we’ve been bopping around the lakes district a bit for the past few days, and although i’m sure it’s as beautiful as reputed to be, we’ve come to the conclusion that you can really only appreciate it fully if a) you have your own transportation b) you have the cash for the cool (but expensive) tours, like volcano climbing or trekking patagonia or c) it’s warm enough to camp. unfortunately none of these are applicable, so although it’s been enjoyable enough, we’ve been a bit underwhelmed. which is why, in a fit of madness, we’ve decided to untertake 35 hours of bus journey in the next two days. this evening we hop back to santiago (15 hours), arriving early tomorrow morning. not so bad. but then at 3 that afternoon, we jump back on a bus to san pedro de atacama (20 hours) to get up to the desert region in the north.

madness, i tell you. i’m sure there will be an interesting post to follow.

a few notable milestones:

1. both j and i have now visited all continents except antarctica
2. we’ve hit the quintuple-fecta, having travelled by planes, trains, automobiles, buses, and boats.

…….

people have asked me if this trip has made j’s and my relationship stronger, or if it has tested it to the limit. i’ve thought about that question a lot, and the truth is, i don’t think it’s been good *or* bad for it. there have been fluctuations, just like back at home – times when we’re totally on the same wavelength, or just sharing a moment. and times when we snipe and gripe like characters out of dr. seuss. there were about two straight weeks of hell at the end of fiji/beginning of nz when it seemed all we did was argue. but overall, it’s only reinforced what i already knew: j’s the one for me. i never get sick of being around him (all those of you who’ve seen “high fidelity” are excused to go retch). i never get bored with him. he can always make me laugh, and always sucker me into a debate. and most importantly, he keeps me balanced and sane. whenever i’m in danger of losing it, he reaches out and reels me back in. my even keel.

lord knows what he sees in me. but i’m more convinced than ever that i’m pretty damn lucky.

………

people have asked me if i’m ready to come home. and (in spite of what i said last night when i was storming around the freezing hospedaje bitching about being cold) the answer is unreservedly “no”.

i’m tired of wearing the same clothes. i’m tired of packing up every few days. i’m tired of cold showers. i’m tired of working out budgets in kip/renminbe/pesos. travelling (for those of you who’ve said you were jealous) is not all sunshine and roses. i’m not a huge fan of the lonely planet books, but they hit the nail on the head:

“the road means getting up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus… maniacally trying to guess which of the towns you keep passing through is the one you intended to visit…blissful relief when you finally arrive and find your pack still on the roof… begging children, the arduous haul to the hotel, a screaming bladder and the excitement of a new town all catapulting your mind from one emotional extreme to the next. the hotel manager says the showers are hot, but the water hitting the skin is as cold as the bottom of lake titicaca. there’s no seat on the toilet (at least the bowels are behaving)…ok, food. leave the pack in the corner, get out the map, locate the market… you get lost, your mood turns sour as your blood-sugar crashes… try to haggle but have no clue what the fruit seller is saying. you finally hand over the cash – did i just get ripped off? – and walk out to find a good place to eat. is this easy?”

still and all: at the end of the day, i’d rather be dirty, tired and cold in the middle of nowhere, than warm, clean and bored in london… because i’d be wishing i was anywhere else.

i’ll try to keep that in mind for hour 27 of the marathon bus journey. meanwhile, here’s a few of our southern pics.

see you on the other side…
jen

so last night we decided to splurge a bit and go see a movie. the cinema advertised the premiere of a new sean penn flick, so after ascertaining that it was indeed in English (and not dubbed), i talked j into seeing “dias de furia” (translation: days of fury) over “los piratos del carribean, parte 2″.

bought popcorn, sat through the previews, and then the title screen of the film comes up: “the assassination of richard nixon”. which is actually a great film – i happen to know because we’d already rented it on dvd nearly a year ago. sigh.

now i ask you – how was i to know?

the country of chile is obsessed with hot dogs. they’re the preferred fast food, and they’re everywhere, served in every style imaginable. with fries, with beer, with avocado, *on* fries, on pizzas, in sandwiches.

need i even mention that j is in heaven?

there’s boston love everywhere!

and specially for benal and kay bee:

more santiago photos here.

flashing back to my high school years, i vividly remember my excitement at signing up to be a foreign exchange student for a summer. i also vividly remember my disappointment at being assigned to go to paraguay, rather than spain as i’d so earnestly hoped.

sometimes life has a funny way of giving you just what you need, because my summer in paraguay turned out to be a seminal experience for me, which i wouldn’t have traded for anything. not only did it spark my lifelong love of travel, but also my love of español and latin culture. i remember coming back from being abroad with a lightbulb over my head, thinking, “ahhhh, so that’s what i am going to do with my life – something with spanish and travel. perhaps an international aid worker, or diplomatic interpreter…” i was convinced that spanish would become an integral part of my future.

of course, life rarely works out the way you think when you’re 16. somewhere along the line, obstacles cropped up, priorities changed. and it’s now been 17 years since then.

still, i am in the throes of remembering how it felt to fall in love with a language and a lifestyle. there is something about spanish which has always felt like a second skin – the more i find myself immersed in it, the happier i am. being able to navigate through a non-english world is a secret sense of pride – it’s like having a second home, or being a member of a club. and as a traveller, it is the difference between real interaction with a strange culture, and gawking it at from outside. and for most of the trip i’ve only ever been able to do the latter.

so maybe i didn’t end up living in costa rice teaching english, or working with street kids in mexico city, or acting as an interpreter for a UN official. still, it’s a great feeling to discover that no matter how far you stray from your passions and dreams, the love is always right there below the surface, just waiting to be reawakened. and it’s as easy as a visit home.

¡buenos tardes a todos, estamos en chile! i am actually really proud of myself – my spanish has been more than good enough to get by, and i just waded right in. it all came flooding back to me, as soon as we got off the plane and i realised that the only way we were going to get the 20 kms into town was if i tried actually, you know, conversing. there is (thankfully) very little english in these parts, which has forced me to get over my fear of embarrassment and just go for it. and all the chilenos have been very warm and helpful (even if they do speak really fast and indistinctly), making it easy for me to blunder through with a smile. immersion is a wonderful thing. (and yes, i rock just a little bit.)

crossing the international date line has not been as wonderful, as we essentially went 48 hours without sleep in a single day, and are now back on eastern standard time, so still rather jet-lagged (which explains, and hopefully excuses the very disjointed post). we finally ventured out this afternoon for a long wander through santiago, which, interestingly enough, reminds me most of rome (and, of course, spain). there is something very european about the city, which is both familiar and different – lots of plazas and wide avenidas, cafes and sidewalk restaurantes. they seem to have an inexplicable obsession with hotdogs and ice cream, but you can’t beat the empanadas and cerveza. yum. the architecture is to die for.

the current, very tentative plan is to head south for a while, perhaps to the lakes district (want to go to patagonia, but that might not be possible in the off season), and see how far we get. it’s also occurred to me that we have only 8 short weeks left of this incredible experience, so we must make the very most of it.

more soon, mis amigos.

ciao,
jen

our last day in nz, and i am sad to be leaving. i’m loathe to say goodbye to this beauty, this sense of space, this feeling of freedom and grounding and appreciation. it’s far and away the most gorgeous place i’ve ever been.

don’t believe me? in case you missed them, the pics are here and here and here and here and here.

the parks have been *immaculately* maintained, the people genuine and warm, the public toilets sparkling and well sign-posted (which makes a big difference when you’re camping.)

it’s been incredible. i’ll be back.

we’re off to chile tomorrow morning, where i’ll be tripping over my own tongue trying to remember some spanish… until then my chickadees.

j

lest anyone think i’ve forgotten about my beloved soxies…

i know red sox nation is holding it’s collective breath as we head into this all-important series with the skankees… i am sending our love from afar, and have all faith that we will kick some n.y. ass.

go sox!

smooches from the southern hemisphere…

the maori believe that aoraki (mount cook) is a sacred symbol of their spiritual ancestors – a link between the supernatural and natural worlds. that the ice and mist and peaks and valleys all combine to tell a story of the land’s and people’s beginnings – a story of father and mother and son, of love and parting and tears and loss and eternal love.

as we’ve passed through sprawls of dizzying mountains, endless rolling pasture, thick rainforest, and crashing coasts… it becomes clear that it’s impossible not to worship at these altars, impossible not to find yourself silently and instinctively offering thanks to whatever forces brought them into being. impossible not to be moved, stirred deeply and inexplicably in some very primal way to exaltation. it’s more than awe and wonderment. it’s an inspiration to glorify, to pray to some benificent being, to pay homage to something omnipotent and almighty – an undeniable and urgent need to praise something or someone for the magnificence that is this extraordinary planet. it’s the spark of all belief and theism and religion and myth.

when you find yourself at the foot of a mountain, lost in an unconscious and unspoken meditation on the meaning of life and the birth of the universe – suddenly you understand the endurance of something as enigmatic as faith in this crazy world.

it’s impossible not to.

so later that same day (after the bungy jump) we headed out to the otago peninsula and made our way to the beach, in a bid to see the rarest penguins in the world, the hoiho/yellow eyed penguins, of which there are about 3000.

but first (and it neglected to mention this in the guidebook) we had to pass through an obstacle course of (also rare, but far less cuddly) sea lions, which were scattered over the sand laying in the sun like slugs. giant, powerful, dangerous slugs, that is. aiming to give them a wide berth (and avoid a small group having a vociferous spat), we climbed through the maze of high sand dunes, only to stumble upon more of them sleeping in the tall grasses. not an animal you want to accidentally surprise.

we finally made the (very long and circuitous) route to the penguin blind, hid ourselves in the little shelter, and waited patiently (or in my case, not so patiently) for them to make their arrival.

and as the sun began to set, in they came – surfing in on the waves like fat sleek bullets in the shadows, then waddling wetly and ungainly over the large rocks, and finally (and most comedically) bunny-hopping their way up the steep cliffs to the nests high above. a spectacle of nature unmatched anywhere, guaranteed.

have i mentioned recently just how lucky i am?