And then without further ado to Buenos Aires, Alan giving me a guided tour as we drove in, ´that´s the River Plate stadium...´he said, ´...where the River Plate football team play their HOME games. Not their AWAY games. They play those in other team´s stadiums...´and then moments later pointing at some outdoor fields, ´...those men are playing soccer.´ Riveting... Alan then went on to talk about River Plate´s arch-rivals, Boca, his favourite team in Buenos Aires, who Diego Maradona used to play for. His description of the beauty of the Boca football jersey was quite moving in parts. Having observed him in close quarters I´ve noticed that the deprivation of his football game every Tuesday night has affected him badly. Every seven days or so, from around half ten to half eleven he contorts himself, at ... read more

The Andes! Mountains that are definitely deserving of an exclamation mark. We watched these impressive mountains through our window as the driver pressed ever harder on the accelarator, straining the bus as it wound up hairpin bends, our ears popping and passengers giggling nervously to one another, some even closing the curtains to avoid looking down the sheer drop. A chattering group of Chilean women went silent and the lady who was sitting across the aisle from me and had been giving her young male neighbour a barrage of information accompanied by the occasional offer of a sup of Mate to drink or a corner off an empanada as he fiddled politely with his MP3 player, clung onto her neighbours arm. I had been passing the time imagining what they were talking about, and turned to ... read more

Crumbling splendid architecture, fantastically elaborate street art, avenues called things like 'Avenida O'Higgins' and 'Avenida Vicuña Mackenna' a combination of Spanish and Irish, sandwiches and empanadas (pastries containing fillings such as Jamon y Queso - ham and cheese), delicious juicy steaks, purple-red fragrant wine, huge Escudos of beer, friendly locals, bars that spill out onto the street, men spinning around beating rhythms on drums they wear on their backs, packs of wild dogs roaming the streets. Messy, frayed at the edges, faded glamour and yet so strangely beguiling that you have to force yourself to leave. Santiago. We didn't know what to expect when the plane touched down four hours later than expected, and bizarrely, two hours before we left New Zealand, making my dream of being Marty McFly come alive. Confused, tired and excited we ... read more

... So sang Paul Brady, and I'll get to the island in a minute, but first to Queenstown, a mecca for outdoorsy types who not satisfied with the lush forests, yellow beaches, thundering surf, clear lakes, abundent wildlife and lofty mountains, wish to throw themselves off a cliff, out of a plane, down a river. Whatever way you wish to challenge your inner sense of self-preservation they can arrange for you to be strapped in and pushed, for a fee of course. Alan and Sean decided to chuck themselves off Nevis, the highest bungee jump in New Zealand and third highest in the world, while I decided to simply surf down rapids at 'Roaring Meg' on a body-board avoiding rocks and crevices and Ali extreme read and chewed toast langorously. The morning of the jump I ... read more

When the clouds parted to reveal snow topped peaks and large alpine mountain ranges out the window of the plane, I was smitten. I'll start at the beginning, when we land in Christchurch. My love affair with New Zealand is still in the early dizzy phase, so sorry if I get oogley-eyed or gush at points, I'll try to keep my emotions in check for all of our sakes. We were zonked and our hostel was great so all we did on our first night was cook dinner in the cosy kitchen and walk about in our socks. The next morning we got up bright and early as Ali(son) was arriving from London and we hadn't seen her since September so were really excited. I was sitting in the kitchen excited chatting to some of the ... read more