Chile to Argentina to Brazil 21/08/11 to 25/10/11

In a little over 2 months of hardcore, non-stop travel, through three of Latin America's most economically developed and prominent countries, we can rest assured that in this epic year, we have now witnessed some of the worlds greatest spectacles; from travelling to the driest place on earth to hiking 5 days in one of the earths remotest and most breathtaking landscapes, to viewing the largest waterfall in the world, to hearing the creaks and groans of the planets third largest, and one of a few, last remaining advancing ice fields, to finally, viewing the worlds most strikingly beautiful city from the feet of Christ himself.

Being typical, lazy Brits, we had attempted to hastily learn a little spanish, or should I say Span-glish, on our flight to Santiago, but rather than bolstering our conversational repertoires, we had become conversational hazards. We were sure we would pick it up as we went, but our first few days in this predominantly spanish speaking continent where so very few speak the Queens, were so typically spent, either shouting basic English or by communicating via some outrageous pantomimed clues. With both in full effect we somehow managed to just get by.

Chile, our first stop, was so much more a country than a just producer of fine wine, violent student protests, dangerous mines, massive earthquakes and right-wing Pinochet dictators. Having traversed the 4200km of its spine-like landmass, we now have a true understanding as to why Chile is so revered on the South American traveller circuit; its vastness in scenery is as contrasting as two opposing planets. Travelling 24 hours north from Santiago you hit the lunar-esque landscape of San Pedro de Atacama desert, the driest place on earth, whilst a 24 hour journey south of Santiago lands you in surely the most beautiful place on earth; the cliche ridden Patagonia, where the Andes look to have taken a crash course of steroids and where glaciers rival those of Antartica.

Chile's capital, the smoggy Santiago was founded in 1541 and is flanked by the Andes. Its a beautiful city with a deeply historic plaza de arms at its centre, which plays host to not only the cities aged monuments, cathedral and former gallows, but also, no matter day or night, is filled with an eclectic mix of strolling locals, street performers, pick-pockets, camera-toting tourists, chess players, hungry hobo's and the ubiquitous stray canines. Santiago is home to about 6 million people (about one third of the country) and to what seems like, approximately 1 million feral dogs. Dogs, rabid in every sense, who once were the affection of many a well-heeled family are now firmly part of the Chilean street culture. The pesky canines are literally everywhere, fed and absurdly dressed by the locals in canine clobber, they constantly sniff out and follow tourists for want of a better home, bite car bumpers as they chase vehicles down the street and terrorise neighbourhood dumpsters once dark settles.

Having based ourselves in the leafy suburb of Providencia for 3 days we found ourselves in a great location to explore the city and its many barrio's. Riding the funicular up Cerro San Cristobal gave us a stunning view of the city and a glimpse of the surrounding snow capped Andes that amazingly, run the 8000km length of South America. Classy barrio Bellavista was awash with swanky restaurants and bars and was an uber cool place to hang out, but as is the way across South America it wasn't worth showing up for a night out until 3am; a point in time on a night out when Micki and I are normally found unconscious with the remnants of a pizza strewn bedside.

As we stomped across to barrio Brasil to view more of the the cities colonial architecture we stumbled across the busy Centro, a commercial district that houses some of the most absurd, but similarly ingenious establishments that we have come across during our entire trip; Coffee with legs! Invented in the 60's, in part to mask Chile's awful coffee industry, but predominantly to boost sales, a local dreamed up a cafe with waitresses serving Chilean coffee wearing only mini skirts and cleavage enhancers, hence, coffee with legs. However, in the same way evolution betters man, coffee with legs evolved to become Coffee with legs and more, i.e. served by strippers. Four times a day each cafe has a 'happy minute', where the owner locks the front door, the strippers stand on the counter and er….. well strip, for exactly one minute. Even more bizarre is that this practice is an acceptable norm in chilean culture and forms the best part of a business mans lunch hour.

Heading 2 hours west from Santiago to the UNESCO heritage site of Valparaiso was a real cultural highlight. The city is set on 42 cerro's (hills) and is made up of impossibly high hillside houses, painted in an array of garish colours and home to some of Chile's most famous wall and graffiti artists. Century old funiculars cart you up the hills for mere peso-pittance and allow you to see the kaleidoscopic colours of Chilean bohemia sprawl into the hillsides. Unfortunately for us, those few days were spent battling sight-seeing with the effects of tear gas, shut-up shops and cordoned off streets as Chile's free-loading student population were surmounting daily violent protests about free education, turning Valparaiso into a city of street warfare. Our only salvation later that day was sampling some of Chile's gastronomic staples, a Completo (hot dog dripping with the works) and a bottle of their pride and joy, Carmenere wine. A.mazing and our new favourite drop! Needing to escape the madness we jumped on a 24 hour bus north to San Pedro and northern Chile's star attraction; the Atacama desert.

Arriving in San Pedro was a real eye-opener. Set at 2500m and officially the driest place on earth its a real dust-bowl, but regardless of its lack of greenery its a magnificent spectacle as its home to 10% of the worlds active volcano's, coupled with some of the most surreal lunar landscapes this side of the moon. Due to such little ozone San Pedro is also considered by NASA to have the clearest sky of anywhere in the world, which makes for an unbelievably clear vista of the stars at night. In year round sun and winter temperatures hovering at a cool 25 degrees we slept for 4 nights in a thatched mud-hut which blended seamlessly with its barren, but beguiling environment.

The extent of the Atacama's diversity only became apparent once we had biked the 50km roundtrip to Valle de Luna, toured our way to the Salar de Atacama, bathed at the El tatio geysers and stood in reverential awe at the Altiplano Lagunas of Miscanti and Miniques. With the active 6000m Licancabur volcano towering formidably over our shoulders and annoyingly for Micki, two stray dogs in tow, we biked to Valle de Luna to see the undeniably beautiful and mesmerising outer world landscape. Rock formations and giant sand dunes, formed as a result of flood and rain gave us the are-we-really-here feeling. At sunset the deep purples and reds formed an incredible landscape which, was testament to just how wild and contrasting earth can be.

A day later we were at the worlds highest geyser field at 4300m. Waking up at 4am to catch an unforgettable glimpse of these towering funnels of steam blowing their top at sunrise lessened the chilly impact of the fact it was -15 degrees at that time in the morning. Nothing that a dip in the neighbouring thermal pools couldn't remedy no mind. A scenic 2 hour journey from there led us to the Salar de Atacama, a huge salt flat with hoards of flamingo's grazing in the sparkling white pools of meltwater, that ever so perfectly reflected the images of an Andean panorama. Next up were the Lagunas Miscanti and Miniques in Reserva los Flamencos which, sat at a lung sapping height of 4600m and afoot of two active volcano's, a sight so surreal it left us constantly re-checking our photo's.

Heading back south we endured our most arduous journey of our entire trip, a 42 hour combined bus trip to Pucon. Fabled as Chile's own Queenstown, its an adventure destination centred around the almost perfect conical peak of the 2800m Villlarica volcano. Staying for just three days was enough to fit in a 50km off road bike tour, an easy hike and for us to gorge on carmenere wine in front of our hostel log fire and to graze on Chile's national dish, beef a lo pobre - an artery blocker consisting of a giant slab of beef served atop a mountain of greasy fires, fried onion and topped with fried eggs.

Puerta Varas, 4 hours further south sits firmly in the picturesque Lake District region and just outside the highly acclaimed Parque Nacional Perez Rosales. The town was seriously pretty, with a heavily german influence in its architecture and with the snow tipped Volcano Osorno keeping a watchful eye in the background. As a gateway to the park, we couldn't turn down the opportunity to trek the 23km Sol Paso Desolation, a trail which snaked its way through magma fields, 100ft wide lava channels and knee deep snow. In all it proved to be a good warm-up for what would turn out to be the pièce de résistance of our entire trip: trekking in Patagonia.

Opting to fly, rather than busing from Puerto Montt to Punta Arenas, deep in Chilean Patagonia, was probably one of the most defining decisions of our trip. The flight was as epic a flight as you could ever imagine, flying over the deepest and remotest areas of Patagonia which, have seen very little, if any, human contact at all. After arriving in Punta Arenas, one of the worlds most southerly inhabited places and nothing but a short hop from the Antarctic circle itself, we headed north to the gore tex mecca of Puerto Natales to prepare for our 5 day, 100km trek in the landscape phenomena of the worlds most astounding and astonishingly beautiful national park: Torres del Paine.

Having teamed up with fellow trekkers, Sven and Susanne for our trip, we set about gathering provisions to take on the 'W' circuit trek in the heart of a Patagonian winter. A park centred around the centro, norte and cerro granite spires its home to the elusive puma, black widow spiders and 3m condors that glide effortlessly in the thermals, high over the parks jagged granite peaks. Widely regarded as the best 5 day trek in the world we had the added beauty of doing it in winter, when the scenery is at is most wintry best, coupled with the fact that we would be four of only several people in the entire park at this time (a real rarity of exclusivity considering over 200,000 people visit this park each year) due to the freezing conditions, lack of accessible refugio's and the knee/waist deep snow. All this however, made it even more appealing as a personal challenge to us.

With the sun blazing in the bluest of skies, we set off laden with 15kg packs from La Amarga to begin the 17km leg of day one. With Torres' infamous granite spires, the parks centrepiece, towering directly ahead we marched on for almost 7 hours to their snowy base at Campamento Torres. Having pitched the tent on 2 foot of compacted snow we hit the rations for an a la carte offering of soup, sardines with a rice accompaniment. As darkness fell, so did the temperatures and the snow. It was the coldest, most sleepless night of our lives but what did we expect camping on snow with just a skinny roll mat and a second-hand sleeping bag. All night we willed for the 6am get-up in order to get moving again. Before dawn broke we were happily on the move, heading up to a stones throw from the spires themselves. Climbing near vertically and ascending through thigh deep snow, whilst being lifted from mountain by the gale force valley winds was a killer but the view from Mirrador Torres was as spectacular as any we have ever laid eyes on.

Each subsequent day somehow eclipsed the formers magnificence as on day two we trekked alongside the truly stunning lakes of Nordenskjold and Lago Pehoe, whilst day three involved a knee popping hike up the Valle del Frances, in which we not only viewed a monstrous glacier but witnessed our first sight and deafening sounds of an almighty avalanche as thousands of tonnes of snow crashed over the glacier from thousands of metre above. Micki was the only other crashing sound that day as she fell and fractured her cockyx, however, being the trooper that she is, she soldiered on in true Smith form. What a gal!

Wondering how Torres del Paine could top-trump day three we set off on our penultimate day on a 23 km roundtrip to catch an up-close and personal glimpse of the Grey glacier which, incredibly stretches all the way to Argentina. Stomping over the rockiest of terrains and walking parallel to Lago grey we knew we were close, as drifting effortlessly past us were the deepest blue, house-sized icebergs - a bizarre sight. With not a single other hiker in sight that whole day, the glacier was exclusively ours and as we stood in gawped silence at its sheer bloody beauty, we all felt a little overwhelmed.

Our final day saw us trek across 18km of flat plains to our departure point. Our feet were blistered, we were exhausted, sleep deprived, hungry and absolutely stinking after 5 days without showering, but we didn't care as we knew we had achieved something so few people even attempt in winter. Ravenous with hunger and in true Chilean style we celebrated later that night in town with a meal for eight for four of beef a lo pobre and bottles of Carmenere wine.

Torres del Paine is for us now, the benchmark to rate all other scenery. It is a park of outstanding and unparalleled diversity, at times it defies ones sight with its indescribable panorama's and I truly doubt anywhere on earth can match its rugged beauty. Without hesitation or doubt, its hands-down the best place we have or will ever likely see.

ARGENTINA

One day later, and an epic 40 weeks into our trip, we were duly welcomed at the Argentine border by a loud and proud sign that read; Los Malvinas son Argentinas. Loosely translated it means, the Falklands are the property of Argentina! With that in mind, we noted to self never to mention the Falklands war or Margaret Thatcher in our 4 week stay.

The 8th largest country in the world, Argentina stretches 3500km in length and is home to the colossal Aconcagua at 6962m, the highest mountain in the western hemisphere. Its also the fabled land of Malbec wine, the Tango, Maradona a la God, the worlds tastiest beef, futbol, dulce de leche and the best snack on the continent; the Choripan. We found Argentina to be more european than any other country in South America with a classy cafe culture and many a comfort, so in all we felt more than at home, but with a yo-yo economy and sky high inflation our pound also, was unfortunately, rather self-frivolous too.

For Micki and I, food generally takes a precedence and in Argentina the steak was top of our to-eat-list. The bife de chorizo is the national speciality and its cheap cheap cheap such is the abundance of it. It is unbelievable; the juiciest, tastiest steak we have eaten and most probably, will ever eat. The reason for its supremacy is simple; 2 centuries of cross breeding the best stock, very few inoculations and cows fed purely on the plains on Pampa's grassland.

El Calafate, in Argentine Patagonia was our base for exploring the gob-smacking sight of the Perito Mereno glacier. At 60m high, 115m deep and over 35km in length its one of the worlds few remaining advancing glaciers. Advancing at a rate of up to 2m per day it devours the valley floor and even dwarfs the surrounding mountains. We managed to take a boat to literally within metres of its face, giving us a sense of scale and perspective of its sheer magnitude. To hear the creaks, groans and explosions of house-sized pieces of rock regularly smashing into the glacial lake was an unforgettable feeling. It was a must-see sight and one that adds emphasis to the fact that Patagonia is probably the most spectacular region on earth.

Bidding a sad farewell to Patagonia we bused 28 hours north to Argentina's chocolate and ice-cream capital; Bariloche, which is in the heart of the Argentinian Lake District. Despite still being thickly covered with ash from the eruptions of the neighbouring Puyhue volcano in Chile (the same one that wreaked havoc across the world) it hadn't lost any of its ski-resort charm. Set in the most gorgeous setting imaginable of the Mount Nahuel Huapi park, its surrounded by the three huge mountains of cerro Cathedral, Lopes and Nireco. Sadly we had to bypass the skiing option due to the arrival of spring conditions and much to Micki's delight, we had to stick to hiking up to the viewpoints of cerro Campanario and Otto over our 3 day stay.

On route to Buenos Aires we swung by the siesta-mad Mendoza for more of what we do best, wine tasting in the Maipu valley. The region was more industrious than we were use to but the hefty measures of sensational Malbec more than made up for any lack of region character.

Buenos Aires; What. A. City. Having booked in for three nights, we stayed for 7 such was the beauty of this place. We had chosen to stay in San Telmo, a 19th century barrio of cobbled streets where once, the locals defeated the British in a street battle, an act that gave them bravery to eventually defeat the spanish and gain independence. Steeped in history with magnificent colonial architecture throughout its central plaza's, it oozed that quintessential Argentinian culture. We loved stomping around the city with its many Parilla's (steakhouses), small-change tango shows, street side cafes, outrageously extravagant cemeteries for the super-rich, its artsy boulevards, antique markets, La Boca Juniors and rich barrio's, which not surprisingly kicked-off lots of chat about an imminent return.

Micki turned the tender age of 27 in Buenos Aires and we celebrated in major style, a style we hadn't experienced for a long long time. Making sure I tttttrrrreated her just rrrrright……… we hit the swanky Palermo Vieja district for shopping, coffee, pizza and wine before heading out to the best steak house in Buenos Aires; Gran Parilla del Plata. We gorged ourselves silly on bife de chorizo, fine malbec before ending with a flaming tiramisu birthday cake and the entire restaurant singing Feliz Cumpleanos to a blushing Michelle.

Our final day in BA was as memorable as any as we managed to secure popular tickets to a Boca Juniors match and cruise BA's renowned San Telmo street market. The match at the world famous La Bombonera stadium aka the chocolate box, was as much as a religious experience as it was anything else. With 45000 passionate fans praying to the heavens for goals, throwing flares, singing and bouncing non-stop it made La Bombonera shake for a full 90 minutes. Thankfully Boca beat FC Tigre 1-0 which made our exit from the notoriously dangerous Boca neighbourhood much less of a risky one. The whole experience was crazy as you would imagine, a complete contrast to the premiership atmosphere and it was one we'll truly never forget.

From the outset Micki had wanted to see the mighty Iguazu falls and when we finally made the 19 bus journey north-east there from Buenos Aires it really didn't feel real. With 275 waterfalls in a small area its the largest series of waterfalls of anywhere in the world and it was just simply a stunning panorama of roaring cascades. The awe inspiring view and deafening sound of 20 million tonnes of water crashing over 80m into a misty bed below at Garganta del Diablo was incredible, and lived up to every expectation.

BRAZIL

We had only just mastered enough-to-get-by spanish by the time we had left Argentina so we had no chance of picking up portuguese in the 3 weeks we had in Brazil, but luckily we found them more than accommodating. Larger than Australia and hosting the worlds largest rainforest in that of Amazonia, it amazingly contains 20% of the worlds plants, 15% of the worlds animals and produces 20% of the worlds oxygen. Even more fascinating is the unbelievable fact this region is widely believed to still contains tribes that remain untouched by any modern day societies.

With just 3 weeks and Brazil being majorly expensive we only had enough time and money to hit the well trodden route from west to east; Paraty, Ilha Grande and obviously Rio de Janeiro. Arriving in Paraty after 2 days of travel via Sao Paulo was a welcome relief. A super old colonial town with the most amazing cobbled lanes it was surrounded by gorgeous beaches and islands and therefore found ourselves lying supine in the day, whilst at night, plying our way through the local, but lethal Caipirinha cocktails.

After 3 days we were ready to move on to Brazils premier beach island; Ilha Grande. A former pirates lair, leper colony and state penitentiary its a huge island of predominantly forest, but with just the main town of Abraao, and with no roads or vehicles its a decent getaway from Brazilian's mainland carnage. Lopes Mendes was famed as being the best beach on the island and after a 2 hour walk there through hilly forest we had to agree. Lazing away three days by beach bumming here was the ideal prep before we hit a crazy Rio.

Our main aim in Rio was to avoid being mugged after all the horror stories we had heard in the run-up to our 7 day visit. In a city where its legal to run red lights at night because of the frequency of car-jackings and where our Lonely Planet guidebook stated, ''when coming to Brazil, accept the fact you may be mugged'' we were right to be over cautious.

On first impressions Rio was a bit of a mishmash of the colonial crumbling old and modernistic new, sprawling hillside favela's and the historic samba district of Lapa. However, it took us a few days and the appearance of the sun to really appreciate just how beautiful this city is. Rio is going to be a major player in the hosting of the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympics, but from what we saw its still got to overcome some pretty major problems, namely transport and crime, if they want to run a successful games.

Pitching ourselves 3 blocks from Copacabana beach was a good shout but our 10 bed dormitory room meant 7 hellish nights of very little sleep and one night of waking to a hammered mexican being sick in the middle of the dorm floor.

Copacabana beach is just as you imagine it to be. With sugar loaf mountain towering famously at its southern end, its a sweeping white sandy beach that arcs 3km along Rio's coastline. The beach is buzzing both day and night with posts marking out some common sections i.e. gay, favela kids, families and sports. By day its packed with surfers, sun-worshippers with some seriously big butts in thong bikini's and favela kids playing futevol, volleyball or tourist robbery. By night its flood lit and really comes to life with joggers, roller-bladers and countless futevol matches. We spent our days at either Copacabana or Ipanema beach sunbathing amongst the rich, the poor, the homeless, the thieves and the beautifully bronzed and buff, whilst nights sipping ice cold Skol at one of the many beach kioks.

Our days off Rio's beaches were spent viewing the city from high above at the enormous statue of Christ the Redeemer and atop Sugar loaf mountain. Both, although giving differing but equally beautiful panoramic views of the city reinforced the touristic fact that Rio is one of the most of attractive cities in the world. We couldn't leave Brazil without a night on the Caipirinha's and hitting a samba party in the renowned district of Lapa. Micki was a natural and in no time she was gyrating it with the best of them. I on the other hand, rhythmless and uncoordinated looked more like a I was having a seizure, so opted to hit the bar and watch from afar!

We were sad to leave Brazil, having felt that 3 weeks was doing it an injustice, such is the expense and time needed to travel this huge country I'm sure we'll be back.

Next stop, a 72 hour bus/train combo ride to Santa Cruz, Bolivia.