Vida en Buenos Aires

Our daily commute with the traffic

Every day we walk the same route. From our hostel to the school in the city it takes about 30 minutes depending on how many pictures we decide to snap on the way. Every morning we encounter the same things; buses that speed dangerously down the narrow streets leaving a trail of exhaust fumes behind them. A moment of slight asphyxiation. Then we are presented with the act of pavement washing. This is excercised by various different shop owners and residents in the neighborhood. We step onto the road to avoid getting our feet wet. At every major intersection the streets are lined with commuters who eagerly await their bus. We step on the road to avoid having to force our way through them. Then suddenly, the path becomes obstructed by dog poo. A pile of rubble. Again, we step off the pavement and onto the road. After the 20 minute assault course through San Telmo we start to mingle our way through the hundreds of other workers who fill the city center. The traffic. The people. It's not surprising that Buenos Aires is the world's 4th noisiest city.* I try hard to resist the street vendors that offer freshly squeezed orange juice, caramelized nuts, assorted pastries or coffee from a man with a flask. Various people can be seen arranging a menagerie of different items on the ground in hope that someone will randomly decide to buy a clock or a pair of socks on their way to work. I notice coffee bars and restaurants start filling with people who arrived early enough to enjoy a breakfast. Then we arrive at school. And like a school kid, I count the minutes until home time.


The buildings in our neighborhood

Ali and I started the 10 day intensive Spanish course at the start of the week. It was strange being back at school and I found learning a new language to be even more difficult than I had anticipated. There is so much to learn in such little time. Hence the word 'intensive'. The course is made up of 4 hours group tuition a day, 5 days a week. It takes 2 weeks (40 hours) to complete just one level. My brain has apparently been inactive for quite some time and it was refusing to get back into gear. Every day I prayed that the information would stay in my head. I had difficulty sleeping at night and would often wake up thinking of random Spanish words. Although I have found it hard, the course is very rewarding. I already feel like I have acomplished quite a bit and we have only been studying for 5 days. I'm looking forward to putting what I have learned into action. Practice makes perfect and there are endless opportuinities in South America. Our course only covers the basics but it's sure to be a huge advantage. It's a nice feeling to be able to speak the local language and communicate more effectively. It enriches the time you spend in a country enormously. I'm also starting to identify words that I hear and see all around me. Words which otherwise would have meant absolutely nothing to me.


The architeture around San Telmo

In the spirit of learning new things, Ali and I also signed ourselves up for a tango lesson yesterday. The phrase "two left feet" springs to mind. We danced with each other and several different partners for an hour just to get a taste of it. I enjoyed watching the instructors dance. They were amazing. So sexy and elegant. It would take a lot of practice for us to perfect what we have learned. I'm not sure if either one of us is passionate enough to continue but it was loads of fun and I really enjoy listening to the music.

*Factoid taken from TimeOut magazine in Buenos Aires. It's also worth noting that the city is the 12th largest in the world and ranks at 142 for being the most expensive (out of the 144 cities used for comparison).

Chile - Argentina

A building in San Telmo

I braced myself trying hard not to touch any part of the cramped interior. I tried to resist the unpredictable forces that kept denying me the luxury of standing straight. Looking through the small narrow window in front of me I watched as the bleak landscape rolled by. Unlike many bus toilets I have had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing, this one somehow inspired me to start writing. I usually start scribbling notes in my dairy when something interesting happens which then triggers a retrospective of events since my last blog entry. I suppose you are wondering what´s so interesting about my moving toilet experience. Nothing really. I can only assume it was inspred by boredom. We had been traveling north accross rural Argentina for over 8 hours and there were absolutely no signs of life except for dotted tufts of bushy grass and the occasional cluster of trees. Nothing. I watched with great concern as the bus stopped to let old women get off and start walking in a direction. A direction which seemed to offer nothing but vast rural plains with an unobstructed horizon. I couldn't help but wonder where on earth they were going.

Our destination was far from rural however. We arrived in Buenos Aires yesterday morning after enduring the 22 hour bus journey from San Martin de los Andes. Yes, 22 hours! We spent two nights in the small town which was just enough time for us to experience the numerous chocolate shops, cafes and woodland trails before heading north to the capital.


Plaza Dorrego


View of San Pedro Telmo from Plaza Dorrego

This morning Ali and I ventured out onto the cobbled streets of San Telmo to see what the neighborhood had instore for us. Just a few blocks away from our hostel is Plaza Dorrego, a small square surrounded by cafes, bars and small antique shops bursting with ornate chandeliers. An obsession it seems. Market stalls and street vendors consumed the remaining space where you could admire the work of local artists or buy anything from bags and books to clothing or even antique firearms. The main attraction of San Telmo however is its obsession with tango and boasts the largest concentration of this culture in Buenos Aires. This explains why we could barely walk a block without watching a street performance or being invited to a show. The streets were filled with the sound of music and the smell of grilled steak. Buenos Aires is famous for parrillas (steak houses) and there is definitely no shortage of them in San Telmo. I don´t think there is anywhere else on earth where you can buy a tenderloin for just over 2 pounds! Everywhere you look there is old European architecture and delapotated mansions. Despite the fact that they have seen better days, the buildings have retained much of their charm and add character to the neighborhood. A subtle yet constant reminder of what Argentina once was.


A building on Avenida Dependencia


Balconies in San Telmo

This afternoon Ali and I walked along the unsightly streets of Boca to soak up the lively atmosphere. Today was a big day for football fans as the Boca Juniors were playing River Plate. Two teams at the top of their league. It was hard not to notice the excitement and anticipation surrounding the stadium. Swarms of blue and yellow shirts made their way to the stadium chanting slogans while feasting on giant steak sandwiches. Ali purchased a large blue and yellow flag in support of the local team which I then swiftly used as a shield. The neigborhood surrounding the stadium was how shall I say, a bit sketchy, and I found comfort in wearing the flag. It offered much needed protection against mobs of hostile footy fans who may otherwise have been obliged to do abuse us in some way.


Colourful Caminito

After our visit to the football stadium we walked further along the delapotated streets clutching at our valuables. Located just a few blocks away from the stadium was an area called Caminito where we were eager to visit. Just as we neared the area a taxi that was leaving Caminito pulled in and stopped beside us. The driver and the two passengers opened their windows and kindly offered us some advice. "Don't go there, they are throwing things at people and setting off flares". "..and take off your shirt, they are River supporters". The taxi drove away and left us standing on the street corner. I studied the littered streets, old factory buildings and low income housing looking for signs of danger. At that instant I demanded Ali remove her Boca shirt. Despíte the sensible warnings, Ali continued walking in the same direction and announced that she was curious. I confirmed for the record that this was her choice and reluctantly followed her towards the danger zone.

Fortunately the opposing fans were nowhere to be seen and had already entered the stadium. We were left to safely wander around Caminito and admire its colourful surroundings. It's a pleasant area which offers a small concentration of cafes and tango bars. The main attraction seems to be the interesting choice of colours used to paint the buildings.

We ended the day with a steak and a bottle of vino tinto at a local parrilla. I'm looking forward to ending the remainder of our days here in Buenos Aires in a similar fashion.

Volcan Villarrica

View of Volcan Villarrica from Pucón

I awoke this morning to the sound of Ali moaning in disbelief as she repeatedly hit the alarm clock against the wall. She checked her watch and grumbled. It was 6:55am! We were expected to join the rest of the group at 7:00am. We both shot out of bed and did what we could to prepare ourselves for the day ahead. We ran down the streets of Pucon to the tour office where the other members of our group were already geared-up and impatiently awaiting our arrival. Ali and I apologised for the delay and tried to explain the alarm clock situation. They weren't interested. They just wanted to make sure we were given everything we needed for the trip and ready to go when the bus arrives. I checked I had all the right equipment; jacket, Ice Talonz, boots, trousers, helmet and gloves.


Outfit look familiar?

The eight of us climbed aboard the minibus and began our 30 minute drive towards the foot of Volcan Villarrica. I could hardly believe our luck. Today was sunny and clear with not a cloud in the sky. As we drove out of Pucón I could see our challenge in the distance. Volcan Villarrica graciously sloped upwards to a snow capped crater where clouds of steam could be seen rising from within. Of course, there´s a certain element of danger involved in climbing an active volcano but the thought of actually seeing hot molten rock bubble and spit made goose pimples appear on my skin. I couldn't wait to get up there and take a look inside.


One of many breaks throughout the trek

A ski lift carried us as far as it could until we began the 4 hour climb on foot to the crater. It was difficult to say the least and probably the hardest climb I think I've ever endured. The higher we climbed, the steeper the incline. We zig zagged up through the snow with occasional breaks to catch our breath. Every time we stopped to appreciate the view down below it was even more impressive than the last. On our last break before reaching the top I examined the surrounding landscape. I noticed paths of scorched terrain where lava had previously flowed. At this point I was so excited that I had stopped thinking about how tired I was and realised that in just a few more minutes I would finally be at the top. As we neared the crater I could see people sitting on the edge. I remember thinking how strange it was that they were looking away from the hole and not down inside. Surely what lay within would be so amazing that they wouldn't want to take their eyes of it? Why else would you endure 4 hours of insanely difficult climbing other than to see the internal works of an active volcano? It wasn't until I ran towards the crater when I quickly discovered why they weren´t so keen to face it.


The gases around the crater

What I had previously noted as being clouds of steam rising from within, was in fact thick waves of noxious fumes. As I approached the inner edge of the crater I uncontrolably started coughing and curled up in discomfort. The smell was like nothing I've ever smelt before and made my eyes water. It was like acid. I ran back to the opposite edge, away from the smoke. I couldn't believe it. After about five minutes I eventually stopped coughing and decided to walk around a different way where the fumes didn't appear to be so thick. With the collar of my fleece held tightly over my nose and mouth I approached the edge of the crater once again to taker a proper look inside. There was nothing. Just plumes of smoke. I looked for glowing lava but couldn't see any. Apparently the volcano wasn't in the mood to be showing off and I cursed in dismay.


Another view of Volcan Villarrica from Pucón

Fortunately our descent was a lot quicker and surprisingly much more fun. Instead of climbing on the snow we were allowed to slide down it. Fast! One by one our group members swiftly pushed themselves off the edge for an exhilarating ride down to the bottom. After a series of 4 slides we were only a 30 minute walk away from our transport. We descended in only a quarter of the time it took us to climb up!

Anniversary Thoughts

A year of traveling...

The truth is, I hate traveling. I hate everything that should be good about it. I'm tired of meeting new poeple. The same process asking the same questions day after day. No privacy. Even just the thought of having to arrange accomodation every single day for yet another 3 months is more than unsettling. The varying standards of budget accomodation makes comfort an impossible target. I have learnt to stop worrying about such concerns; will it be clean? Will there be hot water in the morning? Boys snoring? Girls arguing? Could my matress be mistaken for a slab of stone? And then there´s the clothing situation. I hate my clothes - or lack of them. It´s difficult for me to let go of my appearance regardless of the environment. Whether I´m riding a horse through the Mongolian outback or drinking coffee at the local cafe in Sydney, I hate not looking my best. Appearance means a lot to me and I can´t stand loosing control. Bad hair cuts, lack of suitable toiletries, the list is endless. The long bus rides. The cramped trains that reek of bad odour. The dissapproving looks from locals that would prefer not to have you in their country. For them, watching travelers lazily stroll around their homeland is like rubbing salt in their wounds. I miss creature comforts. The warmth of a home with all the things that belong to me. I miss eating a drinking the things I like. Trying new food is fun and interesting but when you have nothing else to choose from, 6 weeks of noodle consumption gets a little too much. And socialising with good friends or the affection of a loved one has become a deprived luxury of the past.

So it would be fair to say that traveling, for me, is a huge sacrifice. There are however some redeeming factors which should be reflected upon to help explain why the hell I'm still traveling. As painful as it is, traveling has offered me such a valuable insight to the world we live in. Without this experience I couldn´t tell you the difference between Cambodia or Lao. The characteristics of Chinese vs Japanese. Why the coffee in Vietnam tastes much different than in Italy. Is any of this important? Maybe not. But I am proud to say that this big adventure has enriched my life beyond expectations and in so many ways. It's hard to believe that we've been traveling for over a year. We have done so much in such a short amount of time that I find it difficult to comprehend at times. I suppose it's a well known fact that the more you put into life the more fullfilling it is and we have definitely done a lot throughout the last 12 months. My relationship with Ali has suprisingly remained healthy despite the amount of time we have spent with each other and I honestly don't think I could have traveled with anyone else. We support each other in such a way that is both practical and fun. I look forward to the next part of our trip. South America...

After a few days in Santiago we are going to head south in Chile to a small town called Pucón where we will get our fix of adventurous activities (possibly white water rafting and the likes) before traveling to San Martin de los Andes just across the border in Argentina. From there we will head north to Buenos Aires. Next stop will be Puerto de Iguazu (to visit "the most incredible waterfalls in the world"). We will then cross the border back into Argentina and visit sassy little Santa Fe before drinking our way through the local wineries in Mendoza. This will conveniently bring us back to Santiago so we can visit for a second time before heading north to explore the moon-like landscapes of the Atacama desert. From San Pedro de Atacama we will then travel into Bolivia where our first highlight will be the salt plains around Uyuni. Next stop La Paz, followed by Copacabana to explore the infamous and magical Lake Titicaca. From Copacabana we'll head straight to Cuzco on the 17th May where we'll have just over two days to adjust to the altitude before embarking on our eagerly awaited Machu Picchu 3-day trek. Onwards from Cuzco to Nazca, Huacachina (for a bit of sand surfing) then continue north to Lima and beyond...a skip jump through Ecuador to explore Colombia then finally Venezuela. At least that's the plan right now. Who knows what the next three months have in store for us. I suggest you stay tuned!

Bungy Jump

43m high Kawarau Bridge - The original bungy site

It all started with the people of Vanuatu in the Pacific who have been throwing themselves from huge towers for centuries with nothing more than a few vines tied to their feet. After extensive stress testing on latex rubber cords, a series of extreme jumps were made throughout Europe including a jump from the Eiffel Tower in 1987. In 1988 the Kawarau Bridge became the World's first full-time bungy site. The perfect place to experience my first ever jump!

It wasn't until I drove towards the site when it hit me even harder. I had been feeling nervous all morning but as the bridge came into view I considered the 43 meter drop to the river below (and almost crashed the car). I was scared and in desperate need of a toilet. Ali excitedly ushered me to the check-in desk where I was asked to sign a waiver. I accepted that "Bungy Jumping carries with it some degree of risk; both to person, property and emotional trauma of friends and family spectating. Knowing of the risk I still wish to register and participate in Bungy Jumping and so expressly agree to assume the risk of personal injury, damage or trauma to friends and family while I participate in this activity".

Ali looked far from traumatized and was obviously quite looking forward to watching me throw myself of a bridge. I was weighed, directed to the bridge, and fitted with a harness. I have to be honest with you... even as I sit here and type this — more than six hours after the experience — I feel nervous just recalling the events. I waited on the bridge and watched the people ahead of me get tied up then jump one by one. At this point I felt excited and confident. I knew it was safe (ish) and that I would enjoy the experience to some degree. I was not however, prepared for what hit me next. I climbed over the edge of the bridge onto the platform where I lay on the floor to be tied up. First they wrapped a towel around my ankles and held it in place by a few straps. They connected a few cords and within seconds I was ready to go. (eeek!) I pulled myself up off the floor and waddled like a penguin with my bound feet to the edge of the platform. It was now that the biggest wave of absolute fear hit me. I didn't think I could do it. Every part of my mind and body was against it. I can't even begin to describe how unnatural it was to look down past my feet at the water below knowing what I was about to do. The man behind me started counting. 3, 2, 1...

I have three movies of this event including a post-jump interview which is very amuzing. No photos unfortunately.

Ali also participate in a jump today. A jump three times as big as mine. It has been confirmed... she is crazy!

Franz Josef Glacier

This is our group at the start of our 2 km walk to the base of the glacier

Today we spent 8 hours cautiously climbing up and down Franz Josef glacier. From it's origins high in the Southern Alps, the glacier descends deep into the lush rainforest of Westland National Park, offering what has been quoted as "the most spectacular glacial environment available to the general public anywhere in the world". Having not seen many glaciers in my lifetime (well, none at all actually) I don't know how accurate that statement is but I do know that it was an experience I'll never forget! We crawled through ice tunnels and squeezed through parts that even Ali had difficulty exploring. It was so incredible and unlike anything I've ever done before.


Me in an ice cave


View as we walked up the glacier

It's hard to imagine that such a thing actually moves but it does. About half a meter a day apparently. As we climbed higher I tried to ignore the fact that my fingers had almost froze by doing some basic math. I worked out that every 30 minutes the glacier moves 1 centimeter further down the valley. I stopped for a second to consider this. I suppose, taking into consideration the amount of ice there is, it shouldn't be that surprising but for some reason I was fascinated. I also learnt a few things I didn't know about glaciers. Like why they actually form for example. A glacier is made from snow that summer has been unable to melt from cooler heights. Over time and increased pressure from it's own weight, the snow transforms into glacial ice.


Ali squeezes herself through a gap in the ice


I suspend myself above a 30ft drop

As I'm sure you can imagine, such an expedition up icy terrain requires seriously dedicated equipment. Rest assured we were provided with hats, gloves, socks, boots and something called Ice Talonz. Ice Talonz are sort of like metal teeth that get attached to your boots and offer superior grip on the ice. If it wasn't for them I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here now to recall the events. It certainly made walking on ice much easier. Once we reached a certain height our guide handed out walking sticks with ice pics on the end. This provided endless fun for everyone as we entertained ourselves by chipping pointless holes in the ice whenever we were stationary. Our guide had a much bigger tool that he used to cut steps in the ice which enabled us to safely climb the unique ice formations. A very admirable job considering no one tour is ever the same. All the steps he cut for us today won't exist tomorrow. Even if they didn't ice-over, he probably wouldn't be able to find them because every day he takes his group along a different route.


No. It's not Prada


Ali. Proud of her achievement


I fell quite severely behind just to take this one

As soon as we returned back to our tent we booked ourselves in for 30 minutes of spa therapy. A well earned soak in bubbly hot water was just what we needed. Not in the tent of course. The holiday park where we are camping offers such services. I good idea I reckon.

Avalanche Peak

The view from half way up the mountian

We drove to the visitor center early this morning and signed in. The park authorities have a great system in use and it's highly recommended that you use it. Ali and I, like many other visitors about to subject themselves to some degree of mountaineering, submitted our precise route and a basic itinerary to them by writing on a card and displaying it on the board in the entrance. The cards are checked daily and any cards that haven't been removed after their proposed arrival time will generate a search and rescue operation. I made sure I wrote nice and clearly.

Our itinerary was quite simple. Up Avalanche Peak then down Scott´s Peak.


A peek through the bushes as we climbed up the mountain

As usual I found the first 30 minutes quite tiring but once we got warmed up I was fine. There was definitely parts that were challenging and at times we literally had to pull oursleves up the face of the moutain. Occasionally we'd stop for a handfull of banana chips to re-energize ourselves before moving on. It took just over four hours to reach the peak. That's a lot of banana chips! It was exhausting but the view was well worth our efforts. I've never seen anything like it.


View from the summit


An spooky shot of moss growing on the trees


Ali stops for a well earned rest


In this shot I managed to capture a Kia just as it flew away from me


The beautiful Kia


Ali and I pose for a picture at the summit of Avalanche Peak


I just about make it to the top

Whale of a Time

One of the many picturesque views from Kaikoura

I unzipped the tent doors and peeped outside. It was almost as if I had forgot where we were. The funny thing about camping in a tent is that you always sleep in the same 'room' but each day it's in a different location. Today I was looking at snow capped mountains in the distance. Ali and I quickly showered before setting off on a short drive to our destination. En route we passed a sign directing us to a possum wool clothing store. I suddenly remembered what our friend Delphi had to say about her marvelous possum wool socks in Siberia. Thinking it would be worth a look inside I told Ali to pull over and stop the car. I was tempted to buy a pair of socks but decided not to in the end. Ali on the other hand just couldn't resist purchasing a pair of possum wool nipple warmers. The next time we stopped the car is was to visit a few of the locals. Seals actually. It was nice to see them in the wild for a change as supposed to in a zoo. I was however slightly uncomfortable watching them move. They seem to exhaust themselves very quickly by moving only a short distance with what I can only describe as the worst limbs for manouvering on land. They eventually give up after managing to haul themselves all of about 1 meter. We took a few pictures then continued onwards to our final destination.


An exhausted seal lying on the rocks

"Ok ladies and gentlemen" the girl with the microphone announced as she held a finger to her ear, "A giant sperm whale has just been sighted a mile away and has been on the surface for 5 minutes. If we're lucky, we'll catch him before he dives back under". At that point our boat sped off into even deeper territories of the Pacific Ocean leaving everyone onboard full of suspense and excitement. Or being sick. It would be an understatement to say that the sea was rough. It was extremely hard going even for the tough ones who apparently never get sea sick. The girl with the microphone proceeded to tell us exactly how deep the water was below us and directed our attention to the screen above her head. It showed a cross section of the ocean we were traveling on and illustrated current water depth by indicating how much of the empire state building you could (hypothetically, obviously) fit between us and the sea bed. Within seconds we jumped from the 7th storey to 4 and a half full empire state's stacked on top of each other. Evidently we had just traveled over a very large underwater cliff. The perfect depth to catch a glimpse of a giant sperm whale.


The tail of a giant sperm whale

These whales were as big as our boat and could dive to great depths (several empire state buildings if necessary) looking for food. It's when they finally surface for air that we can see them, albeit only a very small part. Microphone-girl advised us that the best way to spot a whale from a distance is to look out for the blow of water from it's head. She also begged us not to shout "there she blows" which for her, is obviously an extremely tired joke. "Ok everone, he's on the left side of the boat. Please make your way safely..." the entire group hurried, scrambled and almost fell out of the exit to ensure a good view. It was exciting stuff to say the least and we did get to see one of the biggest mammals on earth. So big in fact that an average heart of a sperm whale weighs 277 pounds (that's about the weight of two adult humans).

A rush of energy engulfed the entire boat every time there was a "sighting" and you could see other passengers diligently monitoring the ocean. Our boat was one of three vessels in the vicinity and a helicopter constantly flew around above us to sight whales and communicate their findings to the ships below. Special underwater sound devices where also used to detect the sound of whales approaching. Apparently different whales make different sounds. Some could easily deafen you or worse as the Microphone-girl described. She told us about a story of a man who went scuba diving. He was unfortunate enough to hear the sound of a whale even over mile away! It wasn't until he visited the hospital when he discovered what damage had been done to his internal organs. The intense 180 decibel waves of sound successfully managed to burst his eardrums and make many of his internal organs bleed within. He of course died soon after his examination. That's how whales stunn their prey apparently.

Dolphins was next on the menu. So friendly and playful. They followed our boat with so much enthusuasm and energy that we were all quite taken by it. Pairs of them jumped out the water time and time again. There was lots of them. I didn't know where to look, where to focus, wondering which one was going to do something next. Unfortunately they were so bloody quick that I couldn't even get a very good picture of them. It's the memory that counts though. Several Wandering Albatross also occasionally drifted by to say hi. The largest of the albatrosses boasts a wingspan measuring almost 3.5 m. Hard to believe but true! Today in fact was all about unbelievable sights and I doubt I'll forget them anytime soon.

New Zealand

Constant views of stunning landscape formations

The moment we stepped out of the airport at Wellington I knew I was going to enjoy my trip here. The people are unbelievably friendly and accomodating. New Zealand is very slow paced and appear to live a very relaxed lifestyle. No hassles. No drama. A simple life where people have been born and raised to appreciate the country they live in and as a result are very proud folk. I can't imagine that would take much though considering how beautiful their country is. Everywhere you look there is nothing but stunning scenery. A constant backdrop of incredibly beautiful landscape. Our plan for the next 10 days is to drive around the south island and explore as much of it as possible. Ali and I both regret that we don't have longer to stay in New Zealand but keep reminding ourselves — like we have throughout most of this trip — that we are fortunate enough just to be here no matter how brief our visit is.


There are 3 times as many sheep in NZ than people (honestly)