CHILE, Santiago/Valpariso, Saturday 25th August

South America, what have a learned so far? Well all those Spanish lessons weren't for nothing, Pisco Sours are delicious, Chilean buses are very luxurious and when the Lonely Planet warns me that I might get mugged I ought to listen...

I'm not sure if being mugged by 10 year olds makes it better or worse. Obviously it doesn't do much for the old pride but 20 year olds might have made more of an impact, so to speak.
It was a miserable rainy day in Santiago so I thought I'd try out the weather in Valpariso. The town is a humming port and also generally accepted as the cultural capital of Chile. Most of its buildings are heritage listed and it came highly recommended by guide books and fellow travellers so I went to check it out.
As soon as we left the valley in which Santiago sits, the clouds lifted and sun shone. We drove along through valleys between the foothills of the Andes, past huge vineyards and arrived in Valpariso 2 hours later. Easy peasy.
Whilst sipping a cafe con leche and watching people bustling about on the docks I consulted my good friend the Lonely Planet which suggested a circular walk that took in the best sights. As some of you may know, the Lonely Planet is an indispensable guide but their maps leave much to be desired.
I huffed and puffed my way up several steep hills away from the crowds and down pretty, if scruffy, cobbled streets lined with shabby houses painted bright colours. There were some good views of the harbour, the weather was beautiful and all was well with the world. After a time though I began to feel I'd wandered a little off pist. There were no cars whistling at me any longer - yes their cars actually have a horn that wolf whistles, very clever - and not many people either. Hmmm. A young guy approached me and said in broken English
'Please, round here much steal, be careful.' Yes yes I know that's what everyone's told me, I'm not stupid, I thought, thanked him, turned a corner and bash! 3 kids hurled themselves at me. I was on a fairly steep hill and they had me over pretty easily. A grim tug of war ensued over my camera, which was strapped to me. They won leaving me sitting on the road forlornly clutching the strap that I had wrapped around my hand in the struggle. I was less than impressed, as you can imagine but my only thought really was that I still had my bag and I suspected I was in an area where the saying 'lightning never strikes the same place twice' rule did not apply. I hot-footed it back down the main road to the harbour, took a steep lift up to another gorgeous part of town and licked my wounds in a friendly cafe. I felt a little shaken and extremely foolish.
I spent the rest of the day pottering around this safer, more touristy area. Neat, cheerfully painted little houses, steep cobbled streets, I would up load some photos but, well...
So there is my wake up call I guess. Day 3, pretty impressive, well done Kate. Still, I've learned my lesson and promise to be much more careful from now on.

Mugging aside though I am having a great time here in Chile so far. Santiago is a nice town, especially the Barrio Brazil where I am staying, lots of old colonial mansions, slightly derelict but picturesquely so, friendly little cafes full of locals and some buzzy bars.
I climbed the Convent-come-Military Bastion: Cerro Santa Lucia, which winds its way in a chaotic manner past the neo-classical Terrazzo Neptune (fountains a-squirting), along crenulated archways and up steep steps cut into the rock, right up to the pinnacle on which sits a rather sombre church and any number of courting couples lurking in grottos and between rocks. The view ought to be spectacular, being the highest point in Santiago, but the smog blocked out anything that might have resembled a mountain and merely gave a view of Santiago´s uninteresting skyline. I picked my way down around the lovers and teenage pot smokers and left them to it.
Yesterday a fellow backpacker and I went to have a look at what Santiago had to offer in the way of its art collection. Housed in a very grand building are some bored-looking Spanish colonial ladies and, as promised by the Lonely Planet, some bleak landscapes and a whole load of contemporary stuff which was lost on us as we really needed to be able to read the explanations. Still, it was fun poking around and having a good guess.
I had my 1st South American steak at a fantastic local restaurant, full to bursting with gabbling chileans slurping yummy wine and eating steak that bled satifactoraly all over the plates. Huge chunks of meat! I look forward to more of that...
Two of my companions were very keen to, ahem, ´commune´ with the locals and so the rest of went along for the ride and followed pretty Chilean girls to Santiago hotspots where we danced until the early hours to latin beats.

Today a had a fantastic flight over the Andes, cloudless skys and breathtaking views of snowy peaks. And now I´m in Buenos Aries and it is cold and wet. I celebrated my arrival by finding a hostel, curling up in bed and watching Harry Potter. Not formost on the ´to do´ list for Buenos Aries I know but I am still sleep deprived due to jet lag and not keen to catch a cold just before Posy joins me.

Tomorrow I suppose I´d better go shopping for a new camera...

CHILE, Santiago, Wednesday 22nd August

So goodbye Australia and Buenos Dias LAN Air. Well, eventually. I was delayed for 3 hours. Between avoiding the advances of a persistent Philippino Film maker I found myself a quite corner and began to ponder on past and future adventures. 6 months into my travels, eek! That is worth pause for reflection I think...

Ok so camel riding in the Rajasthan desert, the Taj Mahal, I've been painted bright pink with 'playing Holi', stayed with Burmese hill tribes in the north of Thailand, boated, floated and swam down the Mekong, taught Cambodian children who to read 'The Flopsy Bunnies', sped around the highlands of Vietnam on the back of a honda and drunk rice wine with a village chief, I've danced the sun up on a beach covered in glow paint, seen an opera at the Sydney Opera House, chased a dingo (kinda) and cuddled a koala... It is really hard to imagine how I can top all that.

Well, finally we took off and landed a few hour later in Auckland where I wandered around inspecting numerous sheep-themed merchandise before re-boarding the plane for my longest flight yet. As if to set the scene my neighbour introduced himself and announced that he was a part of a dancing troupe touring the world performing, you've guessed it, the Argentinean Tango. Very appropriate. I was bourne into Santiago discussing Tango lessons in Buenos Aires and writer Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The scene for my South American adventure has been rather well set...

Once we landed, bemused and travel weary, we were bustled about taken to cash points and sorted into minivans where a cheerful driver handed out sweets and drove us to through the industrial clutter of the outer burbs, river lined with piles of rubbish, snow capped mountains appearing faintly through the smog on either side, into Santiago. We passed through narrow cobbled streets lined with Spanish colonial mansions, pizzas with parks and playgrounds and I began to feel that I was very much back in Europe. Much closer to home, in one way and in another even further removed. I find myself in a country where English is not the language of choice and I am a little uncertain of how and where to start. Having said that, when sitting in a little cafe drinking cafe con leche served to me by a moustached and smiling waiter, bouncy latino pop music thumping in the background I can't help feeling pleased to be here. So far, me gustsa.

AUSTRALIA, Melbourne (see entry below for Sydney and the Blue Mountains)

If, like Charley, you are searching for some confirmation that you are in Australia and haven't, after 2 months in Asia, done a full circle and come back to England, Melbourne might not be the place to come. Especially in winter.
When I was suffering from similar concerns in Sydney, I was able to round a corner and come face to face with the Harbour or Opera House, which was reassuring. In Melbourne it is harder. There are no 'postcard' landmarks to remind you where you are. As you pull your coat round you, glance up at the grey sky and dive into a welcoming looking pub, complete with roaring fire, it can be tricky to convince yourself that you are anywhere other than England.
I do not mean this as a criticism by any means, merely an observation. I think Melbourne is a great city. It is not as picturesque as Sydney and does not have any 'show-stoppers' like the Opera House but it is a pleasing city to explore. It offers plenty of little bohemian nooks, crammed full of funky cafes, bars, vintage clothes shops and galleries, all pleasantly casual and some nicely scruffy. I can sit on a slightly fraying sofa in a cosy cafe, walls adorned with flyers for music gigs, fringe theater and alternative therapies, drinking good coffee and eating delicious food without parting with very much money. I can sit for hours over the same cup of tea without anyone batting an eyelid.
Generally the whole place feels much more laid back, just not so different from London. It even has its Arts Centre spread along South Bank...

In order to pinch myself, and reassert the ozziness of my location, I booked myself onto a 'Melbourne must' a trip along the Great Ocean Road.
At 7.30am I was scooped into a minibus by a very cheerful guide called Chris who enthusiastically welcomed us all abored and chatted merrily as he bore us West out of Melbourne.
We had a fantastic day, which seemed as long as 3 by the time I was deposited back at my hostel at 9.00 that night. Our first stop was morning coffee at Bells Beach, a world famous surfing mecca, supposedly featured in the film 'Point Break'(although actually filmed elsewhere). With the wind ripping around us we hugged our tea and marvelled at the surfers, tiny black specs amongst the swells being flipped about like bath toys, and wondered at their sanity.
A quick stop at the lighthouse where children's TV show 'Round the Twist' was filmed (some of you may remember it) and off onto the Great Ocean Road. It is a spectacular drive which winds its hair-pin way along the coast, up along cliffs and aside beautiful unspoiled bays, lined with steep green hillsides. Stunning.
We stopped for lunch at a little caravan park cafe where Chris said he'd eat his glasses if we didn't see any wild koalas. He was right. Up in the trees all around the site where little grey lumps of fur, mostly fast asleep. I was rather disappointed to have my rumour that they are constantly drunk on eucalyptus and sleepin it off (occasionally falling gout of a tree and killing someone as a result of their stupor) quashed. The boring fact is that the leaves they eat are so indigestible that they are forced to sleep for 20 hours a day in order for their bodies to break down the fibres of their diet. So to catch one awake is pretty lucky, to catch up away with a baby even luckier. We were lucky on both counts. Awwww
After lunch we drove inland and up into the rain forest where Chris took us for a walk through a lattice-work of prehistoric tree ferns, criss-crossing above our heads as we scuttled along the forest floor quietly fearful we may disturb a nearby snoozing TRex, or at least I was.
We all dozed for an hour on the bus while the tireless Chris drove, awakening us by giving us a history of The 12 Apostles.
The 12 Apostles are large rock stacks in the ocean. There were 12 but since then 3 have collapsed. They had originally been named 'The Sow and her Piglets' but the tourist board did not deem this name suitable for a popular tourist attraction and so they remaned it The 12 Apostles. The name has no religious reasons as such and, considering the unstable nature of the rocks, to call them The 12 Apostles leaves them potentially liable to claims of false advertising. I think the 1st name was better, if rather unromantic.
Anyway, none of it matter really because they were just a dramatically beautiful as all the guide books promised. The early evening light was just behind them, the turbulent water thundered beneath them and the effect was satisfactory to say the least.
We had one last stop to a shipwreck cove, the coastline around that stretch is extremely perilous and not one to sail around on a dark night... and then it was the 2 hour drive back to Melbourne. Few. Chris put a film on for us and chirpily dropped us off at our various hostels where we all came to rest exhausted.
The rest of my time in Melbourne past all too quickly hangin' out with Charley and before I knew it I was back on the 12 hour bus to Sydney where I received yet another lovely warm welcome from Roger and Co. My room waiting for me again. It will be hard to leave but I am looking forward to it too.
Next stop: South America!