Mendoza

Up way to early and with a hangover which was not good. Especially as we were crossing at high altitude. On the bus as well as dying, I had a bad pressure pain in my head from the the altitude. The journey was absolutely fantastic passing through amazing deserts and the highest mountain in the southern and western hemisphere and the highest outside of Asia - Aconcauga. We found out five people had died recently climbing it due to extremely bad weather. Of course, Colin and I were going to climb it until we heard that.

It was bloody hot in Mendoza and it`s nice to still be in warm areas after the cold of the Andean countries and Patagonia. Our hostal was probably one of the nicest we`d stayed in and our room had a telly which Colin was very happy about considering we`d not even watched anything for six weeks or so. Colin didn`t want to leave. For the next couple of days we just relaxed and ate well apart from a horrible pizza. The Argentines couldn`t make a pizza to save their lives. Their idea of one, is to fry a pizza base, stick a load of old cheese on it and then cover the thing in the most hideous cheap ham possible. Naaasty!

As Mendoza is the centre of the wine industry in Argentina, we decided to take a wine tasting tour. It was pretty cheap and we weren`t expecting much from the vineyards themselves. The bus turned up and it seemed as if we were going on a Saga Holiday. There was one older gentleman who looked like Lurch from the Addams Family and a rather elderly lady (at least 80) who thought she looked good in a boob tube and hot pants. We named her Sylvia. This is just a sample of the people we shared the day with. Our first winery was ok, nothing special. Of course, the most important part was the wine tasting; it was great to sample different wines, one after the other and taste the differences between. Unfortunately the wine itself was not particularly great and resembled an aged and oaked, Sarsdons vinegar. Sylvia bought six bottles of the nasty stuff just for her breakfast.The next tour was to an Olive Oil factory. It was pretty boring as you can imagine but we had a lovely tour guide. We had one strange lady on the tour though: she constantly interrupted the whole time and would put her glasses on and go over everything with a fine tooth comb. The oil itself was pretty good and they laid out bread and sun-dried vegetables for us to try. Our final winery had nicer wine than the but less of it much to our dissapointment. Syliva bought another six cheap bottles for her lunch. After all this, we said a final good bye to Argentina with a nice dinner out and left the next morning back to Chile.

Santiago

After a good overnight bus we arrived in the capital of Chile, Santiago. The city was practically deserted as it was a Sunday morning. Our hostal was a bit weird but had lots of naughty kittens which were very friendly apart from one which was just plain nasty and constantly picked fights with the others. The area we stayed in was ok, a bit far from anywhere but had some good places to eat including a lunch where we had an aperitif (Pisco Sour), glass of wine and a digestif plus a starter, main and dessert all for a fiver! It was fantastic!

Santiago itself is not much to look at. Most of the old buildings have been destroyed in earth quakes and been rebuilt with nasty 70`s office blocks. We walked to the top of one if the hills in the city. It was hard going under the baking sun and Colin and I are pretty bored of walking up mountains and hills now. The views of Santiago were pretty good though. We got to the top, expecting some swimming pools but it turned out we had to get a cable car to another hill. The cars themselves are pretty rickety and for the whole time we were on them, Colin wouldn`t open his eyes and screamed like a girl whose had her ice cream stolen from her. Finally, we found the pools and went for a swim and relaxed for a while in the sun.

For our final evening, we headed to an area called Bellavista which is the party place. We ended up getting hammered and had to get on the bus the next day with a hangover to Mendoza in Argentina. Overall, Santiago`s ok to stay in for a couple of days but nothing more really. It`s nothing compared with the likes of Buenos Aires.

Pucon and New Years

Looking like an extra from Dawn of the Dead, carbuncles protruding from every possible part that a carbuncle can protrude, with Ad walking ten paces in front of me ringing a bell, shouting "unclean, unclean!" we leave Bariloche for pastures new and hopefully a cure to the tropical disease to which I have succumbed........We are off to Pucon in the Chilean Lake District where we have booked up a week's Spanish course, on a one to one basis.

We have a hostel booked that looks from the website to be a good cheap place to stay, however when we arrive the door is opened by a sulky teenager who mumbles so fast that we haven't got a clue what he is saying. We nod and pretend to understand and he shows us to our room. Unfortunately the advert and the reality do not collide. We are basically shown to a varnished garden shed which smells of damp and and would be more appropriate to storing shovels and possibly bags of turnips. We are supposed to be staying here for a week, but decide that unless we want to catch woodworm of rising damp that we had better look for something better tomorrow...there is cheap and there is cheap and nasty!!! One does have some standards...however low.

First day of school and I am really nervous. Ad is dressed up in smartly pressed shorts, tie, knee length socks and has an apple for the teacher, I look like an extra from the Bash Street Kids...not to worry I shall nick his dinner money at play-time!! We both have our own teachers and they ask us how much we already know. Swotty Ad tells them he knows lots, I tell them I'm stupid and although I've studied Spanish for years can barely say "hola". It's always better to let people think you are stupid than to prove to them that you actually are.....The first lesson (3hours) goes really well, I just go over stuff that I have already done but need reminding of, and Swotty Ad is bombarded with more tenses than I knew existed.


Pucon is a great little town nestled on the shores of a lake and surrounded by beautiful scenic countryside. Dominating the skyline is an active volcano rising high above the town. It makes you wonder why on earth people would build a town in the pathway of one of natures most destructive phenomenons! Still it looks good.

There is so much to do and to see in this area that it is the perfect place to combine classes and sightseeing.

After our first lesson we have booked up to do some white water rafting. This is a totally new experience; this is the first time on the whole trip so far that we are about to undertake an adventure type activity where, because I have done this twice before and Ad is a novice, that he is more scared than I am. Tee hee. We take a minibus out to the river and Ad is going paler and paler by the second. When we arrive we are togged up in wet suits, life jackets, helmets and for some bizarre reason cagoules...we all look right plonkers. The guides give us a safety talk first of all and because they are emphasizing the do's and don'ts of what we should do in emergencies, Ad is looking slightly ill. I've never noticed this before but when he is nervous he gets very serious. I think it's all a hoot!!!

We clamber in the dinghy and for some reason I'm put right up the front. We set off. The guide goes through more safety instructions, how to follow his commands and what to do if we fall in. The river is gentle as we paddle off trying desperately to row as a team. I had forgotten how much hard-work rowing is and after ten minutes I'm bleeding knackered. The first rapid approaches, just a gentle class III, and we zoom through the chopping churning splashing water with no problems. Ad is still nervous and keeps asking if he is remembering the guides instructions properly. The next rapid looms, a class IV, we go into it backwards, the guide is shouting instructions to paddle backwards, we get stuck in a swirling rapid just by a huge boulder, the guide is hollering, I'm leaning out the boat trying to paddle between the rock, the boat suddenly swings round facing front and I go flying backwards over the side!!! The boat carries on and I get into the safety position, feet first, to ride the rapids and catch them up. Fantastic!!! The best part of rafting is when you fall in. We pass through a few more rapids and all goes well, we get absolutely soaked but the exhilaration is great. We then come up to a class VI, this is too dangerous for us to go through, as it is just too powerful and incorporates a 25 foot drop; so we paddle over to the side of the river and disembark; we have to walk around this one. However without all of the passengers the guides can shoot this mother on their own... we all gather on a rock to watch them go through...they make it look easy, but watching them go through makes my valve vacillate.....We return to the boats by jumping off a 20 foot high cliff into the churning waters below and swimming to meet it...for me that was the most scariest part!!

We have rented a car and go off exploring the nearby countryside, a 20 minute drive and we arrive at a gorgeous lake surrounded by forest clad mountains and a lovely beach. I don't think that I have ever swam in a lake before and as it is absolutely boiling we go for a swim ( when I say swim I use that term very loosely..in reality I'm flapping and thrashing my arms and legs around like a drowning baboon having a seizure).

We continue our lessons in the mornings, mine are going quite well and reminding me off stuff that I had forgotten that I ever knew. Ad is, to put it mildly, being stretched to capacity. As Thursday is New Years Day we have a day off from lessons, and we are given heaps of homework to do for Friday; Ad has to write a 20 minute presentation. We decide that we really should try to complete our tasks before we go out tonight, NYE, so that tomorrow we can have a full relaxing day...yeah right, that was the plan but after a couple of large vodkas the plan is abandoned in favour of more drinkies. We have a table booked at a restaurant which turns out to be quite good. However after a few Pisco Sours and a bottle of wine we is both feeling a little squiffy-fied. Approaching midnight practically everyone from the town has made their way down to the beach where at the stoke of 12 all the lights in the town are switched off and a firework display takes place for 15 minutes. Considering that Pucon is a tiny little town the display is actually pretty good and the atmosphere on the beach is fantastic, well everybody is drunk I suppose. After a few more sherbets, unfortunately the ravages of alcohol get the better of us and we fall home a collapse in bed at around 2am...we is turning into real lightweights.

New Years Day. Uuurgh. We awake late and a Salvation Army band seems to have taken residence in my head and Allied Carpets appear to have fitted an Ax-minster inside my mouth... I feel rough. Its a funny thing to realise that on the first day of each year there are millions of people around the world all pledging that they will never drink again...we never learn. Once we finally pull ourselves together we set off for an afternoon on the beach...what a way to start the new year....sunbathing, swimming and relaxing in 27 degrees of heat...aaaaah! After a few hours of slowly crisping ourselves we decide we'll go find a good spot to take some pictures of the volcano as the sun sets. We have a place in mind and set off, unfortunately once we get there it doesn't appear to be so good, therefore we drive off in search of a better location. After a couple of hours through windy twisty country lanes we stumble upon a tiny, exclusive-looking village nestled against another lake. Across the water rises the volcano. We stay for sunset and are rewarding with pictures that are nice but not that fantastic. Never mind. We set off for home, however after driving for about an hour we realise that we are going the wrong way and have no idea which way we came. Oh dear. Three hours later, after a little bit of trial and error we finally return home...knackered. It's really late, and we haven't done our homework for school. Naughty boys

Bumple-ation Update: I have been to the Doctors and apparently I've been having an allergic reaction to bed-bugs. After a couple of days taking anti-histamines, they are slowly disappearing and one is feeling tip-top once again.

We actually stay in Pucon for 9 days. It is a great town although a bit touristy. In our remaining time we spent each morning at school which was really worth the money. For me I can now converse in present, past and future tenses ( although they are very simple and apparently there are still loads more tenses to learn) and Ad is a pretty good with the more complicated stuff. Each afternoon we took the car and explored the surrounding area. There are some great places to visit, beautiful waterfalls, lakes, hikes, the volcano ( which can be climbed but we were too lazy and couldn't be arsed to get up at 4 in the morning - which is the time that the guides set off) and one particular laguna (Laguna Azul) that is such an unbelievable colour that it looks like someone must have poured food colouring into the water.

We have really had a great time here and we even toy with the idea of staying another week and continuing our studies, but we decide that the time is right to move on....to Santiago de Chile.

Bariloche and Christmas

It's with a tinge of regret that we leave El Calafate and make our way up to the Argentinian Lake District town of Bariloche. Ad has not got the photos that he had hoped to get. The weather has not been on our side for perfect sunrise and sunset photo opportunities, plus when conditions have been good we have not been in the right location, not having a car. We have really had to soul search whether to carry on with our original plans or whether to go back to Puerto Natales and try to get better pictures. However Christmas is coming up and it all seems a bit of a mission to retrace our steps, let alone that it will put us behind schedule by at least a week or more. So we decide to push on.

When we arrive the weather is gorgeous and warm; we are going to be here for Christmas, I have never been away at this time of year before and certainly haven't experienced a hot Yuletide. Somehow is doesn't feel right. There's a little part of me that is missing being at home; not because I am a big fan of Christmas but I am a big fan of the parties that go with it...which we are missing. Which reminds me that, as in the often mis-quoted lyrics of the Police song Message in a Bottle - " it's been a year since I broke my nose" - aaaah Christmas memories.

Bariloche is heaving with people. It's situated right on a lake, with beaches and surrounded by dry deserty-type hills, some in the distance are snow capped. It is a lovely setting. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and just as in Spain the evening will be an important family event. We look around to try and book a restaurant. However, the few places we try are doing a set menu and the prices are exorbitant, roughly four times the amount one would normally pay. Sod that. We decide that we will just go out tomorrow and eat wherever we can cheaply. We both have this niggly feeling about Argentina, in general, it is so expensive compared to other South American countries and one can't help feeling that you are being ripped off a bit. Having said that, we have had some great meals here and the wine is excellent...and cheap when compared with the UK.

For some reason we don't really know what to do with ourselves now we have reached Bariloche, so as normal, when in doubt, we get drunk. Well it is the baby Jesus's Burpday after all.

Christmas Eve night and we get all dolled up for a nice evening on the town. I is wearing my best boob tube and hot pants and is looking fierce!! We stroll down the main boulevard, obviously ignoring the wolf whistles that I am receiving, and search for somewhere decent to dine: somewhere romantic, intimate and a little special. After 2 hours of searching we can't find anywhere that we can afford. Even a scabby old Irish pub is charging 200 Pesos (40 pounds) for a set menu. We search some more, but to no avail. Ad is getting the hump as he wanted tonight to be special. And in the end it does turn out to be really memorable; for with no other option available to us, we end up dining on the first floor, VIP Area, of a Shell petrol station, overlooking the petrol pumps, eating cheeseburgers and chips. We is so classy!!

Christmas Day and I wake up itching like mad and appear to have been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes the size of jumbo jets. I have huge bumples down the upper part of my right arm. Annoyingly Ad doesn't have one little nip. I comfort myself with the thought that these mossies have got taste.

We wander around the town, where surprisingly lots of shops are open. For some reason Bariloche is the place for students in their final year of college, from all over Argentina, to come and party. There are huge hordes of spotty, floppy-bad-hair-styled teenagers roaming around in packs of twenty or more. They are a little boisterous, but generally ok. (Oh as an aside, one thing that is really sweet about the Argentinians is the way that they always greet each other with a kiss; young, old, boys, girls - whatever combination- there is always a kiss, I like that). The afternoon we spend on the beach, soaking up some rays thinking about the lovely weather we are missing in London. The evening and we have booked a good restaurant where we have the sort of evening we was hoping for yesterday, the food is excellent and the wine is perfect. For my first Christmas abroad it has been lovely, relaxed and spent with the most important person in my life; I have never spent a Christmas with a partner before..I like it.

These fucking mossies bites are doing my head in, they itch so much I decide to sleep in my thermal underwear so the little fuckers can't get me!!!

Oh shit. I wake on Boxing Day and am covered with new, huge, bumpalations all over my back, arms and legs!!! Oh fucking hell, I think I have the plague, or small pox, or some tropical disease where I shall turn into one huge bumple and then explode!!!! I shall probably have to be hospitalised, isolated and probed in every orifice with big pointy things as hundreds of Doctors stand around me shaking their heads in consternation and bafflement at what ailment I have succumbed to and put me in a big jar, pickled, so that generations of new Doctors can stare at the freak of nature that I have become, whilst I plead with them to treat me with dignity as even though I look like the elephant man I am a human being and have feelings: or worse I might be sold to a travelling circus, trust up in some smelly cage where I shall spend countless hours enduring the screams of horror from the public sightseers who have paid tuppence to wonder at the grotesque form laid before them!!!! . I'm now convinced that whatever is going on that I shall probably be dead by lunch time!! We go to the pharmacy where all the people waiting, plus the pharmacist's assistant, look me up and down and state their own prognosis. The general feeling is that I am having an allergic reaction to something. Yes!!! Of course, I know that!!! I'm having an allergic reaction to dying!!!! I settled on some anti-histamines and some advice from the assistant that I need to centre my energy and have good thoughts....she kisses me as I leave the shop. Gulp!!!I wonder whether she knows more than she is letting on.........

El Chalten and the Fitzroy

Up early on the bus to El Chalten. The ride was pretty good, although a sign on the bus said that you weren´t allowed to take your clothes off while on the bus - very odd. We passed through the Patagonian desert and finally started to see the Fitzroy range which looked absolutely amazing. The area is part of the Glacier National park which apparently contains the largest ice sheet outside Greenland and Antarctica. The bus stopped quickly for us to snap our first view of the mountains. As the town itself is in a national park, we´re required to stop and be given a talk about the rules and how to look after it, as well as information about the treks. In contrast to Torres del Paine, the treks can be done in a day and from the town. El Chalten is a real one horse town. There isn´t much to it and everything is really spaced out so you still have to walk far to get to anything. The place we stayed in, while not cheap was probably the nicest place on the whole trip so far. Really well decorated, cute and homely.

On that day, the weather was absolutely fantastic which is a rarity. We went the ranger station to check on the weather and was told it was going to get very bad. So much for camping! Colin suggested that we take one of the main treks up because the weather was so good. I wanted to go for sunset and after a little argument, I was persuaded. The trek was beautiful, passing over beautiful valleys, forests and lakes and had an amazing view of the mountains themselves. We found a great spot by a lake overlooking the mountains and had lunch there. The mountains really are some of the most stunning we`ve ever seen - pinnacles of rock permeating the sky. The photos just don`t do it justice. We headed back, having a great trek and seeing lots of beautiful mountains. Once we were back and having dinner we watched the sunset. It turned out to be completely cloudy - covering the mountains, and this is how it would remain for the rest of our stay. Thanks to Colin, we actually managed to see it.

The next day, we did a trek to a different area where a mountain called the Torre - a huge pinnacle of rock, was located. The trek itself was pretty easy and again took in fantastic forests, waterfalls, glaciers, mountains and lakes. The weather held up for most of it, although there was quite a lot of cloud around and we couldn´t see the tops of the mountains. The main destination of the trek is a lake where you can view the Torre from. It is pretty beautiful but we can`t actually see the main thing we came to see so we have lunch and head back. We had a great walk back, thoroughly enjoying it. The whole way back a storm was following us. We were constantly on the edge of it. The moment we got back it started to piss down and we were incredibly happy that we´d managed to do it in time and then watch the rain pouring while we sipped on a nice bottle of Argentinian red.

For our final two days, we did some more local walks. One to a viewpoint of the town and of the mountains (where we could see most of the mountains) and another to a pretty waterfall through a beautiful valley. We really enjoyed all the walks here. Shame about the weather but this area has some of the most unpredictable weather on the planet. Lucky we still managed to see some of it. We managed to eat pretty well here - in a fantastic meat place where Colin swears`he`d had the best lamb he`d ever tasted. This was pretty much the end of Patagonia for us. The next day we went back to El Calafate and then took a nasty thirty hour bus up to the Lake District in Argentina, a town called Bariloche to celebrate Christmas.

El Calafate and Perito Moreno

With regret, we left Puerto Natales back to Argentina and a town called El Calafate where we would see one of the supposed natural wonders of the world, Perito Moreno - a huge glacier that´s constantly advancing and one of the few remaining the world. The town nearby, El Calafate, is very touristy and expensive, although upon arriving, we found a nice and cheap place to stay from a lady waiting for the buses. The only thing odd about it was the receptionist. When we asked her a question she looked petrified and also looked like she was about to murder us, all at the same time. Everytime we spoke to her she had this strange face, very weird!

Deciding to go straight to the glacier, we hired a car from a very nice and helpful man. Car hire isn´t cheap here but it is much cheaper than taking one of the expensive, rip-you-off-to-hell tours that you find in Argentina. There´s not many signs in town, so I ask someone how to get to Perito Moreno and a guy tells me to take the road, left, out of town. After driving for twenty minutes we come across a police checkpoint and I ask if this is the correct road. It turns out, we´ve gone in completely the wrong direction and the man probably told us the wrong way on purpose! Cunt! Oh well, we find the right road had head out. The drive is pretty spectacular, going past lakes, deserts, mountains and glaciers. We enter the national park and the office is closed so we don´t have to pay and continue onwards past lakes and mountains covered in snow.














Our first view of the glacier is from faraway and it looks like a shining blue tongue. The colour has to be seen to be believed. There was only a few people there which was good as apparently the crowds can be unbelievable. The sight of Perito Moreno is quite simply, extraordinary. The glacier is up to 60m in height, 3 miles wide and 20 km in length. It comes down from three mountain areas which are permanently covered in ice and snow. The colour is a beautiful blue, punctuated by areas of white and areas of deep blue. Every so often, you hear a noise like thunder that is the glacier advancing which is does by up to 2 metres a day and every once in a while we saw bits of ice fall off the front of it. We walked around the network of catwalks which treated us to various viewpoints of it. We stayed for quite a beautiful, moody sunset before the long drive home. One the way, we narrowly missed Patagonian hares jumping out in front of the car and saw a couple of dead ones too. At one point, one jumped right in front of the car. I tried to swerve, slow down and drive around the poor thing but it actually run towards us and finally under the car. There was a big bump when we drove over it. There was nothing I could have done. I drove the rest of the way home feeling very sad, I´d never killed an animal before.

The next morning after barely any sleep, we work up late and had missed getting to the glacier for sunrise. We got there before anyone else and it was beautifully quiet, a part from the odd rumble from the glacier. We managed to have it to ourselves for a while, until, a huge group of turned up, disturbing our peace. In Perito Moreno we decided to do a walk to another viewpoint. Colin didn´t like this as he was waiting to see a big chunk fall off. Just as we got to the different viewpoint, we heard a huge bang and splashes followed by lots of screaming. A huge chunk had fallen off and we hadn´t seen it. Colin was not amused with me for making him walk in a different direction. Later on, we stayed at the main viewpoint as it looked like there was a huge area of ice that would fall off. We waited and waited. I had to go and check on the car and as I was coming back, a massive bit fell off which was fantastic. There`s huge waves in the lake afterwards. Satisfied that we had seen everything, we headed back to the town.

As it was so expensive to eat out, we decided to cook for ourselves. In our hostal, we had, basically, a whole cabin to ourselves. The kitchen was ours, the toilets were ours. It was great. Colin cooked a fantastic steak and we managed to connect the ipod up to the TV, so we had music played for the first time on the whole holiday. We drank lots of wine, listened to music and it felt like home. It was a lovely and memorable evening. The next day, we headed to the centre of trekking in Argentina, a town called El Chalten and home to the Fitzroy range of mountains.

Torres del Paine (Part 2)

Day four. We wake up feeling refreshed and only as if 14 rhinoceroses have been playing football with our clapped out excuses for bodies. The setting of our tent is so gorgeous that we even wake up at 5am to take in the sunrise. In front of us is a fantastic lake, to the left of us is a huge gushing river feeding the lake and to the right of us is the Cuernos mountains. This certainly goes a long way to eradicating the memory of the aches and pains of the last 3 days....almost. Only two days to go!!!!

We set off early and have a 5 hour walk to look forward to. We're not quite sure how hard today is going to be but when we compare,on the map, the distances and times given for previous days, it looks like this is going to be quite physical: also we are on almost the final stretch that will lead us up to Torres del Paine...which obviously means that we are going to have to go up. I hate going up.














We mince on for three hours over really flat ground, this is quite easy, although I am glad I didn't wear my heels. We have distributed the weight of our backpacks a bit more evenly, which is helping, although I think I can hear Camilla groaning that she doesn't have Ad's undivided attention anymore. We finally reach the end of the big fuck off mountain and make a right hand turn. Oh dear. The terrain takes a turn for the worse and it looks like we have a constant uphill walk for the next few hours. The weather worsens and whilst we seem to be walking just at the edge of rain we aren't soaked but the wind has picked up which is not making this uphill struggle any easier. A little while on and I think I can spot the Refugio. I point it out to Ad who then informs me that it isn't our refugio, that's the nice posh one, where sensible people stay; our place is another hour and a half up hills that are so vertical that I'm almost walking on the sky. Fucking hell, I think my legs are going to fall off. The worse thing is that for all my moaning and tiredness, there is fuck all I can do about it; its not like I can say oh bollocks I'm going home...we are in the middle of nowhere, it will take me two days to get to civilisation. So we march on. The scenery is quite spectacular but I'm too knackered to appreciate it. With one final last push we finally get to the top of this hill/mountain. We round the corner and the wind is so fierce that I feel like I am in one of those g-force simulator machines. Now we are traversing round the side of the hill/mountain that we have just climbed. The path is quite narrow with a big drop down on our right hand side. If I have walked all this way just to be blown off a mountain and be dead, then I shall be really annoyed!!! The path is gravel and shingle and the amount of shit that is being blown about makes our faces feel like they are being sandblasted. Ad gets something in his eyeball which, from the fuss that he is making, I can only assume is a piece of gravel the size of a bowling ball. Nelson and I soldier on until we finally reach the refugio. Thank fuck for that!














This is our final night camping under the stars (no homophobic comments please!!!). The bowling ball is still in Ad's eye and don't I know about it!! Tomorrow is our last day. The highlight of the trek, the Torres, are another 2 hours walk from the refugio: we way up the options; should we make the trek this evening or do it in the morning? Ad thinks we should do it this evening and possibly go up in the morning as well...he can see from my face that I am not liking that idea!! Once will be enough for me. We head off. The walk is quite pleasant for an hour, over rivers, through woods, up a few hills but unfortunately the bowling ball is making Nelson just a tad grumpy. Tears are streaming from his eyeball making visibility near to nothing. Ad seems to think that by shouting at it that this may dislodge the offending article. I say nothing. One learns when to keep ones mouth firmly shut. After an hour and a half the bowling ball seems to have grown to the size of beach ball and there is a real possibility that we may have to amputate Ad's head. The trek is too arduous with only one peeper and we decide to turn back. After half an hours snoozette, back at the refugio, the beach ball has finally had enough of winding Ad up and has disappeared without trace. Normal service is resumed. But its now too late to return to the Torres. We settled down for another comfortable nights sleep.














Day Five. THE LAST DAY! We have about 7 hours of walking to do today; up to the Torre and back then the final leg back to another refugio where will shall catch a bus to takes us back to the real world. We retrace the steps that we had taken yesterday evening and its funny how when you know where you are going that it doesn't seem so difficult the second time. We pass the point where we turned back and then another twenty minutes and we come out of the forest for the ascent to the big finale. Blimey, we had been warned by other travellers that the last part of this trek is quite difficult where one has to scramble up and over rocks and boulders and climb up to the top. Luckily we don't have our back packs with us which makes the going a little easier..but this is quite physical, and sometimes a little precarious. We meet two people coming down who assure us that, it really is worth the effort and comfortingly that its even more precarious coming back down. After three quarter of an hour we finally reach the top. The ascent is perfect in one way, that you don't actually see Torres del Paine until you have scrambled right to the summit of the climb. Before us rise the magnificent spectacle of these world famous natural monuments. A turquoise lake in the foreground gives way to the vertical rise of the base of the mountains on which the three ginormous tablets of rock, the Torres, jut proud and erect. They are really outstanding and make a fantastic final feast for your eyes on this ultimate day.














Once our eyes and senses have been satiated, with the view, we make our way back. We is going home!!! Two hours later and we pick up our packs from the refugio and embark on the final stretch. I'm practically running now...I'm thinking, shower, food, nice toilets, bed...comforts!! Another two and half hours, mostly downhill (I like downhill) we reach our final destination. The refugio is really posh and has a bar and chairs and cushions and normal things. We have a well deserved beer and look almost nostalgically at the map and the distance that we have walked...about 90km. Then, oh fuck me!!! We realise that we are in the wrong place and that the bus doesn't actually pick us from here... we have another 7km to walk!!

We reach the bus pick up point in good time. My whole body is aching from head to toe. We are filthy, hungry and exhausted. For all the moaning that I did all the way around (at one point Ad threatened to send me home to the UK), there is a huge sense of achievement in completing the circuit. I have never walked that far in my life and I feel quite proud of myself that I didn't just lay down after day one and wait for the condors to peck my eyes out. The scenery is beautiful, but for me it was tough. Would I do it again? No, is the answer. But the experience will be one that I shall remember for a the rest of my days, and no doubt in a few years time, when I recount the stories, the distances will probably have tripled and hardship will have been forgotten....but at the moment I just want a nice comfortable bed!!!

Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine (Part 1)

Another mammoth long boring bus journey that crossed four immigration points finally brings us to the Chilean town of Puerto Natales. The wind is blowing a gale and I have to tighten my headscarf in order that my toupee stays in place. The wind chill factor must be at least -250 and the streets are full of brass monkeys clutching their groins.

We have been trying to arrange a hiking trip around Torres Del Paine, however its a Bank Holiday here on Monday and everything is closed for two days. Boo. For some reason that for the life of me I cannot remember why, I have agreed to go on a five day hike around some mountains; because of the inaccessability there are just a handful of refugios scattered around the trail where we can camp for the night. YES I KNOW, CAMP!!! I must be bonkers! Ad has been having some email conversations with a trip organiser, trying to reserve places at the refugios, but the replies are sounding a little strange. They want us to pay up front before even receiving a confirmation that places have been booked. The guy is working in Chile but they want our credit card details faxed to London who then, apparently, will inform Chile that they have received the monies and then he will try to do the bookings. We want to start the hike on Tuesday but are not sure whether this is going to possible because of the Bank Holiday. The guy tells us to keep checking our emails for confirmation. This all sounds a bit dodgy to me.

We resign ourselves to the fact that we ain't gonna be able to do anything until the Tuesday morning and kick ourselves for getting involved with this trip organiser as we can arrange everything directly in Puerto Natales: which in fact we do and cancel with email-man who then sends us a really snotty note telling us that he has basically been working all over the bank holiday weekend just to reserve our places. We know this is a lie as we have been to the office in the town that he has been liaising with...he has sent one email to them. Smelly man!!


Five days in the wilderness!!! Walking with backpacks!! Sleeping in tents!! On the floor!! Eating bugs and berries!! Doing poohs in ditches and wiping my arse on leaves!!! What on earth does one pack for such a trip!!

We decide that instead of taking both our packs that we shall put everything we need in one bag. I hate carrying things. Once the bag is packed it weighs a ton. This is gonna be fun walking around with that on me back. Ad pulls everything out of the bag to check that we only have the bare essentials. Cheek!! Apparently I have to leave behind my sparkly boob-tubes, leopard print off the shoulder number,4 pairs of stilettos, hair straighteners, make-up bag and curling tongs!! How on earth am I going to survive.


Sometimes I feel like Princess Diana. There are three of us in this relationship. Me, Adrian and the Camera. I have come to refer to her as Camilla. Camilla gets to go on the hike all wrapped up in her own little comfy bag whilst I have to lug around a backpack the size of Ireland on my poor burdened shoulders. Oh the humiliation.

Day one and we catch a the bus to the National Park. To access the first refugio we firstly cross a lake -on a boat of course not swimming-the colour of which is an outstandingly exquisite turquoise blue. We get our first glimpse of the reason that we are here - the Torres Del Paine mountains. Imposingly grand tombstone-like walls of rock rise threateningly from the surrounding mountain range.

After docking and a quick bite to eat we head off for our first days trek. The path that we are taking is called the W Circuit, basically because the trek goes in a W....makes sense innit. The first day, on the left hand part of the W, is supposed to be a three hour easy hike that leads to Glacier Grey at the tip, and where we shall spend our first night.


Off we go! The first two hundred metres is a piece of piss, strolling along a flat path surrounded by pretty flora, then we hit the first slight uphill path. Half an hour later I'm knackered...fuck me I have another five days of this!! I'm now finding every excuse to stop: I need a drink; my backpack is not sitting right; oh I got an itch; one of my legs feels like its coming lose at the hip! I'm starting to realise that this is not gonna be as easy as I thought. Why do hills have to go up; I much prefer flat hills; I need a fag.

The tracks are well marked but everytime we come to a downhill bit my heart sinks: downhill is always followed by uphill!!. Disconcertingly an 80 year old woman with a back-pack the size of an articulated lorry runs past us like she is out for a gentle jog along Brighton Promenade. Blimey I'm so unfit.

We reach the top of what feels like Mount Everest but in reality is little more than a mole hill when compared to the surrounding mountains. Below us is Largo Grey which stretches towards our final first day destination. We have been walking for about 2 hours and think that we have past the half way point. A little further and we spot our first iceberg. A huge piece of brilliant dazzling blue ice that has detached from the glacier and floating majestically around the lake.

This hike is supposed to be easy. I'd bleedin hate to go on a hard one!! After a constant uphill walk of another hour we reach a peak where we see, in the distance, the glacier. Yipee cant be far now. Two hours later and we still havent reached the end. My legs are killing me and because most of the walk is through wooded areas we aint seeing much really either.

After scrambling down what to me is a sheer cliff face for another three-quarters of an hour we finally reach the refugio. The gently three hour walk has taken us over five hours and the thought that we have to make the trek all the way back in the morning makes me want to eat chocolate and ice cream until I'm sick. Fortunately, because we are renting all the camping equipment from each refugio, the tent is already set up for us, so at least we dont have to contend with all that shit.

The refugio is situated right on Largo Grey and about 10 minutes from a vista of the glacier. After ten minutes rest we set off to have a peak. The weather is not too great and the view is good but could be better in good light. At one side of the glacier is a smaller lake where hundreds of pieces of ice have broken away and congregated at the lakes edge. Ad, ever searching for the perfect photo, clambers down a vertical, shingle and rock strewn precipice, with Camilla on his back, taking his life in his own hands, to snap away at the twisted, slow melting formations that are waiting to be immortalised. The whole lake and glacier is eerily beautiful. It's just a pity that we can't get closer.

Day two. After a fantastic nights sleep on a rock hard floor with just a one inch thick foam mat for comfort I wake up feeling like I've been run over by a steam roller. My legs are hurting and every bone and puny under-developed muscle in my whole body is crying out in pained protest. This is fun. A quick breakfast of bread and water and we begin the arduous journey back the way that we came yesterday. Despite my muscles protesting for the first half an hour the trek back doesnt seem so bad and in an almost perverse way I almost enjoy the walk...sort of like how you can almost enjoy sticking red hot pokers in your eyes!! The journey back takes us another five hours but having left quite early we have most of the afternoon to just lounge by the turquoise lake and wander on some little half hour treks taking in the scenery. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. We have to traverse the whole middle part of the W. It looks like from the map that we have that if we go all the to the top of the middle and return to the bottom of the second 'down stroke' that it should take us about 12 hours!! Fucking hell!!

Day three. We set off early. This is gonna be hard. I`m bleedin knackered. But at least we are gonna be seeing some different things today. Some big fuck-off mountains are rising spectacularly to our left and today we are gonna be circum-navigating their base. Hiking is a funny old thing. I'm not quite sure why people do it. You walk for fucking hours and you are still seeing the same things. Yes of course its nice being out in the countryside but when you are walking through bushes and trees, I'm sorry but it gets a bit boring.

We trudge on relentlessly. Just three days left I tell myself. Up hills and then down hills. The big fuck-off mountains are still there on our left, the vista changing very little as we march forward. Through bushes, through trees. A new lake comes into view. It is all very beautiful but the exertion ratio to what we are actually seeing don't seem to add up to me. Am I missing something about hiking? On a good note, my back seems to have got used to carrying a pack containing six elephants. Ad has a good whinge about the hike and I pretend that I'm enjoying it more than I really am. It makes a change for me not to be the one complaining all the time.

After three hours of walking we get to the bottom of the middle of the W. We arrive at a camp ground where we are able to leave our packs before setting off up the middle. This path takes you up a valley between mountains. The going is steep and we find ourselves climbing over rocks and boulders, up steep mud hills and through thick trees. The trail is supposed to be five hours there and five back. The weather is shit up the valley and visibility isn't great. We have a glacier adorned mountain to our left which is very spectacular but ahead of us all we can see are a few gigantic shadows covered by rain clouds. This climb is tough. Not only do we have ten hours of this to look forward to but when we get back we have another 3 hours to our final resting place. I aint happy. This seems like putting ourselves through physical hell just to prove that you can. We soldier on, constantly climbing up 45 degree hills. Gee this is fun. After an hour and a half we reach a plateau. Its freezing and starts to rain. The end of the valley is another three hours at least, but looking torwards it we can see nothing. I have a face like a smacked arse and am in a right huff. This aint my idea of a nice time. It may be different if we could see whats ahead, but we cant. We have a conference and decide that it just aint worth carrying on up the middle. Thank big Jesus with the beard!! Hooray. (Ad has just told me that as he remembers it the view up the valley was clearing when we got to the plateau...thats not my recollection but then again maybe it was the clouds of dispair, tiredness and boredom that I was seeing.)


We turn around and head back down the valley, which again is not easy. At the base we pick up our packs and head off on the third leg of this marathon day. Two more hours of walking basically seeing the same things up hill down hill and back fucking up again, we arrive at a new lake and the path takes us down to a small beach. The lake is lovely and if only it was not absolutely freezing, being glacier fed, I would have plunged straight in. On the opposite side of the lake gorgeous undulating hills covered in a deep rich coating of velvetine-like vegetation bring a welcome new sight. A further half an hour and we reach our refugio. However when we go to book in, they haven't received our reservation! Bollocks. After a bit of misunderstanding they guy leads us to the only tent they have available. Wow how fantastic. After wanting to strangle the refugio man, I now wnat to kiss him. The tent we have looks like it is usually used by the staff. It has a proper mattress!! And is situated in the most beautiful location, right by a huge gushing river, isolated from the rest of the camp, this is just fantastic. It is like having our own little piece of paradise.

Ushuaia and the End of the World

Getting to Ushuaia was a bit of a mission. We had to take a eighteen hour bus and then another twelve hour bus as well has having to cross Chile to get to it. On the back of the bus, we had a group of past it Argentinian-rocker-hippies who decided too sing and shout loudly for most of the journey. A, brave, Swedish girl decided to shout "Silencio, por favour!" and their response was to shout about her not being Argentinian and then became even louder than before. The landscape for most of the journey, is barren and quite boring while the winds are a force to be reckoned with. Only within an hour of getting to Ushuaia do you start to see mountains appearing. We got there as the sun was setting and it was very beautiful among the valleys.

One of the main reasons for simply being in Ushuaia is to be at the bottom of the world as it´s the southernmost city in the world. The city itself is industrial and not that pretty but the surrounding countryside is simply, beautiful. The climate is very changeable and a bit like England in the spring or summer. Our days were spent simply driving around, enjoying the countryside, especially when the sun was out. We took a chair lift up to a glacier, Colin doesn´t like chair lifts and was screaming like a girl the whole way up as well as keeping his eyes shut, "Adrian, it´s too high, I don`t like it", "Adrian, it`s swinging too much". Yeah right! The glacier was retreating rapidly so, there wasn´t much of it but the scenery and view of Ushuaia and the Beagle Channel was beautiful.















Afterwards, we visited a national park, Tierra del Fuego, named after the island we were situated on which is the largest in South America. The national park is full of lakes and mountains and had lots of good, short little walks around the coastline and the lakes themselves. Driving around, a lot or most of the mountains are still covered in snow and wildflowers had started to grow. Annoyingly, on the occasions when we bothered to get for sunrise, the weather was terrible. We stayed in a nice hotel and had a kitchen almost to ourselves so we cooked spicy food which is difficult to find in Argentina. Eating out and drinking out here is pretty expensive, so we used the kitchen in the hotel as much as possible and in the evenings, relaxed with a nice bottle of wine.