May 08

Dear diario,

I have to pack my backpack and leave Rio. Obviously I'm dead excited about where I'm off to, but still I'm sad. Thiago takes me out for a nice lunch and then we head back to the flat to play with his new toy. An Apple tower power mac thing with bells and whistles. I'm glad he has a new toy to amuse himself and take away the thought of me going (he's obviously devastated that I'm off??!). We say goodbyes and then he has to go. I'm left there in his flat all alone. I pack up, and have to throw the key back into the flat once I’ve locked the door from the outside. I panic that I’ve left something behind and now can't get back in... I realise later, I did; my heart.

Into a taxi and off to the airport. A flight to Bolivia on Gol airways, very luxurious. A ridiculous flight which stops three times before I reach Bolivia. Santa Cruz to be exact. Not even sure exactly where it is. I arrive rather wearily at 3am and get another taxi (paid in US dollars) to Jodanga hostel. Where I hope Vikki and Danny are staying, although there was still no word from them before I left. I get there and luckily get a bed. Top bunk, in an 8 bed dorm with some American girls, who get up really early and are really noisy. I haven't really slept anyway due to the shock of being on the road again and sharing a dorm room with lots of bodies and being bloody
cold too. I’ve gone from balmy Rio to fucking freezing. I drag myself out of bed at about 9am and try to find D and V. They are here! It's nice and sunny out in the day here, so the temp is pleasant. We sort ourselves out. Deciding to leave for Sucre that evening in the 16.30 bus. Then off for some lunch, Irish stew and dumplings?! Bolivia is weird. We grab our bags back at the hostel and get going.

Our first Bolivian bus journey is OK, but the bus is dirty and old. Anything you touch is covered in a thick layer of dust. I sit next to Vikki at the back. The bus stops in the dead of night for a wee pause. We bundle off and are welcomed by a dirty, smelly non loo with no paper and no sink. Back on the bus and I sit there for a while awake. We're high up on some mountain pass and the bus is rocking from side to side rather graphically, it's pitch black and a trippy experience.

We arrive in Sucre early and it's freezing again. Until the sun is fully out and blazing, Bolivia is damn cold. We find a hostel where there are two free rooms, Vikki and I share, and it’s the first night she's spent apart from Danny in 9 months! We put on some extra layers and head off to a cafe for some grub. I fancy a lager (?), but am told its too early (10.30am). We all order chili con carne, because of bus lag we're not really sure what time it is, and tummies do the choosing. Delicious. At 12 I'm allowed a lager. Sucre is a beautiful town and is called Ciudad Blanca because all the colonial buildings in its center are painted white. We enjoy a nice afternoon chilling and mooching about. It’s in Sucre that I'm introduced to my new obsession: all things knitted. Oh my god... gloves, hats, scarves, blankets, it’s all amazing and beautiful. When we return to the hostel later and discover that there is no agua calliente (hot water), I'm glad for my new hat and scarf and gloves. Vikki and I bed down for a freezing night. The boys are watching football in the morning so it’s up early and to the cafe again for the TV. It’s also now decided that we will head to Potosi next and then straight on the Uyuni to see the salt flats. There is another football match (champions league, man u or and earlier one???) on the following Sunday, and we will need to be back form the salt flats before that. Our next week is therefore planned around football (I mention this now because of a situation later). It's is our intention to jump in a cab for the four hour journey to Potosi. We are now six as we have met up with Clare and Sean, so we might be able to afford it. We leisurely head toward to bus station in the early afternoon to see about a fare. As soon as we jump out of the cab taking us there, we are accosted by a very indigent woman who is keen to get us on her bus. As soon as she has the whiff of us wanting to go to Potosi she's dangled the carrot with costs and journey time being halved. We can’t really say no. Within about 10 mins we're all sitting on her bus bound for Potosi. We soon realize that: A, she was a big fat liar, and: B, you get what you pay for. We have a clapped out bus (which breaks down), we have the back seat (which means it’s like being on the big dipper), and the bus is filthy and smells like spring onions for seven hours!! We bond over how much we hate it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I’ve never been so happy to get off a bus. I feel high, actually that'll be because Potosi is 4070m above sea level. We're all exhausted, dirty, and now we can’t breathe. Danny and Tommy head to a food stand they saw up the hill to buy us all a chip butty. Our first choice of hostel is full so we find another and end up in a 70s suite attic room. Its freezing and everything you do renders you breathless, but we're glad to be together and after a few games of the shithead league (we've got a league book and everything). We head to bed, for a completely sleepless night.

I get up knackered and we head off to catch a bus to Uyuni. We go to the bus station and barter with a woman about a bus. Again promises of speed and comfort are realised later to be fibs. Another painful journey, this time so dusty that we all feel like we have asthma the following day. We arrive in Uyuni very late hoping that we can still book a salt flat tour for the following day. Luckily some tour agents as are still open. So for 80 USD we get a 3 night, 4 day tour with all expenses paid for (not bad). Were also shown to a hotel which we're promised has agua calliente. Its freezing in Uyuni which is a little like a ghost town, I keep expecting to see tumble weed blowing though it. We go out for a dinner in a freezing restaurant; I'm now so cold to bone that it would take a miracle (and an electric blanket) to warm me up. Our hotel may have hot water but it certainly doesn't have heating. Vikki and I have a room at the front of the hotel which has a massive window to the road, i.e. no insulation. I put my icicle body into bed and have another freezing night where I don't sleep, because I'm shivering the whole time. I wake up and have gone blue. Finally after some brekkie, we're in the land cruiser, our home for the next four days. Pedro is the driver and Jacqueline his wife the cook. They don't speak any English and and our Spanish is crap, how will this work??

The salt flats (flat, one massive dried up lake) is incredible. It's like being on mars or the moon. The lunar landscapes, the blazing sun, the freezing nights. It's another world. Hard on the body though, and my ingrained tan which had been intensified while in Rio, literally sees the salt and dry air and jumps off my skin. I have crocodile skin legs and cracked sore lips. But my hair is straight again! It’s the best thing ever; I can’t believe how frizzy it gets in Brazil. The first day is spent taking silly shots on the salt (see facebook) we even manage a mini rave outside the land cruiser which is videoed by Perdo who thinks were all totally crazy. We stay the night at a salt hotel on the edge of the flats. Danny tells us the story of the fart tape. This is a Dictaphone kept on the mantle piece at his flat. Every time you need to fart you go to the Dictaphone and start recording: you say your name, the time and the date and then fart into the micro phone. Between fits of giggles and more silly stories including Tommy's dog who accidentally eats leftover vindlaoo and ends up projectile pooing all over the curtains. We eavesdrop on another table next to us. They're all discussing the American elections and the different merits and problems with the different opponents, we're giggling about farts and poo. Will I ever grow up? (Don’t answer that). We have to brush teeth with bottled water as there are no taps. Clare is about to take a swig when she notices what looks like an ear plug floating in the water?! We
have another fit of giggles and gag, earplug?? It’s not an earplug but Sean's malaria tablet which obviously didn't get swallowed. We head to bed. I wake with a stiff back and a mouth like the salt flats. After brekkie we pack up the cruiser and head off to see more spectacular scenery. We see some live volcanoes and Fish Island which is covered in cool cacti and has fossilized coral reefs. Bolivia gets stranger by the day. We end up at another hostel in the evening, and slightly warmer night, but still very cold. The next day we stop for lunch next to a green lake with red soil. The girls all go for a wee, and due to adverse wind conditions (don't want our wee blowing onto us) we have to moonie the boys. Luckily no one has a camera with a good zoom lens. Our last night on the salt flats is at yet another hostel in another strange deserted cluster of
buildings, which obviously rely solely on the tourist industry. This is the coldest night yet (-10) and after dinner Tommy and I go outside star gazing. We're at 5000m above sea level and the stars in the sky go from horizon to horizon. There is not one bit of sky that's un-glittery. I'm spellbound, no star struck. I count three shooting stars and make three wishes. We turn in for the night. We're all in one room again and I fall asleep chucking about Danny's brothers band called DAMP (the P is for Paul), Sean's rap ballad he's made on the music player on his mobile and the rats or mice running about outside our window. I wake at 4.30am with great difficulty, I'm cocooned. I get up, dress and wait for the others to stir. They're all still in bed and take an age to creep into action. Finally we're all packed up and sitting in the landy. We set off in the dark and because the front window is steamed up and Pedro can't really see, he drives over a large meteor like rock. The car is wedged on it. We all have to get out and wait while another land cruiser tries to push us off it bumper to bumper. That doesn't work,
so Pedro has to jack the car up. It's dark and freezing and we do star jumps to keep warm. The car finally moves and we're free. Off we go towards flamingos and hot springs. We're looking forward to the hot springs, as none of us has had a shower for three days. We see some flamingos, albeit miles away (tiny ones!). Then straight to the hot springs which we jump into. Bliss and rather smelly (sulphur). We meet some fellow gringos in the pool with beards, god I hate traveler beards. Danny and Tommy get out first and head to the breakfast hut. We've been told its mesa 4 (table 4). I join them after about 10 mins...I'm just pouring myself some coffee when I see a crazed looking Boliviano woman hurtling towards me with murder in her eyes. She is going mental at us. I look up and see "mesa 9" written on the sign above the table. We're on the wrong table. T and D have already eaten half the pancakes in front of them and drunken most or the yogurt drink. Honestly though, you've never seen anything like it, they go completely ballistic. The first Boliviano woman gets others involved, and there are literally plaits and plait tassels flying, and big skits being hiked up, it's all so dramatic. It's like watching a panto. As Vikki and I try to placate them, by suggesting that all we need do is swap our breakfast pancakes for the eaten ones etc. T and D are oblivious, and continue to eat the wrong breakfast, its so hard not to laugh. But they've started so they might as well finish. This sends the women into near epileptic levels... After it's all over (we simply swap the pancakes and yogurt drink from our table)...we sit at mesa 4 and marvel at what just occurred. Incredible, Bolivia is bonkers. I think we've been banished from the hot springs forever, but I'm not sure, because my Spanish is crap. Back in the landy and off to the bubbling lava geysers. Then finally a five hour drive home back to Uyuni.

It's good to back to civilization and even better to go out for delicious pizza. It’s been speculated I could be the best pizza I ever had? I awake in the morning and try to charge my ipod for the upcoming journey to La Paz. There doesn't seem to be any power. In fact it transpires that there is no power anywhere in Uyuni. Therefore NO TV OR CABLE. Therefore NO FOOTBALL! The boys are inconsolable. I think it's quite funny, the whole trip has been planned around this bloody match and now we cant see it!...We all sit in a cafe, it's 10am on Sunday the match has started and there's still no power. We wait and age for a breakfast to appear, cooked on a gas stove apparently?...It comes in dribs and drabs and doesn't come at all in some cases. The cafe also seems to be staffed by children, all very odd. Then finally at half time, the TV miraculously turns on! We're saved; there is mass rejoicing and mass elation. The games on and the boys are happy, so I'm also happy. On Monday morning with rather sore heads (must still be the altitude?!) we leave Uyuni and head to Potosi again.

The Hair Report - Mostly flat, some undulation below, dry ends.

Hats placed precariously.
Wotsits (big Bolivian ones)
Tangerines.
Nearly break leg in loo (hidden step).
Llama lunch.
Alan "yeah" after every sentence.
Too much funky house on Ipod.
The mummies, what’s the story??! (We’ll never know)
Double funny (it’s so funny its Double Funny)

xxx

Ps sorry it's late; a dog ate the first draught...

The flight to Rio is very good. I sit next to a Korean Business man who listens avidly to my stories about my trip so far. He's very nice and invites me to dinner if I ever get to Lima. The plane lands in Rio and I make my way through customs. It's strange being back and recognising it all from when I landed here with M back in January. We were so excited and full anticipation for our trip! What a great feeling and what a great trip! (I'm sure M concurs:-). Once through I get the shuttle bus to Flamengo and Thiago's place. I tell the bus driver in broken Portuguese where I need to be dropped. The bus leaves the airport and slowly winds it's way through Rio towards the beaches and Zona Sul.There are some gringos fresh off the plane from Blighty who ask me my advice about Rio. They're petrified of it! I explain that it can be dangerous like any capital city. But as long as they're careful and keep they're whits about them, don't walk on the beaches at night, and don't band around the camera or Ipod, they should be fine. Zona Sul is also a lot safer that other neighbourhoods. I remember how scared M and I were. The bus drops me on Botafogo Praia and I jump in a cab to Thiago's. It's only round the corner, but just to be safe. It's about 9ish when I'm finally sitting in the flat having gotten the key from the doorman. I chill out, unpack and wait for Thiago.

The purpose of my stay in Rio is because I love it. It reminds me of San Diego and living there and loving the heat and the beach. Jumping out of bed every morning when the sun is shining and you don't have to worry about freezing when you get out the shower or generally is pure bliss, my kinda place. Rio is so beautiful, it's setting is stupendous, and the visual feast you get breathtaking. It makes me feel alive. OK you get the idea...

After a few days of acclimatisation, getting used to Rio and Thiago. I try to find a Portuguese course for two or three weeks, which is in budget. They're all very expensive. I finaly find one which starts on the Monday of the following week (nice B'day pressie from M and D, thank you!) That gives me a week to reinstate the tan (!) and explore Thiago's Rio. He take me to some great foody places, including a quilo place next door to him. Wholesome fresh food from a buffet which you pile onto your plate and weigh at the end, and cheap enough to make it worth while. I'm so glad to be back in Brazil and eating good food. I really missed it throughout Argentina and Chile. The fruit and veg in Brazil are plentiful as are the juice bars on every corner. Thiago works quite crazy hours so I spend a lot of time doing my own thing and visiting shops and places I'd like to research. The beach is also there beckoning. On Thursday eve there is a Samba bar open in Lapa where I meet some of Thiago's friends. My non Portuguese is very apparent, as is their non English. I have a fustrating (but OK!) evening speaking sort of Spanish / French - with an accent. I find Portuguese so difficult to understand. Usually I find I can imitate an accent for a language quite easily, like French or Spanish. Portuguese though is entirely another matter. Even when I think I'm saying what I hear, and imitating it, I'm not understood.

On Saturday I'm excited to be taken to Morro do Alemao, The German Hill, which is a favela in the northern suburbs of Rio, the land was once owned by a German. There is a street festival going on with lots of graffiti artists working on the streets. Thiago and his friends will be filming the artists and the street party throughout the afternoon. It's sobering to be in a favela with Brazilians and seeing it from this perspective (instead of the gringo tour I did before). Although the favelas are run by drug lords, you quickly realise that most people here try to live normal lives. Going to work or going to school, but in the poverty and essentially the 'war zone' of the favela. The festivities and the fact the drug lords and their cohorts have been warned about our presence, mean we are given a Carte Blanche to photo and walk around freely. The Federal Police and their AK 47's at the end of every road is a reminder that things are not really OK, in fact far from it... This is what these people have to live with every day. At one point we see the drug lord himself on a street corner with his henchmen, he looks about 18. It's paradoxical that this is literally 200 m from the Federal Police blockade. At no point however do I feel threatened or un safe, Thiago and his friends have been here before and know the ropes. The fact that the drug lord is there is safer for us. Children follow us about and are fascinated by our cameras. There is so much life and soul and a sense of community there, something I don't think Ive ever seen anywhere else. I'm very lucky to have been there and participated in the day. In the evening we head down to Cine Lapa and a really cool evening of soul and funk. We dance into the early hours. At the end of the eve I politely offer to escort a drunken girlfriend of one of Thiago's friends to the loo. Where she blatantly comes on to me and tries to snog me!? I like men, sorry!

Vikki and Danny have facebooked me to tell me they will be in Rio the following week. I'm looking forward to seeing them. I start my course on the Tuesday, I tell you its hard getting up at 8.30 for well, school!? Class finishes at lunch so I can still head to the beach after. I meet Danny and Vikki on Ipanema and we all marvel at the spectacle, it's incredible people watching. We try to meet up in Lapa on the following Friday but don't manage it, Lapa on a Friday night is insane. We end up at Fundicao Progresso to see Afrika Bambata. Lots of fun. Vikki and Danny head over to Flamengo the next day to meet us and see the David Lachapelle expo. Thiago takes us for some Lebanese afterwards.

Next day we head to the football at the Maracana. Amazing. Flamengo against Botafogo. We spend all day drinking and end up at a street part in Santa Theresa. I meet Neil and Justine who tell us about visiting San Pedro prison in Bolivia, we all take notes...(wait for La Paz chapter)

My favorite district in Rio is Santa Theresa. It was once one of the most opulent neighbourhoods in Rio (till the beaches were developed). It's in the hills and is full of crumbling old colonial houses and winding leafy lanes. It's beautiful. One evening we go to a house party in an amazing house which is basically someones home. All their possessions are there, pictures on sideboards, toiletries in the bathroom...but they rent out the house for parties. Obviously the clientele are in the know and it's invitation only, but still it's strange. I fall in love with the house and Rio all over again. It's the coolest venue for a party I've ever been to. I want a house in Sante Theresa, I want THAT house. I think about Brissy and her letting us party in her house for new year (she was away!). Who does that??? She was so happy about the reports from that party. We partied like it was 1999, including muddy footprints on the new white carpet, 8 people in her bed and the mouldy burgers in the oven (which we discoverd whilst trying to cook) and Bill's lethal cocktails. A damn fine party and Brissy was very happy we'd had such a good'n.

My course is going OK and I enjoy living in a flat and not being in a hostel. We decide to hire a car the following weekend to take us up the coast to Macae and Buzios. Vito's parents have a house there where we can stay and there is a birthday party to go to. A good party except for when it's pointed out I have my skirt tucked into my knickers. On the way home we stop in Buzios v cool, and head to Pacha. The super club is beautifully designed, but the music beautifully atrocious. Thiago drives me home, back to Rio.

I finish my Portuguese course and pass! (86%, how??), although I have to say I still can't speak a lot. I understand most things written down and understand what people are trying to say. I'm much more happy with the pronunciation. I've had a great time in Rio with Thiago, he's been really cool letting me stay and looking after me. His friends have been very friendly and I'm really sad to be leaving Rio after this month of pretending to be a Carioca. I've explored all the districts in Zona Zul, Flamengo, Botofogo, Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon. Ive found cool shops, cool restaurants, great beaches. I still love Santa Theresa most of all. I love the street of lady boys in Gloria (only to be viewed by taxi). The craziness of Lapa and the whole place really...what can I say apart from I'll be back...

After the football, I get home steaming and have to do my homework at 2am, which I pass!
I have a stab at driving in Rio, successfully.
My Birthday! Thiago makes me breakfast then taken to fab restaurant in Botofogo called Miam Miam. I don't like being older (34 WHAT??)
Mums parcel never arrives (mourning the loss of Helmut Lang perfume)
ACAI ACAI ACAI everyday.
Skype with camera revolutionary, cept I can see Marianne's in MY bed!

Love me xxx

Hello,

Vikki, Danny and myself head to Rio Gallegos on the bus with the intention of me heading down to Tierra del Fuego, and the guys heading up towards Puerto Madryn. We've been warned by the English boys that Rio Gallegos really is quite dire, and quite rightly so. The Footprint guide informs you that there are 'some interesting trees' around the main square. Hmm interesting. We arrive and its late in the afternoon, we hope we can all catch a connection so we don't have to stay in Rio G. Luckily for V and D there is a bus toward Puerta Madryn that evening. Unluckily for me the bus to Ushuaia is in the morning. It looks like I'm staying the night. We book tickets and head into town for some dinner. South American pizza (a pastry base drowning in cheese). On the way back to the bus station D and V drop me at a hostel. It's a very odd hostel, it's basically a persons house with dorms made out of the bedrooms upstairs. It reminds me of the O'Brians house in Sutton Courtenay where I grew up, there seem to be bunk beds in every available nook and cranny (the O'Brian's used to have bunk beds in their lounge). There are also attractive 70´s style throws on the beds in orange towelling with tassels round the edge, with flowery curtains and a shag pile carpet, it's straight out of the Good Life (Margot would be happy). It's already 10ish so I shower and head to bed. In the morning it's an early start and back to the bus station to catch an 18 hour bus to Ushuaia.

Tierra Del Fuego is vast and the sky is the biggest I´ve ever seen. I sit next to a nice french man in is late 60s heading to Antarctica! It sounds amazing and I decide to do it another time when I have more money try $4000!. We get to the Straights of Magellan and I reminisce about school, geography and Mr Pearce. I see some black and white dolphins swimming alongside the boat on the crossing. Its a long trip I realize how although I love to vastness of everything I'm not sure I could live in a place so remote. It really is the end of the earth.

I reach Ushuaia at about 3am and head to the Antarctica hostel. I get a bed in an 8 person dorm. Its the top bunk and the room is full of sleeping persons. I try to be as quiet as possible. Electric toothbrush will have to wait till morning. I spend the night on the most uncomfortable bed ever, its on a slant and whoever is below me starts snoring very loudly. I wake up feeling really groggy and wanting to murder the person below. When I finally get up, hes already moved out. Thank god. So I baggsy the bottom bunk from him. Ushuaia a pretty town on a slope overlooking the Beagle Channel, right at the end of Argentina. I'm exhausted after my trip and night so spend the day snoozing and reading my book.

The next day I decide that I want to head to Rio asap. Ive had this plan brewing for a week or so now. Ive decided to move to Rio for a month and stay with Thiago, whom I met there with M when we were in Rio in January. I'm going to see if I can do a Portuguese course and basically get to know Rio better. I cant stop thinking about it. I'm in love with Rio and am seriously contemplating moving there. So I decide book my bus to Punta Arenas early, change my flight, so that I can get Santiago and then Rio earlier. Booking the ticket takes three hours! Just as I'm about to get my turn with the travel agent, she goes to lunch!! Eventually I get to see her (I meet some cool people in the travel agents whilst waiting) and I book myself onto the early bus to Punta Arenas.

I spend the afternoon visiting sea lions, cormorants and penguins in the Beagle channel. I meet a 22 year old Mexican girl who's already pilot?! I decide I really need to visit Mexico too, it sounds great. Amazing sun set, cute penguins and smelly sea lions. We go out to a restaurant in the evening for some fuegan lamb. Delicious.

5am on a mini bus to Rio Turbio, all a blur and more vastness. I'm at the end of the world and really on my own. The bus is called Marianne but shes miles away in London and I miss her and everyone massively. The journey to Punta Arenas is silly as you have to go through Argentina, then Chile, then Argentina, then Chile. Every time getting off the bus and having your passport stamped. Punta Arenas is similar to Ushuaia and I head to a hostel recommended by Footprint, 'Hostel at the end of the world'. I book in and am shown to a large room with 4 very comfy looking beds with big eiderdowns. God I'm looking forward to bed. It's a really nice hostel and the people who run it are very accommodating. The next day I try to change my flight, but can't. I'm stuck in PA for four days!!! Bollocks. A very sweet American girl moves in called Jill. We hang out for the next fours days eating, sleeping, reading and watching tons of films on the hostel 40inch flat screen (i miss mine!)...Also I have a cold from trekking in the Torres.

Chilean School kids look like they're Japanese. Its spooky. They're really into Manga cartoons and everything Japanese. Their hair, clothes and they even look Oriental. Wish id gotten a photo. I meet up with Marianne's mums cousin John. He takes me for a delicious dinner to the smartest restaurant in PA. He's the father of lovely Angie and Maty in BA and tells me the fascinating story of how he managed to be living in South America and how he loves it. My heart strings are being pulled the whole while...Rio Rio Rio I'm thinking.
Finally after what seems and eternity at the end of the world, its the night before I fly toward Santiago. Although the landscapes are beautiful and space and clean air freely available, I'm glad to be leaving such a remote place. The romance of Chatwins 'In Patagonia' is in the back of my mind, but I realise how I crave life and people and colour and things!! Dare I say civilization?!

I get the the airport with a Spanish boy who shares my taxi. Once through check in and me taking my leatherman through the xray machine accidentally, I spot the Chilean President right in front of me! Chilean security is rather lax it seems. Finally I'm on the fight to Santiago. We fly up over Chile and along the geographical wall the Andes create separating Chile from the rest of the Continent. I see lakes, huge glaciers and mountains. We circle Santiago before we land and you can see the smog and pollution from the city as we do, it looks massive and dirty. Then its into a cab and straight to Barrio Brazil to see Jess. I met Jess with M in Trancoso two months ago. I arrive at her halls of residence, and It so nice to see her. She's very kindly let me stay in her hall of residence room. After a cup of Tescos Finest builders tea, we go out for afternoon ice cream (mmm), and a wander round a really nice arty area of Santiago. Then some beers and a dinner at a great restaurant. We collapse into Jess' bed around 2am rather worse for wear, but having had a really good laugh. I luv Jess and i look forward to seeing her again in June before I fly to Auckland. Jess has a class in the morning so has to leave early. She makes me yummy porridge with almonds and raisins. I pack up my stuff again and head to the airport. Flying is such a luxury on this trip. I feel very special and very lucky! I'm on my flight to Rio and to see Thiago...I cant wait...

The gringo beards in Patagonia, Mr Twit??
Smokey Antarctica Hostel, I hate smoking
The lost knickers
The Antarctica workers with smelly breath (dire)
The PA cemetery, spooky but beautiful
American Gangster (brilliant)
'Cumming' tube station in Santiago
Rio here I come!

xxxxx