Before 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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