It all began on Christmas Eve, somewhere in the South Atlantic. It was a dark and stormy night … Advertisements
The Falklands – or Las Malvinas, as they are called in Argentina – hove on to my mental horizon on a windy day, threatening rain, in Bariloche, northern Patagonia.
When I saw the plume of spray erupting from the knobbly, broccoli-headed swathe of trees as the plane came into land, like steam pouring from a boiling kettle, I knew … Continue reading Through the jungle with a violet umbrella: Iguazu Falls
I arrived in Ushuaia on the night of Friday 11 December, after a 14 hour bus trip from Punta Natales in Chile that would have been gruelling if I hadn’t … Continue reading If You Go Down to the Woods Today …
Buenos Aires has its problems: obviously a big one is poverty, manifested clearly in things like the street children you see regularly on the subte (underground), the cartoneros (rubbish pickers) rummaging … Continue reading Hasta luego tango town