If the shoe Fitz...

Holy smoked sardines, what a crazy three days we've had here in Patagonia. I've been proved wrong. Previously I believed that glaciers were slow moving, relatively underwhelming natural phenomenons. Correction: Perito Moreno glacier was the most amazing wonder of the natural world I have ever seen. Not only is it an unearthly shade of blue, but massive chunks larger than houses crash 75 meters into the lake below at least one or twice an hour, ringing out like gunshot. The whole glacier cracks and groans like the sound of lightning hitting earth. In complete awe.

We took the night bus to El Chalten, three hours North to see the Fitz Roy, the FROY - a 'Land Before Time' mountain range piled on top of eachother like drip sandcastles we used to make as kids. It looks as though it could crumble at any moment. Carrying a box full of food, cucumbers and carrots peeled in the bus terminal bathroom (hygienic), we got comfy on the bus and made sure to break the only two rules posted above the driver: DO NOT EAT OR TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES. That's the only reason I take buses. Luckily there was nothing against drinking beer so we made sure to take advantage of that.

The moon rose above the eerie Patagonian landscape. Deserted lands lined by low mountains and meandering blue rivers set aglow by a full moon. As we approached El Chalten we saw the glowing silhouettes of the majestic Fitz Roy range, tall, elegant and jagged - dominating the clearest night sky. I fell in love with one mountain that had the twisted elegance of a swan. The night disguised a black cliff face and the rest of the mountain, covered in snow, created a fairy-tale peak twisting up towards the heavens. We discovered today the peak is called "SOLO" or 'alone' in spanish. Perfect.

We got rained out yesterday on our first climb to see the Froy. Soggy bottomed and wind-burned, we turned back before the final descent. Today however, was a gift from the universe. It started out by spotting two condors soaring above the cliffs outside our hostel. You can literally walk out of town with your pack to get to the trail head. The sun was warm and lit up all the snowy peaks, casting brilliant shadows between the tall forests on the trail. We wound between glacier fed rivers, barren sandy plains, stunted-tree marshes and old-growth forests. The fall colours were incredible - goldens, deep hues of red and orange. It felt like home and the scents of damp leaves, oregano and sweet forest floor reminded me October in Canada. That makes sense as it is currently autumn in the Southern hemisphere. Also reminded us both how incredible Canada is and how excited we are to explore our own country when we return. Now more than ever, I believe I live in the most beautiful country in the world.

We reached the base where a glacier runs into a high mountain lake, grey-blue and white-tipped with the wind. Had a wee nap on a lakeside rock and took in the sun. A sunset bus ride back to El Calafate was equally as inspiring as the first. Yerba mate in hand and a bag of chocolate, we watched a red glow rise from behind the humble mountains, unable to decide if it was the rise of a harvest moon or setting of a lazy sun.   I think not knowing is best.

Also - sorry Argentina but I still think Cabernet Suavignon is better than Malbec, but RESPECT. Tomorrow off to Torres Del Paine - attempt number two, to watch the sun rise over the Torres (towers) there. Luckily tonight we are staying in a room with two others that are taking the same bus tomorrow morning. We figure that with four alarms set, we have a 60% chance of making the bus. Otherwise, I'm keeping my eyes out for cardboard for a new hitchiking sign. VAMOS A TORRES DEL PAINE, TENEMOS EMPANADAS!

O-tuz-Company

Well, it's that time again. Time to pack the human-size backpack, trim the nose hairs and shine the boots. Back on the dusty (and roadblocked trail). There's a protest by informal miners against government policies which make their activities illegal. Thousands of them have closed down highways across the country, in this case 3 km of the highway to Trujillo. Early start to maneuver our way through the burning tires, tear gas and dead bodies. No it's totally peaceful. But does requiring going by foot. Going with my great pal Myra, she's from Trujillo, I assume she navigates protests daily.

This week and a half in Otuzco has been fantastic. I lived in a centre with a pastoral team that does outreach trips to rural mountainous communities. Ate some great traditional (and belly-exploding meals with them, lomo saltado and rice, gallina de pollo and rice, rice and rice. It was fantastic when one of the gal's mother came to stay and cooked every day. Mmm fresh fish from the coast deep fried, 'chicharron de pescado.' Lovely people... and the best part? Washing clothes on the fourth floor terrance, looking over the town nestled all cozy-like in the valley. Had a great hike to a look-out, and as per usual, was passed by Peruvian children wearing flip flops, jogging. They stopped to advise me that I was going the wrong way. I pretended I was taking a break to look at the view, really I just couldn't breathe. Fooled them. Humbled + Lung Pain = The Andean Hiking Effect.

Second best part? Discovering the lady who sells deep fried potato balls with green onion Ahi (spicy sauce) on the street for only 10 centimos each. That's like 3.8 cents a piece. Visited her every day. She laughed every time I approached... never figured out why, so I took it as a compliment and laughed along.

Beautiful Myra and me at ancient ruins in Trujillo -"Huaca del sol y de la luna."

I worked with and organization that monitors water quality in three rivers near Barrick's gold mine 100 km away. Just three fantastic men, in a cold office and the same 13 songs on the radio. The country only allows 13 songs to be released at any given time. That's my impression. We had wine breaks, Americanos in the afternoon and 3 hour lunch siestas for napping. If that's not class, nothing is. But Alas, my feet are itchin with anticipation for the next thing.... or maybe it's a fungus. Either way, on to Lima to pick up my gal-pal Danielle and then to Cusco (21 hours by bus) While long and completely butt-numbing, I still look forward to the bus rides.

The buses are great here, double deckers with bed-seats below that recline a lot and normal lower-class seats above. I always go for the front of the upper level, called the panoramica because of the great view you get. And the endless flashing of headlights. Worth it though, gives me some element of control like I could run to the back of the bus if I saw an accident evolving.

Which brings me to another amazing thing about Peruvians. It seems they are born superior for bus travel. You can always spot a non-Peruvian on a bus. They will, like me, be shifting uncomfortably, looking worried about the urine-only bathroom rule, (WHY?), adjusting the curtains aimlessly and snapping awake in a panic that their bag has been stolen. They will also, somehow, be the only people that get up the use the washroom on an 18 hour bus ride. Incredible. The Peruvians will be sleeping as soon as the food service is complete. Through the loudest, poorly-chosen,10-year old film dubbed over in Spanish, through 5 hour mountain turns that make amusement parks seem lame.... even with multiple kids sleeping on their bellies. They're just more advanced this way. I'm in training actually. Hoping to hit the one-full-hour of sleep mark before I leave in June. I've reached about 17 minutes so far. These things take time.

Morning Colours. 

Lovely Otuzco

The largest avocados the world has ever produced. 

Ronal y yo