Peace and love

We arrive in the Lakes District of Argentina heavy hearted, having just heard the news that the same Chilean volcano to disrupt our flight from Christchurch to Auckland in June has erupted again, depositing a fresh dump of ash all over our next destination.  For me it was a tearful bus journey passing by scenery we could barely see, so thick was the air with a fine grey mist that has essentially devastated the surrounding landscape.  Arriving in Bariloche, one could just make out the shadow of the mountains that sit across from it on the shores of Lake Nahuel, and it was so disappointing to have come so far only to be cheated of the views that this region is so famous for.  We deliberated whether or not we should stay, which in the end we did, and fortunately it turned out to be a good decision, for over the next few days, strong winds lifted the ashy smog elsewhere.  It made for an exceptionally chilly cycle around the nearby lakes (of which there are many), but the air was clear and the views of the lakes and the jagged snow-capped mountains that surround them were spectacular.  It reminded us a lot of New Zealand, though the smell of the pine trees was 100% Scotland and, as with any reminder of home, deliciously comforting.  We ended up having a great, relatively ash-free, few days, after which we headed a couple of hours south to El Bolson. 

El Bolson is set in an idyllic valley snuggled between two mountain ranges and is renowned for its reputation as the hippy town of Argentina which is, of course, what attracted us to it, and where we discovered “La Casona de Odile” - hands down the best hostel we have stayed at during our entire year away.  Breakfasts of homemade bread and jam; nightly log fires; beautiful gardens; good company and the most gorgeous setting 5km from the town, with stunning views of the mountains.  Not to mention the home brewed beer, which, I’ll admit, I am getting quite the taste for, and so feeling considerably more supportive of Phil’s plan to brew his own on our return.  We spent six days here, and they were some of the most relaxing we’ve had in a long while.

From El Bolson we took a beautiful but heart-wrenching journey to Chile, through the area most affected by the volcanic ash.  Entire lakes were covered in a grey film, the rivers flow with it, and streets are lined with mounds (some higher than our double-decker bus) that I imagine will take years to clear.  The air is full of it and toxic as a result, and when you see how the lives of the people have been devastated as they have, suddenly a cancelled flight or foggy day seems entirely insignificant.  It was the first day time bus we have taken in a few months and, ash-aside, the scenery was truly breathtaking and, face pressed to the glass, I find myself choked with emotion at the realization that this experience is so very nearly over.  Though I am more than ready for the reunion with family and friends, I am aware that this may be the only thing I am anticipating with excitement.  We have become so used to this nomadic lifestyle and the daily discovery of the incredible wonders of this world.  We have become accustomed to having our breath stolen, on a regular basis, by such startling beauty that one can barely begin to imagine, and of which photographs cannot hope to do justice.  Though I have daydreamed about the feelings that I don’t doubt will overwhelm me the night we touchdown in Glasgow airport, I realise that these things of discovery that have become our life, will soon replace my family as the subject of my daydreams.  There is so much of the world still to see and beauty to behold; I realise that my opportunity to do so is almost over, and only God in heaven knows when another will arise, if ever again.  For though it is true; to quote “The Wizard of Oz”; that “there is no place like home”, the world is truly remarkable and I’m not sure that I am ready to let it go.  Having been so certain that we would be immune to the culture shock and struggle to settle back into “real life”, I suddenly find myself wondering if it is possible to ever fully readjust to the life we, temporarily, left behind, or will I be in a constant daydream, always anticipating the next journey?  Will we ever again feel ready for the certainty and predictability that accompany the nine-to-five life?  Will we be able to adjust to seeing the same things - day in, day out - and never have them leave an impression on us?  Will it ever be enough?

Vino anyone? Yes please!!

We had never initially planned on coming to Mendoza, but after hearing so many complimentary stories from others we had met on our travels, we decided it would be a worthwhile addition to our itinerary.  Unfortunately this meant yet another cross country bus journey, though we quickly discovered that the rumours we true, and that it had been worth the extra cost and effort.  Nestled in the desert to the east of the Andes, Mendoza is deliciously warm, surprisingly green and affords you the most spectacular views of the magnificent stretch of snow-covered mountains that separates Argentina from neighbouring Chile. 

Two of our four days were spent doing what we came here to do; cycling in the sunshine from winery to winery to liquor and chocolate factory to artisan beer garden, sampling fine wines, home brews, olives, oils, chutneys, jams, chocolates and liquors of every imaginable variety.  (Tobacco flavour?  No thanks, I think I’ll pass!)  It was certainly a boozy few days, but not in the sense that it would have been a few years ago.  Long gone are the sorrow-drowning days of old.  Every drop is considered, not guzzled; each glorious burst of flavour savoured; appreciated.  We sample some of the most delicious red wine I have ever had the pleasure of tasting, and become a little better educated on this subject that is so very close to my heart. 

Our favourite of the wineries boasted a huge balcony adorned with comfy couches, and many an hour was whiled away with our feet up, mulling over a fabulous bottle of Malbec, looking out over the vineyards it came from, framed by the breathtaking backdrop of the Andes.  There have been many days of late that I have felt travelling has been wearing me down, and more and more I have been anticipating our return home, and wishing its hasty arrival upon us.  But in those hours I relished in the warm feeling of utter contentment, and was once again able to fully appreciate how privileged we are to have experienced all that we have.  In less than one year we have seen more than a lifetimes worth of two week vacations would have allowed us, and though I am excited for our return to the people and places that remain closest to our hearts, for the first time I feel truly saddened that this incredible experience, and all that is entails, is finally drawing to its inevitable conclusion.

One year!!

Our first taste of Salta was a brief jaunt for just a few days before we disappeared into the wilderness that was Aldea Luna.  Every balmy, sun-filled day was spent enjoying long wine fuelled lunches and lazy wandering; admiring grand colonial architecture in a delightful palette of ice cream colours.  Arriving from Bolivia, it felt, suddenly, like we had returned to the ease of modern life for a sweet, sunny holiday from the stresses of travelling.  Gone were the ski jackets, hats, scarves and out came the summer dresses and shorts that have seen little more than the interiors of our rucksacks since Australia.  We had such an enjoyable time that, after our month in Aldea Luna, we returned for a few more days to celebrate our one year anniversary; on which we enjoyed a delicious dinner and reminisced on how astounding and life changing this first year of marriage has been.  We feel so incredibly blessed to have had this incredible opportunity to discover the world together, but cannot help but hope that every year of our life together won’t disappear with such speed as this one.

From Salta we took our first extraordinarily luxurious bus; complete with la-z-boy style leather recliners, flat screen TVs and a beef and roast potato dinner; to Puerto Iguazu, a small jungle town on the Brazilian border that has not much going for it other than its proximity to the mighty Iguazu Falls.  And, oh, how mighty they are.  We spent a lot of time discussing whether we were prepared to travel the huge distance required to spend just one day in the presence of the falls, and were certainly not disappointed that we had decided to do so.  It’s difficult to really explain how impressive they are, but their awesome power coupled with their tremendous beauty renders most visitors visibly awestruck (and exceptionally wet!).

Yet another luscious bus (this time serving wine and champagne!) transports us the 22 hours to Buenos Aires.  We anticipate the capital with as little expectation as we can muster and a certain sense of uncertainty; it seems that all visitors to BA either love it or hate it and we don’t want to get our hopes up only to be disappointed.  On the day we arrived it was pouring with rain, which can easily put a damper on any city, but even amongst the dreary misery we caught glimpses of the European beauty that has won BA as its reputation as the “Paris of South America”.  And in many ways it is like Paris, but, as we soon discovered, it still brims with Latin American charm, the combination of which is both eclectic and enchanting.  Cobbled streets filled with antique shops and artisans selling their wares, beautiful couples dancing the sultry tango on the sidewalk, little old men in suits and bowlers hats busking for their bread, and gorgeous old cafes that transport you back in time and sell by far the best coffee we’ve had in all of South America.    In a nutshell, BA has character; unique and lots of it; and is unlike any other city we’ve encountered.  We indulged in the popular tourist activities; walking tour, tango show, visit to colourful La Boca, market in San Telmo, coffee in Cafe Tortoni (Argentina’s oldest); but equally enjoyed embracing the portenos way of life – hours spent in cafes and restaurants, reading the paper, a good book, watching the world go.  Though not managing to oust Valparaiso from its top spot as favourite city in South America, Buenos Aires definitely captured our hearts with its efforts.  We may have even fallen in love a little bit.

Little Moon Village

My recent blog absence owes itself to our decision to spend one month of our time in South America volunteering on an organic nature reserve in the Yungas of Northern Argentina.  This served the purpose of stretching our vanishing money over more months, whilst allowing us to embrace the long lost sensation of feeling settled.  Particularly after all the Bolivian-induced stress of late, we were looking forward to some time away from cities and enjoying the unfamiliarity of, once again, having a routine.  I will save you from the boredom of explaining our life at Aldea Luna (though not boring for us, one could not often differentiate one day from the next).  But that was what we were in need of to recharge our long since empty batteries.  So instead I have put together a list of some of the things we learnt during our time in the “Little Moon Village”.

-How to dig a hole.

-How to make bread (and cook it without an oven).

-How to make gnocchi.

-How to make jam.

-How to plant vegetables.

-How to save your organic veggies from preying bugs.

-How to survive showering only twice a week.

-How to make compost.

-The correct ratio for making cement.

-The secret to becoming a ‘Cluedo’ master.

-How to heat water without the use of gas or electricity.

-How incredibly beautiful the stars are. (Though we already know this, it is easy to forget when they are so often blocked out by big city lights).

-Chickens are evil.

-If you eat beetroot daily and in large quantities, things come out the other end a rather startling shade of pink.

-And finally, how to live without...plug sockets, a fridge, an oven, meat, dairy, chocolate, coffee, alcohol, internet, any communication with the outside world, washing machines and washing ourselves!

We had a wonderful time and have learnt a huge amount, but are very glad to be on the road again for the final two months of our epic adventure and showering daily once more.