Before I start, I thought you might like to know that I am writing this as we sit here in our hostel in Santiago being serenaded by the sounds of rioting and demonstrations taking place literally around the corner from us (maximum 40 metres up the road!). The sweet smell of tear gas is in the air, which tickles the nostrils and brings a slight tear to one’s eyes. I suppose it gives the place an interesting atmosphere but it definitely isn’t what we came to Chile for, so it has added a new dimension to our trip!

Anyway, enough of that (especially as Hoff will cover it in more detail in a later blog). Back to Puerto Montt.

After handing back our hire car (having driven around the airport twice, not just to see the sights but because we missed the hire car return turning again), we got on a bus to Puerto Montt proper. There we initially wandered around the town, sweating as we lugged our kit whilst looking for place to have some food before our long overnight bus to Santiago. We were suddenly really keen for pizza but despite an hour of searching, we found nothing but seafood. So foodless and rather grumpy, we retired to the bus terminal food court and ended up with a Chilean KFC-style bargain bucket, complete with empanadas. It wasn’t quite what we had wanted but it filled a hole and set us up for the night. After an hour or so sat on the grass outside the bus station, reading our books and looking out over the bay, we boarded the bus and settled in for the 14 hour trip to Santiago.

We booked Cama seats, which basically means that they recline a long way and you get more leg room. Think premium economy on a flight. Buses in South America often have lots of options (some even have a Business class which folds flat into a bed) but we’d never splashed out on such luxury, and to be fair they were pretty comfortable. The bus pulled off and soon we were in the land of nod, our sleep only being interrupted by the comings and goings of passengers embarking and disembarking as the bus made its scheduled stops on our route north through the night.

14 or so hours later and as the sun rose, we started to make our way through the outskirts of Santiago. Shouldering all of our gear at the bus station, we threaded through the throng of people and luckily found a taxi to take us to the car hire pick up. With that sorted, we were on our way to the Chilean coast. As with many South American capitals, the lanes on the roads in Santiago aren’t particularly well marked, nor are they adhered to by other drivers, so I had to remember all my London driving skills (aka being a total a**ehole) just to get us through a number of junctions and onto the motorway. Once there, the toll machine in our car started beeping as we went through all the various checkpoints, and had we not been briefed about this beforehand, we’d definitely have been petrified that we were getting zapped for speed limit or other such infringements!

(As an aside, it sounds like the police have had enough of the students kicking off just around the corner and are gearing up for a charge; there’s been a marked increase in the ‘pop-thump’ of tear gas canisters being fired, and my eyes have started streaming and my nose is running again. Fear not, I shall struggle on valiantly to bring this blog to you).

We arrived in Concon, the seaside town to the west of Santiago, a few hours later, and settled into our BnB. Hoff immediately discovered that they had Netflix and was soon watching an episode of Greys Anatomy. Having essentially watched Amazon TV dry whilst out here (we’d had enough of watching Grand Tour on all our buses and flights), this was a big moment (for Hoff at least) which ultimately culminated in her persuading me we needed to get Netflix for the rest of our trip. Not long after that, we opened a bottle of red wine and fired up the parilla (bbq in South America) and were chowing down on steaks and grilled veg. It was lovely and warm outside, and thoroughly pleasant. We retired to watch more Greys and make the most of the enormous room we had managed to wangle. It was nice to have a proper bed and our own clean bathroom. Travelling does really make you appreciate the little things!

The following day, after a 5km run along the seafront (which was harder then we remembered a 5km being and I suspect as a result of a lack of real phys in the last few months), we decided to travel up the coast to spend some time on the beach. It was sweltering – pushing 36 degrees – and we could only really manage an hour or so before we gave up and headed home. Despite two applications of sun cream during that time we still managed to catch the sun a bit, which shows you how strong it is here at this time of year. We stopped off at a local fruit and veg stall to grab some supplies for the evening, and once again had a cracking parilla accompanied with some cold beers. Again, it was pretty pleasant. We watched yet more Greys Anatomy and did feel a bit guilty that we were being lazy, but then again, having been on the move non stop for so long, we secretly liked having the down time.

The next day was more of the same – lounging around and sunning ourselves on the beach. I’d really got into a book about a chap who was cycling around the world without using any motorised transport (except boats) and it was giving me some ideas about planning some kind of bike trip for Hoff and me, but this was swiftly vetoed by Hoff when I brought up the idea. I suppose we had better finish this trip before planning others, but I shall continue to mull it over in the background. Supper was home made fajitas and a beer, and we called it a night by watching Friends (I know, super rogue right!).

On Saturday morning we loaded up the car and set off for Santa Cruz. Two hours south of the capital, SC is surrounded by vineyards which sit in the Colchagua valley. Nestled in between a couple of rivers, the soil and temperature make it a perfect environment to grow red wine grapes such as Cabinet Sauvignon and Carminere. We were looking forward to a few days of wine tasting, and rented a couple of bikes and set out to explore the surrounding area, first going to the Apalta sector which is supposed to be the best. We tasted a few wines, which were pretty cheap by the glass (£1-2 for a decent wine is pretty good, especially compared to London prices). We made friends with an Australian chap at our second tasting and he gave us some recommendations for places to go in the area, and then at our third place we had a private tour at one of the premier wineries in the whole region. It was really interesting to learn about how Chilean wine makers, completely accidentally, saved the Carminere grape from extinction, and what to look out for in a top quality and poor quality wine.

The following day we went to the other end of the region to try some slightly different wines. It’s amazing how moving just a few kilometres down the road can have such a dramatic impact on local weather conditions, which in turn have a huge impact on the taste of the wine. Our final place of the day was lovely as we again had a private tasting. It’s worth noting that these weren’t by design and purely by chance. We learnt more about the political situation in Chile over a glass or two of lovely Cab Sauv – the former having had a negative impact on the number of people coming to try the latter, hence we were the only people to have ventured out to see this particular vineyard this day. Nicolas, our guide, spent a couple of hours with us and even brought out a bottle of seriously expensive and rarely opened wine (the owners daughter had visited recently and they had a bottle open that needed finishing, lucky us). We finally cycled home much later than expected and definitely a little tiddly, and that evening we had a pizza at the restaurant attached to another of the vineyards we’d visited earlier in the day. As the sun set on the vines it was a lovely way to finish the day and went some way further to cementing our view that Chile had been our favourite South American country on our trip.

Once again, the car was loaded and we were on our way back to Santiago, having negotiated a discount on our bike hire (thanks to Hugo, our lovely host who couldn’t have done more to look after us). Hoff took us the scenic route which meant we avoided lots of traffic and the majority of the toll roads, and we were soon driving into Santiago. I dropped Hoff at the hostel and set off to hand back the hire car. On my way around one of the major roundabouts, I was waiting to filter into the traffic heading right. Suddenly a young guy, shirtless, wearing a mask, and carrying a huge fire extinguisher, blocked my path. He asked (rather demanded) money for what I think was to support the student rioters. Playing the dumb tourist card (shaking my head and mouthing something about not speaking Spanish), I tried to wangle my way out of the situation. He got rather agitated and for a moment I thought we were about to lose the damage deposit on our car hire (should I be concerned that at that point I was thinking more about money than my own safety?), but he stepped aside and let me pass, suggesting that I go and do something nasty to a particular member of my family.

I arrived back at the hostel safely and met Hoff. Recalling my experience, we laughed it off as a one off. Little were we to know that things would get a tad more interesting in the days to come…..

Ps – a little hello to my friend, Patts. Thanks for your messages, and we hope you enjoy reading this blog and that it makes your commute a bit more bearable!

We were picked up by the shuttle bus to get to the airport. Balmaceda airport near coyhaique is tiny! From arriving at check in to being sat at the gate took us 8 minutes. There were only 2 gates! An employee stood at the front of the waiting area and held up a sign to indicate which flight was next and so to get in the queue. Slightly chaotic but seemed to work. Our flight was only 80 minutes but the take off was the bumpiest I had ever experienced. I may have already mentioned that I am not a good flyer, which is less than ideal when wanting to travel around the world! Anyway. We were bouncing all over the place to start with and so began the sweaty palms and fast breathing. Soon enough we got through the bumps and calm was restored.

After a smooth landing Alex went to sort our hire car out and I got the bags. We had got a small car but we managed to fit with all our luggage so what more did we need? As we pulled out of the airport we had such a sense of freedom. No bus times. No early starts. The ability to stop where we wanted to. Amazing. Naturally, we got lost immediately after leaving the airport and so we we drove through it twice. My sense of direction is poor and I often get the wrong turning on google maps, however I’m sure google sometimes changes its mind about routes mid drive! An hours drive later and we found ourselves at the ferry headed for Chiloé island. It was 10 minutes and £12 for the privilege to cross it. Our first night was in the first town you get to in the north called Ancud. Our accommodation was great. The owner was so friendly and the room and bathroom so clean! After a walk around town we treated ourselves to an ice cream. We worked out that it was our first non-scoop ice cream of the trip. We have a lot of time to think about things like this…! The supermarket was our next stop as we wanted to cook for ourselves for the next 5 days. With the luxury of a car we could carry more. We picked up some Waitrose olives and Dijon mustard. What a find. We ended up eating the whole jar of mustard within a week! After rustling up some fajitas it was time for bed.

The next morning we drove to some forts at the very top of the island. The road suddenly went into gravel so it was rather slow progress. We walked along the beach and then headed to the west coast to see the penguins. On the way we stopped at some of the churches as there are a lot on the island. The penguin tour ended up being a disaster. Having been lucky enough to see a few penguins on our trip so far, we were not sure if we would do the boat ride. However. On Chiloé there are the Humbolt penguins (which we had seen) and also the Magellanic penguins (which we had not seen). After wandering along the beach we turned back to the car and decided to take a boat ride. We saw a boat for £5 less than all the others. With hindsight (and had we had more than 30 seconds to decide), we might have asked what the differences in tours were, but we didn’t. And we paid the price (no pun intended). We saw only 4 Humbolt penguins and went a completely different way to all the other boats. We got back to the office as we had to pay and with broken Spanish, charades and google translate we conveyed our annoyance. We had time to read the brief when we got back and it said 2 colonies of penguins. I’m not sure 4 penguins would even make one colony. The woman in the office looked about 20 and she just said if we didn’t like the tour don’t pay for it. We decided to split the difference and pay for one of us but I was pretty cross as we didn’t get to see the Magellanic penguin. Next time we take a tour we need to read the brief!

We left the beach and picked up a couple of hitch hikers who were heading our way. We always said that if we saw some hitch hikers when we had a car we would try and help them as we had wanted (and got) rides earlier in our trip. The couple were useful as they gave us some info about our next stop which is New Zealand. That afternoon we drove down the Eastern side of the island. We didn’t have anywhere booked to stay but had been recommended somewhere. We turned up and no one was there. After a few shouts of ‘hola’ we were going to give up when the owner arrived. We were the only ones that would be staying in this amazing cabin with incredible views of the sea and mountains. Life was good.

The next morning after a delicious brekkie with home made honey we set off to a nearby island. After a 5 minute ferry we were being shown what would become our accommodation for the night. I would describe it as an unfinished communal room at a camp site. It had a couple of trestle tables, some chairs, a cooker, a sofa bed and also a dead bird in the corner. We checked out a couple of other options on the island but this one proved to be the best. The winning feature was the view. It was brilliant. Risotto and red wine was on the menu tonight. The sofa bed just had room for both of us but it wasn’t the best nights sleep. Still. It was an adventure.

The next morning we set off for the west side of the island. We tried to go for a walk but the road to the parking area suddenly ran out and we found ourselves driving on the beach! Other cars were there too but we didn’t hang around for too long. We managed to find a walk after 15km on gravel roads. We got attacked by the huge beetle bugs for most of the walk and it was very busy so not one of our favourites. We stopped off to try and find a cabaña for the evening. We found one right on the river. It had a little balcony around it and all you could hear was the sound of the water. It was definitely one of the best stays of the trip.

The following morning we headed to Castro which is the biggest town on Chiloé. After browsing a few places to stay we ended up at the first one we looked at. It had a funny smell to it but apart from that it was fine! I’m not sure what we were expecting in the town but after an hour we felt we had seen it. That evening we treated ourselves to some sushi. Delicious! That night the dogs around the house barked all night. Horrendous.

The next day it was time to head back to Puerto Montt and brace ourselves for our 14 hour overnight bus ride…

Our excitement bubble was well and truly burst.

We were on the verge of making the most spontaneous travel decision of our trip so far. We’d even forgotten the debacle that was our overpriced Lipton black teas. However, after multiple attempts, we found that the Chilean website we were booking our flights on would not accept our card details. Despite numerous further tries it still wouldn’t work and we were now dangerously close to being too late to get the flight. I wish we could say we threw caution to the wind and went to the airport anyway, but we didn’t, and we resigned ourselves to the fact that we’d have to stay at least another twenty four hours in what was turning out to be an expensive and boring town in the middle of nowhere.

Fed up, we grabbed our gear to head to the LATAM airline offices nearby to try and get the ticket sorted. As we were walking through the local square, we suddenly heard a voice shouting “Charlie Higham” from the other side. Call it serendipity or just plain old luck, but when we looked at where the shout had come from, Hoff recognised one of her old school friends, Kathleen, also clad in walking gear and carrying a big backpack. After a rather stunned hello on both sides, and an introduction to Kathleen’s girlfriend, Gemma, we all stood there laughing at how random a meeting this was and how it came at a time when both Hoff and I were feeling pretty pissed off at the last 24 hours and were in need of some cheering up. It just so happened that Gemma and Kathleen needed cheering up too (Gemma had had a nasty slip and rolled her ankle which had swelled up nicely, causing them to have to abandon the rest of their long planned Patagonia hiking trip). We all agreed that what was needed was a pizza and wine feast that evening to make us all feel better, so we parted ways having decided to link up later on.

Hoff and I continued to walk to what turned out to be a now closed down LATAM office. Doubling back in ourselves yet again, we stopped off at the local tourist information office. They couldn’t book us the flight but did give us the name of another travel agency, so we set off in the direction of the agency to see what they could do. On the way we decided that we’d use the WiFi from the tea debacle cafe to see if I could call the airline and make a payment over the phone. 60 painful and completely pointless minutes later and we were stood outside the cafe, me trying not to throttle the person on the other end of the line and Hoff very cold, bored, and now completely and utterly fed up. So fed up was Hoff that for a moment (it was very brief, maybe 10 seconds), she actually considered going home (as in back to the UK). Once I pointed out to her that to get to the UK we’d still have to get out of Coyhaique, and that this was but a mere blip in our travelling adventure, she soon perked up again and slung her backpack over her shoulders once more, and we headed off.

By this point the local drunks in the park must have thought that they were seeing triple (or that their current batch of home brew was very strong) as we walked past them yet again towards the tourist information to try and find somewhere to stay for the night. There I spent another fruitless 90 minutes using their landline to try and book the flight, which again was a complete waste of time. We gave up and resigned ourselves to the fact that we’d need to get the bus out of the town, and once again (for what must have been the twentieth time that day) put on our backpacks and walked to the hostel that the tourist information had arranged for us. When we arrived we were very pleasantly surprised that it was actually clean and cosy. Compared to the previous night’s pig sty, it was a palace, and once we were in, showered, and had had something to eat, things began to look up. We wandered down (sans bags this time) to the travel agent who confirmed they could get us the tickets, before Hoff suggested that we try (one last time) to get them ourselves. I wasn’t that keen and was sure it wouldn’t work, but for some reason it decided to play ball and we finally had our flight tickets out of Coyhaique (costing me a drink in the process as I had bet Hoff a beer that it wouldn’t work).

The rest of the day (which by that time wasn’t much) was spent doing admin before we headed out to meet Kathleen and Gemma. We had an awesome evening drinking Pisco sours and wine, and eating our body weight in pizza, and before we knew it, it was 2am and we were being kicked out of the restaurant. We agreed to meet up for a coffee the next day and then wandered home, very full, very tired, but very content.

The next day we had a whole day to kill before our flight to Puerto Montt. We decided to take the opportunity to do some washing. As Hoff mentioned in a previous post, with a wardrobe limited to what we can carry in our backs (not very much), you end up wearing the same clothes all the time (and often more than once between washes!), so having clean clothes is a wonderful feeling. We also met Kathleen and Gemma for coffee and cake, then did a little bit of shopping (I finally bought my long sort after Patagonia t shirt) and called home to check in. We ended up back at the same restaurant that evening and then got an early night.

Early the next morning I was up and running around town to collect our washing and a few bits and pieces before we headed to the airport. I got back to the B and B just in time to meet Hoff and to jump onto our transport to the airport, and it’s at this point that I hand over to Hoff to continue our trip north.

After our Choripan, burrito and nachos, we were feeling quite full, but we were hoping to be a bit sleepy as we had the overnight bus from El Chalten to Los Antiguos. After killing time for a few hours sat on a park bench (with me reading and Hoff off patch hunting again) our bus finally arrived and we settled in for the nearly twelve our ride to the border. As we sat down we were handed our supper – a cheese and tomato roll, a chocolate biscuit, and a carton of juice. It might not sound much, but by bus standards it was gourmet, and we munched it all whilst watching our new favourite Amazon show, James May’s ‘Our man in Japan’. Hoff was soon fast asleep and I wasn’t far behind her, and before we knew it we were waking up 600 km north on the border with Chile. We had to wait an hour or so for the next bus to take us across the border, but we were soon on our way and, apart from some swift munching of trail mix at the checkpoint (no fruit or nuts allowed to cross into Chile), we arrived in the Chilean border town of Chile Chico. Here I left Hoff to guard the luggage whilst I went to bust out my best Spanish. I quickly worked out that we’d just missed a bus to the next town to the west (Rio Tranquilo) which meant we had two options – wait and hope that there would be another bus later on (once they had enough people) or commit to getting the afternoon ferry across the lake and then a bus to Coyhaique, the next stop on our trip. Not wanting to take the gamble on a bus, I committed us (in Spanglish) to the ferry option, so we then had 6 hours to fill until we needed to be at the terminal.

Six hours sounds like a lot, but once we had had a coffee and a beer (after noon obviously), done some car hire research, made a few Skype calls, and then had lunch, it was basically time for us to go, and we schlepped all our bags down to the dock and walked into the ferry across the lagoon. The lagoon is massive and is owned half half by Chile and Argentina. Surrounded pretty much in all sides by snow covered mountains, it’s an impressive and beautiful ride, skirting the border all the way south to north across the lake. The wind was blowing hard and had it not been for the clear blue sky and sunshine, it would have been pretty chilly. Eventually we’d had enough of being windswept so went inside to read our kindles. It was just as well that we did as as we rounded the corner heading north west towards the port, the wind was stirring up the lake into thrashing white horses and the ferry took a fair few clangs from big waves as we came in. Quite a few car alarms went off and as we pulled into the dock, I felt sorry for the people waiting to go back across.

The ramp came down before we’d even stopped moving, and before it had touched the ground, the cars were driving off. Dodging a lorry and a motorbike I grabbed our kit – which had been helpfully piled up in the gangway – and we trooped off like marines leaving a landing craft, heading for our bus. Luckily the driver was there shouting out the name of the company and we were quickly loaded up and belted in. He zipped off at top speed climbing the mountain away from the town. The views were simply amazing in the fading sunlight – it was coming up to 8pm by this time and the sun was beginning to go down – and we would have enjoyed it more had we both not been feeling a little car sick. ‘Drives’ was taking the corners at speed, and it didn’t help that they were pretty much all hairpins, and this, coupled with the lack of ventilation in the back, meant we both felt pretty green. Thankfully the guy behind us must have been feeling the same as once he opened his window, and the road straightened out, we felt a bit better.

Two hours or so later and we were dropped off outside our hostel. It was almost 10pm and getting dark, and we both just wanted some food, a shower, and then to get some sleep. Having slept in bunks or tents for the last two weeks we also just wanted a proper bed. We were greeted at our hostel by three huge Great Danes – dogs that is, not three huge Danish people! The hostel smelt of tuna and dog food (not a good combo) and the owner couldn’t have wanted to get us into our room and get away fast enough (evidently she had better plans for the evening). When I say room, what I really mean is a double bed put into what clearly used to be another non-bedroom part of the house (and had been fashioned into something for human habitation with the addition of some chipboard walls, fibreboard ceilings and see-through plastic for a window.) It was a real dive and had it not been for the fact that it was late, that we were hungry and tired, and that we knew that there were very few other options nearby, we’d have walked out. Hoff braved the shower and came back telling tales of slug trails across the ceiling. All in all it was a bit of a disaster, but we were so knackered that we fell asleep in the dirty bed anyway.

The next morning, having had what turned out to be actually a pretty good night’s sleep (it was warm and not a sleeping bag, and we were pooped from all the walking and travelling, so we were bound to sleep well), we reluctantly paid the rather rude hostel owner and got out as quick as we could (Hoff having looked under the bed when doing her final sweep of the room and almost gagged at the dirt). Our plan was to walk into town and have breakfast, over which we would sort out our next moves. Our initial thoughts had been to stay in Coyhaique for a few days of hiking, then aim for Puerto Montt, a larger town in the north of Patagonian Chile, then reassess from there. However, our knees were still recovering from all the hiking, so we decided to press on sooner to PM. However, we weren’t quite sure how we were actually going to get there. On the way to breakfast we tried all the local car hire places, all of which were full or charging ridiculous amounts for a one way heading north. Writing that option off, we found a small cafe to eat at and decided that our next port of call would be the ferry (no pun intended). However, thirty hours sat in a non reclining seat didn’t really tickle our fancy, so we decided against that one too.

That left a bus or a flight. We decamped and wandered around the town, looking for some WiFi to get online and somewhere to stay for another night. We found a cafe and reluctantly coughed up for some Lipton tea. When you ask for a black tea I.e. English style tea, overseas, out come the Lipton tea bags. They are pretty low down on the ‘decent tea’ scale and produce what can only be described as a slightly off white (once milk is added) and very weak cuppa. Nevertheless, it was cold outside and we needed the WiFi, so we chugged down the milky nothingness and got on Google Flights. Minutes later we were on the verge of making what for us felt like the most spontaneous travel decision we’d ever made. Hoff had found a flight leaving in 3 hours from the local airport. It was only £50 or so each, and having found that there was an uber they could get us to the airport in time to make the flight, we decided there and then to throw caution to the wind and book the flight the same day. As we hurriedly paid for the crap teas (forgotten in our excitement) and I set about booking the uber, Hoff started booking the flights…….

After getting back into Puerto Natales we showered and headed out for food. After a pretty miserable 5 days of eating Alex decided he needed to order most things on the menu. I went off to get a patch of Torres del Paine for my backpack (I collect patches as we go along) and got back to the resto to a massive glass of red wine. Ideal. As predicted Alex’s eyes were bigger than his stomach but we did manage most of it and only left with some pizza which we could have on the bus the next day. That night we slept very well!

The next morning we were up at 6 for the bus back to El Calafate. We got, what we worked out from speaking to the bus companies, was the first bus of the day. We wanted to try and beat the border control queue. Alas. When our bus pulled out so did 2 others. How?! They said they left later. Another classic South American flexible time situation. Anyway. This time the border was quick and we soon found ourselves checking into our hostel which we booked as it was opposite the bus station. We walked into town and sampled one of the local beers during happy hour. We had also seen a nice Parrilla grill during our previous time in the town. However tripadvisor didn’t speak fondly of it so we embarked on a food mission.

We ended up at the number 1 on TA which was one of our best meals on the trip to date. It was exactly like fawlty towers. Absolute chaos! But the food was immense. It was a bit of a walk out of town and we didn’t quite know what to expect. After a wait for a table (whilst the only waiter chatted to everyone rather than clearing tables and seating customers) we finally had a table. It was a classic Parrilla grill so it was meat or meat (in case you’re interested, we chose the meat). There were a few different cuts on a board. Pick the cut and choose your cooking time. Simple. We chose half a litre of house red which was poured from a massive vat. We didn’t expect much from it but it was surprisingly nice. The rest of the evening (we were there for about 3 hours in the end) went by with us in fits of giggles as the waiter got more plastered on his beer he was swigging and the chef throwing different meat on the grill. For some reason we got a top up of wine and then another 2 bottles came out over the rest of the evening for us “to share” with the people at the next table, a couple from England who we’d got chatting to as we were waiting for our food. Around midnight the waiter told the 4 of us remaining that he was leaving for 5 minutes. And he did! When he came back (more like twenty minutes later) he said he couldn’t remember if the other couple had paid or not. The whole thing was brilliant and definitely one of our best nights so far.

The next day we felt a bit jaded and had a chilled morning. That afternoon we got the bus to see the Perito Merino glacier. Alex’s knee was still playing up so we decided to treat ourselves to a boat trip to see the glacier. This was a one hour trip bobbing up and down next to the glacier. It was freezing cold and quite a long hour! After the boat we walked along some of the trails and so I think we saw the glacier from most angles! By the end we were a bit glacier’d out and had about an hour to wait for the bus. Back at the hostel we cooked dinner and got an early night as we were still knackered from the trekking.

The next morning we collected our clean laundry which is always a highlight for us. When you only have about 2 t shirts there is nothing better than when they are clean. That afternoon we were off to El Chalten to do another 2 day hike to see the mountain Fitz Roy which is the logo for the Patagonia clothing brand. Everyone seemed to be wearing Patagonia kit. I mean I know we are in the Patagonia region but wearing the clothing brand head to toe seemed a bit OTT. We were just a bit jealous as we didn’t want to pay £50 for a t shirt even though it had a really cool bear on it! Anyway. Our bus set off with an eta of 3 hours. About an hour in an extraordinary event happened. It suddenly became extremely windy and one of the big double windows literally blew out. We watched it fall away. Luckily no one was hurt. At the time we were in hysterics. But then when we finally stopped the driver couldn’t tell us how long it would take for us to be on the move again so after an hour of waiting Alex managed to get us a lift with a couple in a car. Winning. We got dropped off at the campsite we had found online, checked in and then went for a browse around town to collect some supplies for the following 2 days. We bought wine in a carton so it was easy to carry. Classy! We ended up drinking half of it that night which made it easier the next day!

The next morning we dropped our kit off at the campsite luggage storage, picked up some brekkie from the bakery and set off. As we were only going for 1 night we both just had our small day packs so they were very full. The bonus of that is that we have to start eating our snacks asap so our bags get lighter….! Day 1 was about 22km. We stopped off at a few lookouts along the way and passed a very cringe scene of a backpacker playing his guitar next to a lake whilst his friend sang. We couldn’t have walked past them fast enough. Who takes their guitar on a hike?! The campsites in the park are free and you just pitch your tent wherever in the designated zone. There were 2 long-drop loos at either end of the zone so the key thing was knowing the wind direction as the smell was pretty rank. We found a good spot and by 3pm our tent was up and we had nothing to do.

The campsite was at the bottom of the Fitz Roy peak and we would be doing a hike to see the sunrise at a lookout point the next day. After an early dinner (accompanied with cheap wine that we were swigging from an old water bottle – classy) and bed we got woken up by some very noisy people walking through the camp on their way to watch the sunrise. It’s unbelievable how loud people can be at 4am and think their behaviour is ok! We got our warm kit together and set off with head torches. The climb was quite steep and took us about an hour. At the top we were welcomed with awful crowds of 20 year olds who were playing loud music and drinking beer. Talk about ruining the scene for us. So we walked past them and found some rocks to hide behind to drown out the noise. The sun started to come up and we were treated to some beautiful views, with the red and orange rays bouncing off Fitz Roy and the freezing glacial lagoon below it, which was very cool to see. By 630 the sun was properly up and we started the climb down as we wanted some more sleep!

After a couple of hours snoozing we had a leisurely morning walking to see another glacier. We got back to the campsite, quickly took down our tent and soon we were making our way back down to the town, so another 20km of hiking today. We’d covered over 40km in total so we were pretty tired and Alex’s knees were really feeling it (they’d swelled up again) so we were looking forward to a bit of down time. Our first stop was to eat a choripan, an Argentinian favourite and a take on the hot dog. We wolfed it down but it didn’t touch the sides, so we wandered down to road and settled in for beers, burritos and nachos at the local craft beer joint. It felt good to sit down and eat something that wasn’t made on a camping stove, and Alex took a moment to put his leg up to try and reduce the swelling. We then headed back to the campsite to collect our belongings and rather begrudgingly parted with some cash to have a shower (we didn’t think our fellow passengers would appreciate ten hours on a bus with us not having showered).

I’ll hand over to Alex to take you on our journey north to the Chilean Lakes.

We finally finished the climb to the start of the Chileno valley. I’d tried to make the climb easier by giving Hoff a running countdown, likening the final 400m to a race at a school sports day. It wasn’t very funny but it did take our minds off the aching legs and burning lungs. As we came around the corner we were blown away by Windy Pass – not literally, but by the views. They were stunning. We were high above the valley below where a white glacial river snaked it’s way up (well, technically down) towards the mountains. Tall green trees surrounded the river and the valley cut a sharp winding V all the way up to finish below snow covered granite giants. It was quite magnificent. We flew along into the campsite, renewed by the view and a Hoff’s desire to catch and beat the two couples walking ahead of us (and she calls me competitive!). Our camp for the night was to be on a raised wooden platform cut into the valley hillside. This meant we had great views through the trees but also a very dry and warm spot. It was a novel but great way to pitch a tent, and once in place we went down and enjoyed a hot and powerful shower.

Feeling like new, with some clean clothes on too, we went inside to make supper. We weren’t allowed to use our cookers at this campsite so they provided free hot water with which we made a three course meal (eating some more baby food in the process) and ate it whilst listening to some very loud (and painfully stereotypical) Americans get drunk at the table next to us. Slowly our faces reddened – from the heat and not from embarrassment on behalf of the US lot – and we were soon very tired – the warmth, fresh air and full bellies all taking effect. We therefore went back to our tent, prepped our gear for the next day, and then put the lights out for the evening. By lights out i mean pulled our sleeping bags over our faces; it doesn’t get dark here until almost midnight at this time of year.

My head had literally just touched the pillow (for which i was using my rolled up jacket) and the alarm went off. It was 0145 and finally dark outside, and we were setting off at 0230 to climb the mountain for sunrise. Luckily we’d got most things ready the night before, so we put in our clothes again (mine smelling cleaner as I’d had a chance to give them a wash the night before)m made a thermos of hot chocolate for the top, and, with head touches showing us the way, struck out on the path to the top. It was rather unnerving walking along in the pitch black. Noises seem louder as all your other senses take over and are heightened. We were expecting to see others on the trail as well, but for a long time it was just us. We stopped every now and then to check we were going in the right direction, and as we got closer to the top and the dawn began to get light up the scene around us, we finally saw the first head touches following us up. We finally got to the top where it was windy and cold, so we pulled on all our warm gear and, being first at the top, took our pick of shelter behind a big rock and settled down with a hot chocolate to wait for sunrise.

To be honest, the sun didn’t really ever actually rise on the part of the mountain we were on and, apart from the view up onto the towering rocks above us (which was very cool) we were a bit puzzled as to what we were there to hike is very famous and lots of people recommended it, but after two hours, although it was light, there wasn’t exactly any kind of magical moment where the sun lit up the mountains. In fact, as we started the descent back to camp, we realised that the sun would have taken ages to even get to a height where it would hit the rocks above us so we thought they perhaps the ‘sunrise’ part of the walk was a bit of a miscommunication and you were only really there to witness ‘dawn’. Either way, it was still a really cool experience, and we were glad that we did it.

Once back at camp we got our heads down again for a couple of hours before breaking camp, scoffing breakfast and getting back on the trail towards Refugio Central and our bus back to Puerto Natales. It was a relatively easy 6km during which we walked against a lot of foot traffic. Most day hikers come to the park just to see Los Torres so we were going the opposite way to everyone else. We were most surprised by the lack of common sense in terms of clothing and gear people had. Some people were in city style shoes, with no warm clothing or food, and just carrying a small bottle of water. In a place where the weather can change in seconds, we thought it was both stupid and irresponsible. We also had to tell someone off for smoking in the park. They’ve had horrific wildfires in recent times, all caused by human stupidity (the worst one as a result of someone burning their loo roll which then set the nearby bushes on fire, and then spread to thousands of acres). He seemed not to care but we gave him a good telling off.

Finally the trail turned into a decent gravel road and before we knew it we were at the final Refugio, where we put our feet up and enjoyed our first beer in almost a week. We also scoffed down all our remaining snacks before jumping onto the bus back to PN. Almost immediately everyone was in the land of nod, us included, and we awoke as we were arriving back into the town. Los Torres had been an absolutely amazing experience, despite the weather throwing everything it had at us over the 5 days. Hoff even admitted that she’d consider a camping trip once we get back to the UK, so she must have enjoyed it too!

Up next – we take a day trip to a huge glacier and then head north to El Chalten, the hiking capital of Argentinian Patagonia!

When Hoff left you, we had just settled in for our second night in our tent. We awoke the next morning ready for a long day of hiking – our longest in fact – so we got up a bit earlier than usual and grabbed a spot in the tiny Refugio to cook breakfast. We still hadn’t quite got the baby food breakfast consistency perfect – today’s was a bit too chunky – but we did add some chocolate pieces which were a good twist. As we were finishing up and making our thermos of tea for the road, the heavens opened so we donned our waterproof jackets (now always stored on the outside of our bags for quick access) and plodded on into the rain. Luckily it was only a squall, as we were beginning to realise most rain was during the day at this time of the year, and soon we were taking off our coats again as we began the cheeky climb back over the hills towards Paine Grande once more.

As soon as we had taken off our jackets, we were putting them back on again as the wind on the ridge was biting. However, it was blowing us along from behind for a change so we made quick progress and once we dropped down into the valley approaching our first campsite, the weather warmed and the sun even threatened to come out. We reached the Refugio in good time and decided to stop and have a snack and recharge our watches. We were on a tight time schedule though as we wanted to be back out in the trail again before the 1100 boat arrived with a load of new walkers, so we wolfed our snacks and, with charged watches and tightened boots, we set off again heading north west towards our next campsite.

Five minutes into our next leg and the path began to climb. We’d been expecting a relatively flat route based on reports from other hikers but again it turned out that we needed to schlep out of the valley and into the next one. As we ascended the wind picked up, the sun disappeared and the rain came down in buckets, and sideways too. Before we knew it our legs were soaked – we didn’t even have time to get out our waterproof trousers – but it was just another passing shower (albeit a heavy one) and soon we could see and feel the sunshine breaking through again (Patagonia is the only place we have regularly experienced freezing wind, roaring sunshine and slashing rain all at the same time – it can be pouring water from blue skies above, which is very weird). Our legs dried in minutes and luckily the weather held for the rest of our walk.

Another wonderful thing about hiking here is the variety of terrain and vistas. Yesterday we’d been walking along rocky ridge lines overlooking huge iceberg filled lagoons and glacial fields. Today we were in the greener grasslands, with the trail winding its way through wooded areas right down to pebble beaches and then into muddy, gorse heathland. To our left were huge snow covered mountains, granite monsters rising almost vertically straight out of the ground, and to our right were Norwegian style fjords as far as the eye could see. One minute you would be surrounded by two metre high bushes and unable to see anything, the next you would be cresting a short sharp climb to be treated with magnificent views running miles to the horizon. To add to all of this, the sun finally came out properly so we were able to walk in our t shirts and our trousers dried out, and it was a thoroughly pleasant stroll. We filled up our water carriers from a mountain stream and enjoyed the freezing cold water as we walked the final few kilometres to our next stop, Camp Italiano.

When we got there, after 18 or so kms and 6 hours on the trail, we immediately went in to bag a spot before it got too crowded. Italiano is one of the few free campsites in the park and it has very limited facilities as a result. The loos were the long drop type (if you know what I mean), there were no showers or washing facilities (just a stream), water was direct from the source (not a tap) and there was no shop to stock up on supplies. The cooking areas were also very small. However, it was free and we bagged a good spot for our little tent, so we couldn’t really complain. Once we’d made camp we set off to climb the 5 km up to the Britanico view point. We’d seen that the trail had officially closed at 1pm however the campsite ranger said that it was still ok to walk up, so we set off on the climb, this time just carrying a small bag between us for water and snacks (which was a nice change from our heavy back packs).

The climb was quite challenging as we had to navigate through and over streams, around big boulders, and across rocky fields laced with muddy, boggy areas. Hoff led the way, picking the best route, and we zipped up the hill in quick time. As we reached the top, the wind began to pick up and it started snowing – we were in Patagonia after all – but the views were amazing.

We were surrounded on three sides by huge rocky peaks, and looking back down the valley we had walked up we could see a bright turquoise glacial lake. It was beautiful. We took a few photos and then decided to head back down. We were both getting hungry and the wind was rising, and the thought of a nice hot chocolate and our sleeping bags was too good a draw. The way back down was hard work and took just as long as the climb, and with sore knees and rumbling stomachs we got back into camp around 7pm. We quickly got the stove on and were munching down our noodles in no time, with Hoff shuttling back and forth to the river to fetch us fresh water as I tended to the stove. We took a big thermos of hot chocolate back to the tent and nestled into our sleeping bags, ready for a well deserved night of kip after a long day of trekking.

I was lovely and comfortable. I’d finally got nice and warm – tricky in an old sleeping bag (Hoff and I had swapped sleeping bags for the trip. She was in my nice, new down-filled one, and I was in hers, which, whilst small and lightweight, has sadly lost some of its thermal properties in the 15 years or so since it was initially manufactured). I’d also found a position that was nice to sleep in (my sleeping mat has also seen better days and I suspect left most of its comfyness in the Sahara desert). I was a little annoyed then to be woken up at 2am by Hoff telling me that she needed a wee and was too scared to go outside on her own. Her fear was that a puma might come and eat her. I did the manly thing of tightening my sleeping bag around me and telling her to get on with it, which she did, but it took her twenty minutes, by which time I was wide awake and very grumpy. Luckily I fell back to sleep again and it seemed like minutes later that the alarm was going off.

Today we were heading to Chileno, the last camp on our trek but also the most expensive. We’d heard good things and were looking forward to a nice shower. We packed up the tent in rapid time and headed off to the next campsite on the trail, Frances, only two kilometres away. They had showers and flushing loos, but it came at a price, hence we had roughed it at Italiano. At Frances we cooked breakfast – our nicest yet (Hoff had the brainwave to mix some left over raisin granola into the baby food and we also got the consistency just right, so it was actually nice as opposed to just being edible) – and we did our teeth, made a thermos of coffee (ruining three filters in the process and leaving half the grounds in the coffee itself so that later we had to chew, rather than drink it) and got on the road.

The trail to Chileno was just as beautiful as the day before. The hills were rolling, the vistas magnificent, and the streams as clear and refreshing. We had about 16km to cover and we stopped every hour or so to have a snack and a sip of warm brew. Eventually the track split and we headed north east towards the campsite. Here the countryside changed again and we were soon walking through alpine meadows, complete with long grass waving in the wind and thousands of flowers dotted here and there. It really could have been a scene from the Austrian alps, with the mountains rising in the background. We successfully navigated two very boggy sections with only mildly moist feet before we stopped for lunch – the usual salami and cheese on a pita bread (definitely a combo we will use in the future). It was lovely weather and we basked in the sunshine, enjoying the views.

It was only when i tried to get up that I realised that I had a small problem. The 75 or so kilometres we had already got under our belt had taken their toll on my knees, and my right one had swelled up magnificently. It took a while to get going but seeing as it wasn’t painful I soldiered on, hoping that combination of ibruprofen and elevation that night would sort it out. To take our minds off the now straight uphill climb, Hoff and I decided it was a good time to rank our favourite chocolate bars. Having both agreed that Cadbury’s was number one for us both, we moved in to bagged sweets, favourite roast, favourite vegetables, puddings, etc, etc. We continued until we could salivate no longer and mentally made a shopping list that we agreed we’d send in home in advance to make sure the fridges were full for when we got back with everything from Daim bars to roast chicken, bread sauce, trifle, sticky toffee pudding, and mint chocolate ice cream (to name but a few of the things we are missing). Lindy and Caro – full lists to follow!

Up next – we reach Chileno (spoiler alert, sorry) and get ready for our night hike.

After our rather quiet New Year’s Eve we had an early start (what a change!) and got the bus headed for Puerto Natales which is South and back across the border into Argentina again. We were going to be doing the W Trek in Torres del Paine National Park. After a long journey mainly due to the wait at the border control for all the buses to go through we made it to PN. Our original plan had been to arrive on 2 Jan and so we had had to book a last minute place in a hostel for tonight as our next one was full. On arriving at the hostel we thought it was closed. The curtains were closed and no sign on the door. A good start….! However. a man appeared at the doorway and assured us it was indeed a hostel! He turned out to be the most helpful hostel person on our trip to date. We dumped our stuff and headed into town for lasagne! Delish. We walked around the town which had a huge lake attached it giving it a coastal vibe before heading back to the hostel for super noodles and a night in the worlds smallest bunk beds.

The next day we checked into our second hostel and were presented with a hut in the garden. It was one of a few huts. I laughed when the guy said it was a double bed. It was barely big enough to be a single bed! It was clear from his reaction that in his mind it was a double and therefore we had to deal with it. The town is full of hiking shops and so we headed to buy the gas for our camping stove and pick up some supplies from the supermarket. The most important being chocolate! The couple of squares of ‘Golden-Nuss’ choccie turned out to be one of the highlights of our day!! We had read about a briefing on the W trek (which is the route we were taking) and so decided to pop along. A good decision as it was very useful. We picked up some sachets of hot chocolate too which were also to become invaluable. Chocolate became very important during the 5 days of camping!

Whilst in the USA we noticed that supermarkets were very well stocked with dehydrated food for camping etc. We had hoped that in one of the most popular hiking places in the world the shops would have every yummy meal available. Wrong. There was nothing. Alex and I felt a business idea coming on! So our meals consisted of porridge for babies (honey flavour), pittas with salami and cheese (incredible) and then cup-a-soup and noodles for dinner. Oh. And chocolate, amazing coconut biscuits and gummy bears. Our diet was lacking a lot of nutrition but we didn’t really have a choice.

After sleeping like pencils so as to fit in the bed, our bags were packed and the rain was hammering down. Nightmare. The bus to the park was a couple of hours and we then had a 90 minute wait for the ferry to take us the 30 minute journey to our starting point and first campsite. I’m sure the ferry is lovely but we didn’t see a thing as the windows all fogged up. The first campsite was right next to the ferry drop off so when there was a lull in the rain we rapidly put the tent up. We tried to pick a sheltered spot but the wind seemed to be coming from all directions. There was a tiny tent near us that the wind just glided over it. The owner of the tent looked like Bear Grylls and we ended up seeing Bear for the next 5 days! No idea what his name is but to us he was Bear! That afternoon the sun came out and we walked along the lake which was nice. We were surrounded by snow topped mountains. That evening we cooked the first of our soups and noodles. A table of Americans next to us had curry and all sorts of amazing looking dehydrated packs. I even heard one of them ‘I probably won’t be able to finish this’! I nearly asked for him to hand it over as we would have it! Alex and I had also made the decision on NYE that we wouldn’t have any alcohol from 1 jan until we finished the trek on 7th Jan. Whilst in the kitchen area we had to endure the popping of beer cans and wine corks. It tested our will power but we didn’t cave!

That night the rain and wind lashed down on our tent. Alex nobly gave me his sleeping bag as mine is for basically tropical climates! I was still freezing. So in the morning with a rubbish night sleep we weren’t really looking forward to a day of walking. But the rain eventually stopped. Hooray. We had our first taste of the baby porridge today. Babies eat rank food. It had no flavour or texture but we didn’t have an alternative. We added some chocolate to it which made it slightly more bearable. We shared an apple to at least attempt having some fruit.

The way to Grey campsite was a battle against the wind. At one point it was so strong we almost got knocked over. The main sight on this walk is Grey Glacier. It’s enormous. There were also are massive icebergs floating around the lake. After a quick lunch break we walked towards the glacier and over some hanging bridges which were higher than we had thought! They certainly had a good wobble on them! That night we had a repetition of dinner and with the rain and wind staying away we hoped we would get a good night’s kip.

At the end of our last post, Boxing Day had just pulled an absolute blinder and saved our Christmas spirits with a cracking meal at Don Julio. We awoke the next day absolutely starving, as is often the weird way after a large meal the night before. After another breakfast downstairs, we packed up all our things, said goodbye to the mega king sized bed, and jumped in a taxi to move to our air bnb that would be our home for our remaining time in BA. After a bit of luck and some seriously weird WiFi magic (with my phone miraculously finding some WiFi out of nowhere which allowed us to contact our BnB host) we settled into our new gaff, did about four loads of washing, and then walked into town to try and find Hoff a replacement guidebook for the one she’d lost during the salt flats. Despite a search of numerous English bookshops we couldn’t find anything useful so we wandered around the park before heading back to our old hotel to have lunch (long story short – they felt bad for messing up Christmas breakfast so gave us a voucher to use). After having breakfast for lunch (weirdly they only let us have the breakfast menu despite it being 2pm, but we were saving ourselves for take two of the tango show, so it wasn’t a big deal) we walked to couple of km back to the apartment.

Once back at the apartment we showered, put on yet another load of washing and then hailed a cab to take us back to the tango show. Thankfully this time it was open and we were shown to a table right next to the stage. The waiter wasted no time in bringing us a glass of sherry (of all things) and soon we were chowing down on steak two of the last twenty four hours. For a free meal it was excellent and once we had finished, the tango show began. The music was not quite what we had expected – think jazz accordion mixed with electric synth – but it sort of worked, and the dancing was excellent. Our waiter even brought us over a free bottle of wine as the evening went on, so by the time it had all finished we’d basically forgotten about the Christmas Day fiasco and had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We again used the WiFi from the restaurant opposite to grab a taxi home, where we hung up the last of our washing and basked in the cool air conditioned air, most content.

When we first arrived in BA, Hoff kept mentioning someone called Evita (something to do with ABBA, or so I initially thought) and was keen to go to the museum about her life. Therefore the next day we walked a couple of km to a house that had once been one of Eva Peron’s hostels for disadvantaged women, and looked around the museum. It was quite interesting and without going into too much detail, it was weird to see how much good she appeared to have achieved in her short life despite the rather negative view the world has about her husband (the former president with a rather questionable human rights track record). We then wandered around the local zoological gardens where we felt very sorry for the camels and llamas all penned in into tiny enclosures, before walking back to the flat. That evening we treated ourselves to an amazing burger at a nearby burger joint before watching the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special (thank goodness for VPNs!). We went to bed discussing the pros and cons of them doing another series (on balance we agreed that they should do it, if anyone is interested).

The 30th December was our last day in BA and Hoff was keen that we go to the other end of the city to see the bird garden. When we got there it was pretty hard to find (finding a big patch of green space in a city was tough) and when we finally worked out where it was, it seemed to be closed, so in the end we wandered through a memorial dedicated to ‘the missing’, the 300,000 plus people who disappeared as a result of Argentinian government purges (aka indiscriminate murdering) in the 70s and 80s. We then worked our way back towards the city centre, stopping off to have lunch next to a lake before we got a taxi (we were bored of walking by this point and in need of some air con) to the main cemetery. Although it might seem weird to most westerners, visiting cemeteries is a big tourist thing to do in South America and we’d heard that the main one in BA was a ‘must see’. Despite our reservations we went in and saw Evita’s grave, but got creeped out by the rest of the place so left shorty afterwards. On the way back to the bnb we stopped off for a well needed lager shandy, and after some packing ahead of our flight south the next day, went out for dinner about an absolutely amazing Mexican place, where we toasted our time in BA over burritos and mojitos. We had enjoyed our time in the city but, being country types, we were ready to move on to a place with less people and cleaner air!

The following morning we were up early to get to the airport for our flight. It was a three hour ‘hop’ down to El Calafate (and we weren’t even going the length of the country, which shows how big Argentina really is). Grabbing our bags the other end, we were startled to see a fellow passenger collect her dog from the the baggage carousel and proceed to carry it in a Baby Bjorne-style harness. It was very bizarre but we didn’t have time to stare as we jumped into our bus and arrived at our hostel in the town. Dropping our bags off, we quickly headed down to the Main Street to scope out the options for later that evening and to get some supplies (I.e. champagne for NY). Back at our hostel we decided to open said champagne and watch a Top Gear, only to discover that it was in fact a local cider, much to my amusement and Hoff’s annoyance (she’s not a massive cider fan).

We finally got hungry and walked into town, thinking we’d have heaps of places to choose from. How wrong we were. Everywhere was reservation only, and those places that did have space were asking for $120 USD a head. We eventually found a place doing cheapish beer and amazing pulled pork sandwiches (we got in just before they closed – winning) before walking back to our hostel where we saw in the new year over a glass of the remaining cider (#notwinningsomuch). 2019 had been a massive year for us – what with us getting married, leaving our jobs, packing up our lovely flat in London and heading off on our big trip – but 2020 had lots in store for us already, so we fell asleep, dreaming of the hiking that lay ahead of us.

Up next – Hoff takes you through the first part of our W trek.

The wheels touched down after our short flight from Iguazu and we were soon in a taxi on our way to our apartment. As Hoff mentioned, we were running behind time as our flight was moved without us knowing, so we were in a rush to get checked in and get to a supermarket before they all closed for Christmas Eve. We had grand visions of cooking ourselves a huge slap up meal with all the trimmings and were positively salivating as we wound our way through the emptying streets towards Palermo, the area of BA we were staying in. On the way we made a quick detour to go via the money transfer place where we’d arranged for some local currency to be sent. As Hoff touched upon in her last post, the Argentinian currency market is crazy with multiple different rates being available at any one time (the bank rate, the official rate, the ‘blue’ market rate etc.), so we’d planned ahead and secured a decent rate with a special service from the UK. However, when we arrived, the shop was closed so we persuaded the driver to take us to our hotel. Once we checked in, we rushed out to try and get to the supermarkets, but we missed them by just a few minutes. Everywhere was closed apart from the local Asian market across the street and our dreams of a grand Christmas meal were shattered.

We found what we could from the limited options on the shelves and went back to our apartment a little dejected, where we cooked ourselves a slightly sad risotto which we washed down with Argentinian fizz and red wine. The booze took the edge off things and soon Hoff was wearing her Christmas hat and we were looking out over the BA skyline, listening to the city count down to Christmas Day. As the clock struck twelve, there was a massive cheer from what sounded like every apartment in the area and soon after the fireworks kicked off. It was a lovely warm evening and we sat outside enjoying the ambience and sipping on our red wine, before we finally got too tired to stay up any more, so retired to our huge bed, wished each other a Happy Christmas and fell asleep to the whirr of the air conditioner.

We woke up on Christmas Day and were at a bit of a loss as to what we should do. Normally in England we’d have been with one of our families and would start the day next to the fire, opening our stockings with a glass of champagne in hand. Whilst we didn’t have the stockings this year, it was warm enough in our room to pretend we had a fire and we also had a glass of home made Buck’s Fizz. We then wandered down to breakfast to find that there was no breakfast! The cafe attached to the apartments, which provided the food for guests, was, surprise surprise, closed. This wasn’t an ideal way to kick off the day so we had to wander around the local area until we found a hotel that was doing food. It wasn’t the most memorable of Christmas morning feeds but it did the job, and we popped back into the apartment to put on the smartest clothes we had with us (which weren’t overly smart but would have to do) before walking to a local church. We were warmly welcomed and Hoff even got invited to be part of the service (which she politely declined seeing as the whole thing was in Spanish). It was a very pretty church and despite not understanding much of what was going on, we got the gist of it and felt part of the team. Hoff even got a goodbye hug and kiss from the priest (as did all the women). I got a handshake (I have to say I was preparing myself for more, as the Argentinians are pretty French about meeting and greeting!) and we wished everyone Feliz Navidad before heading off.

After church we power walked back to the apartment as we both needed a wee after all the morning’s fizz and then settled in to an afternoon of very little as we were preparing ourselves for the tango show we had booked. We thought it would be fun to do something very Argentinian on Christmas Day so we booked the show in advance, and in preparation deliberately didn’t eat much and, apart from a quick gym session, relaxed and watched some English TV on Hoff’s iPad. Before we knew it we were in a taxi on our way to the show. On the way I told Hoff that I had a funny feeling that things might not go to plan. Call it intuition or a sixth sense, but as we pulled up at the venue, it looked ominously dark and we could see chairs stacked on tables. It certainly didn’t look like somewhere about to host one of BA’s top tango nights!

We peered in through the doors and were joined by an elderly gentlemen doing the same thing. The one person moving around inside made the internationally recognised ‘were closed’ gesture (waving his hands over each other whilst shaking his head at us) and the other punter stood outside with us soon confirmed that the place was locked up for the night, having spoken to the tour agent on the phone. For us it was a bit of a sad end to what had been a pretty tame Christmas – no Christmas lunch, no presents and now no tango show was all a bit much, and we felt pretty miffed as we walked across the road to borrow a local restaurant’s WiFi to call a taxi to get home. We did feel bad for the other guy as he had brought his whole family out with him to watch the show and we saw them looking a bit dejected as we got our uber home. As we arrived back at the apartment we quickly got on the phone to our tour agent and he apologised profusely. To be fair to him it wasn’t his fault and he quickly sorted us out with another date in a few days time, complete with a three course meal by way of apology. We drowned our sorrows with some more red wine, ate the remainder of some cheese and biscuits we’d been saving for a rainy day (it had been grey all day and might as well have been raining), and went to bed watching an old school action movie dubbed over into Spanish. What a treat!

After our disastrous Christmas Day we were in need of some cheering up so Boxing Day had a lot riding on it. The weather was beautiful so after breakfast – the downstairs cafe was finally open – we walked to collect our Pesos, then wandered around the local area before heading back to the apartment to catch some rays by the pool. After another gym session – making the most of the facilities, so they say – we went and got ready to head out to Don Julio. We’d heard great things about this steak restaurant and Hoff had even sent one of our friends, Jonny, as a guinea pig to test it out when he was in BA a few months before us. He raved about it so we were expecting good things. From the moment we arrived and were handed a free glass of fizz to the moment we put our cutlery down, stuffed to the brim with delicious steak, it was completely amazing and exactly what we needed to lift our spirits. We’d had a seat by the bar where we could watch the chefs cook the steaks on a huge grill and it was an awesome sight to behold. Even though Hoff had succeeded in persuading me that my eyes were in fact bigger than my stomach and that we didn’t need a huge steak each (one between two was plenty) we still rolled home with a doggy bag of leftovers for the next day. #winning!