Spring Time...Almost

While Toronto has been suffering in -15C temperatures and heavy snow, I've been out enjoying the beautiful weather here. Some days I've still needed a big jacket to walk around, but I think the fact that my face isn't suffering from frostbite is a huge win.

On Sunday, I was at the beach without my shirt on, soaking up the glorious sunshine. Given it's still "winter" here, the beach was relatively empty so it was nice to just relax and chill. I had brunch at Little Fern, run by a couple of Kiwi expats, and then I went and did some shopping around the city. On Saturday, I was walking around the Arc de Triomf and Parc de la Ciutadella. The fountain of Neptune was ironically switched off, like the Font Magica at Montjuic, due to the water restrictions, but there were still a lot of people around - some dancers at the top, some crossfitters to the side and buskers at the base. It was a really vibrant area, with several of the park's parrots chirping from the trees.

Yesterday was so warm that I went out to the Gothic Quarter in search of a suizo - a chocolate drink made from melting dark chocolate with hot milk. Even after work, it was still warm enough for me to sit under a marquee at 8.30pm and enjoy a fantastic Italian meal of home-made pasta and seafood. Today, it's raining, bringing some much needed relief to the area. I'll be relocating to another friend's place on Sunday, and he has a brainless ginger cat that I'll be sure to dote upon.

Work has been very busy. European time has been both good for productivity, since the mornings are quiet and I'm completely focused on hammering out some great code, but also exhausting since by the time I start to wind down in the evenings, everyone is coming online and starting to ask me questions. It'll be even more chaotic when I switch to Malaysian time, but we'll see how that goes. Maybe I can do some midnight to 8am thing, and then sleep in the afternoon and wake up for dinner?


Bon Any Nou!

Due to turbulence on the Toronto to Ponta Delgada flight, they ended up serving us dinner quite late, so I only managed a few hours of shut eye before the plane landed in the Azores. I rushed through immigration - it's a small airport and my transfer time of one hour was more than enough, and the immigration officer welcomed me into the Schengen without any fuss. I slept again on the leg to Barcelona, and landed just after 1pm. I had told Marc I was arriving on that day, at that time, and he texted me a few minutes before landing to say that I'd have to wait four hours for him to get home as he was taking his friend to Montserrat.

...

So I sat at the airport. Due to a miscommunication, Marc thought that he was going to pick me up from the terminal but I meant that I was going to wait at the airport until 5.30pm and then take the metro to his place and meet him there. As a result, we were only able to meet up at 6.30pm. I was tired and running on 4 hours of sleep, but Marc had a date to go to, so I ended up cooking dinner for myself and his friend from Chile, who was also staying with us for the next couple of weeks.

I struggled a bit with the jet lag, waking up for a few hours during the night and then sleeping from 5am to 11am. I felt lethargic during the day, and my efforts to adjust to the time zone were ruined by us going clubbing on Saturday night/Sunday morning. We went to this massive multi-room dance club called Razzmatazz, and hung out in the Pop Bar for most of the time. I would have been the fifth oldest person there, and I was surprised that they played songs I recognised - Spice Girls, Britney, Backstreet, even as far back as the Eurhythmics. I even danced a bit, especially when LMFAO's Party Rock Anthem came on. We left around 4am, passing by a xurreria where famed Catalan singer Rosalia had shot a music video.

On New Year's Eve, we headed out to Plaza Espaņa around 10.30pm. It was packed already, we found a spot on the main road leading towards the Magic Fountain. Due to the drought, the fountain wouldn't be operating, but a drone show with lights and fireworks was scheduled instead. And what a show it was! It was honestly the best New Year's celebration I've ever seen. The drones flew into formations of sea creatures as a reference to the America's Cup being held here later in the year, the fireworks were vibrant and spectacular, the music really lifted the mood in the crowd. Suddenly we heard four chimes of a bell, signalling the start of the Spanish tradition of eating one grape per second leading up to midnight, each grape successfully consumed granting good luck for each month ahead. I don't know how many I managed to stuff into my mouth, but on the stroke of midnight, the drones had flown into a series of horizontal rings and began to shoot sparks towards the ground. The show continued for another 10 minutes or so, with the drones continuing to morph into various shapes, at one time spelling out BARCELONA as the fireworks continued. As the main festivities died down, the crowd began to move slowly towards the exits, with the subway staying packed for a good hour or so afterwards. I lost sight of the other two, but I wanted to walk around and check out the vibe in the city. I would have gotten home around 2.15am.

On New Year's Day, Monday, we rushed to the Bunkers to catch the sunset. It was a lovely day with blue skies, not too cold. On the way down, we got into a heated argument about racism and exploitation of indigenous communities. A++ experience. On Tuesday, I got to explore the city by myself. I ran a few errands in the morning, but spent most of the day just walking around Plaza Catalunya and the Gran Via. On the way home, I stopped by Glories to pick up some groceries, as well as a damn chopping knife for the apartment since I'd been stuck using a steak knife to chop garlic for the past few days. On Wednesday, it was back to work, but since most people are still out, it's been quiet. The mornings are nice since no one else is awake, so I can get a lot done in preparation for the rest of the day. This Saturday is Epiphany and the Three Kings Parade will be on, and we'll be celebrating with Tortell de Reyes, a torus-shaped cake with a toy hidden inside - whoever gets the slice with the toy gets to wear a crown!


The Annual Migration

The time has come to escape winter again. I’m back at Pearson’s Terminal 3 waiting for my flight to Ponta Delgada in the Azores, travelling onwards to Barcelona.

The past month has been busy and stressful. There’s been Christmas parties and dinners to go to, people to see and many, many things to sort out. My accommodation in Barcelona partially fell through and I had to scramble to find an alternative arrangement. Coincidentally, a month’s accommodation in Barcelona is approximately the same price as a return ticket to Kuala Lumpur, and with my parents flying back for Chinese New Year in February, I decided to join them for the whole month. So, that’s exciting and partially solves my problem; the remaining time in Barcelona was filled with Airbnb and another friend’s very kind offer.

I’m also spending a few nights in Amsterdam because I got food poisoning the last time and missed a few things there. I’ll be more careful this time - no more smoked salmon wrap from the Van Gogh Museum.

It’s kinda unnerving. Two months in a country where I don’t really know the native language (I’ve been trying really hard on Duolingo) and with very little support network. I’m hoping it all works out. My company has very kindly agreed to all my timezone changes and I’m so lucky to work for someone that lets me travel like this.

Adios!


Santiago

Our time in South America is about to end. What an incredible two weeks it’s been. Mentally and physically exhausting, but experiences and scenery I’ll never forget. I’m looking forward to speaking English and my bed. I’m not looking forward to the cold and the dark.

After arriving in Santiago from Puerto Natales, we took an Uber to a restaurant near our Airbnb and I was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. I had been given a warning saying the food in Chile wasn’t that great so my expectations had been set really low. I think the only issue I’ve had with the food here is that they tend to prefer their proteins well done, instead of medium rare or medium. We spent the afternoon walking around La Moneda and the Plaza de Armas. I always thought that Latin Americans had late meals; since our lunch was so late in the afternoon, we only started looking for dinner at 8pm or so, and surprisingly some restaurants had already started closing. We did find this peculiar restobar named after Bill Clinton, and I had a traditional Chilean beef stew - cazuela de vacuno.

The next day, we covered pretty much all the remaining sights of the city. We walked to Santa Lucia Hill, Central Market (I found it awful and smelly, and I hate people yelling at me to eat at their restaurants), Vega Central and took the funicular to Cerro San Cristobal. We found a nice ice cream place near Santa Lucia and we got empanadas pinos from near Central Market. At Cerro San Cristobal, we walked around a bit but it was too hot to do much. We visited the Japanese Garden and had a nice view of the Sky Costanera. After taking the gondola and funicular back to the Bellavista side, we split for dinner. I went to this fine dining restaurant specializing in traditional Andean food with heavy emphasis on pre-colonial ingredients and techniques.

We had heard a recommendation for “a beach two hours away” from someone at the ice cream place and though no one thought to get the name of the beach, I knew he was talking about Valparaiso. It was on my maybe list, I didn’t think we would have time to visit but as I covered most of my list, and as the others seemed pretty keen on going, I told them to do some research and figure out how to get there. First step was buying a Bip Card for the subway, which was relatively straightforward, bar one question in Spanish I didn’t understand but did anticipate. Second step was going to the bus terminal and buying tickets. I wanted to leave the whole day’s logistics up to the others for a change. We tried to use the machines for one bus company but they wouldn’t work, so while the others lined up at the cashier, I wandered over to the other bus company and managed to get tickets through that.

The bus ride was around 90 minutes and took us through some of Chile’s wine growing region. Upon arriving, we went to a nearby shopping mall because we needed to use the bathrooms and didn’t want to have to pay for it at the bus station, and then we had to wait for Phoebe to buy a jacket because it was cold outside and she didn’t bring one despite Nancy nagging us to earlier in the morning. We split shortly after, I walked to the west side of town to check out some of the historic sights, the rest of them went to the beach. On my way back to the bus station, I went down to the water and saw a group of seals resting on a platform. Overall, it was okay, I don’t regret going to Valparaiso, it just wasn’t as amazing as a bunch of reviews had said it was.

We took the bus back to Santiago and transferred to the subway to go to Sky Costanera, the tallest building in South America. I was aiming to be there for the sunset and we made it in good time. For some reason, there was a capoeira performance happening on the upper deck of the tower, which was fun to watch. As the sun slipped behind the mountains to the west, the city’s lights flickered on. It was a nice way to spend our last night in Chile.


Patagonia

We arrived into Punta Arenas Airport a few minutes early, and our bus to Puerto Natales was still a couple of hours away, so we took our time and had breakfast (which turned out to be quite expensive). Punta Arenas is the furthest south I’ve ever been, at 53 degrees below the equator. The bus ride took three hours, but I was asleep for most of it.

We spent the day doing food shopping for our big hike, and a bit of time being a tourist around town too. A games shop that we passed by was selling Watch Dogs Legion for 25,000 Chilean pesos! I had a delicious lamb dinner at a local parrilla and then it was time to go home and pack.

Our first day of the W Trek was frought with logistical problems. Someone in the group deleted the emails with her bus tickets. Someone wanted to go to the toilet just as we were boarding. No one had cash except me to pay for the shuttle bus (I was hoping to use some cash to pay for food as a nice treat at the end of the hike) but at least the shuttle saved us two or so hours of walking. When we arrived at the Central campsite, I had forgotten to get the campsite reservation number but they were able to find me by name. Also I found out I didn’t book sleeping bags, but thankfully it was easy to add to our reservation. Despite all of this, the hike up to Base Las Torres was stunning. We followed the river through the valley up to the Chileno campsite, had lunch there and continued up the ridge. Along the way, a rescue team was carting away what looked like a body bag in a wheelbarrow; someone later confirmed that that was exactly what it was. The last half hour of the ascent was especially grueling, but at last, the three famous rock towers came into view. It was emotional, after walking that much. I felt it was harder than Gros Mourne, but so much more rewarding. The ice floating on the azure glacial lake was so picturesque. I spent an hour at the top waiting for the rest of the group, they arrived close to 4pm, we took some photos together and I started heading back down.

On the way down, I saw a man carrying his baby in a backpack chair, and a poor park ranger carrying a young girl with a sprained ankle. There was also a team of skiers heading up the mountain. I made it back to the campsite at 7.30pm, checked-in and had dinner, then waited for the rest of them. After an hour, they still hasn’t showed up. I asked passers-by if they’d seen them, with not much luck. Finally at 9pm, I started walking back to the trail to find them and sure enough, there they were, finally making it back to the campsite at 9.30pm. The skies were still clear as the sun was setting and I would have loved to do some star gazing, but I ended up passing out in my elevated tent.

Day two was less intense. We followed the path along Lake Nordenskjöld, another beautiful blue glacial lake, crossing a suspension bridge halfway through. I was out of water by that point, but the water is straight from glaciers and is safe to drink, so I refilled my bottle with freshly melted water. Along the way, I could hear the low rumbling of avalanches occurring on the mountains. I reached Cuernos, the first campsite, at 2.30pm, while the others were an hour behind; it took me another 90 minutes to reach Frances, our destination for the day. As I waited for the others, it began to drizzle slightly. When they arrived, we checked in and had dinner. The next day would be the hardest hike, but I had heard some people saying it wasn’t worth going to the Británico Lookout if it was cloudy.

Thankfully I woke up to some glorious sun on the third day. I was hiking by myself the whole day, free to go at my own pace without waiting for anyone. I walked from the Frances Campsite to Italiano and dropped my main backpack there, then took my daypack up to Mirador Frances, a lookout over a mountain and several glaciers. I heard a few avalanches while on the hike, but wasn’t able to capture any on film. From Frances, I continued to Británico, the final point on the hike, a panoramic view of these stunning mountains and glaciers. I was back to Italiano to pick up my backpack and head to Paine Grande, the next campsite. The whole round trip took me under six hours, including lunch time. The hike to Paine Grande took me just under 2.5 hours, a relatively easy hike past Lake Sköttsberg. On the way, the devastation of a forest fire from 12 years ago was evident, with thousands of barren trees lining the hillside. The wind was strong as I walked, but the sun was out for most of the time, so it wasn’t too cold. As a reward for such a long hike, I treated myself to a buffet dinner at the campsite’s restaurant. Finally some hot, cooked food after three days! Chicken! Beef! Rice! Fresh salad! Chocolate mousse! Strawberry mousse! Hot tea! I demolished two plates (and two desserts), but as I watched people put their trays away, I was appalled at the amount of food being wasted. Naturally after eating so much, I was ready to food coma.

The strong winds continued throughout the night; at some points during my sleep, it felt like the tent was about to be lifted into the air. Luckily, the equipment held strong, and probably all the extra weight from the buffet helped to anchor everything down. However, it was a different story on the hiking trail. As we ascended up the valley, the gusts began to pick up dramatically, close to 100kph. The smallest in my group, a 4’11” 50kg woman, had to tether herself to me to stop being blown away. It was so strong that even I was losing balance at some points. It was brutal fighting against both gravity and the force of the wind. Eventually, Lake Grey came into view and with it, the Grey Glacier. I was taken aback by how big it was, a massive wall of ice stretching several kilometers into the distance. Eventually after the first lookout, the winds began to die down as we descended closer to the lake. What should have taken us three hours took us five hours, and we finally arrived at Campsite Grey after 3pm. While I was waiting for the ladies to check in, I walked up to the nearby lookout to get a closer view of some of the ice chunks that had broken off the glacier and floated to the shore.

After all of that, I decided to reward myself with another hot meal. I didn’t think it would be another buffet considering how small the restaurant was, but I was pleasantly surprised. This time, they only let me have one piece of meat; the previous day, I had managed to get one piece of chicken and one piece of beef after everyone had had their first round. I was ready to food coma again in anticipation of the fifth and final day.

The last day had a slow start because we only needed to be ready to go kayaking at 10.30am. However, we soon discovered that the high winds were too strong so both the 9am and our session at 11am were cancelled. This was really disappointing but understandable. The currents on the lake looked swift and it would have been dangerous to head out. Luckily we get a full refund in case of weather cancellation, and it also meant we could start the hike back to Paine Grande earlier. I walked with them until the halfway point, which took us two hours, then I gapped it for the end, which took me another two hours.

Upon arriving, I discovered that the ferry to the bus station required cash and I didn’t have enough after paying for the shuttle bus for all of us. The campsite reception assured me I could sort it out with the boat company, and that this happens often. Anyway, I bought myself a large hot chocolate to celebrate the end of five days of hiking. A phenomenal 181,295 steps and 113.9km in some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve seen on this planet. I’m so glad I did it.

The others arrived about 30 mins after me, and thankfully had USD cash to pay for the ferry. We managed to get on the early boat; I didn’t think there would be that many people and they ended up having to turn some people away.

What would I have done differently? Probably started booking accommodation earlier. The refugios (cabins) and domos (domes with bunk beds) were really nice and well equipped. The tents were okay but I wouldn’t say no to more comfortable accommodation. I would have tried to buy a better variety of food and only for breakfast and lunch; the restaurants are excellent and only buying dinners would have lightened the load. Also I should have brought more cash, and somehow I also blame my friends for not bringing their own. This was a once in a lifetime trip and I was reasonably lucky with the weather until the last day.