All the way south

"Duuude! You look like a hobo." Those were the welcoming words that greeted me when I emerged from arrivals at Mexico City's main airport, the words of my great friend Daniel, who himself was on a bit of a trip, returning to his native country for a few months to work on a personal project. I hadn't realised just how much my beard had grown, growing from hipster to homeless in the three months since I saw him last, and his reaction was probably justified. The trip started as it would mostly proceed and end, with lots of eating. We stopped off at a chain called Casa de Toño to sample some pozole rojo  (soup), with some flautas  and a little taco thrown in for good measure. It was a lot of food, but holy crap...flavor! Variety! Spice! Parts of my tongue were tingling, parts that hadn't tingled in months. Daniel had always hyped up the food in Mexico, and it made a spectacular start in living up to expectations. I was already looking forward to the next meal. W...

In winter on the Antarctic peninsula, it gets so cold that even the sea freezes over. Frozen seawater makes getting around easier, and once upon a time it allowed three British scientists from the Faraday Antarctic research base to ski their way across the solid sea ice to spend some leisure time away from the base. Around about the time they reached Petermann Island, six miles away, a big storm kicked up and broke up the sea ice. They had radio contact from a hut on the island. At first, they provided updates every day. Then once a week. Then once a fortnight. Eventually, they cut contact altogether. With constant inclement weather and pack ice remaining on the water, it was a long period of time before their location could be reached. By the time it was, they were already presumed dead. When rescuers entered the hut, the one you see above, all they found were penguin feet nailed to the tables. Presumably they had gone mad from hunger and isolation. This was in 1982. Hea...

Day one The first big challenge of the Inca Trail trek was packing my duffel bag that the porters would carry. I had brought a way too much crap. We had received the duffel bags at the briefing the night before, and I thought I had packed it fairly lightly, but having to squeeze the provided sleeping bag in at the start of the trail was a big challenge. I normally travel light, but this time I had definitely over-packed. The poor porters. The packing challenge took place after a comfortable three-hour pre-dawn bus journey, where I managed to get some extra sleep in. Once everyone's duffels were sealed, and we got our rented hiking sticks, at last it was time to get going. After bouncing, full of beans, across the footbridge that marks the beginning of the trail, the first gentle little uphill section was...a little too breathless for comfort. We were above 3000m, and the lack of oxygen made you feel like you hadn't walked in about a year. This would take some getting use...

Being used to long haul flying, I barely noticed the short hop from Bogotá to Quito, the high-lying capital of Ecuador. An airport taxi pickup from my hostel gave me an easy introduction into this new country. Luckily there was a Danish hipster heading to the same hostel at the same time, so I was able to share the cost with him. View from Secret Garden rooftop With an ultra-modern airport highway, the taxi cruised along until hitting the higgledy-piggledy old colonial streets of the San Blas area of the centre, where The Secret Garden hostel was located. The hostel was recommended to me by a couple of Canadian girls I had shared a dorm with in Medellín, more so for the three day trip to the sister hostel near Cotopaxi mountain that was not to be missed. With the December 10th deadline for the Inca Trail in Peru looming, I only had just enough time to do this three day'er before hitting the Galapagos for four. That would be it for Ecuador. After grabbing a lovely lunch wi...