we got back to Puerto Natales, where we would have a full day to relax (aka get laundry done) before leaving Chile. This was the southern extreme of our trip at over 51 degrees south, ending a long journey down the western coast of South America. But we weren’t done with Patagonia yet… next up was El Calafate in Argentina to the north east. We’ll update you on our time there in the next post.

TL

Santiago to Puerto Natales by bus and Navimag ferry

Hello again,

We could have flown to the south of Chile, but since we had the time and inclination, we decided to take a longer route. One of Lesley’s colleagues had recommended a ferry through the fjords of the south, and it seemed an ideal opportunity to glimpse some untamed landscapes and whet our appetite for Patagonia.

But first we needed to get to Puerto Montt, some 15 hours south by bus from Santiago. Rather sick of overnight trips by this stage (and with accommodation already booked), we decided to do this by daylight, which meant a 6:00am departure on our last day. Because of our limited Spanish and poor communication from the AirBnB host this was needlessly stressful, from getting a taxi (in the end we used Uber) to finding the bus. When we left our Uber ride things went south quickly; it wasn’t the terminal we were expecting and we couldn’t see any sign of our bus company. Cue panic, a second taxi ride to a different bus terminal and then running around accompanied by lots of swearing and anxiety. We knew that if we missed it our next option wouldn’t be until that evening and we’d have to burn a full day in Santiago with our bags. In the end, it all worked out fine, but it was an extremely unpleasant and frustrating experience – something we’d hoped to avoid. To rub salt in the wound, when the bus finally did get going (late) the first stop was the bus station we’d expected, right next door to where we’d been dropped off by our Uber driver.

Our reward was one long day sitting on our asses. The onboard entertainment sucked and the DVD player kept freezing, so we got three jittery hours of some Spanish speaking comedian and then further punishment with “The Expendables 2″, before the machine presumably gave up the ghost and we could read in peace. There was only one actual break at about 10:00 where we could get a hot drink and a sandwich; it later turned out the onboard lunch was a cookie and a poppa / juice box (we’d packed chicken sandwiches just in case). Unexpectedly, a Chilean lady took us under her wing and bought us coffees in return for some banter, and she even offered us her business card and accommodation at her home should we ever be in her part of the country again. Lesley thought it was a really nice gesture, but Tim thought that level of friendliness was immediately suspicious.

We made it to Puerto Montt at about 21:00. In this part of the world the sun had just set, so at least it didn’t feel too late. Our hotel wasn’t anywhere near the terminal so we took a taxi and ended up having dinner there. The only good part of the day was that meal (salmon with shrimp risotto) and the bottle of Laura Hartwig carmenere we ordered off the menu.

The next morning we visited the hotel gym and shopped for some supplies, including three bottles of red and a couple of mugs that we planned to sneak on board (alcohol is officially banned on board but the rule is regularly broken in the privacy of the cabins). We also visited the Navimag ferry offices to check in that morning (we weren’t due back until 18:00) and walked back along the waterfront. It isn’t the sort of beach that attracts sunbathers or swimming of any kind, with cold grey blue waters, framed by grey blue mountains, and at the time, grey blue cloudy skies. When we returned to the office that evening we were sussing out other passengers – a big part of this trip is the communal dining experience and chatting to other travellers. It was about a 25 minute bus to the actual ferry from there, called the Eden, and it started to rain as we finally walked up the ramp with our bags. There were sealions sleeping on top of giant orange buoys just to the side of the ship, and it was nice to see them again after the Galapagos.

Happily for us, our two bed cabin was upgraded from a zero window to a one window room (see pic), and once aboard, we were grateful for the natural light. It’s funny how wildly peoples perceptions can differ, and TripAdvisor reviews of the Navimag are a great demonstration of this. We had mentally prepared ourselves for awful conditions and even worse food on board, but we found the Eden to be perfectly comfortable. Our cabin was clean, as were the shared bathrooms. The showers had plentiful hot water and the food got the job done, though clearly it was a means to an end. We also had a guide who provided updates and lectures throughout the day on the fauna, and to our relief, met a few good people.

The first meal felt a bit like the first day of school or maybe a school camp – we sat down at an empty table wondering if someone would “pick us”. That sounds pathetically insecure but it’s nevertheless true. The couple that sat down, Kat and Ryan, turned out to be the people we got along best with (though we chatted with quite a few others), and in the end we exchanged contact details. Kat was born in Manly and grew up in Killara, and she left Australia at around the same time as us, and ended up marrying Ryan (from the States). Both of them had quit their jobs in advertising and were travelling for about a year to try and figure out what was next – some of their ideas sounded similar to our own. We certainly felt we had more than a bit in common, and enjoyed some good banter over wine in our camping mugs.

The trip south through the fjords took three nights. It was cloudy, windy and threatening rain most of the time. It’s fair to say the weather could have been worse; this is one of the wettest places in the world, with 5-7 metres falling each year. You also have the Patagonian Ice Field nearby, the third largest in the world (after Greenland and Antarctica), so no surprise, it was cold. By the last day, when the scenery was the most spectacular, the wind was howling and it was both raining and hailing. When we weren’t listening to our naturalist guide Percy, we spent the time reading, exploring the decks (you could pretty much see everything in twenty minutes), taking in the views and chatting to other passengers. We also got to visit the captains bridge and check out the various instruments.

In 2014 one of the Navimag boats sank near Puerto Natales, and the prospect of something similar happening in these waters wasn’t exactly comforting. We passed a much older wreck, apparently part of a dodgy insurance claim gone wrong (see pic). The mountains and fjords (carved by glaciers) don’t have much topsoil, so it’s basically rock covered in sparse vegetation making building all but impossible. As a result, you really feel you are sailing through the ends of the earth, with nary a sign of human habitation visible. You have the chance to see all manner of animals, including orcas, blue whales and wandering albatross, but we only saw some small birds from a distance and have to admit to being a little disappointed in that regard.

Seasickness wasn’t a problem, though we had one relatively rough stretch through open ocean for about 15 hours on night two. Due to the rocking of the waves we decided to postpone drinking any of our red wine. When we lay in bed and felt our stomachs being thrown up and down, we congratulated ourselves on making a good decision. The rocking became more intense after 4:00, so much so that it woke Lesley up. Tim slept right through, which Lesley couldn’t believe, saying in the morning “Where is your survival instinct?!”

We made one stop on the second last day at Puerto Eden (pictured). Some of the residents there are direct descendants of the Kawésqar peoples, meaning “mussel eater”, a name which represents their original nomadic seafaring lifestyle. We met a nice Swiss / Mexican couple from Mexico City, and they had been chatting to some of the residents of Puerto Eden. Apparently depression is a real problem in the town as they feel cut off and forgotten by the rest of the world, which really isn’t hard to understand. Their livelihood is predominantly fishing. Speaking of fishing, salmon farming is big business in this part of the world. Navimag carries about 600 tonnes of salmon food to Puerto Natales every week, and the pellets, which form a sort of brown mud, are having a terrible impact on the local ecosystem.

When we finally did arrive in Puerto Natales the Maritime Authority had closed the port to all traffic due to winds up to 30 knots, which later increased to 50-60 knots, and we had to wait. Apparently the jetty they have there is relatively flimsy, so docking such a large vessel in the conditions posed a significant risk to the jetty (but not the Eden). The upshot was instead of disembarking at 12:00, we got off the boat at about 21:30. We actually quite enjoyed the wait. Lesley napped before we finished a bottle of Casa Silva carmenere in our cabin, feeling quite comfortable and rather hoping for an extra night. At least we got a free lunch and dinner out of the experience. For us, the Navimag was a pleasant enough way to cover the distance, though the views didn’t quite match up to the amazing vistas we’d read about online. We were glad to meet some really nice people along the way, and have continued to bump into some of them throughout our time in Patagonia.

Now for the main event. Torres del Paine and the “W” circuit, a four night trek through spectacular landscapes. We were hoping for a miracle on the weather front… read all about it in the next post.

TL

Back to Chile

Hello again,

It’s been a while since we last posted because of the patchy internet in this part of the world, so get ready for some updates.

We checked out of the Mendoza Hyatt after one last room service breakfast with a “so long and thanks for all the toiletries”. The bus ride to Santiago across the Andes provided some beautiful views of snow capped mountains. At the Argentina Chile border the immigration official quizzed Lesley first with the usual questions. When it was Tim’s turn the official asked whether we were together, and then said that Tim “must be having a really good trip”, a rather inappropriate comment that Lesley nevertheless had a good laugh at.

Our introduction to Santiago was delivered in Spanish by our taxi driver as we drove from the central bus terminal to our apartment. Lesley understood about 20% of the spiel, Tim a little more, and we both smiled and nodded our way through it. Despite us doing our best to coordinate with our AirBnb host via SMS, we spent half an hour in the apartment complex lobby waiting to be let in. In the end his father, who spoke no English, turned up with the key.

The apartment itself was right near the Santa Lucia hill in the centre of the capital and it turned out to be a fairly ideal base. It was on the 17th floor of just one of a number of towers, with a couple of run down gyms, a swimming pool (closed for maintenance) and a communal laundry (very useful). We discovered an amazing supermarket on our second day – not quite Woolworths Warringah Mall but the closest thing we’ve found to it in South America. Finally we had some choice when it came to cooking dinner, an exciting prospect! They even had Twinings Prince of Wales tea and Tim Tams.

The walking tour we did on our first full day was great, from Plaza de Armas to the Bella Vista neighbourhood. There are lots of Plazas de Armas in South America… Armas translates to “weapons” and this was generally the spot they would be stored in case of an invasion. Along the way we learnt about Chilean politics and their turbulent recent past – there was a bullet hole on one of the statues outside the presidential palace – and some lighter things like “coffee with legs”. These are coffee shops throughout the city where attractive women in short skirts serve hot beverages to an almost exclusively male clientele – though things get seedier in the nastier parts of town. It’s almost the Hooters of caffeine. This walking tour led us to neighbourhoods we would never have thought to explore on our own, and left us with plenty of recommendations for wine bars, restaurants and activities to fill the rest of our days in Santiago.

We visited two museums during our time there. The first was the Museum of Pre-Colombian Art, which randomly included a bunch of Aztec and Mayan artefacts. The real reason we’d gone was to see Incan artefacts from Chile, and also treasures from the Mapuche culture. The Mapuche are indigenous inhabitants of southern Chile and southwestern Argentina. They managed to fight off both the Incas and the Spanish, and today make up the vast majority of indigenous people in Chile (but only around 10% of the country’s total population). A couple of things stood out, the first being these wooden statues which were placed on tombs in ancient Mapuche cemeteries. The detail made us laugh when it explained that spirits of regular folk (i.e. not great warriors or chiefs) were sent to the west after death to “eat bitter potatoes beyond the sea”. The second item is pictured, a “quipus” or knotted cord which was used by the Inca state as a sort of ledger (i.e. to keep their accounts). Information was stored in the quantity, type and position of knots on primary and secondary cords strung together…this one holds over 15,000 pieces of data. Excel is definitely easier.

The second museum we visited was that of Memory and Human Rights. This was principally a record of atrocities committed under the Pinochet dictatorship from 1973 to 1990. We were familiar with the name but many of the details shocked us. Many Chileans went abroad during these years to escape persecution, and those that didn’t risked being tortured or killed. Some people simply vanished – there is evidence of the regime dumping bodies at sea from helicopters. This aligned with Lesley’s current reading programme – she has worked through a trilogy of books by Isabel Allende, who is niece to the president who was overthrown by the military. The final book in the trilogy is “House of the Spirits” which covers the personal experience of a family who has members tortured and killed. Very powerful and a good read if you’re looking for one. We also recently watched the movie “No” on the referendum which led to Pinochet’s removal from power, another one to look out for.

Of course we’re big fans of Chilean vino and so a pilgrimage was necessary. In the end we decided it had to be to the Colchagua Valley, home to the country’s premium wines and particularly some stunning reds, notably carmenere and cabernet sauvignon. Without a car we were stuck looking for tours, some of which were ludicrously expensive. In the end we settled on a newish company we’d found on TripAdvisor, with promising reviews and prices that we could rationalise. It turned out to be a great day. Our driver, Fernando, was one of the co-founders. He was another ex-IT guy who had thrown in the towel for his passion (wine). Since he couldn’t speak English, we also had an interpreter, Carolina. There were no other guests in the group, so we basically got a private tour experience.

We visited two bodegas. The first was Casa Silva, one of the countries best established producers. The grounds were lovely, with beautiful old buildings, a polo field, views of the Andes and loads of vines, some over 100 years old. To whet our appetite we took a tour of the facilities, including the wine “library” and quiet spaces for the ageing of the super premium reds. We also saw the car collection of the Silva family patriarch, “super” Mario. Clearly business was good. We couldn’t wait to try the wine by the time we sat down in the tasting room. There was no spittoon and the tasting portions were normal size glasses; we tried a sauvignon gris (a mutation of sauvignon blanc), a carmenere and a stand alone petit verdot, and walked out with a few bottles. The prices were fairly amazing, starting at about ten dollars for something imminently drinkable. We later toyed with starting a wine import business back home, but our research into Australian taxes killed that idea.

The second bodega was Laura Hartwig, a producer in the up and coming category. The stop included a three course lunch; entrees were empanadas and a crab bake, mains were tender meats with quinoa risotto (a new favourite of ours) and desserts were peaches and cream and a raspberry pancake for Tim. To get from the restaurant to the tasting room we took a horse and cart, which was completely unnecessary but we weren’t going to argue. It didn’t take long before we had a glass of 1998 chardonnay in hand that was still drinking well – something they’d found in the cellar and a nice bonus! Then on the guided tour we tried wine straight out of the vats, before starting the actual wine tasting with generous portions of carmenere, petit verdot and other blends. Needless to say, we napped in the car on the way home.

We spent the rest of our time in Santiago trying some local restaurants (there are many good options), going to the gym in the apartment complex, drinking Chilean wine and preparing for the weeks ahead. This included doing up a trail mix for hiking, and converting Chilean Pesos into USD in advance of re-entering Argentina. Lesley also had a couple of calls with EY Australia and is getting closer to agreeing final arrangements for her return to work in January 2016.

Overall, we enjoyed Santiago and would be happy to return one day, if only to visit the Colchagua valley again and make the effort to get to Valparaiso. We think Santiago’s comforts were particularly alluring after months on the road – it could just as easily underwhelm a different traveller at a different stage of their trip.

Next up, the great journey south to Torres Del Paine, which we’ll detail in the next post.

TL