Have I told you lately that I love you?

Over the Andes and into Chile, we are assuming that the landscape will be just like that of the Argentine lakes district, given their close proximity to one another.  What we fail to anticipate is the effect that a vast mountain range will have on a landscape, and so are startled to find that our assumption couldn’t have been more misguided.  Argentina was mountainous, the lakes sparklingly turquoise and the primary vegetation Christmas trees; more than anywhere else we have been it reminded us of our beloved New Zealand.  The south of Chile, in stark contrast, is lush and green; its rolling hills scattered with Friesian cows and apple blossoms.  It reminds me of Gloucestershire, and the only thing to betray its true identity are the three mighty, indescribably massive, snow-capped volcanoes that are visible (on a good day) from just about everywhere.

We have some time off from the long distance bus journeys for a few weeks, and are instead able to potter between the delightfully retro towns of the Chilean lakes district.  The down side is that the Andes make quite a considerable difference to the climate here too, and so we find ourselves stuck indoors passing by a few rainy days reading, watching movies and generally relaxing.  It’s not a bad life, though it’s not what we came halfway across the world to do.  But at this stage in our trip we are starting to drag our feet a little and so the break is a welcome one. 

In Puerto Varas we stayed in a great hostel with lovely staff with whom we spent a few evenings sharing travel stories over a bottle (or few!) of Chilean red.  And so when we returned after a few days of trekking in the beautiful isolation of the Rio Cochamo Valley, they greeted us like old friends, with a welcome so warm that I felt quite overwhelmed.  Not since our time with friends in New Zealand have we been made to feel so appreciated and wanted, and to have a little taste of it from people we have known only a few days’ only increases my excitement for the welcome I know will be waiting for us in just a few weeks.

We have been making lists, one thing a day for a month, of the things we are most looking forward to about home, but in truth I’m not sure that thirty one days will come even close to covering all the treasures I have been storing up in my heart; longing for; over this past year.  I have even, on days, missed the rain, and I hate the rain!

In our room there is a globe, and looking at it reminds me how incredibly far we are from home.  But I know that this year away from it has made me appreciate more than I imagine I ever would have if we had never left.  As incredible at the world is, home is home, not because of amazing beauty or perfect weather or mouth-watering cuisine, but because of the people who make it so.  How often life gets in the way of us spending as much time as we should with the people who matter the most, but I have come to realise that there are few things that are more important.  Bar bathroom breaks and a bungy jump, I have spent every minute of every day of three hundred and forty-six days with one of those people, and I am ready for some serious overtime with the rest.  We will be broke and starting “life” again from scratch.  It’s daunting and a little bit terrifying, but I no longer care because I will be surrounded by the great loves of my life, and that is more than enough.

In two and a half weeks we are coming home.

We are ready.