For all we knew, in Santiago, the world was ending on March 11. The mysterious date kept on showing up over and over again.
Browsing: Looking for the Summer
“You know that moment when you’re home and you don’t feel inspired, or you’re bored, or a bit down and you go out and suddenly, lost in the crowd, you forget all your problems and just enjoy the city?”
Buying street food might feel like a leap of faith—I draw the line at raw fish—but vendors take their role seriously and after all, you have no idea how clean restaurant kitchens are.
I’ve never been good at that “living the moment and no worrying about the future” thing. But it’s not just me—the smell of transition is in the air in Santiago too.
“I’ll get you new glasses in Santiago!” I promised, half because I knew exactly where to go, and half because I really didn’t want to see a Brazilian optometrist with my limited proficiency in Portuguese.
Have you ever seen choclo, aka Peruvian corn? A kernel is the size of a garlic clove.
As we discovered, the “Día Internacional de la Mujer” is widely observed in Chile, even though it’s not a public holiday.
I hear the familiar sound of French in the street but I don’t understand a thing—it’s Haitian créole. I buy bread at the Colombian bakery and empanadas with traditional Peruvian fillings.
I’m an observer and an outsider. Occasionally, I stumble upon weird and entertaining groups of humans.
I’m happiest when I travel, but if I have to settle somewhere for a little while, I like that somewhere to be Santiago.
Driving distance between Mendoza, Argentina, and Santiago, Chile? Only 370 kilometres. Travel time? Between seven…
A familiar scenery, yet my brain hadn’t adjusted yet. From the rainforest to the Andes in less than three hours is too fast for me.
Foz do Iguaçu and Puerto Iguazú aren’t two border towns that blends seamlessly—they exemplify both cultures.
I hate taking tours, but understandably, few countries let foreigners wander around an active power plant, so we signed up for the Visita Panorâmica aboard a double-decker bus.
For a border city, Foz isn’t too seedy, an exception probably due to the fact it’s just a few kilometres from one of the new natural seven wonders of the world.
The bus finally arrived. For most of the ride to the national park, the driver kept one eye on the road and the other on the gourd of mate a passenger in the front seat was sharing (did they even know each other?).
The Iguazu Falls is a three-kilometre chain of waterfalls. You don’t just get one waterfall—although the Devil’s Throat is probably the most impressive—but 275 of them.
Looks like the pilot is trying to find a place… ahem, without trees. This is going to be one of these airports where you get off the plane and walk on the tarmac to the terminal, I can feel it.
We should be in São Paulo by now, getting ready to fly back to Canada. But we’re not even close.
I like Curitiba. It’s a good place to deal with Carnival withdrawal, beach withdrawal and you can even take a break from Brazil’s humid and hot weather.
Balneário Camboriú seems to have been designed for those who want to experience the main famous Brazilian attractions conveniently in one place without travelling all over the country.
Gosh, here’s my colonial moment, a French spreading French culture around the world. Enlightening ignorant locals, a beloved European tradition…
On Santa Catarina Island, I resumed favourite activity #52—walking from one end of the beach…
Brazilians can run, drive, fish, swim and possibly have sex with flip-flop—gosh, right now I’m picturing a Brazilian wedding with the bride and groom wearing Havaianas.