See our Argentina photos.
Amy and I had been together for almost three years when we set off on this around-the-world trip in November 2004. Having only spent the previous six months living together, nothing prepared us for 10 solid months of barely being out of each other's sight.
We've experienced things that most couples need years of marriage to discover. A lot of which we'd have both prefered to have remained a mystery: there's no hiding from your partner just how much that last meal of chicken-foot soup upset your innards when the bathroom is only feet away from the bed.
Thanks to all the friends who predicted we'd split up before we make it back to England, and although it hasn't always been happy travelling, it looks like our relationship still has a lot of mileage left. Besides, if we were to split, it would take ages to separate all the souvenirs we've bought.
In less than 24 hours, we'll be on a plane bound for Heathrow airport, but we've putting a brave face on returning to reality. We'll miss many things from the 11 countries we've visited, but there's also a lot of stuff we'll be glad to see the back of. Such as gut rot, wearing a money belt 24/7, putting our life on the line with every road crossing, bad coffee, mysterious food, weak beer, fearing tap water, re-packing our rucksack every few bloody days, rabid dogs, staring locals, sharing rooms with rats, con artists, electric death showers, know-it-all travellers, dorms and baggage handlers who demand a huge tip just for lifting your rucksack off a bus.
We're also longing for some home comforts upon our return (strangely, most of them consumable). I'd kill for a glass of fresh milk right now and we're both looking forward to cooking for ourselves, eating fuit and veg with a steady hand, wearing more than five different outfits, English newspapers and listening to music that doesn't involve panpipes and isn't one of the 20 CDs we're carrying. Oh, and of course, seeing friends and family.
It's incredible all the things we've seen and done over the past 10 months. Even though it was just weeks ago, walking breathlessly in the Andes seems like a lifetime away - Asia, eight months back, even further. By the time we get home, will any of it seem real at all? At least we have our journals, lots of photos and this blog to remind us that it was. And if you ever get bored of our plethora of travel anecdotes, perhaps you can all chip in and buy us another around-the-world ticket to get rid of us. Hasta luego.
Thursday 1 September 2005
Tango and trannys
Packing in so much seems to be normal for people in Buenos Aires - they're constantly on the go. Our friends here (Veronika, Leo, Lourdes, Virginia) have been keeping us busy by introducing us to what the locals get up to in the city, rather than the tourist haunts.
Jody, worried that he'd come back with bruised feet after a tango lesson with me, was suprised by how quickly we both mastered the initial steps of the passionate Argentine dance. It takes a lot of concentration and despite my aching feet, even as a beginner, you can feel how sexy it is!
Last night, we were taken to a show that couldn't have been more different - performing transvestites! We had to inform our friends that yes, there are trannys in London but whether an all-singing, all-dancing act like that in England could draw such a huge crowd at 2am on a Wednesday night is anyone's guess. Jody was just pleased we weren't sitting in the front row where a straight guy was teased and dragged up on stage, especially because we couldn't understand the jokes, spoken in rapid Spanish.
We've visited pretty much every shopping city and market Buenos Aires has to offer, making our luggage heavier and pockets lighter. But it's the sights that make this city. The re-vamped docks of Puerto Madero where we strolled along the river trying in vain to digest an all-you-can-eat meat feast. The colourful corregated iron houses and shops that make the area of La Boca famous (we'll upload more pictures soon) and Recoleta Cemetary with it's rows of towering, dark mausoleums where famous Argentine figures such as Eva Peron were laid to rest, and the hissing cats that live there follow your every move.
It feels really weird to be coming home. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Like the feeling before you leap from a plane (yes, I did that in New Zealand). You just try not to think about it too much before the event, for fear you'll wet yourself from excitement or get cold feet and not want to get on the plane. But we will be getting on our flight tomorrow whether it's to start our life again at home or plan the next adventure, because all good things come to an end, and this is the end of our good thing, the best thing we've ever done.
Jody, worried that he'd come back with bruised feet after a tango lesson with me, was suprised by how quickly we both mastered the initial steps of the passionate Argentine dance. It takes a lot of concentration and despite my aching feet, even as a beginner, you can feel how sexy it is!
Last night, we were taken to a show that couldn't have been more different - performing transvestites! We had to inform our friends that yes, there are trannys in London but whether an all-singing, all-dancing act like that in England could draw such a huge crowd at 2am on a Wednesday night is anyone's guess. Jody was just pleased we weren't sitting in the front row where a straight guy was teased and dragged up on stage, especially because we couldn't understand the jokes, spoken in rapid Spanish.
We've visited pretty much every shopping city and market Buenos Aires has to offer, making our luggage heavier and pockets lighter. But it's the sights that make this city. The re-vamped docks of Puerto Madero where we strolled along the river trying in vain to digest an all-you-can-eat meat feast. The colourful corregated iron houses and shops that make the area of La Boca famous (we'll upload more pictures soon) and Recoleta Cemetary with it's rows of towering, dark mausoleums where famous Argentine figures such as Eva Peron were laid to rest, and the hissing cats that live there follow your every move.
It feels really weird to be coming home. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Like the feeling before you leap from a plane (yes, I did that in New Zealand). You just try not to think about it too much before the event, for fear you'll wet yourself from excitement or get cold feet and not want to get on the plane. But we will be getting on our flight tomorrow whether it's to start our life again at home or plan the next adventure, because all good things come to an end, and this is the end of our good thing, the best thing we've ever done.
