I'M IN SANTIAGO! Still.

Continuing where I left off last time - I was in the Land of the Fire with my good friend Dorit the German. Staying with Carlos - a couchsurfing host from northern Argentina. After our exciting day of penguin spotting we decided to hire mountain bikes and ride to Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego on the Sunday. Carlos said if we went early enough we could sneak in with out paying the pricey fees; so that's what we did. Local knowledge can be a real bonus sometimes. Starting at 6am we cycled the 12km in the cold morning air. Pretty sunrise; hard to appreciate when it feels like your hands are about to fall off. It was tough going at some points, but we made it through by about 7.30. Arriving at a pristine and still lake (actually I think it was the sea channel?), alone for miles around, complete silence apart from birdsong; definately worth getting up early. We stashed our bikes and headed out on a trail along the shore. It was incredibley beautiful. Not as 'end-of-the-worldly' as one would imagine (in summer it can look alot like scotland), still gorgeous. The day was perfect, not a cloud in the sky, and as we were still recovering from T del P we took several blissful naps in the sunshine. By the end of the afternoon the park was really crowded with tourists and locals alike enjoying the rare weather. The Weather down here can change as quickly as Clark Kent into Superman, and just as converse. As we discovered in Patagonia it really can be all four seasons in one day... Scrap that, one HOUR. People say this of Melbourne... they havn't been to Patagonia. We ate some tasty Pan de Inde - an edible mushroom that tastes like bread dough - hence the name Indian Bread. Bear Grylls did it, so can we. Although I would not recommend consuming wild mushrooms any old place. A long, dusty and tiresome bike ride home saw us back to Ushuaia for a 'last supper' together in the Irish pub before I took my flight the next day to Santiago de Chile...

ME AND MY BACKPACK

Before we get into possibly the worst 24 hours of my entire trip... a light aside on my luggage and I. After trekking around for weeks it felt like I would need surgery to remove my beloved green Karrimor Panther 65L from my back. What's more, I didn't want it removing. Me and K.P. have formed a relationship somewhat akin to marriage (in my mind... which is an odd place to be at times). We have our good days; when we merrily wander along, sharing the joys of travelling. We have our bad days; when, quite frankly, we can't stand the sight of each other. We sleep next to each other at night, we lean on each other at long waits in bus stations. I become worrysome when were are separated. I get defensive if people don't treat K.P. with respect; which it deserves - I have had this backpack since my Dad bought it for my Gold DofE expedition. I was 17. That was nearly 9 years ago. So you see we have had a long and durable relationship. We've been through a lot together. I'm currently having a lot trouble thinking about how we are going to cope back at home, when it's time to unpack and put K.P. back under the bed. Scary. My other major relationship has been with my walking boots. They have a sporadic squeak. It can drive me to distraction; it's like some sort of maniacal mouse is following me around. Haunted by demented rodents. After losing yet another pair of flipflops (I think it's double figures by now) I had to wear my boots until suitable replacements could be found. If I sound like I'm starting to lose more than a few marbles - fear not! All will be become as clear as a patagonian lake (not the cloudy glacial ones...).

TRAVEL DOOMSDAY

Saying bye to Dorit and heading out to Ushuaia airport... I had a horrible sinking feeling. I put it down to leaving a very good friend; heading out on my own again after so long with good company; and having to pluck up new enthusiasm for the journey ahead when I felt like I had already reached my goal in Tierra del Fuego. I now look back at this odd mood as a forewarning from the God of travelling. So, I'm not going to drag it out. It's as painful to recall for me as it is for you to read believe me. A) After spending my precious last Arg. pesos there was an unexpected 'leaving Arg. fee'. ATM. Bummer. B) Aerolineas Argentinas (my least favourite airline currently) had changed my flight without telling me. Well, they told me the time had changed, NOT that the airport we were flying to had changed. Buenos Aires has two airports. Bummer number two. C) Expensive and rushed transfer to other BA airport not to miss my connection to Sant. Credit card. D) GOLFlight delayed at Santiago. Full of grumpy Brazilians that had flown from Sao P. E) Arrival at 3am in Santiago. Number of my friend Cris doesn't work. Wait til 6am in airport. Bus to random Metro station to wait for him (no sleep yet) F) Still no way to contact Cris to meet me, no internet anywhere. Bathroom quickly (20p). Then... disaster. I realise I have left my wallet in there, with ALL my credit and debit cards in. I rush back... it's obviously not there. I panic, try to speak spanish to anyone who will listen. It's not there. S#&@. Police report, calls to banks to cancel, internet, eventually Cris comes to my rescue in U. de Chile Metro station at about 10am. 24 hours after I started my journey. Sigh. Mostly I was just FURIOUS at myself for being so careless. What do they say? NEVER keep all your cards together in one place. Afer 7 months of blissfully trouble-free travel, yes, I had become complacent.

THE SILVER LINING

And there always is one (or more)... I had the majority of my cash and passport safe. Just after I left BA Aerolineas all went on strike; I missed that by 12 hours. Cristian and his friend took me on an awesome tour of Santiago and by the end of the day (38 hours straight with no sleep) I felt strangely euphoric and fine about everything. My lovely, lovely friend Cris (who I met on that awesome tour in Singapore over nearly 6 months ago) has put me up with his wonderful family for the past weeks to wait for the new cards to arrive from England. The last, most important, and maybe saddest blessing - I was not in Christchurch, NZ, when the earthquake hit. Neither was I in Santiago exactly one year earlier when an 8.8 earthquake killed hundreds of people. Makes my problems seem pretty trivial doesn't it? That's what I thought.

LA GRINGA IN LA GRANJA

So here I am, an adopted 'Chilena'. I love Santiago. It's a great city, admittedly very European - maybe that's why I feel so comfortable here. Ringed around by towering Cordillera and mountains, it's got impressive vistas, even when the summer haze hangs over it. I'm staying in REAL Santiago - in the 'burbs. La Granja (The Farm - it's not a farm) is where Cris and his family live. The Chileno version of Spanish is mega difficult to understand. I'm getting there now after two weeks, but it's peppered with complex and frankly bizarre colloquilisms and slang. And boy do they speak fast. I've spent a lot of my time frantically trying to understand but really missing the point completely. The silly gringa girl. Gringa/o is what Latin American's call non-latin white people. It's not meant offensively and although I resisted at first I now proudly accept this label as part of my identity. I still look quite different, and get a lot of stares. I stare back. Unless they look dodgy of course. I have been treated so warmly and welcomingly by this family. I can't describe how generous and kind they have been to me to let me stay so long. I have been fed so much and tried so many delicious chilean dishes. Here the day starts with a light breakfast of bread and milk (I don't usually make it out of bed for this one...oops), then a big meal at 2pmish, then later on around 8 pr 9 everyone shares 'Once' (on-say), which means 11. It's usually something light like bread and eggs or cheese. Sometimes hotdogs (not 'Panchos' here but 'Completos' with yummy advocado!)and lots of tea and coffee. Elevenses for the evening! This also means that I'm usually wired off caffiene all night but heyho! It's a quiet life most of the time, which I appreciate after so long travelling. Can't say it hasn't made me think about home a lot, but I've got used to it. Also went to a roof-top pool party and learnt how to dance like a real chilena (it's all the hips!), been to some scarily Meadowhall-esque shopping centres, a great day out with all the family to a themepark 'Fantaslandia' and gone to see some films too. It's surreally like normal life. In Spanish. On the buses men get on selling plasters, chocolate and ice cream! Amazing. I'm getting there with the language. Cris's brother has decided I'm a gift from god sent to him to translate the bible into English. I find this highly amusing, but it's really good practice too. I play video games and in the pool with his newphew Bastian, and adore his gorgeous one-year-old neice Alondra. Just as I thought my luck had run out I have found myself once again the luckiest girl in the world. I have no idea how to even begin to show my gratitude to these amazing people. I hope I will find a way.

For now I wait. Every morning I listen for the sound of the postman. When I get my cards it will be off northwards to continue my journey, which is feeling ever-so-slightly like I'm already making my way slowly home...

All my love chicos

Ellie