Santiago was – and still is – a city of potholes and bumps, impeccable highways and treelined avenues, with a soundtrack that changes with each neighbourhood. I found love for my local barrio and its colourful houses streaked with peeling paint and the ubiquitous graffiti emblazoned wall, but I also hated it, its appearance and beating heart appearing so different next to the fertile plazas and lavish apartment blocks that my friends knew.
At the risk of sounding cliche, Patagonia is magic. Where else can you see skies this vast, glaciers this ancient, wildlife this stunning or a mountain vista so dripping in otherworldly power that it transfixes you and makes it impossible to look away? Eyes just are not big enough to fully appreciate the spellbinding qualities of this isolated, wild spot hanging off the edge of the world at the bottom of Chile and Argentina.