I’m pleasantly surprised by Air France. Lots of leg room, half-decent food and friendly staff take me from Heathrow to Paris. There’s a bit of a rush to make the connecting flight, but I make myself comfortable for the 12-hour journey to Argentina’s capital. Susanne is with me, who I met a year ago, so it’s a great way to start our trip across South America, by revisiting the city where we first met!

Day 2 (13 November 2010)
Buenos Aires

We wake in Argentina and quickly find the hotel, just a stone throw away from Av. 9 de Julio, the widest road in the world. The weather is fantastic, so we head for the Puerto Madero, the modern port area of the capital, with loads of bars and restaurants which are perfect for people-watching.

There’s a Nike city run, so the area is packed with bright yellow shirts. It’s the perfect way to start this two week adventure, by completely relaxing with a few drinks as the runners, skaters and boats go by.

Unfortunately the Costanera Sur Wildlife Reserve is just closing, so the lazy day finishes early and I find myself back at the hotel and ready to catch up on some sleep.

Day 3 (14 November 2010)
Buenos Aires

After yesterday’s lazy day and a ridiculous amount of sleep, I’m ready to start the real exploring. Palermo Viejo, the trendy and lively part of Buenos Aires, is a great area which deserves plenty of attention. So, after a quick jump at the Obelisk, we catch the underground to Plaza Italia, in the heart of Palermo. Susanne is obsessed with havannets de chocolate, so there’s a coffee/chocolate pit-stop before several hours of walking around Palermo’s beautiful parks.

The Botanical Gardens are quiet and romantic, whilst the Jardín Japonés makes me feel like I’m on another continent altogether. We walk for miles, but stop occasionally for photos and I even manage to consume what seems like a litre of the most delicious ice-cream at Un Altra Volta.

Although the gardens are well maintained, the surrounding areas are also fantastic. Buildings of different styles make every block fascinating, and really speaks volumes about this city’s history. Further north is the Parque Tres de Febrero. It also looks pretty and romantic, but apparently at night it’s the host of a completely different type of romance!

Susanne wants to see the elephants and I want to see the monkeys, so we walk through the city zoo on our way back towards Plaza Italia, even if I do hate seeing some of the tiny areas in which some of the animals are kept.

We end the day in Plaza Cortázar, where my last trip to Argentina ended (at about 5am). It’s suitably packed and we find a bar full of character to have some drinks and empanadas. The whole area oozes with character and it reminds me why I liked Buenos Aires so much a year ago. The day has absolutely flown by, so we head back to the Obelisk for a night shot of Av. 9 de Julio. It has been a frustrating day with white, cloudy skies, but I’m pleased to catch this long exposure shot which I missed last year.

Back at the hotel and I cant believe I’ve gone two days in Argentina without a steak – it’s sacrilegious!!

Day 4 (15 November 2010)
Buenos Aires, Coronia del Sacramento

Over breakfast, I spot a page in my guidebook that says there are regular ferry crossings to Coronia del Sacramento. I look at Susanne and she has the same grin on her face as I do: Let’s go to Uruguay!

We buy our tickets and find that we’ve got two hours to kill in Buenos Aires. Avenida de Mayo is another of the city’s famous streets. It starts at the Casa Rosada, and shoots inland to the west. I’m slightly underwhelmed with the road (it’s not nearly as interesting as my guidebook makes it out to be), but the Plaza del Congreso is an massive plaza with the very large and impressive palace towering above.

Back at the Madero port, we board the Biquebus ferry, get some more stamps in our passports and zip across the Rio de la Plata towards Uruguay. The views back to Buenos Aires are very good, since you can really take in the scale of this gigantic city.

One hour later and I take my first steps in Uruguay. Colonia is a touristy, yet quiet town which actually feels more Spanish than Latin American. Cobbled streets and old drawbridges give it a very picturesque feel, especially now that sun has broken through the clouds, lighting up the varying colours of beautiful flowers and trees. The view from the lighthouse is great too, although I can’t see Argentina in the distance, which I hear is possible on clear days.

I have a cocktail in the sun, and Susanne has an ice-cream which is absolutely smothered in whisky. It makes for a very relaxing (and completely different to the hectic city life across the river) afternoon which begs a return to Uruguay in the future.

Another ferry crossing and we reach the Hotel Carrson, which is absolutely awful, but the meeting point for the rest of the group on our Bolivian adventure. The group is large (too large in fact) but there seem to be some friendly characters and it bodes well for the trip. We all go for dinner and I finally get my steak which is delicious with a tasty bottle of Malbec.

Day 5 (16 November 2010)
Buenos Aires, Salta

The domestic airport is completely shut so the midday flight to Salta is via the absolutely packed international airport. The flight is quick and easy and we land in Northwest Argentina, an area famous for its wine and beautiful scenery.

Salta itself is much bigger than I expected. The main plaza is large and picturesque, and the whole city is buzzing with locals meeting in the centre or just sitting on a bench watching the world go by. It’s a bizarre environment as it feels like everyone is out and about. Unlike the UK, there’s a real sense of community and I love the fact that people are ‘living’ and not just plonked in front of the television at home.

The group sticks together in the afternoon and this is where the group size becomes a real hindrance. Ordering and paying for food takes forever and I feel like we’ve lost half the afternoon. When the group starts sightseeing through the city, I feel we’re just a bright umbrella away from being on a shit package holiday. Susanne and I decide to do our own thing (a couple of others do the same) and we prepare for tomorrow’s long day, which is the start of the real adventure.

Day 6 (17 November 2010)
Salta, Cafayate

Today was meant to be all about touring the countryside, visiting vineyards and sampling the local wines. Instead, we drive around 400km to Cafayate, a small town which is full of tourists. We visit one winery and after a 10 minute explanation on how they make the wine, we’re given a tiny taste of the cheapest white and red wines they produce. I’m surprised and disappointed, but on a positive note, the route to get here was absolutely beautiful. The mountains rise up to a modest 1,700m, but the views and varying rock colours make for some great photos.

On reflection, it would have been nicer to skip the wine tour and explore more of the mountains. The whole valley used to be covered by the sea and what has remained, millions of years later, is a series of gorges and remarkable rock formations.

Back in Salta, we break from the group again and find El Solar del Convento, a highly recommended restaurant just off the 9 de Julio Plaza. Its reputation precedes it. The atmosphere is sophisticated yet not pretentious, the service is the best I’ve had so far on this trip, and the food was excellent. The Malbec was also top-notch and blew away the crap we had from the winery early in the day. It’s a great way to end the Argentine section of this trip. Chile and Bolivia await, and I’m excited to see the altometer display some worthy figures!

Day 7 (18 November 2010)
Salta, San Pedro de Atacama

An early start and we all get to Salta’s bus station to catch the coach to San Pedro de Atacama, one of the driest places on earth. The coach is modern, and makes the journey fly by, especially with the great views as we climb to over 4,000m.

Even the border crossing into Chile is easy, despite the manual searching of everyone’s bags. As in the Patagonia crossings I did last year, they check for fruit, meat, nuts and of course coca leaves. I reluctantly dispose of the bags of coca leaves that I’ve been sucking for the past few days. Apparently you need 90kg of coca leaves to make a single gram of cocaine, so it seems a bit daft that I’m not allowed to take any leaves across the border; I’m pretty sure I can’t stuff 90kg of them in my mouth!

We pass some beautiful mountains, some of which are over 6,000m high, before reaching San Pedro de Atacama. It has a far more rural feel to it than Salta, despite the fact that it has practically been built for tourists, as nearly every building is a restaurant, shop or tour agency. The lack of tarmac roads means that it’s incredibly dusty, with sand flying everywhere each time a 4×4 passes or the wind blows. That said, it does add so much character to the small town.

The hotel is simple but very cute and reminiscent of the one I stayed in before I climbed the Sinai Mountains in Egypt. As a group we discuss all the options for the next 1.5 days. In reality, you could spend a week here and still not cover everything: The Valley of the Moon, the Death Valley, Star Gazing (it’s one of the best places in the world for astronomy), thermal springs, sand-boarding, mountain-climbing and numerous treks.

Most people want to do the Moon Valley, thermal springs and sand-boarding, but Susanne and I are very keen on climbing one of the mountains that is over 5,000m. Varcar seems the best: At 5,500m, it’s the only active volcano in the region and it requires a 05.00 start tomorrow, and means we can only go sand-boarding if we do it tonight. It sounds perfect, skimming down a sand-dune under the moonlight!

After a simple but tasty fish dinner, we meet at 21.30 only to be disappointed that the moonlight isn’t strong enough and we have to miss the sand-boarding. It’s a shame, but it does mean extra sleep before the early start tomorrow.

Day 8 (19 November 2010)
San Pedro de Atacama

We wait for an hour at 05.00 only to find that the 4×4 that was going to take us to the volcano is under repair. It’s hugely frustrating, especially as it’s absolutely freezing at this altitude when the sun isn’t out. Fortunately, our guide Christian has made some calls and we can go sand-boarding later this morning, and then climb another mountain this afternoon.

After a couple more hours sleep we join a German guy and an Argentine girl on a bouncy 4×4 trip into the Death Valley. It’s a stunning landscape and I finally feel like I’m on the adventure I wanted. We carry our sandboards for around ten minutes, reaching a big dune with powder-like sand which is begging for some tracks.

After a brief instruction, I’m surprised how easy it is, even if I do go relatively slowly and fall a few times! It’s such a strange experience to soak up the blisteringly hot sun, take in the stunning scenery and then hop off the edge of the sand-dune and carve my way down to the bottom! I’d definitely do it again, although I can’t begin to describe the energy needed to climb the sand dune every time I want another run! Where’s my air-conditioned ski-lift!?

It’s a pasta invigorating lunch before our next guide arrives with his repaired 4×4. It’s absolutely no surprise that it breaks down regularly, as he drives like a maniac and the suspension takes a hammering up to 5,100m. Toco mountain is not a volcano, but it is a little higher than Varcar, with its peak at 5,631m.

It’s not a difficult climb, but within 100m I know I’m not going to make it. My breathing is heavy and my legs are like jelly; the guide immediately says it’s the first signs of altitude sickness. I try to keep going, but then my head starts to pound with every step. I have to go back and although I’ve reached 5,375m, I’m hugely disappointed with myself.

With the wind blasting the side of the 4×4, I regain my strength, even if my hands and feet are still tingling. The guide told me that this happens as the body struggles to cope with the altitude and pumps blood to vital organs rather than limbs!

Susanne and the guide return an hour later, having picked up the pace and reached the summit before a quick descent. I’m proud of her but of course it’s such a shame that something out of my control has prevented me from joining the celebration at the top.

Another fast drive takes us back to San Pedro de Atacama, where we meet the others and join them for dinner. I’m not at all in the mood for drinks so return to the hotel for a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we cross the border into Bolivia, the main reason for my South American trip, so I’m eager to experience the awe I felt when I visited Peru a couple of years ago.

Day 9 (20 November 2010)
San Pedro de Atacama, Valley of Dalí, Sol de Mañana

In a cloud of dust, a small minibus takes us to the Bolivian border. On the way, we pass Mount Toco and I reluctantly take a photo of the mountain that defeated me!

The border control is really quick and I enter my 39th country where several 4x4s are waiting to take us through the deserts of southwest Bolivia. The roads are nothing more than tyre tracks through this harsh and isolated landscape, so it makes for a bumpy and dusty ride. However, the mountains loom in every direction, so it’s hard to take my eyes off the stunning scenery.

It gets better, as we drive past many lagoons, each with unique colours, contrasting with the colourful rocks and mountains. The first is the Green Lagoon, followed by a drive through the Valley of Dalí to reach another lagoon, which is covered by spiralling formations of sand and dust. It’s a truly remarkable sight. Better yet, is the thermal pool which feeds into the lagoon. At 40 degrees, it’s like stepping into a bath tub and it’s my first unforgettable memory of Bolivia. Of course, I’m at around 4,000m, so the air is very cold, despite the scorching sun: Getting out of the thermal spring takes a bit of willpower!

I eat llama for lunch (it doesn’t seem too dissimilar from pork) and gulp a huge amount of water as I’m ridiculously dehydrated from the hot spring. I was only in for 10 minutes (the maximum recommended) but it totally drained me.

The next stop is for the Sol de Mañana geysers. Everyone ignores the ‘do not cross’ signs and peers into the bubbling geysers. They stink of sulphide and I can feel the heat from the ground below. I tread carefully between the geysers; there have been many stories of the ground collapsing beneath visitors, and I don’t fancy being another statistic for the guidebooks… That said, it does make a great spot for my first Bolivian jump!

More bouncing in the 4×4 and we finally reach our destination for the first night in the desert. It’s basic, with no heating and only minimal lighting for a couple of hours after sunset, but our guide manages to cook up the perfect cold weather food: A body warming soup followed by a massive amount of spaghetti bolognese. There’s also Bolivian wine although I only sample a little since I’m taking altitude sickness pills. I’m glad I am – the wine is revolting; somewhere between vinegar and cat’s piss!

I take a few night shots before climbing under the layers of blankets: Tomorrow is a huge day of driving and if today is anything to go by, it bodes very well indeed.

Day 10 (21 November 2010)
Laguna Colorada, Desert of Siloli, Ollague Vulcano, Salar de Chiguana

An early alarm and we all jump back in the 4x4s. Yesterday a couple of people were feeling the effects of the altitude, but fortunately a night’s rest seems to have done the trick.

The first stop is the Laguna Colorada and it’s one of the best landscapes I’ve ever seen. Aside from hundreds of flamingos, the lagoon is ridiculously red. I’ve never seen such a red colour in nature before; it’s as if Mother Nature has photoshopped the lagoon! I’m truly gobsmacked.

The Desert of Siloli isn’t something I was particularly excited about seeing. After the White Desert in Egypt, I wasn’t convinced rock formations in the middle of the Bolivian desert could compare. However, I’m completely proven wrong: It’s a fantastic area with gigantic rocks which appear to be out of place and lost in the desert. There are a few other tourists here, all acting like children, climbing and playing around the rocks: It’s like an enormous playground! It’s very photogenic too, so if it wasn’t for the blisteringly hot sun, I would have been happy to stay much longer than the 30 minutes that we did.

There are stops at a few more lagoons (Cañapa, ChairKota and Hedionda) and although they are pretty and full of birdlife, I feel like I’ve stalked enough flamingos for a lifetime!

The heat in the 4×4 is crazy. It’s a dilemma between sitting in a moving greenhouse or opening the windows and breathing litres of sandy air, so it’s a refreshing stop by Ollague Vulcano, where the wind blows over the jagged rocks. I climb the various viewpoints, soaking up the sun, with the smoke puffing out of the volcano in the distance.

We cross a train track by another security checkpoint before reaching a small town to stock up on water, and other essentials like packets of Pringles(!) There are loads of children running around the town, curious about their foreign visitors, and it’s another reminder about how simple and different life can be for people around the world.

I’m particularly excited about the next hotel. Not far from the salt plains, it’s actually built out of salt! Walls are made of salt bricks, with a salty mixture holding them together. The floor looks like someones has poured salt granules all over the place (it feels amazing when walking around barefooted!) and tables, chairs and ornaments are all carved out of salt rock.

The moon is immensely bright tonight, so I have another crack at some moon photography, with much better results. It’s a surreal experience to be standing in the middle of a desert and being able to see the various craters on the surface of the moon!

Day 11
22 November 2010
Salar de Uyuni, Uyuni

Today’s attraction was what created my first interest in travelling to Bolivia. The Salar de Uyuni is the biggest salt plain in the world and is a third of the size of Switzerland. It holds around 5.4m tonnes of lithium and lies at 3,656m above sea level, meaning that it creates a perfect contrast between the seemingly endless landscape of white salt against the brilliant blue sky. In wet season (January) it even floods, creating a perfect mirror across the desert floor.

However, the day doesn’t start as planned and I’m woken at around two in the morning by Susanne who has unfortunately fallen ill. It’s obviously some dodgy food that caused the problem, but the real issue is being in such a state when there’s no electricity and you’re using torches to scramble around a salt hotel in the middle of a desert. It’s not a pleasant start, but at least come 07.00, she appears to be through the worst of it, even if she is completely drained of energy.

Feeling slightly better, she joins us for the 4×4 trip into the centre of the salt plains. It starts with a short hike to the top of a little island that sits in the middle of the plains. It’s an absolutely amazing little island, since it’s littered with cacti, thriving in the harsh environment in which they live.

Another drive and we reach a location where I can pretty much only see salt in every direction, apart from the faint shadows of mountains that are hundreds of kilometres away. It’s everything I hoped it would be, from the crystal-like salt shapes on the ground to the perfect blue sky.

We do the touristy thing and play with perspective to get some unusual photos, but I waste a lot of time with ambitious shots that don’t really work. The best ideas are the simple ones, an everyone laughs and messed around with different objects. It’s a really perfect place to play with photography.

Before finishing the day in Uyuni, we visit the Train Cemetery, but although it’s impressive, the weather has suddenly changed and the quite skies make it hard to photograph the rusty, dark and abandoned trains.

Between the cemetery ad Uyuni is another unbelievable sight. There are literally millions of plastic bags, torn ti shreds and depositing rubbish all over the shrubs between the town and the desert. It’s disgusting and gives an idea of how bad certain services are in this country.

Uyuni is a perfect example of rural Bolivian life. Unlike some of the other towns I’ve seen on this trip, it has a real local feel to it, and is a stark reminder about how poor the country is. Old people (mainly women) roam the streets and every few metres there is another frail person selling anything from fruit and nuts to socks and knitwear.

The dust is unbelievable. I’ve been waking up and really gasping for air each day, but this place is a horrendously bad. The sand from the roads is bad enough, but the pollution adds to the mix: It really is a nightmare for asthmatics and contact lens wearers!

We go out for an Italian dinner (again!) and settle for an early night, since we’re so exhausted from the lack of sleep yesterday. Others stay out late, visiting the awfully named ‘Extreme Fun’ bar and downing shots until the early hours of the morning!

Day 12 (23 November 2010)
Uyuni, Potosí

Out first lie-in since Buenos Aires is a welcome rest, and sets us up for the long coach ride to Potosí. I feel I haven’t explored Uyuni properly. However, it’s the amazing countryside that is the reason why I’m in Bolivia and that’s why today’s day on the road is so enjoyable.

Despite being a relatively major road, the route from Uyuni to Potosí is basically a dirt track, with occasional sections that have tarmac. It twists and turns through the mountains, reaching close to 5,000m. Amongst the beautiful landscapes are a few buildings (which are nothing more than walls with a roof) and a few locals going about their rural lives. This is the real Bolivia and unlike some developing countries that I’ve visited, it doesn’t feel like things are going to change any time soon. It’s an eye-opening experience that I wish the whole world could see.

Potosí used to be the richest city in Latin America. Its silver mines depreciated in value and it nearly collapsed but for the demand for tin. It has certainly lost its ‘rich’ title, but is still proud of the fact that it’s the highest city in the world, at 4,088m. I can still feel the effects of the altitude too; it’s not easy putting in my contact lenses when my fingers and face are both completely numb!

Potosí is considerably bigger than any town I’ve seen in Bolivia so far, but still doesn’t seem any different to Uyuni. It’s like a city lost in time, that hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. Of course there are mobile phones, electrical stores and the odd modern looking building, but the street-sellers remain and the beggars still roam.

The frantic, busy roads are full of old mini-buses (which were clearly imported from China decades ago) crammed with people. Children are employed to announce each stop and many of them sit on the door entrance with their legs dangling out and scraping the road below.

From a photographic point of view, there is fodder everywhere, but I hold back, conscious that the better the photo, the more I’m highlighting their poverty.

There’s a quick walk around the city before an early dinner in a great little restaurant that has a wall covered in graffiti from travellers’ scribbles. Most people are shattered, but we all stay up to watch a documentary about a 12 year old boy who works in Potosí’s silver mines. It’s full of eye-opening facts about child labour, the dangers of mining and extreme lack of wealth in Bolivia.

Day 13 (24 November 2010)
Potosí

I’m visiting the silver mines today and I wake with the images of the documentary still embedded on my mind. On the minibus I try to imagine the journey that workers would make from the city up to Cerro Rico, knowing they have to spend their next hours (and in some cases a full 24 hour shift) in near darkness at temperatures of up to 40 degrees.

I change into the mining gear (I’m a little concerned at how very YMCA I look in these clothes…) and ascend the mountain that Potosí miners have climbed so many times. Near one of the mine-shafts, I spot the mother of the boy whose documentary I saw last night. It suddenly makes the shocking video so much more real, especially when nearby I see the boy’s brother, who is a few years older, but still a teenager preparing to enter the mines again. He sees that we’ve recognised them and smiles, waving at us like he’s a superstar. Out guide points out his sister (who can’t even be 10 years old) and she’s separating the rocks into piles, trying to identify some valuable minerals. The documentary was shocking, but this is hard to digest.

As part of the tour inside the mines, we pass Tio; workers believe that inside this mine they are away from God’s eyes and they need to respect the devil in order to save themselves from accidents. I don’t know if the guide is joking when he says they touch the devil’s privates and make a wish… I don’t take the risk: I grab the Tio and pray to get out of this mine alive!

We meet real miners who are still working in the same conditions as they did hundreds of years ago. We see the manual methods of drilling holes, the setting the dynamite (that they have to pay for using their own money!) and the crawling through muddy passages, filled with poor quality air. If they avoid the daily dangers such as falling into sub-shafts, cave-ins and the risk of dynamite accidents, then they get the privilege of dying from silicosis at an average age of just 40 years old.

It’s a journey that leaves us all shocked and grateful that we haven’t been born into this alternative world. We climb into various shafts and I even get a chance to carry out some work: It’s staggeringly tiring and I feel guilt as I hand it back over to the miner. He smiles and even hands me a small rock to take away. It’s not valuable to him, but to me it will be a reminder of this moment forever.

We exit the mines and are grateful not to have joined the 8,000,000 people to have died in this mountain. As a privilege for the tour, we gift coca leaves, 96% alcohol (!), and even dynamite to the various miners we meet.

Back under sunlight, the miners then show us how strong the dynamite can be. Taking just a small amount, they they blow it up; it’s a much bigger explosion than we expect, and the miners laugh and take huge satisfaction at our reactions!

Back in Potosí we have lunch, wander around the city and then prepare for the long bus journey that will take us to La Paz overnight. Potosí’s bus station is the most modern part of Bolivia I’ve seen to date (free wifi – I mean seriously – priorities!?) the locals love our game of hacky sack and we board the night bus. Tomorrow I’ll wake up in the highest capital city in the world – a slightly odd title since it’s not actually the capital of Bolivia!

Day 14 (25 November 2010)
La Paz

La Paz is far from its name suggests. Multiply the frenzy of Potosí tenfold, put it into a ten kilometre crater surrounded by dangerous slums, and you get La Paz.

The hotel is relatively good and very central. We arrive early but the hotel lets us check in and have breakfast. Once again, I’m in a city that hosts many sites ad I’m here for only a short period of time. My decisions revolve around tomorrow’s full day of biking. Susanne has her heart set on reaching 6,000m. I’d love to join her but there simply aren’t enough hours in the day and, in any case, I’m still concerned about how I’m coping with the altitude.

Huyana Potosi’s peak is at 6,078m. There are several companies claiming they can offer guides for this technical climb, so I spend the morning trying to help Susanne find a suitable English-speaking guide who we trust can do it safely. We finally come across a small, but very friendly local who seems to know the mountain range like the back of his hand. The challenging climb will start tonight at 23.30 and go throughout the night, finishing at some point tomorrow afternoon..! It means a siesta for Susanne whilst I join a few others in the group in a walk around the city’s cathedral and along the witches’ market (imagine your local corner shop, but with a few llama foetuses…)

I get an absurdly cheap massage just in time for dinner at a recommended Thai restaurant in the ‘modern’ part of La Paz. It’s like walking though a time machine into the future. Everything is clean and the poverty is nowhere to be seen. The Thai is excellent and quite possibly the best I’ve ever had. Spirits are high an despite the warning that we should not be hungover for tomorrow’s bike adventure, everyone has a ‘suitable’ number of drinks until around 02.00!

Day 15-16 (26-27 November 2010)
La Paz, Coroico,

About two years ago, I received an email with an attachment. It was a PowerPoint document with a series of photos and was name ‘The Most Dangerous Road in the World’. Ever since seeing the photos, I’ve wanted to witness it for myself. So you can imagine my excitement when I discovered that it’s possible to ride down its 63km route on a mountain bike!

Its winding route through the mountains of the Yungas jungle has taken many lives, and it earned its title a few years ago when around 200-300 people died each year by falling from the 1,000m high cliff-edges. Six of us are driven to around 4,600m, where the route begins. It’s like a childhood dream as nearly the whole 63km is a steep downhill to Coroico, a small town at just 1,525m.

I’m in two minds as I’m desperate to stop every few hundred metres for photos, since the mountain scenery is absolutely stunning. However, I also feel like I’d be letting down the 10-year-old Carlo if I didn’t absolutely scream down this perfect downhill road! For once, I half forget about photography and I let adrenaline take over. The first 20km is all downhill on a tarmac road and I simply fly down as fast as I can. If only if I could send a postcard back 20 years and tell myself what I’d be doing today! I’d be counting down the days!

After a police checkpoint (this is actually a very popular route to smuggle drugs from the jungles of Bolivia) I’m off the Tarmac and onto the bumpy, slippery and narrow section of this route, which is suitably named ‘The Death Road’.

The track is dry and as long as you are careful around the blind corners, I really don’t think it’s any different to any other road. However, all it takes is one mistake, just one stumble over a stone or a slip of the tyre and I’d be off the edge and fall to a certain death. The many crosses and plaques constantly reminde me how dangerous this really is, so I lower my speed and take in the gorgeous views. However, there are still plenty of straight sections where I speed up and fuel my adrenaline rush!

The views are sublime and I’d have loved to have stopped more often, but I don’t want to take anything away from the experience itself. It’s really spectacular and one of the greatest experiences of my life which would definitely deserve a repeat.

We reach the end of the trail where a small restaurant awaits. I really feel the jungle atmosphere as I get bitten to shreds by the mosquitos, but the person in real pain is David. He fell after about 20km and thought he’d badly bruised his shoulder. On closer inspection it’s clearly a broken collar bone, so it’s unbelievable how he made it down the remaining 40km. We later discover that he actually broke four bones, one of which punctured a lung! He must have pain threshold stronger than Superman’s!

Earlier in the day I said that there would be no way on earth I’d let someone drive me on that road. Imagine my surprise when I discover that we are going to drive back up the route we’d just completed! I eat my words and put my life into the driver’s hands as he navigates us up the winding route to La Paz. I sit at the window and there are moments when I can’t even see the road – just the 1,000m drop into the jungle! It’s truly nerve-wrecking but a wonderful way to review the route and take in the stunning scenery.

Back in La Paz, the sun is setting and the views across the city’s suburbs is amazing. It’s a shame I don’t have more time in La Paz as it would be spectacular to climb the city’s outer mountains and look across this ‘city crater’.

At the hotel lobby I spot Susanne, who is absolutely exhausted and there’s a huge relief from both of us since we know how dangerous each other’s trips have been. I feel as if I had the easy one: When I was out drinking last night, Susanne had just started her climb, walking through the night, crossing crevasses and fighting against freezing temperatures at around 6,000m! Unfortunately the amazing weather has not been favourable, since the strong sunshine in the early morning means the snow is potentially loose, and for this reason alone, she had to turn around and miss out on reaching the summit.

Tomorrow’s early flight means it’s a relatively calm one this evening. We go to a steak restaurant which has a good reputation, but the service is absolutely horrendous. Forgetting the meal, Susanne and I look back on the last 24 hours which are the best of the whole trip, with plenty of memories to keep us occupied on the four flights home (La Paz to Santa Cruz to Buenos Aires to Paris to London!)

I’ve got that airport feeling again! I’m in an unusually quiet Heathrow Terminal Five and British Airways is offering me €600 and a free night in an airport, to fly tomorrow instead of this evening. The thought doesn’t even cross my mind: In 15 hours I simply have to be in Buenos Aires, the starting point of my adventure to Patagonia.

I’m in for a surprise as my supposedly direct flight stops in São Paulo and refuels before the last few hours to Argentina. It’s not quite another pin in the map, but I can’t complain about an unexpected stop in Brazil when I only left my office a few hours ago!

Buenos Aires is exactly as it’s described in my guidebook; it’s big, European-looking and clearly brimming with life. I didn’t expect so many skyscrapers and I’m also pleasantly surprised by the amount of green.

I take a taxi along the widest road in the world and dump my 90 litres of luggage at the hotel. It’s time for lunch so it’s great to meet three separate guys who are doing a different trip from me, starting in Buenos Aires and then heading north towards Rio. They’re a good bunch and we see some main sites such as Plaza de Mayo, Florida and Casa Rosada (not forgetting accidentally walking into a huge gay parade!) before finding a restaurant and my first Argentine steak and beers.

It’s a city that impresses and one that I immediately add to my very short list of ‘places I could see myself living’.

Back at the hotel, I meet my 15 new travel companions; everyone is lively and friendly so it bodes well for the next two weeks. It’s suggested we go to Estancia restaurant, with great local food (including an absolutely gigantic steak that I devour) served by men who are so old that it makes me wonder if the place was at all different in the 1950s!

Day 3 (8 November 2009)
Buenos Aires, El Chaltén

Five hours on a plane, three more hours on a bus and I’m finally in El Chaltén. I’m well and truly in Patagonia and the glaciers, snow-peaked mountains, crystal blue lakes and biting cold wind is all around me.

Despite the long day of travelling, it has been really enjoyable, getting to know the group and seeing the huge variety of landscapes fly by the window.

El Chaltén isn’t the prettiest town in the world, but the surrounding mountains are gorgeous, even if there’s a looming cloud, covering the jagged peaks in the distance. It’s another steak and some great local wine to knock me out before tomorrow’s long hike.

Day 4 (9 November 2009)
El Chaltén

It’s a long hike lasting nine hours, covering twenty-six kilometres of hugely varying geography. Apparently the weather has been horrendous recently, with violent winds, rain and snow preventing hikers from reaching the Laguna de Los Tres viewpoint at 1,400m. However, we’re insanely lucky; the clouds break and the wind is almost non-existent, giving an outstanding view of the Fitz Roy (El Chaltén) peak, screaming up to the bright blue sky. Deep into Patagonia, it feels like I’m a million miles away from home and it’s nature at its best.

It also is a great reminder of how fragile humans can be on earth; despite the lucky weather, occasionally the wind picks up or the sun gets hidden by clouds and it suddenly feels 30 degrees colder.

Back in the town, after a quick visit to the local chocolatier, it’s pisco sours all around and so much steak that I wonder if there are any cows left in Patagonia!

Day 5 (10 November 2009)
El Chaltén, Lago Viedma

The view from the bedroom window is even more beautiful this morning. The few clouds in the sky shift and leave a breathtaking mountain range all around El Chaltén. A short bus takes us to Lago Viedma, where a boat awaits. Despite the boat zipping through the freezing cold lake like a jumping dolphin, it takes an hour to reach the far west side. Yet it feels like so much less, as condors fly overhead, guanacos wander on the hillside and crystal-blue icebergs float around the shores of the lake.

When we reach the westside, the stunning Viedma Glacier appears, towering over the lake and rising back up into the distance. It’s a majestic sight and even more exciting since the next five hours will be spent trekking across it!

The rock beside the glacier is formed of vastly different colours and the contrast with the turquoise lake and deep blue sky is perfect for photos. With crampons attached to my foot, I start spiking my way across the glacier. It’s a strange feeling as I can hear the ice and water moving beneath me, and the constantly changing lanscape means the guides have to pick a route carefully around the deep crevasses.

There’s a short section of vertical ice that we practise climbing which is great fun, but surprisingly tiring, clinging to the wall of ice with axes and just a couple of spikes from my shoes.

As we approach a higher point of the glacier, we’re in for a treat: One guide starts hacking the ice with his axe and puts the chunks into some plastic glasses. Another then pulls out a bottle of Bailey’s! We salute and celebrate in style and I’ve another memory that will last me a lifetime, which can now be recaptured with a single shot!

There’s pizza and drinks before the three hour journey back to El Calafate, where a quaint wooden lodge awaits.

Day 6 (11 November 2009)
El Calafate, Perito Moreno Glacier

A greasy breakfast sets me up for what was to be one of the highlights of the trip: The Perito Moreno glacier. One of the few glaciers in the world that is still advancing, it splits Lago Argentino in half and every few years breaks and crashes into the water, connecting the two sides of the lake.

We approach the glacier on the winding mountain roads and suddenly it appears in the distance; the atmosphere and excitement is heightened even more by the Star Wars themes music played over the bus’ speakers! It’s truly apt, since the glacier spans kilometres into the distance and once again I feel like I’m on another world.

We stay a few hours and despite the average weather (it’s very cloudy and windy) I’m still enjoying every second, the dearth of photographs substituted by listening to the glacier creak and stir like the belly of a volcano. It’s truly alive and makes for an incredible acoustic experience as much as a visual one.

I could watch all day, eagerly anticipating each mountain of ice that breaks off into the lake, but our boat is waiting to take us near to its cliff-like walls. Only from the water level does the sheer size of it truly hit home. At 60m tall and with gigantic sheets of interconnected ice, it reminds me of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude!

There’s time to check out El Calafate, but unlike El Chaltén which is pretty desolate, this town is designed like it’s trying to make Americans feel more at home. However, the restaurant choice is great; we’re driven high above the town where the table-view is fantastic, the wine goes down well and I’m force-fed a few more Argentine herds. The night doesn’t end there though; Susanne, Sandra, Barry, Matt, Dana, Dom, Hannah and I decide to relive our Bailey’s moment and order a bottle to ourselves. That quickly disappears, then whiskey and cocktails come and go, Barry seemingly downs a bottle of wine and we all temporarily forget about the pending long journey to Chile tomorrow morning…

Day 7 (12 November 2009)
El Calafate, Puerto Natale

A few people look worse for wear, but fortunately it’s a comfy bus ride across the Andes. However, it is a long one, at around six hours, including a ridiculously long wait at the Chilean border as they inspect every single bag for fruit, vegetables or any other illegal items. Although the pace is slow, it’s all very friendly. In fact, it gets a bit too relaxed the guards start to play around with my camera-cleaning air-blower. They inspect my documents and say “Carlo!! Es Español?”

I naïvely reply with “No – soy Italiano!”, as he smiles and hands me back my British passport…!

A few hours of driving through horizontal snow and rain and we finally arrive in Puerto Natales. It well and truly feels like South America. This Chilean town is full of multi-coloured houses covered with sheets of metal, short locals wrapped up warm from the bitingly cold wind and plenty of authentic, local shops with only a few backpacking tourists stores in the very centre.

Matt and I find an indoor greenhouse of local shops, with hundreds of souvenir items being hand-crafted in front of our eyes. We stock up on supplies for the forthcoming days and then meet the others for dinner at Angelica’s. I’m all steaked out, so I choose a soup, followed by a salmon dish that turns out to be the best meal of the trip to date. It’s then time for bed before the real Chilean adventure begins!

Day 8 (13 November 2009)
Puerto Natale, Torres del Paine

This trip was always going to be about the hiking and the drive to Torres del Paine raises my already high expectations for one of the world’s best trekking destinations.

The snow-topped mountains are simply gorgeous, but the jagged Torres peaks live up to their name, towering over the huge national park. On the way we stop for guanacos, dozens of condors and landscape views of the mountain range with the indescribably blue lakes in the foreground.

Today is a 19km hike along the Rio Ascensio, the right-hand part of the famous ‘W’ route. The landscape changes around every corner as the steady uphill climb takes us through woods, alongside the freezing cold river (from which I adore being able to drink!) and over all types of rocky terrain.

According to the weather forecast, it was supposed to rain, but it turns out to be another stunningly clear day, meaning the contrast of cold, pure Patagonian air is cancelled out by the strong bronzing sun. I feel I’m always writing about how lucky I am with weather, but even the locals are shocked by our fortune; they tell me that since September there has been just one day as clear as today. It means the final, steep climb over the boulders to the base of the Torres is perfect. The towers stand invitingly at the top and every step takes me closer to one of the world’s most stunning locations. However, nothing prepares me or how amazing it is at the top: It’s simply spectacular and is an instant favourite amongst the greatest moments of my life.

The towers at the top of the climb would be impressive enough themselves, but the addition of the lake is just surreal. It’s in the perfect location and I can’t imagine a painter making up a more beautiful mountain scene. I’ve become rather friendly (!) with Susanne from our group, so it’s even more wonderful to sit with her and share such a wonderful view.

It’s mid-afternoon, so the shadows of the towers are creeping across the lake. I can imagine that at the right times of day, it could be an even more unbelievable visual treat, but I’m just thanking the heavens for such great weather. It’s a shame we can’t stay longer, but there’s the hike back to tackle, so we set off, hopping down to our starting point.

There’s a nice lodge at the base, with a bar that has great views across the hike we’ve just completed, so spirits are high as we celebrate with drinks.

An already wonderful day gets even better as we’re driven a few kilometres to a private campsite. We’ve got it all to ourselves and the view is sensational. We sit in a small cabin, with a wood-fire and some excellent food and drink, watching the sun set behind the mountains. The group has bonded so well and we laugh away the evening to an unforgettable day.

Day 9 (14 November 2009)
Torres del Paine

Nearly everyone slept badly. It was insanely cold at night and most people’s sleeping bags only keep you warm down to around -5 degree Celsius. I’m an idiot as my sleeping bag is suitable down to just +9 degrees!

However, the 05.45 sunrise is worth the cold night; the warm sunlight creates a magical red tint on the mountains. It only lasts a few minutes, but I snap away with my cold, numb hands before returning to the tent, with two thermal trousers, a pair of linen trousers, gloves, hat, two pairs of socks and four layers on my top-half. Finally, I get some sleep!

A couple of hours and a warm shower (!) later, I’m ready for another hike. Since sunrise, the clouds have covered the mountain tops and there’s even a dash of snow as we quickly visit the Salto Grande waterfall.

Next is the boat ride across Lago Pehoé. I’d love a photo of this stunningly blue lake with the mountains in the distance, but there’s not enough time on this three day visit.

From our second campsite, we hike an easier 15km along the Valley of the Río Francés. Occasionally the clouds shift and give a glimpse of the incredible scenery, but it’s less of a photographic treat than yesterday.

Nonetheless, it’s still impressive at the base of the Paine Grande, Torres del Paine’s tallest mountain, with glaciers melting into a fast-flowing river back to our starting point. It suggests that the weather can make such an enormous difference on the landscape. Walking back, the blue sky makes an appearance and although we’re retracing our steps, it sometimes feels like a totally different hike.

At the campsite, there’s more fun and drinking; I’m absolutely exhausted from my lack of sleep, so I don’t stay up too late and rest up.

Day 10 (15 November 2009)
Torres del Paine

Some of the group have picked up injuries and others wanted a warm room; it means I get to borrow a (decent!) sleeping bag and I get a much better night’s sleep.

I unzip my one-man tent and it’s like someone has moved me in the middle of the night; the visibility is much better and I realise what a great spot I’m in. After breakfast it’s a much gentler hike of 11km to the Grey Glacier. It’s another day of hugely varying landscapes. I particularly like Lago Grey; it looks so inviting for a pleasant swim, but its numerous floating icebergs say otherwise! There’s a windy peak where we get a great view of the glacier, before returning back to Lago Pehoé for our afternoon boat ride.

It’s a treat to stand on the upper deck of the boat with the sunshine in full force. Yet again the landscape changes with brilliant greens and blues contrasting against the majestic mountain range. I feel there’s so much more to see and I certainly don’t rule out a return to Torres del Paine.

Back in Puerto Natales, I’m amongst a few who opt for a full body deep massage. It’s insanely relaxing and sets me up nicely for another enjoyable dinner. The group really has bonded well and I laugh so much that my sides end up hurting more than my hiking legs!

Day 11 (16 November 2009)
Puerto Natales, Punto Arenas

A four-hour drive and I’m in Punta Arenas. Still on the Pacific coast, it’s cold and windy, yet the sun continues to ignore the weather forecast, so the horizon glistens in the distance. Out hotel is the best so far, but there’s no time to relax as it’s straight for lunch and another steak before our afternoon trip to see penguins!

Our guide is a strange chap who talks in the most monotone voice I’ve ever heard in my life. He waddles along and you could be forgiven for mistaking him for one of the penguins.

Guide aside, it’s a worthwhile trip as the actual penguins are gorgeous. They are frighteningly cute and I have to resist the temptation to take one back with me!

Punta Arenas actually seems like a nice place, but the lack of sleep in Torres del Paine has caught up with me, so in the evening I stay at the hotel with Susanne and we take advantage of the luxuries such as swimming pool and sauna. It’s the perfect way to unwind after an eventful few days and the forthcoming long journey tomorrow.

Day 12 (17 November 2009)
Punta Arenas, Ushuaia

Today was never meant to be a good day. A 12-hour bus ride, including another border crossing, doesn’t exactly jump out of the page as a highlight of the trip. However, it turns into a classic. Sitting at the front of an immensely comfortable double decker coach, with sublime southern Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego views, makes the journey absolutely fly by. Oh, and the beer, bottle of wine and the 500 ml of whiskey helped too…

Matt and I get suitably tipsy whilst the crazy driver slowly makes his way down to the southernmost city in the world. Along the way, there are plenty of events: Crossing the Strait of Magellan and seeing the jumping dolphins, the hilarious two hour wait as the coach gets lodged trying to descend from the ferry ramp and the nearby minefield, which is just begging to be jumped..!

The final few hundred kilometres are stunning. I’m literally at the end of the world and surrounded by gorgeous snow-topped mountains and sea views in nearly every direction.

Ushuaia is also impressive and although it’s one of few departure points to Antarctica, I’m pleased that apart from the main street, it hasn’t lost its “middle of nowhere” town atmosphere. It’s also surrounded by huge mountains and holds a very pleasant port, full of well-travelled ships.

It’s a late and very tasty Italian meal, before my first night at the end of the world.

Day 13 (18 November 2009)
Ushuaia

I’ve no hangover but I’m exhausted from the shortage of sleep, which makes it hard work walking north-west to the viewpoints over Ushuaia. However, it’s a fascinating troll with such variety in building designs, from cute wooden cottages to crumbling shacks that barely look habitable. The stray dogs are everywhere, barking and growling at my every step, but the view at the end is worth it, looking over the town and into the horizon, as I long for the ship that will one day take me to Antarctica.

Back in town, the museums don’t look too inviting, so Susanne and I have a pit-stop drink before meeting our guide, Cynthia, for lunch. She’s awesome and has been so influential in making this trips so special, and it’s wonderful to have a real friend as our tour leader. After lunch, we’ve a journey that involves a four hour boat ride around the islands south of Ushuaia. There are hundreds of tire-looking sea lions and more types of birds than I can possibly imagine, yet the most shocking beast was the grossly overweight five year old kid on the boat who didn’t stop stuffing his face with cookies for the whole journey. He must have had at least four coffees, each with a frightening amount of sugar, as his ignorant mother looked on adoringly. The fat little bugger wouldn’t have looked out of place with the sea-lions…

Once again we’re overwhelmed by the good weather, and the cameras are out for group photos as we all know our holiday is rapidly approaching its end. It’s yet another Italian meal for dinner (I’ve serious withdrawal symptoms from eating so many cows!) as we plan our final day at South America’s southern tip.

Day 14 (19 November 2009)
Ushuaia

It’s raining as we’re driven east of Ushuaia, so I’m wondering whether I’ve made the right choice in opting for the full day of activities. Unbelievably, the moment we arrive, the rain stops and the clouds disappear. Once again I’m thanking Zeus. Susanne, Cynthia, Matt, Dom and I start with some relatively gentle canoeing (although they may argue that I was the only one doing anything ‘gentle’). Again, I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of this part of the world, with rising mountains in every direction, some in Argentina, others on the small Chilean islands south of Tierra del Fuego.

We’re treated to hot pumpkin soup and after we remove our fisherman-like waterproof clothing, walk to a nearby village port. It’s quaint and picturesque, more so now that the sun is in full force. Better still, there’s a lovely local stopping point selling delicious cookies, which I devour like a deprived cookie monster.

A boat takes us to an inhabited island which has two types of penguins, which are cautious when we approach, but it’s still surprising how close I can get without them hobbling away from me amusingly.

We’re sharing the boat with a few others, including some Americans who start talking about the fishy beavers we’ve just seen/ Our group is in a stupidly childish mood and we exchange humorous glances ad the American girls continue to talk about how much they like beavers. I simply can’t control myself when one of them then announces, “All this talk really makes me want to eat beaver!”

We stop at another island, for another relatively short walk before finding a wooden shack that half looks like it’s about to collapse. It all adds to the atmosphere as inside there’s food aplenty and litres of wine.

The beautiful surrounding area is hugely inviting, so with a belly full of cheese and wine, we set off across the island. Our friendly Argentine guide leads us across the island (with Cynthia swooning!), along the woody tracks and varied shores. It’s not a hard walk, but it’s really warm due to the strong sun, so the occasional cool Pacific wind is a welcome relief. It’s a truly great day and I’ll never forget walking on the incredible purple shells that litter the beach on the final few hundred metres back to the boat.

It’s a huge final night at a restaurant that overlooks Ushuaia’s bay. Amanda and Dana provide a hilarious reward ceremony that really summarises how well the group has bonded. The drinking then continues in an Irish bar packed with young backpackers and I’m temporarily chuffed to know I’m in the southernmost Irish bar in the world, only to realise I’ve been stumped by another Irish bar that’s just 100m down the road!

Day 15 (20 November 2009)
Ushuaia, Buenos Aires

Surprisingly, I don’t feel too bad, despite just having four hours of sleep. Some of the group look like Death, so I count myself lucky for the flight back to Buenos Aires. It’s a roller coaster of emotions as I leave Ushuaia’s airport (I can’t imagine a more beautiful location for an airport) and wave goodbye to Southern Argentina.

Buenos Aires’ city buzz and modern liveliness feels like I’m already home and my thoughts immediately return to the surreal memories that I’ve collected over the past two weeks.

In the afternoon, Matt, Susanne and I explore the area around the president’s building where there’s another demonstration; this time it’s political flags everywhere, with countless references to Che Guevara. We play frogger to get across the busy road the separates the centre from the Puerta Madero and it’s like the road has separated two entirely different cities. The marine is full of modern bars, restaurants and incredibly trendy high rise apartment buildings. It reminds me of Canary Wharf in London and it’s good to stop for a quick beer in the sun.

Even more out of place than the modern buildings is the natural reserve, which sits east of the city. Its swamp-like features feel like I’ve just travelled 200 years into the future to find a flooded city.

A taxi takes us back through the skyscrapers and American company logos and back to the hotel just in time to catch the rest of the group. It’s our final night together so we return to the Puerto Madero and find the Cabaña Las Lilas restaurant. Despite it being full of businessmen, the staff are surprisingly unpretentious and the food excellent.

Day 16 (21 November 2009)
Buenos Aires

Most of the group has left and I’ve missed the chance to say goodbye. It’s a real shame as it has been an outstanding group and I certainly want for us all to keep in touch.

Susanne and I head towards Palermo Viejo, which is a cool area full of independent shops. It’s finally raining today (after waiting two weeks for rain in Patagonia, it’s a bit strange to find it here!) so we chill in a nice little bar with freshly made fruit cocktails.

It’s great to then meet up with a friend who has moved here from Brooklyn and we catch up over beers in an area littered with lively bars amongst all the young locals. In fact, it’s such a great area that I return with Matt and Dom for my final evening in Buenos Aires.

It turns out to be a hilarious end to an unforgetful trip. After all, Argentines are famous for their late-nights, so it’s only right that we don’t get back to the hotel until 05.30; I forget to set my alarm, temporarily lose my passport and then have a last minute panic for my 13 hour flight home!