The W Trek

DAY ONE: Our 7:50 am bus into the park was, simply put, the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen. Grassy plains and rolling hills gave way to razor sharp, snow-capped mountains piercing movie poster skies. The massive granite spires that give the park its name (Torres del Paine means blue towers in an indigenous language) rose dramatically above rainbows, emerald blue lakes and sun bathing guanacos (a wild, southern version of an alpaca). The experience was only tempered by our vantage through muddy bus windows, rumbling down winding gravel roads.

The bus dropped us off at a dock where we caught a ferry across another sky blue lake. After a 30 minute trip, we laced up our boots and hiked 7 miles to the first campsite. After setting up camp, we walked another half mile to the edge of Lago Grey where we had a view of the Glacier by the same name. We broke of chunks of an iceberg to chill our whiskey. We had a relaxed dinner and a comfortable evening. There had been no signs of the infamous Patagonia wind until the moment we crawled into our sleeping bags. All night the gusts tested the strength of Clay’s cozy 2 person tent. It survived, but I had a sleepless first night.

DAY TWO: 7 miles of backtracking plus another 3 miles to the next campsite. The wind and rain from the night before continued well into the afternoon, often threatening to knock us off our feet while we hiked. The destination, Campamento Italiano, was soggy and sad looking.

DAY THREE: The weather was perfect, the views were spectacular, the lakes were tranquil, and the beer at the end tasted especially good. It had been almost three exhausting miles uphill to Mirador Britanico and an additional 6.5 miles to the next camp site. Refugio Cuernos was charming and beautifully situated. A fun night sipping whiskey and throwing rocks at other rocks (boys will be boys?) capped a great day.

DAY FOUR: The fourth day should have been the toughest, but by then my legs seemed to be getting stronger. We powered through 11 miles and a few steep climbs. Shortly after lunch we were stopped on a bluff by some other hikers who pointed to the grassy plains below. A  large puma (!) was lazily wandering through the brush. Moments later, I had to nudge Clay, who was focused on the puma through the lens of his camera, when a massive condor flew 30 feet over our heads.

DAY FIVE: Weather permitting, day five begins with a dark hike up a steep mountain to an alpine lake where the view of the iconic towers basking in the golden glow of the rising sun is supposed to be life changing. After an entire night of rain, we had no reason to think we’d be so lucky, but we woke at 530am and climbed 2 miles in the snow anyways, knowing we’d regret not knowing if the clouds broke. They did not. Disappointed, we hiked back down to camp in the pouring rain. Packing up our wet clothes and soggy tent was a challenge, and the hike out was a slog. We were wet and cold, and our water-logged packs were heavier than usual. But the hot chocolate at the end of the 7 miles tasted all the better.

The trek had been spectacular. Too crowded at times, and being confined to busy campgrounds wasn’t perfect. But the standardized itinerary meant that we saw the same people every night. We’d made some friends, and it was fun to decompress back in Puerto Natales with the group from the trail.

Clay

( For the few of you that don't know, Clay and I worked together at And Company for several years and became close friends. We're like minded, except that he's better at taking pictures than me. He lugged a fancy camera around Patagonia, so I recommend checking out his blog. Images from our trip may or may not be posted by the time you read this, but they will be up soon. http://moldable.tumblr.com )

The ease of meeting like minded people has been one of the best parts of travelling, but after a while the pattern of conversation gets a little tiresome. Where are you from? Germany. Israel. Australia. How long have you been traveling? 2 weeks. 5 months. 3 years. Where? South America. North America. Colombia is incredible. You're from the US? What's with your gun laws? California?? Oooh cool. Los Angeles? Oh, I liked San Francisco better. And so it begins, every time.

So it was a welcome relief when I opened the front door of my hostel to find Clay standing in the dark, grinning. It was after midnight, and he was weary from nearly 36 hours of traveling. We made a plan to get up early the next morning and join a guided tour to a penguin colony, but that didn’t stop us from heading to a nearby bar for a beer. The drinks were on me, in a belated celebration of his 30th birthday.

The next morning we awoke at 530 and walked for 30 minutes in the dark only to find that the remaining 8 spots on the penguin tour had been filled. Oh well, I heard they’re stinky anyways.

Instead, we walked down to the beach and caught a spectacular sunrise, a decent breakfast, and an earlier bus to our first destination: Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine National Park.

Rio De Janeiro

Rio has a rough reputation, but I found it to be far more comfortable, modern, and clean than either Salvador or Recife. It feels more European, which is nice, but I'm also glad to have spent so much time in the more "Brazilian" north. And, not to sound naive, but I haven't felt in danger once here. Rio is stunning and the people are attractive, and bars and street parties have a great vibe. Cariocas are very active. There are many more people juggling soccer balls (often competitvely) and running and swimming at the beach here than there were in Salvador or Recife. One complaint: it's nearly impossible to find a good beer in this country. Anything imported tends to be quadruple the price of the domestic garbage.

When I arrived I met up with Nicola again, making Rio the 3rd Brazilian city we've seen together. We were a bit lazy with our schedule - Its always hard to turn down Caipirinhas on the beach. The last two days were a little busier, and after 4 days I've seen most of what Id want to in Rio. I could spend much more time here though.

I spent Thursday night with a group of coaches, "sports engineers" and athletes (including this guy, and a couple of the strongest looking men and women I've ever met)  from the British Olympic canoeing team. Apparently all that muscle can hold a lot of beer. They could DRINK. I couldn't keep up.

Itacaré

February 19th - 23rd. After a week of Carnaval, it was time to hit the beach. Itacaré is known as a chilled-out, hippie surfing town with dozens of world class beaches. The weather didn’t always cooperate, but the rain was refreshing and the bursts of sunshine were good enough. I spent one day surfing (or trying) and two lounging. The ocean was just what I needed. Although I squandered all the R+R by staying up all night on my last night there…I also caught the last night of Itacare’s carnaval, and spent much of the night dancing happily in the rain to bad Brazilian music.

Salvador Carnaval

February 14th - 19th. Carnaval is a national passion in brazil. It doesn’t seem to have a specific beginning or end, because pre and post parties abound, and different cities celebrate different dates. I spent a night and a day during Carnaval in Recife, but celebrations were happening the whole week i was there. Often the party is overwhelming, but not because it was over saturated with tourists, as I’d feared. I was happy to discover that its still a very brazilian celebration; it’s cool to see an entire country celebrating together. The grand opening in Recife was the highlight of carnaval, but there were great moments throughout the week and a half of parties. One of my best memories is also one of my worst, and also maybe the most Brazil-in-a-nutshell, if that’s possible. The first night out in Barra, the center of the Salvadorian Carnaval, I was with a group of 6. One of the girls, a sweet but tough looking German, was wearing a cross neclace worth about 20 bucks. But it was shiny enough to catch the attention of a theif, who tried to rip it off her neck. When she resisted, he punched her in the face. She bled a bit, but was mostly just shaken up. I saw the scrum and rushed over. I was too late to really help, but I dragged her away from the crowd while everything settled down. As bad as that was, the next 45 minutes showed what are, in my opinion, Brazil’s true colors. The number of people that stopped to help, the time they spent with us, and the ways they helped us were inspiring. Several women tried to get her to laugh and start dancing again immediately, almost as if her safety depended on it. That shed some light on Brazil’s famous “Joie de Vivre.” No matter how bad things get - and they get pretty bad - most people here fight it with laughter. And that’s never more visible than at Carnaval.

Recife

February 6th - 14th. Lynn and I took an overnight bus from Lençois to Feira de Santana, a place without much to offer tourists, but it wasn’t wasted time. We had a great day exploring fruit markets and restaurants with a local friend of Lynn’s, Julianna. By 5pm we were back at the bus station and headed to Recife.

I spent a full week in Recife with Lynn and the family she had gotten to know during her first visit to Brazil 3 years before. We stayed in a slum called Chao De Estrelas. On the surface, Recife is a rough place - there is a constant struggle to keep children there off drugs, it is dirty, it smells of rotting everything, it’s loud (for example, people install massive street-facing stereo systems into cars and trucks, then drive around neighborhoods blasting commercials), and the food is always the same rice, beans and meat. But, the city has a personality that grows on you. Never have I seen so many people dancing, drumming, and smiling. And they throw a hell of a Carnival party. The slums have a sense of community that wealthier neighborhoods often lack. The family I spent much of the week with was kind and inviting despite the language barrier, and there always seemed to be some relative ready to take us to lunch or a dance performance. I was sad to leave.

At the airport in Recife, a guy near me was rather suddenly surrounded by a pack of fans and cameras. He was amazingly patient, and greeted every one of the 50-75 (no exaggeration)  people that approached him with a warm smile. I couldnt help but think of Los Angeles, where - for better or worse - the people and the celebrities are too cool to care. It turned out to be Saulo Fernandes, one of Salvador’s headlining Carnaval acts. The fist ad I saw in the airport two hours later featured his giant headshot. I was happy (lucky?) to stumble into his concert a few days later. His music sucked, but no worse than most Brazilian pop/rock, and I almost liked it because, you know, he’s my buddy now.

Some other highlights in Recife: trying (and mostly failing) to break-dance, the sound of 50 drums in a narrow street, the old woman who walked by at a bus stop and fondly pinched my chin, smiled, and carried on her way, and the juice of more fruits than I knew existed.

Lençois and Chapada Diamantina

January 29th - February 4th. I left Salvador a few days later than I expected, and jumped on a 7 hour bus to Lençois. I arrived at midnight with no hostel reservation, but with a little help I found my way to Hostel Dos Duendes (two gnomes?). I immediately met Lynn. It was late and our conversation was brief, but we were fast friends. We’d end up spending the next two weeks travelling together.

I woke up at 8 the next morning - early for me, but not early enough. I missed the chance to book a trip into the park. So I spent the day exploring the town and surroundings. The town of Lençois is quaint and charming. During the day the streets are empty. They come alive in the evening when people return from trips into the national park, Chapada Diamantina. There are no cars on the “main” roads, which are cobbled and covered with candle-lit tables.

I spent a couple more mostly uneventful days in the town and park, and arranging a 4 day trek. I’d met Puma, a tall, slender, soft spoken  guy that seemed entirely too laid back to be known as one of the best guides in Lençois. Puma and I made a basic plan and then I recruited four people to join us: Lynn, Zaza, Nicola, and Lucia. Puma recruited another guide, who spoke no English except for the occasional “Heeeeey Bradge Pitch” (Hey Brad Pitt). Before we even left, Puma said our group had “good vibes,” which seemed like a compliment he didn’t take lightly. And he was right. The next four days were perfect. We hiked about 7 miles a day through dense jungle, climbing steep, hidden trails and scrambling up faces of waterfalls. The park seemed a bit like a tropical Yosemite.

Salvador

January 23rd - 28th. The first two days were a bit of a challenge. I only met a couple of English speakers in the first 36 hours, and was surprised by how little of what I tried to say in English or broken Spanish was understood by anyone else. I started to wonder if meeting people - at least in Brazil - would be as difficult as I feared, and not as easy as I was told.

After two uneventful nights I changed hostels and was immediately surrounded by like-minded travelers and English speakers. Things started to get much, much easier. The next two days were great. Florent, Vincent, Mitch, Adal and I spent most of 48 hours together - at the beach, in the pool at the hostel, or in the city.

Departure

January 23rd. Departure was a whirlwind. It felt like a 3 week scramble to get ready, and suddenly I was on a plane. But the send-off could hardly have been better. At the airport, the woman that checked me in noticed my height and offered me a seat with more legroom. I settled into my seat, able to fully stretch my legs, took a deep breath, and felt relaxed (though still a bit... anxious?) for the first time in weeks. The departure was finally setting in...

Five minutes into the flight I started talking with a pair of chatty middle-aged Peruvian women sitting next to me. 10 minutes into the flight one of them had offered to put me up in Lima and to introduce me to her daughter, whenever I get there. Things were off to a quick start.