Buenos Aires, You Win.

Buenos Aires should be world famous for it´s traffic.

It´s literally incessant. Somebody signalling their displeasure at the driving / reckless endangerment of another by the use of their automobile´s klaxon becomes a carnival affair. Quickly, other "drivers" get in on the act and the polluted air of Malos Aires is filled by yet another type of car exhaust.

Other things you´ll notice in this city, where the guide book advises walking around like you´re prepared to kick the ass off of anyone who comes near you, is the sidewalk litter being constantly sorted by those who the devaluation of the peso in 2001 hit hardest.

There isn´t much begging going in Buenos Aires, people just get down to it and do what they need to survive. It´s a multi-layered society, from the amazing riches of La Recoleta to the poverty of La Boca.

Passion however, is something all the Portenos (residents of BA) share...

I´ll be back to Buenos Aires twice more before my time in Argentina is up, for the moment it is off to Rosario. Birthplace of Che Guevara, for some death tourism, rest, relaxation and importantly, laundry.

Then back to BA and off to Patagonia on the 4th April.

I´ll return to BA on the 15th, from Ushuia.

That´s all for now kids.

The Worst Dorm Room in the World... EVAR.

The Milford Hostel in Buenos Aires is, unfortunately, a party hostel.

And combine that with some of the most inconsiderate roommates I´ve come across in the entirety of this trip, a pretty sleepless night was on the cards.

What can you do?

It´ll be a case of, if you can´t beat them, join´em, tonight.

Two more nights certainly in store in BA for the time being. A walking tour of La Ricoleta (City of the Dead) and the Evita legend was thoroughly enjoyed today and I might get to do some more sightseeing tomorrow despite having to desperately plot my escape to either Rosario or Ushuia. Still unsure of the order of things and what I really want to see before the 17th April.

Some options include Antartica.

I don´t think that will happen however, perhaps a final weekend in Buenos Aires and a football match.

But then again...

I still think we're serious

The aftermath of Santiago continues.

"Hola" is probably the most dangerous word in the entire lexicon of humanity.

There isn't a great deal to do in Santiago but the Bellavista Hostel was pretty good from a general atmosphere point of view. Relaxed, but heavy going if you wanted it.

Valparaiso was supposed to happen on Saturday night but didn't due to Friday night's exertions. Small matter, as reviews of what surrounds Santiago were mixed to say the least.

Typical exchanges with locals went something along the following lines.

Local: "Are you Chilean?"

Our Hero privately ruminating: "You're kidding me."

Local: "What do you think of Pinochet?"

Our Hero once again: "You've got be kidding me."

Local: "10,000 pesos is not alot of money."

Our Hero: "Oh shit. You're not kidding me."

It's a little bit predatory in Santiago. Some people just look at Gringos {Western tourists, backpackers, etc.}, and quite clearly all they are seeing is money.

I managed pretty well on the bargaining for the Taxi fare to the Hostel from the airport. The scrum at the airport on arrival is more than a little daunting, though I presume Caracas will be even more intimidating.

I took trips up the two lookout points of the city despite hawkers at the bottom of Cerrar Santa Lucia trying to convince me that it was closed (it fucking wasn´t) and trying to send me back to Pia Nono and Bellavista.

The second trip, to see a statue of the Virgin Mary on a hill overlooking the city, was enjoyed in the company of Claire from Brisbane. We managed to lose the trail early on and had to take the extreme sports express to the top. Still, we made it in the end and then took the wild cable car ride down.

The door doesn´t close, it really takes off at pace and you´re scraping trees all the way. Not for the faint hearted.

Then we strolled back to Bellavista. The Chilean walk is something fricking hilarious however, or at least in Santiago. They go so slowly, that you´re practically tripping over the person in front. Funnily enough this is completely contrasted with their driving habits. Put them behind a wheel and they drive like fricking maniacs. However driving in Buenos Aires is a thousand times worse, it´s like playing a computer game the way we weaved in and out of traffic, nearly coming to serious grief on about three seperate occasions but seatbelt on chest, I was laughing this time.

On the last night in Chile, I stayed up with a few others, pretty convinced that if I took to my bed I´d miss the transfer to the airport. We watched the sun appear over Santiago, this sprawling city of six million, whilst jamming on the Hostel guitar.

Ended on a bad note in the Hostel actually as they charged me again for a night´s accommodation I pretty much didn´t even use. I should have realised the Chilean obsession with tiny strips of paper for inconsequential purchases has it´s roots in a fairly inefficient, or downright corrupt, approach to administration.

Still, as they say in Chile: "10,000 pesos is not a lot of money"

At least that´s what you said.

More to come later, as broken Spanish keyboards permit.

Current Listenin´

Wilco - "At Least That´s What You Said" from their Live CD: Kicking Television

Hola Chile!

Yo.

5 seconds in and you´re thinking: "Chile... Where the fuck are your seatbelts!!!"

So, I´m pretty sure bribes were taken to get me to the Bellavista Hostel (No.1 Hostel in South America, 2005) but the fact that seat belts are considered an optional extra in latin america is more disturbing than I´m prepared to allow.

Footpaths!

What is up with your footpaths Chile???

Level ground is obviously a challenge!!!

Anyway... I had much more wisdom to spread than this earlier... I´m not sure what happened but I´ve just turned into the superintendent for this hostel... So, it´s probably time to go to bed...

There are "cute as" girls here... Take your pick... Chilean, Canadian... Whatever...

I was going to say I´m sick of them... Would that be admitting defeat???

Right now, I miss certain people... But there are others who compensate...

Half time, 2-1 down

Morning all, Evening all.

Time is but an arbitrary concept to the hardened backpacker, as meaningless as days of the week versus weekends.

Tonight, I face into another gruelling 16 or so hours of airport-airplane-airport-airplane existence before arriving very much in unfamiliar territory. The time difference in Santiago is eight hours ahead of Wellington, but it's very much a case of the Paula Abdul's (2 steps forward, 1 step back) as I'm heading back to Sydney first (-2 hours), then to Auckland (+2 hours) and finally onto Santiago (+8 hours).

So with time up in the South East Pacific, this does pretty much mark the midpoint of the trip, it's been great to catch up with far flung friends like Jim, Esther & Jarlath and New Zealand as a place, has been everything it promised to be. The weather can be wild enough but the range of landscape means that it can cater for whatever you may desire.

A very safe, clean place, you'd have to put it up there with the other great social democracies of the world, alongside Sweden and Canada. It has certain peculiarities of course, prostitution and brothels are legal, party pills are widely dispensed and legal (basically lesser versions of ecstasy and speed, with comedown pills supplied aswell!) and in this they are certainly more relaxed than the vast majority of the planet.

Another major plus, versus their near neighbours primarily, is the relatively easy accommodation with the native population. The mana (respect), which is afforded to Maori culture, and the integration of so much of the language and custom into everyday life and the constant re-addressing of historical ills means there is very little surface tension in terms of race relations and the contrast with Australia and the Aboriginals is stark.

Like Ireland however, New Zealand is only at the beginning of the curve in terms of dealing with a marked growth in immigration, despite having the land mass of Great Britain, the population is only 4 million and the South Island is in large parts deserted. So, they're gonna grow, as the census advertisement says, at the moment, I'd wager they'll deal with any associated difficulties alot more sympathetically than either Australia or Ireland.

Country count to date: Czech Republic, England, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand

Currency count to date: Euro, Czech Crown, English Pound, Singapore Dollar, Australian Dollar, New Zealand Dollar

Hasta Luego!

Next Stop: Santiago, Chile

Kawarau Bridge

Let's offroad...

About 6 of the 43 metres elapsed...

NZ - Various South Island Shots

Abel Tasman National Park

More Abel Tasman

Abel Tasman Encore

Punakaiki, Pancake Rocks

View North from Punakaiki

Sun on the water, Punakaiki

Sarah, Cindy & Marcus: Road to Nowhere, Barrytown

Marcus drinks in the bustling metropolis that is, Barrytown

Barrytown native, "Idler", One of the crew down at the Bone Carving

Bushman Cultural Centre: James, Stray Driver & Ruth, Stray Passenger, feed a stag

Mouth of the Franz Josef Glacier

Sarah & Cindy: Partytime, Queenstown

Milford Sounds, Waterfall Rainbow

Same Rainbow, Plus a little Boat

Undercover Stray Bus & Leviathan Hotel, Dunedin

Kaituna River - Roturoa

Tutea Falls, 7m Drop

Halfway down

Swallowed

Made it!

Surfin' the rapids

NZ - Various North Island Shots

Island Bay, Wellington

Paku Hill, Lookout Point, Auckland

Bridal Veil Falls, 55 metres

Stray Crew & Bus Relax at Waitomo, No.1

Stray Crew & Bus Relax at Waitomo, No.2

Stray Crew & Bus Relax at Waitomo, No.3

Huka Falls

'stralia photos

Not too much here, due to inebriation and the East Coast not really clicking with me...

Obligatory BBQ shot

Opera House, Sydney CBD and the QE2

Inmates of Sydney's Taronga Zoo

Photo Round Up Prague

As promised...

That is the view down Wencelas Square...

National Museum at the top of Wencelas Square...

And at the foot of the Museum, you find this raised cross in the ground, in memory of where Jan Palach fell, following the self-immolation...

More of the same...

Namesti Jana Palacha, the Square named after Jan Palach, one bridge down from Charle's Bridge

Death mask on the Rudolfinium, at the side of the Square

Plus flowers, the anniversary of Jan Palach's death takes place on the 19th January and I visited just over a week and a half later

Memorial hidden away on Wencelas Square to Jan Palach & Jan Zajic (another who followed his example), the inscription on the plaque reads: "To the victims of Communism"

Jan Palach's grave in Olsany Cemetary

Another grave shot

Took this shot whilst attempting to find Radio Free Europe HQ

Justification

"The only justification was that any travel book revealed more about the traveller than it did about the country." - Riding The Iron Rooster, By Train Through China by Paul Theroux

Have A Nice Life

4,700 kms on the Stray Bus completed in just under three weeks as we rolled into Christchurch last night.

The Murder Capital of New Zealand.

So most people are finishing South Island trips here and the group is getting broken up once again. This, in tandem with James having a day off, meant a big night ahead.

Anyway, we pretty much finished up at 3am this morning having taken advantage of all that Christchurch has to offer on a Monday night. Intense conversation, drunken incident and shots to beat the band dominated the evening.

I had my eyes and ears opened by a number of people to their perceptions of myself. Nice that someone has taken the time and trouble to be watching and forming such opinions over the past week, just listening to their interpretations helped break me out of the funk that I've been enduring since Queenstown.

The most rewarding and hardest aspect of travelling is the human factor. Meeting so many new people in such a short space of time is a draining experience and when you are trapped in a bus all day you have no choice but to swap your life history, it's only polite.

There are of course the standard backpacker conversations (when did you arrive, where are you going, why are you going there, you should go here, here is so much better than there, etc.) but that takes five minutes generally. Sometimes you'll never introduce, there's no point and you generally won't even bother getting a last name until 3am and you know, chances are you'll never see that person again.

So whilst first impressions may last, a week on a bus travelling around New Zealand is like a whole year of University rolled into one. You'll see people at their best and their ugliest. You can't help but be voyeur about it, but then again it is not as if you are exempted from becoming the subject.

The reality is that it is high time that this group was broken up, so we can quit playing those mind games together.

Dunedin, 12th March 2006

I've been on the Stray bus for quite some time.

Only Christchurch and Kaikoura await, then it's back to Wellington for some much needed rest and relaxation and some preparation for South America.

Haven't really checked out Dunedin yet, we were up with the birds and on the return trip to Stewart Island early, I didn't sleep on the bus so I subjected the group to my choice of music for most of the morning.

Stops for sea lions, dolphins and waterfalls were made en route.

Sea lions were successful but they looked just as knackered as I felt.

Dolphins had the right idea and stayed away but Kaikoura is the place for them anyway, if you are into that sort of thing.

The waterfalls, I couldn't make it. I've seen most of what NZ has to offer in terms of waterfalls and the most impressive remains the Bridal Veil Falls on the North Island, 55 metres and well worth the effort. It was on top of those falls, that the anticipation of bungy starts to build as you realise that the world's highest, the high wire Nevis in Queenstown is twice the size of this waterfall and more.

The Karawau Bridge was 10 metres shorter than the Falls itself and more than enough for me.

Top bunk again tonight and the dormitory shuffle in the morning.

Stewart (Barry) Island

So instead of spending the day in Invercargill, half the bus opted for the catamaran out to Stewart Island and the town of Oban which departed from Bluff.

The waves were touching on 3 metres and the swells were incredible, at some points the vessel seemed ready to be engulfed by the mass bodies of water that appeared both port and starboard but the Captain just kept on rocking us straight through.

1 hour later and 2 seasickness casualties later, we came to the wharf at Stewart Island where, predictably, we got thoroughly soaked.

All we did was run to the Hostel, and then to the pub. The rain was off and on all day and the bad weather pretty much cancelled the planned fishing trip as the collective resolve for such a trial was as damp as the clothes we were wearing.

A night in with the locals was in store.

So yeah, we came to Stewart Island, we saw and we drank.

Normal Service Resumed

After Queenstown, the Stray bus departed early for Te Anau and Milford Sound. This was of course good for those who decided that the last night in Queenstown required some kind of effort.

I managed 3:30 am for a 7:30 departure and a trip out to Milford Sound which would be a 12 hour day.

Others stayed later and consequently casualties were numerous and many chose the bed instead of the long road ahead. Of course, this being the South Island, things were very wet indeed but this meant that the valley of a thousand waterfalls was more impressive then usual, it occurs just after the km long Homer Tunnel which allows access to Milford Sound.

I took the $50 NZ cruise for two reasons despite the torrential downpour. The first being to give people breathing space and the second because you might only come here once. They're building a tunnel which will cut out the need to circle round via Queenstown in the near future that would make the journey a lot shorter but the reality is that this place takes commitment to get to.

So we cruised on out, hovered under some waterfalls and lo and behold, the micro climate of New Zealand kicked in and the sun came out. Sometimes, you cross a ridge and descend into a valley on the South Island and it will be bathed in sunshine just after you've received a drenching and a harsh encounter with the breeze from Antartica in the valley before.

Anyone planning to tour the South Island any time of year requires the following:

- Full set of waterproofs
- Swim gear
- Umbrella

I'm not kidding. Do not come here if you can't handle the rain.

So yeah, Milford Sound turned into a beautiful day, we didn't see the reflected mountains on the water that all the postcards of the region focus upon but we saw the start and beginning of many waterfalls and rainbows.

For the most part, I just listened to music and read my book. 2 plus weeks on a bus with a constant stream of new companions has probably taken more of a toll than I had previously acknowledged.

Our own rooms in Te Anau was a nice touch. It gave people a time out from the 8 bed dormitory shuffle which includes, banging doors, all sorts of personal odours, sounds and snores and the extreme sport of getting out of the top bunk. Oh, and don't forget the will I / won't I turn on the light routine.

It was relatively early to bed. And another early start in the morning.

Over It.

So over it.

The Bungy After The Night Before

Queenstown is the extreme adventure sports capital of New Zealand and most probably the world.

That's why just a few hours ago I found myself atop the Karawau Bridge, the place where bungy jumping got it's start, at a height of 43 metres above the river itself.

After the skydiving I should be a veteran at heights but there is much more personal choice to bungy than tandem skydiving.

Marcus has also volunteered to risk life and limb despite promising his mother that he wouldn't do a jump, anyway, the dvd will soon wing it's way back to Manchester.

They play music at the top of the jump to take your mind off things, Papa Was a Rolling Stone will now always relate to bungy for me, I guess.

So we went out last night. And things went well and then not so well and now I'm suitably unimpressed with myself. No, I didn't do anything that bad and probably wherever your imagination is going to take you will be far from what happened.

Let's just say instead of being cool as, I acted like an idiot and have probably spoilt something that was turning really sweet.

So is a bungy jump a fit punishment?

Maybe.

Trouble is, the girl standing on the viewing platform in the blue top across from my precarious ledge is not impressed by bravado. Whatever I do up here ain't going to rescue the situation.

"Water touch?"

A firm no thanks.

"You'll be right mate."

Great, you don't even get a choice anymore.

So I jumped, they dunked me and I cheated death one more time.

Hanging upside down and then retrieved by the raft in the river.

Adrenalin is the religion of New Zealand.

I just can't help feeling shitty today however.

Rained Out

So, I'm writing this up from Franz Josef and not from where I should be standing ice axe in hand on the Glacier proper.

It rains 2/3 days here and heavy rain overnight plus a minor earthquake at 5am has meant that a river now runs in front of the glacier and makes our 3/4 day hike impossible.

Sarah (Welsh), Cindy (German), Marcus (English) and I are all very disappointed.

We'd prefer to be in Barrytown quite frankly, there is nothing to do in Franz Josef when the rain comes.

The Monsoon Cafe puts it best.

"It rains... We pour"

And the Franz Josef Glacier guides have the best assessment of the weather coming up in the next few days.

"Wet Wet Wet through to Saturday"

We'll be in Stewart Island then, which is apparently like Barrytown on drugs.

Sweet as bro'

Barrytown

There is a song by Steely Dan entitled: "Barrytown", I'm not sure if the song refers to the Barrytown that is found in the South Island of New Zealand between Greymouth and Franz Josef glacier but the lyrics fit.

"I'm not one to look behind, I know that things must change...
But over there in Barrytown they do things very strange...

But look at what you wear...
And the way you cut your hair...

I can see by what you carry that you come from Barrytown..."

In Barrytown, there is the All Nations pub. The pub doesn't open till 3pm.

And the rocky beach where you can look for greenstone, jade.

Now what else is there?

You can make bone carvings with Jimmy and Graeme. Or you can make your own knife with Steve.

There's the Rata Cafe just twenty minutes walk up the road and it's only 20 mins by car back to Punakaiki, which also has a pub.

It's a hectic day in Barrytown.

To give you a sense of Barrytown, they have a rifle range on the way to the beach which is directly opposite the Cemetary. So if there's an accident they just drag you straight across.

I can't really tell you what happened in Barrytown. In fact, I'm not even supposed to tell you where Barrytown is.

As Jimmy would say: "Youse cunts can come back but don't tell anyone else about Barrytown."

We had a whole day off in Barrytown.

Old McDonald's Farm

Seriously.

After the ferry the day after the night before from Wellington to Picton and the pint spillage incident on my lap at 9am, we hopped aboad our new bus and set off.

Me and James, the driver, go back a long way now. Auckland in fact, and with the time pressure I'm under, we're probably going to being heading direct to Wellington Psychiatric Unit at the end of the next two weeks.

He's a cool driver tho' and from what most of the Stray passengers say, is at least in the top two drivers for general looking out for passengers and being easy to deal with.

So onwards to Marahau. We did some wine tasting (our second wine tasting of this trip) in Hunter's Vineyard en route to our new destination. The trick to wine tasting is not to scoff the lot obviously and actually ask what is being served. Then they think you are interested and give you more.

As part of my friend for a day programme, I met up with the first Icelandic person I think I've ever met. Ingunn. She's a hardy girl having started out from Tibet and pretty much having done all of Asia.

We spent the day together and headed down to Abel Tasman National Park, to sit on a bridge at dusk. The stillness of this region is insane. The South Island is all about space.

A freezing night was however ahead. The further South we go the colder things get obviously.

But I was tenting on the farm.

It had to be done, it saved five bucks.

Freezing night over and severe cramp in right leg endured, I walked into the park and strolled to Coquille Bay before the majority of walkers had set foot on the trail. It was quiet as all hell. But seriously spectacular.

Walking back on the trail I met up with Ingunn again. She's staying for horse trekking and we probably won't catch up with each other again.

But man, if you make these decisions I should have stopped for a few days in Taupo, and only a few hours ago I should really have stopped in Wellington.

This is a crazy life.