The End of South America

Hi-di-hi,


Oh dear. I think I may have jinxed myself with that last blog entry. I did indeed hit the slopes of Bariloche, and did indeed accordingly injure myself spectacularly while trying new sports, just as predicted. It's such a pity because it all started so well. Day one - Valerie the Argentinian and I had some amusing first lessons, falling over and causing general havoc on the beautiful white mountains of Catedral by bumping 'accidentally' into various good looking skiers, requesting politely to be aided to our feet and flashing winning smiles as we skied elegantly away (yeah, right!). Day two - I had a fantastic morning and most-part of afternoon testing out my new-found favourite sport, progressing from the green easy trails to the blue intermediate trails with ease and having an adrenaline-packed time stumbling gracefully down the pistes. Until, that is, disaster struck in the shape of bad visibility (it was snowing), me going one way, my skis going another, and my left knee making a break for freedom in a completely opposite direction. This all necessitated a pair of rather lovely Argetinian paramedics to come dashing to my rescue, and the whole day ended excitingly with me being carried down the mountain-side in a stretcher. Hmmm...

Despite the fact that the ski injury resulted in me having to change my plans quite considerably (not going south to the glaciers and to hike in Southern Chile, but staying in Bariloche for 10 days to nurse the knee), this turned out not to be such a bad thing after all. Thanks to the indomitably good company of Will and Pete, and the newly acquired friendship from my Bariloche Boys, Skylar and Adrian, I rather liked my untimely convalescence. I got to watch some DVDs, finally get to see Borat (whose catch phrases have now become part of my everyday vocabulary), get facturas filled with delicious dulce de leche bought for me by considerate companions, immerse myself in hostel culture (including a rather dubious dinner each evening), drink inadvisable quantities of fine, cheap Argentinian wine and test out some more of Bariloche's famous chocolate. It's a hard life! I did also, I should add, get out on a few trips once I could walk again. These included a horse riding expedition on Pampa, my sure-footed mare, up a mountain side, from which I saw some of the most spectacular lake and mountain views conceivable and bigged up my gaucha (female cowboy) status in true Latin American style (i.e. with a sultry smile and sexy side-kick). I chilled out with some Germans by the lake side, went on some light hikes to black glaciers. I managed a trip to Isla Victoria as well, where the obscenely gorgeous views were only marred slightly by the excessively commercialised boat-ride there. I even got to see some giant sequoia redwoods there which have been introduced from California. Bizarre! Reminded me of Yosemite, though - my favourite place in the whole wide world - and made me want to go back there badly.

It wasn't all chilling out in Bariloche though, learning to gamble through Texas Holdup and perfecting various other vices (don't worry Grandma - nothing too serious and nothing imprisonable) - I also went to nearby El Bolson for a day with Skylar the Californian rafting guide and Adrian the Ozzie exceedingly un-mathmo-ish mathmo. Whatthe Lonely Planet promised to be a hippy-loving, artisanal craft-fair filled, while-food loving beer-fest with a happening vibe actually turned out to be nothing too special. A few crafts here and there and a band in the main square was about all it summed up to and the bus breaking down by a picturesque mountain lake turned out the be the day's highlight! Still, a hotfooted return to Bariloche saw some more high-style fun and frolics (well, drinks in the bar and a visit to the Irish bar Wilkenny's and reggae club) and a return to some friends I met in BA, Katy and Laura. So not a bad way for things to turn out really. And a very welcome break to be able to spend time in one place and get to know some people and the town properly. Plus, it was warm. Argentina's massive gas reserves mean that all indoor places in southern cold climates are roasty as a toasty thing on a fire. Nice.

After Bariloche I headed straight up to Mendoza. A rather inspiring bus journey, through Mars-like red-rock landscape, watching a husky, dusty red sunset seep behind dusky mountains lit by a full moon looming whistfully above led me right to the heart of Argentina's biggest wine producing area. Accordingly, the first activity continued in the vein of my Bariloche exploits with me sampling the delights of the vine in various Mendoza wineries. With excellent wine, excellent company from Clare, Adam, Caiore and Jim, and an excellent chocolate factory visit to end the day, the first excursion was, well, excellent. The following day was yet more excellent, however, with a paragliding trip over the Andes. It was mindblowing. To see the mountains from a bird's eye perspective was exhilarating to say the least. There are definitely not enough mountains in the UK...I am currently masterminding my move (in later life) to somewhere more beautiful and mountain and river filled where I can do fun stuff and not be stuck in an office from 9-5 (pr 9-9 as I'm sure Deloitte will conjole me into enduring). Watch this space. I'll put up pictures soon and you'll see exactly what I mean :-)

Anyway - Mendoza was the last visit in Argentina, and the last bit of solo-travelling I would do in South America. Without getting all soppy and 'deep', I can honestly say that travelling on my own has been one of the best experiences yet. I met kinds of people I thought I would never meet, got taught stuff I never even knew I needed to know, landed in some unique life situations my life so far had no way of affording me...and all of it has been seriously challenging but in the best possible way. I'm definitely digging the travelling vibe (yeah, man...) Hmmm....sort of.

Last stop in South America was Chile, and the most mind-blowingly scenic bus journey to get there ever, ever, ever. Mountains, and more mountains, and snow, and more snow and mountains covered in snow...pictures to follow. I spent a day in vibrant Valparaiso with Pete and some friends from Buenos Aires, being aided at every turn by the exceptionally helpful and talkative Chileans, the best of whom was undoubtedly Juan, who befriended us in a bar and drunkenly chatted to us about how good friends Chile and England were for at least, oh, 4 hours! The next couple of days were spent enjoying Santiago with picnics and park-visits, rounding off the trip to South America. And now, dearest readers, if you are still reading by this point, I am, after a 13 hour flight and losing the whole of October 2nd through time-difference, sitting in Auckland, New Zealand...

...and the story will continue...soon...

love for now - Helen xxx

PS - drop a note on this if you've read it. Or drop me an email. I don't really mind talking to myself (in fact it's pretty usual really), but it would be nice to know...