When Mark and I set forth on Saturday morning, I was filled with excitement and a great sense of relief – years of dreaming, planning and, of course, saving had finally paid off and we were heading to a part of the world I had not yet had the opportunity to explore. My next few days would be spent travelling and I had prepared myself for the long and arduous journey before me. Following an uneventful flight, where sleep was made difficult by the hordes of young, extremely noisy Christians on board making their way to Rio for what I have been told is a visit by the pope, we made it to Santiago. Little words can be said for the flight into the city at the base of the Andes, the magnificent snow-capped mountains that
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