First Japanese impressions

今日は　！

For the few of you who are uncomfortable with the Japanese language: it means hello. What, you can't read it? Mmmh. Ok. So I guess I have to write it differently then.　こんにちは！ Still not helping? Ok... Listen, I'm not getting paid to teach you Japanese, but I'll make an effort  this time: you pronounce it 'con nitchi wa' (this is the American way of prounouncing it; for French, German, Somalian or Yiddish prononciations, get lost). 

Anyway. I arrived in Japan 2 1/2 weeks ago, and it feels like I arrived 2 1/2 weeks ago. Haven't seen much of Kyoto yet (but certainly more than most of you, AH!), just basic things like a few temples and shrines (I hope I will understand the difference between those two before I leave), 

BONUS:  Japanese traditional wedding !

BONUS: People wearing Kimono!

BONUS: flowers!

What else... Ah, yeah, cherry blossom trees (AKA さくら, sakura) and that kind of crap. yeah, this is April, Spring on this hemisphere, so cherry trees are blossoming like hell. 

You have the choice between pink... 

...and white sakura.

And the only thing those crazy Japanese people seem to be doing during this period is to sit in groups, with friends or family, under those trees and chat and eat and for some, get wasted. Must be the Japanese interpretation of the word orgy. I didn't really attend a flower-viewing party (hanami, はなみ), since I was still stuck in Chile, so after I arrived I just sat alone under one cherry tree, bought myself for the first and last time a plastic box of sushi to go, and pretended I had a good time by myself. 

This is kind of lame now that I think about it, as the whole concept of hanami is to be with other people. Luckily my 2nd and 3rd personalities had stopped by to keep me company!

Otherwise, what is there to tell you... Oh, here's a nice story, guys! On the 2nd day, after washing tons of smelly clothes blemished by weeks of wandering in third-world countries (like Argentina and Chile), I went out to seek a cheap bike. The center of Kyoto is relatively flat, and everybody goes by bike here. And when there is an opportunity to spare subway tickets, be sure I'll grab it. 

Of course, after about 3 minutes, I got lost. I asked a few people in the streets if they had a clue where I could find a cheap bike, which, in my broken Japanese, wasn't an easy task. 

But I asked this old guy (Kuni-san), and we started talking (by talking, I mean him speaking Japanese and me nodding, having no idea of what was going on). His Japenglish was not that good but I could understand that he had asked me where I come from, and that he was delighted to hear that I'm French. Finally! Somebody with taste!

Then he said that he had a bike that he doesn't use, and that I could have it for my time in Kyoto. 

The best thing in this story is that it doesn't end with a rape attempt, a mugged purse or a headless Claire eaten by rats in a dump. Come on, those things don't happen in Japan! Those people don't have feelings! No passion, no desire, no envy, means no crime. Never wondered why the crime rates are so high in Italy? (reminder: if you were born with the 'sarcasm' gene, please activate it now)

So I got back to his place (FYI, I'm taller than him, so I wasn't feeling any threatened) - turns out Kuni-san lives 5 minutes away from the International House - and he showed me my bike-to-be. We had tea, exchanged numbers and mail address, and agreed to meet again the following week. Which we did: I met his wife Yaeko-san, and they invited me for lunch, then had a nice stroll.  So now I have my own private Japanese old couple! And the bike is great. Yeeeah! Japanese people may be up-tight, but they still rock.

Otherwise, daily life has settled. I go to the university, visit a few things here and there, try no to get drunk too often... I'll tell you more about it one of these days. 

Next week I'm going to Shikoku, so no news during 2 weeks. Hopefully I'll have some couchsurfing stories involving... you know what... to tell.

See you around! 

Claire 

Hong Kong

Dear readers,

It's been a while that I haven't written anything. It's a bit hard for me, as I feel this blog reached its apotheosis with the last messages about Chile. I can't imagine to experience crazier stuff than what I did back there... But hey, I'm in Japan now, so EVERYTHING is possible, and count on me to get myself in as much trouble as possible...  

This message is still not about Japan. Still have to report my Hong Kong 5 hours stop, between Los Angeles and Osaka! Have to warn you though, nothing stressful happened. So no need to prepare an adrenaline shot before reading this message.  

 

On the 7th of April, the last thing I did before leaving the Americas was kissing my libido goodbye, then boarded the plane to Asia. The flight to Hong Kong lasted 14h30. I would describe it as... a huge, massive pain in the ass. Literally. Cathay Pacific Airways rocks, the food was great (no Easter special roasted duck to my great joy), lots of different films or series or songs to hear or watch, the guy next to me was funny - though he said I looked like Steffi Graf... But at some point, exactly after the 8th hour, you're like... Oh, what, another 4h30 to go??? I'll never survive that long! Then it's even worse when you realise you're crap and made a mistake, and that you still have 6h30 to go. Maths were never my strength.

At that point you'll  loose faith in humanity - if you still had some. Because there is nothing left to do: your eyes are melting because you've been sitting 40 cm away from a screen since 8h; your ears are begging you to deactivate the repeat mode you set on 'London Calling', your leg muscles stopped responding to the synapses after the first film and you're just a thrombosis away from falling in the toilet hole, if you manage to pull yourself together and pound your fat to the bathroom to refresh yourself.

The worst part is that you know you can't sleep. I boarded on Saturday at 1pm, hence I wasn't tired, and knew I would be arriving in Hong Kong at 6:30pm. No, I didn't spend 29h30 in a plane, people: don't you listen? I couldn't sleep when I should have and couldn't when I wanted (great example of the different meanings of the word 'I could'). So after watching Twilight, the beginning of Carnage and some SATC, I got bored. I wrote the second and last posts about Chile. Then got bored again, besides my eyes were starting to bleed due to an overdosis of screens. So I started meditating. But then they served us dinner. So I decided to get pissed and ordered their best wine, then a second glass, then a third. Then... a fourth? Things got dizzy at that point. But the wine was ok. 

And then, finally! I understand the feeling that sailors must have had when somebody on the ship first saw a piece of land, after neverending weeks or months of hard labour on shipboard. Hong Kong, at last! After 14h30 of bedsores, boredom, drunkenness. Asia! The new world! Well, the second new world. Well this wasn't enough to rouse me from my torpor, it wasn't until I got this passport stamped that I could understand where I was. 

The schedule of my next flight could enable me to spend 5 hours on the spot. So I took the train from the Airport to Victoria, AKA Hong Kong Island. Here's a map. Needless to say which program I used? 

20 minutes and the equivalent of 10€ less later, I arrived in Victoria. Time was limited so I hurried my ass around the city and headed straight to the famous escalators: the longuest outdoor escalator system of the world, built in 1993. They cover a distance of about 800 meters and an elevation of 130 meters, and run down from 6 till 10 am, then up until midnight. It's actually a bunch of about 10 to 15 escalators, it's not just one. And best of all: it's for free!

Going up

I stopped at about Hollywood Road and looked for the Man Mo temple, which is famous for... closing too early??? This sucker was closed as I arrived, so nothing much to say about it. Why do temples have to close on Sunday evenings before 10pm? Seriously. That's bad for tourism. 

Man Mo, I'll be back.

After this desaster I took a few pictures of here and there:

This and that

And then the earthquake created by my rumbling stomach drove my feet to a small cheap restaurant where good food and E.coli could be served.

I wanted to order good old vegetarian food. But all I got was an oil soup with a few noodles and tofu swimming inside. But tasted good. After a while I realised that I had to keep going if I wanted to catch that other flight. So I left, took a tramway to the ferry dock and enjoyed the ride. 

Spot the odd one out! Isn't there something unsual in this picture? Come on... You can't see? No clue? Damn, you really have to learn to read carefully. I said I arrived on the evening, and this picture was taken during daytime. Besides, I could never take such a well-composed picture. I admit it: google provided me with this picture.

After a nice fun ferry ride, I arrived on the other side, in Kowloon (stupid name, if you want my advice).

Who's she waving at?

Decency prevents me from giving a nickname to this tower

Sorry about the wobbly pictures, people. But if I may remind you, it's night. So back off and get a subscription at National Geographic if you want to see nice pictures. 

Victoria downtown

I walked a bit around, managed not to get lost nor mugged, did a bit of window-shopping 

Hong Kong, where J.Lo and her crew go shopping

I got myself a kiwi-pear juice from a street seller, and after paying, realised they also make (in different bowls of course...) soup out of shark fin. I gave my money to the devil !!! Damn Chinese people, may you all rot in hell. 

I was short on time so headed back to the airport. And saw the line of Japanese people waiting for my flight to Osaka. Saw their outfits, their looks, saw them talk and laugh, and realised, those 5 months in Japan will definitely be remembered.

Thanks for reading! 

Claire

Last day as crazy as the first one

Hello, readers! Last Chilean episode. I am now in Japan and everything is fine (well no, everything is expensive and I don't understand the people). But this is not about Japan: it's about the last stop in Chile. Remember? where I learned that public drinking is not allowed - and that bus count as a public space. 

Funny story, this bus ride. We had bought some beers within the group, in order to kill the time and have fun. So we got in the bus and made ourselves comfortable for this 28h ride. Then we noticed that there was, like Bowie used to sing, something in the air: not only we were sitting at the very rear of the bus, but the 'tank' of the toilets was full and generating an unpleasant smell. So we complained many times to the bus driver's assistant, me being the official PR of the group because of my capacity of pretending I can speak Spanish. Apparently he didn't like our mutiny attempt that much. Because when some of the group opened our beer cans, me included, he came to the rear of the bus and confiscated my can. At that point we were 4 people drinking, but somehow he only noticed me. 

A few moments later the bus stopped in the middle of the road – and then some Chilean passengers next to me told me to hand them the trash bag containing, among other things, empty beer cans, so that they could hide it. They even gave me some chewing gum. Ok... That's nice of them. Wait... Why?

At this moment, I was in an euphoric state, after one and a half beer on a more or less empty stomach (to my defence, beer cans are small here – and I only drink because of peer pressure). I could see the traitor outside, talking to the Carabineros (Gendarmes, or marines). Then the bastard called me out, which I did, finding the whole situation more funny and ridiculous than scary. The Carabineros were a bit further away, so I asked Judas what the hell was happening. He told me I had trespassed the law by drinking in public space, and that he was legally bound to report it to the Carabineros. I looked him deeply in the eyes and asked him if this was some kind of revenge because of the toilet issue – then he looked aside and said it had nothing to do with it. Ah! But I had little time to set a curse on him, as 3 or 4 carabineros were approaching. They repeated what the Collaborationist said, namely that I was trespassing the law. I successfully managed to have a clear and logical prose, apologized and promised it wouldn't happen again – then tried to change the subject by asking why is a bus considered a public space.

It's as in a computer game: there are different questions you can ask, where one will upgrade you to the next level, and the others will make you fail. Same in real life: I guess I picked the wrong question. They didn't like it and started asking for the IDs of everybody of the group – but then I set myself as a scapegoat and assured them without letting my voice fail that I was the only one drinking among the others. Since the Carabineros don't master Goebbels' language, the other alcoholics of the group and I could talk and we agreed on that – and if there was a fine to pay, we would split it in 4.

They bought the story of me being the only disgusting drunk, (which proves that the Carabineros know little of the German beer culture) but still they wanted to check my handbag to make sure. Oops... My bag. Containing 3 bottles of wine for the CSs. That surely won't make a good impression, will it? At that time I thought: I have to attack first, otherwise they will eat me alive. 

 

I presented the bag and showed the sealed wine, didn't give them give to think and ask in a very peremptory tone if it was also an criminal offence to carry wine as a present. Perhaps they were tired, perhaps they didn't really care, perhaps I was convincing: anyway, they just said that alcoholic beverages had to be stored away, so I took my most precious belongings (my earplugs), made a mental list of the content of the bag and let Judas put the bag away.

Then they dismissed us with no fine and the bus could continue, after this 20 minutes unplanned break. This could have been stressful, but it didn't feel like it. Too bad! 

But next time, I will definitely stay home. 

To close the Chile experience, again, let's check the list:

1- Stay vegetarian thing WIN

Yeeeah! Even vegan at some points, as I was sharing meals with 3 other vegan people when we were camping. Could I be vegan for real? Could I stop eating cheese? My cholesterol rate begs me to turn vegan...

2- Take the train FAIL

Well, we took the metro. Does it count?

3- Stay with CSers the whole time FAIL/WIN

Not really, but it wasn't planed that way, so back off.

4- Make it with a local WIN

We had that part already!

5- Improve my foreign language knowledge WIN

Yes, this time I didn't even care if I was speaking Portuguese or Spanish, those lazy latinos understood me anyway. But now I muddled up my Portuguese with Spanish. Thanks a lot.

What really happened during those 3 weeks

So people. It's time to learn more about Chile! Are you excited? Hope you are, you ungrateful piglets. I am sitting right now in a plane to Hong Kong and I could be sleeping, but I choose to put down in words what I experienced and let you know how it went. So clean the dirt from your eyes and read carefully.

Like I said, the disastrous beginning was all worth it. The mixture of cities and nature, camping and normal life, hot and cold conditions was perfectly balanced, though we didn't see one third of the country (everything souther than Temuco). But we can't help it if the shape of Chile is not handy for tourists: if those lazy Chileans wanted us to visit the country entirely, they would have shaped Chile in an other form. Like I said: sometimes, smaller is better.

This expedition in Chile was interesting for the following reason: after 3 weeks of bullshitting more or less alone in Argentina, it was somehow a bit hard to fit in a group of 20 people again, 24h a day, during 3 weeks. But I made it fine, mas ou menos. Claire vs Social situation 1:0.

So what did we do during 3 weeks? Take a look at this map (Paint mon amour).

 Starting in Santiago, then going south to Temuco and Pucón. We attempted the Villarica volcano (2800m and something), but had to stop after 2200 meters or something (yes I know, this blog lacks precise datas). Damn weather! Still we got to walk on a 50m long glacier tongue, with crampons, which was fun.

Crampons are fun!

And just after we got back to town, the bad weather (more or less) disappeared

 2 nights of camping around the park of Nahuelbuta,

Camping is fun!

And then a small detour to the Pacific in Lebu and its world known starfish

Mass tourism

then we went back to Temuco. By the way, Temuco is relatively ugly, and could compete with San Juan in terms of boringness.

After that, 2 days of city trip in Santiago:

Looking good

Foggy view from Cerro de San Cristobal

El mercado central

Valparaiso, the biggest port in Chile, 1 1/2 hour away from Santiago.

View from an 'ascensor'

Old style

and Vina del Mar, the upper class seaside resort.

Swimming in the pacific is fun!

where I had to improvise a presentation (remember? Didn't quite finish it). Cities in Chile are a bit ugly to my taste, but Valparaiso is an exception. Feels like Lisbon or Porto. Sure, as Valpo's also a important port with hills. If you haven't visited those cities, consider getting a life and start travelling.

Then, up to the small North and La Serena. We climbed Agua Negra, to the border of Argentina.

Looking stupid, but at an altitude of 4990m, no body cares anymore.

then went down to Pisco Elqui, a wineyard paradise.

For relaxing times, choose pisco times.

 From there, all the way up to Tocopilla, (half way between Antofagasta and Iquique) which is also a bit boring but still charming – at least, feels authentic. San Juan also feels authentic, but as in 'authentic dump'.

Might be authentic, but the beach sucks.

From there we rented cars

Redneck's yearly meeting

and went around in the Atacama desert: as dry as a stepmother's goodnight kiss. Planed was the ascent to Sairecabur (5700m and something): but the weather conditions (again!) were against us, and we had to stop at around 5400m. Ok, I stopped at 5350m because my layers of clothes and body fat were not enough to keep my temperature vital. Besides, the coca leaves I was chowing were barely sufficient to cover the sound of the hammer in my head. So I went back – but who are you to judge, ey?

Pretending I feel fine

After those exhausting experiences (even talking is tiring, at an altitude higher than 3000m), we went to Pica, an oasis in the desert where fruits are cultivated; where we had a nice desert party

Not sure of what I'm doing

then to Iquique. I also liked this city, its enormous dune (biggest in the world b+++!), its cute wooden buildings and laid back inhabitants. 

Huge dune

Big fatass dune

The real estate agent wasn't really honest as he said 'feels like at the beach'

The mentioned cute wooden buildings

A family of fatsoes

Damn, still have pictures that I am too lazy to describe. Enjoy and don't ask me where they were taken.

Life

Poor snowless volcano on the left

Can somebody tell me what does this mean? Something like 'free spanking?'

El salar de la muerte

El sunset romantico

On the way down to real life

Rivers are common in the desert

Smoking hot (I'm talking about the water, not me)

Salar de Huasco

Salar de Huasco, closer

Next episode: the 28h non stop bus ride back to Santiago. The seats were comfortable and the bus was not full, so I could spread my legs and sleep like a pig.

But did you know: 1/ it's forbidden to drink alcohol in public space in Chile?
2/ that a bus counts as a public space?

Stress in Chile

So this is the end of the Chile trip. I am at the airport, waiting for the next episode which should lead me to Japan, on Monday morning – through Los Angeles and Hong Kong. (Update: I am now in LA and managed my way to the LAX International lounge by pretending I used to be a member in the past - and it worked!!!)

I could start describing this whole expeditions and the things I saw and did... But seriously people. You're not here to read about how great this trip was – you're awaiting disastrous organization, ridiculous situations and stressful moments. And boy, you won't be deceived. Where should I start?

Did I mention the whole purpose of this trip? It was organized by one of my university teacher (with credits) – and was supposed to give an overview about Chile, from a geographical point of view: physical and human geography. Since our teacher likes to climb mountains, there was some mountain climbing involved, associated with camping in high altitudes (highest sleeping point 4200 m). Which means: serious equipment required (tent, sleeping mat, sleeping bag, petrol stove, crampons, wind-proof jacket...).

Being the brainless cheapo that I am, I didn't agree with those terms. Yes, I am cheap and didn't feel like investing that much money (around 200-300€) in equipment 1/ that I wasn't sure of using again, 2/ that I would have to carry around in Argentina, 3/ that perhaps I couldn't sell after use, before flying to Japan. Lesson n°1 when you pack your bag for a world trip: keep it light.

So I did what I always do when I am out of options: I logged in to Couchsurfing.

There is a group in Chile for ski and climbing freaks. So I spammed every single member of this group to ask if by chance, they were crazy enough to lend me their gear. And guess what? Out of about 15 contacted people, some never answered, but 8 offered to help, among which 2 told me they had everything, one even was sponsored by a big company so there would be no problem. Yeepeee, I thought. So I sent the sponsored one many thanks and a precise list of the stuff I would be needing, saying from when till when I would be needing the gear, and repeated that if there was any problem, I would understand, but that he should tell me early enough. The CS said that there was no problem and that I could get everything; this was in November from last year. See, I'm a bit organized! But this perfect picture was painted with horse dung and I was far to imagine that I was about to experience the most stressful 48 hours of my life.

Let me get it straight: it turned out fine. Fortunately I have the ability to get myself out of the trouble I deliberately get myself in. But still.

So I arrived in Santiago on a Thursday evening, after a boring bus ride from Mendoza (remember?), and headed up to the CS, who had offered to host me before the excursion would start the following Saturday. I had planed it like this, so I could have time for myself to visit Santiago and get rid of facial and leg hairs, for instance. My CS showed me part of the gear he had for me, but not everything, as we went out for diner and party. Why didn't I ask for the rest of the stuff right away? Maybe I'm too polite, after all. Or too stupid. He had to leave early on the following day, but told me before he was gone that everything was there, and that I just had to look for the stuff missing. This is the moment where you can start shaking and wet your pants, as I did – not everything was there. Looked everywhere. No sign of the sleeping mat nor of the cooking stove. On the day before the trip was to begin.

By the time it got clear to me that something was wrong, the CS was out of reach – no answer on his cell phone. Again, I did what I always do when I'm in trouble: I logged in to Couchsurfing. This time in the hopes of contacting the other CS who said he had everything I needed.

Do you know Murphy's law? This smartass created a whole theory about the concept of disaster. At the moment where you think you can't fall any lower, Murphy's making sure there is a bird flying over your head to splash you with its faeces. Back to Couchsurfing. At that point, I could barely talk, use my legs or coordinate my thoughts due to a close to lethal rate of adrenaline in my veins – and this is the moment where the couchsurfing site crashed. 'Ooops! Everybody's trying to surf at the same time. Please try again in a few moments'. I honestly don't know how my heart survived the following 60 minutes. My brain got stuck into the survival mode: breathe in, breathe out: I could not think of anything. My whole energy was concentrated on my right finger clicking on F5, and on making sure my pulse was below 200 beats per minute.

At some point the San Francisco geniuses fixed the problem and I could write an emergency message to the other CS, which, THANK YOU MOTHER EARTH, happened to be online at the same moment. He said that he could help me with the missing items, and that I just had to call him to meet in the evening, after work.

You think this is the end of the story? How little do you know me! It's just starting. So this is Friday around noon – I decide to work a bit on the presentation I have to prepare for the university trip (yep – it's not just climbing up and down mountains), then take a break from all the stress and walk a bit around. Went to Cerro de San Cristobal, which is a cute park on a hill in Santiago. Around 6 or 7 pm I decide it's time to call the other CS ; and then I realised that I actually don't have a Chilean SIM card. No problem! I think, SIM cards you can get everywhere! Well, apparently there is a huge difference between what you think and what real life is. In order to get a damn SIM card you are supposed to go to the official store of the cell phone company – and then again, not all of the official stores deliver a prepaid card. This is Friday around 7pm, remember? After asking anybody and running everywhere, I manage to find a store still open, where I buy this damn chip.

I called Francisco, the other CS, and we met around his place, where he showed me his gear: tent, cooking stove, even a 2^nd layer jacket. He even helped me with my crampons and showed me how to fix them to the shoe. Unfortunately he didn't have a sleeping mat, so we went to a hypermarket where I could buy one. The teacher recommended a self-inflatable sleeping mat costing around 20€, and I ended up buying this 4€ 5mm thick piece of crap. But hey, how cares? I have everything I need, I can sleep peacefully before meeting the group on Saturday. Wait... everything? Damn, where are those sunglasses I needed?

I guess I was too tired from everything, that I just thought 'oh, I'll buy some tomorrow before meeting the others' without really thinking that I wouldn't have the time. So I went to bed and set up an alarm clock. I slept very well, so well that I didn't really hear the alarm clock. Stress, again! I sent a message to the group asking when and where we were going to meet – which I could have done before, I guess. Stop criticising! If I was doing everything by the book this blog would be as boring as a conversation with your mother-in-law. I received a answer a few minutes later with a meeting point within the city centre, at the 'bus terminal' – though with no indication of time, since not everybody had arrived at the airport. And my mind got crazy again, perhaps due to some adrenaline molecules that were still soaking in my blood: I just read 'terminal'. So I assumed it was the terminal in the airport. May I remind you that I still hadn't packed, due to a overheard alarm clock?

This is a nightmare I have quite often: I dream that I have to take a plane to some place, but I end up missing the plane because of not knowing the time of departure, going to the wrong airport, forgetting my passport at home, not being able to get a metro or a bus because it's a public holiday... And this time, with a real life experience: having to pack in a rush and run fast. My worst nightmare ever, the one that makes me shiver and worship Satan, the one I always swore I would never let happen, got true. And this is not a good experience, believe my word. Again, my body auto-injected an adrenaline shot and switch back to the survival mode: breathe, then think. What do you need? What is vital for this expedition? What are the things you can afford not to take? I was supposed to spend 3 weeks in hot then perishing cold conditions, camping and sleeping in hostels, half in nature half in cities. So: many different stuff involved.

Now I can say it : packing in a rush sucks. I don't know how, but I managed to take the exact amount of clothes and gear I needed for the trip; but I forgot important things such as notebook or travel guide. I also didn't have time to print my presentation. And best part of it: I also didn't have time to clean up the apartment of the CS. Believe me when I say I left a huge mess: dirty laundry, laptop, books, shoes, pants, maps, small papers all around the place. I had eaten half a melon the day before and intended to keep the rest for breakfast; but breakfast was not meant to be. And the CS wouldn't come back before a week. Even in a fridge, imagine the fermentation and decomposition process of a melon. You could say that the deserved it, after all the stress he put me through; but I was far away from thinking about a revenge. I was more focused on not wetting my pants and find a decent way to the airport.

During that time, I tried to call the person from the group to have an update about the meeting time, but no answer, no luck either with my SMS's. Part of me thought that it was a bit stupid that they wanted me to come to the airport, but hey, they are German, so let's not argue. So I arrived by bus at the airport, and rush to the international arrival terminal. And there I see them, about to board a bus to the centre that had just arrived. 2 ½ hours had passed since my first message and there were still there, since there had been a problem with the luggages. They saw me, and then I thought, I'm such a piece of crap. They were so surprised to see me here, that I realized that the meeting point was at the bus terminal. Think twice, Claire, think twice. Always think twice. I could have enough time to pack properly, eat, clean the CS's place, cure AIDS and learn all the decimals of Π by heart, if I had switched my brain on.

And it goes on! Remember me not having proper sunglasses? Perhaps you don't know, but I suffer since a few years from a Keratitis, which is kind of a sun allergy, and makes my eyes don't like bright things. Which is not that cool, if you are to climb mountains higher than 4000 m. The CS had some ski glasses, you know, the yellow ones – which are not enough. So when we reached the bus terminal, after the feeling of stupidity had settled deeply in my thoughts and in my body cells, the group divided: some staying in the terminal to keep an eye on the luggages, some going to exchange money (small note: exchanging money? What's wrong with just drawing money out of a damn ATM? Wouldn't it be like cheaper and quicker?) and buy groceries for the following day, where we would be climbing the Villarica volcano. I joined the first group and asked if I could look for sunglasses – but this was not in the plan. So at the end we (they) exchanged money, got a Chilean SIM card (revival of my previous disastrous attempt), went to eat something, had coffee (tea), then went grocery shopping. There weren't many opticians in the neighbourhood, so I could already imagine an ozone hole in my eyes after those 3 weeks. It took us 4 hours to run some basic errands – which, if I were alone, I could have done within 1 hour. But that's not my point. My point is, we got back to the bus station where the feeling of stupidity stroke back and where the other group left, then I dismissed my moral obligation of staying with the others and the luggages. I went out and looked for a mall, which I found less than 10 minutes away. Malls are worshipped by adorators of the Church of Consummation, at which I normally blow my nose, but that time I made an exception, as this mall might just save my eyesight. I went to the first optician shop I found and finally found some polarized glasses that cover the eyes entirely. What a relief. You can't imagine. The endorphines released in my veins made me so happy that I continued shopping, and bought myself some funny underwear that will now be referred to as 'the funny Chilean pants'. Imagine this: me actually giving a name to a pair of underwear. How pathetic is that.

I got back to the group and realised I should do something about the presentation I'm supposed to make – so drew out a pen and peace of paper and started writing down the few things I had prepared, by memory. After all the stress, I couldn't think of much, but at that point I didn't care any more. Getting a good mark or not was the least of my preoccupations.

This is how the most stressful 48 hours of my life end. The best part of the story is that we stayed the whole afternoon from 14h till 21h either running errands or staying in the bus terminal, waiting for our night bus to Temuco. Again, I could have enough time – but stress is part of my life. I need to put myself in that kind of situations to enjoy the relaxed moments after the problem is solved.

You know everything about the first moments, I'll come back soon with pictures and details of the trip, which was definitely worth the stress.

Besos!