"La Mestiza" is the female conjugate in Spanish for a person of mixed race. I call myself this, because, for me, the question, "Where do you com from?" is a loaded one. Born in South Africa, raised by a German mother and an African father of Dutch origin, and living in the US for the past 8 years...that's a tricky one to get around explaining. Nevertheless, "La Mestiza" is what I have come to calling myself the past three months I have interned at a hostel in Patagonia. Lured by the guests I worked with, I have finally embarked on my own journey of discovery. This blog will be my attempt at both sharing my experiences and clinging to my own sanity.
Please note that this blog is entirely subjective and I may get some facts wrong. Also, I am writing this blog with an adult audience in mind. So, unless you want to instill awesomeness in your kiddo, please use your good judgement before sharing my experiences with your five year old.
The streets were absolutely deserted. There was only the reflection of the street lamps in the puddles while we lugged our backpacks and obnoxious cameras back the place we could reasonably call home on Isla Navarino. As expected, there was absolutely no-one in the refugio, but it was considerably cleaner than when we had last seen it. This may be due to all of the mud we always schlepped in…sorry Cecilia. We built a fire and made a shopping list. I was craving Alfredo pasta (the food, not the person, although repetitively hearing his name may have contributed to my desires), and Alfredo just wanted juice and wine. What a typical chileno...However, our solitude was not to be. The ferry arrived early that evening and brought with it to the refugio the German couple, Markus and
... read moreAll pictures of this post were taken by Alfredo Pourailly, a very talented young man that was so kind to share a few weeks of his life with me. My buddies at the ferry (we were on first name basis at this point), woke me up on the ferry at 3:30 AM for our arrival in Caleta Ferrari (CF). Sleepy eyed, I hopped off with Alfredo while some other passengers boarded. Thanks to the ferry lights, we were able to see exactly where we were, which was in between the ocean and a rock wall with a little dilapidated hut hugging the cliffs. I saw no sign of someone there to meet us. If no-one showed up, we would just have to pitch our tents where we were, because we had no idea which direction to
... read moreThe title has nothing to do with the temperature in Puerto Williams (PW). Quite the contrary, it is very cold here. Instead, the title of this post refers to the spectacular experience I have had here. Please read further if this is of interest to you. Unlike Jean Phillipe (do I love that name), Alfredo and I did not do any scouting as far as accommodation goes in PW. We figured that we would have enough time to do so during the morning there. Our sweet maple syrup loving lumberjack, however, did all the hard work for us and we struck gold with the Refugio El Padrino run by the magnanimous and inviting Cecilia. I really cannot describe how much I love this woman. She exudes happiness from each and every pore. She is one of
... read moreLuis dropped me off in front of a ship that did not exactly match the floater I had concocted in my mind to go to Puerto Williams. For some reason I didn't expect the kind of ferry that took cars, containers and only a few people. Well, I was greeted by the friendly sailors on board and even introduced to the captain before I was led to the economy class, which is basically a chair and not a bed, as in first class. Slowly, a few more people showed up on board, but I didn't have any high expectations as this ferry was going to a town in the Antarctic region of Chile during mid-April. Well, about 4 more people showed up, and, in a very un-Chilean fashion, we left five minutes early to embark on
... read moreAh, civilization sans fleas and hordes of tourists. I was finally back in Patagonia. Punta Arenas, unlike any other city in Chilean Patagonia or Tierra del Fuego, is a highly industrialized place. The airport even has two baggage claim carousels! Also, this time of year there are barely any tourists. Understandably so, as it is starting to get closer to cold. Located on the Strait of Magellan, statues of the famous Hernando de Magellan litter the city like graffiti even though this Portuguese man didn't care much for this wind-plagued strait. This is also the place where you can buy a ferry ticket to Puerto Williams and get your laundry done, which was my main goal. But first I had to rid myself of my bug infested clothes and do a deep clean of my skin
... read moreMango peeling, my friends, is an exhausting exercise. No, really! It really wears you out! Slap on walking to the airport for two kilometers loaded with an extra 22 kg pack, you're pretty damn tired. So, when I arrived in Santiago from Rapa Nui, all I really wanted and needed was a truck ton of rest. I checked in to my usual stop-over hostel and snuggled in for a traditional siesta. Post-siesta activities ensued and were soon followed by an early bed time as I had an early transfer to the airport the next morning. Not long and the first "frick" presented itself. Around 5 AM I was awoken by the late-night crowd tucking in and the staff cleaning the bathroom. No big deal, right? I just turned over to catch another 2 hours of sleep.
... read moreI knew very little about the Easter Island except that a bunch of Europeans anchored their ship and pitched their tents there on Easter day a couple of centuries ago. I was aware of the statues that littered the island, but I think that was the extent of my knowledge. So, visiting this place with the goal of expanding my knowledge was enticing enough. Months ago I reserved my ticket (I was even able to fly business class cheaply on my way over there!). I settled into my obnoxious electrical seat that could adjust to accomodate my body up to a centimeter. Served with wine and delectable dishes, I wondered what this new world would hold. Or I could act crazy and hopefully be allowed to make the return trip to the mainland yet again in
... read moreBefore hitting the road, I had worked 3 months at a hostel (www.patagonia-hostel.com). The reason being 1. so that I could improve my Spanish, and 2. so that I could become a little bit more assimilated before I set off to travel by myself. After several goodbyes and toasts, I was finally sitting on the plane to Santiago. There, I had an American from Flagstaff, AZ, next to me (check out his website at www.rioslibres.com). This was somewhat coincidental, because I had worked in Prescott, AZ, for a couple of summers. Furthermore, James Q, as this Arizonian is named, spent the previous day with a mutual friend of mine (this will become a theme, I am sure). We chatted the entire trip to Santiago exchanging stories. But despite the distraction of conversation, I felt that I
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