Honeymoon
17.02.16, 10:26 am

Day 1:
Arrived in Santiago airport after insane 16 hour flight, where I: watched 3 films, slept for 2 hours, stood up 4 times to guard against DVTs. Got the scary bus to the apartment and checked in, then wandered around the nearby communist, crack-den part of town. Went to bed worrying that the honeymoon was going to suck.

Day 2:
Walked up both of Santiago's hill gardens and had much nicer day. Both got sunburn like utter gringos. Couldn't get apartment key to work, then made total tit of myself trying to explain to the porter in Spanish, using made up word for 'key'. Eventually he took pity and followed me up to the room. Watched 4 CSIs as it's the only thing on the telly in English. 4 hours sleep due to culture overload.

Day 3:
Took sunburn around some museums, then saw Pablo Naruda's slightly pretentious house in the afternoon. Realised you can't buy fresh milk in Chile (?! Why would God allow this?) so began black coffee holiday habit that made me feel continually coked out my face. Went out for evening meal, and had lamb so pink it nearly went Baa when I cut into it. 3 CSIs. 1 hour sleep due to overload.

Day 4:
Terrifying flight up to Calama in the desert, then 90 minute taxi ride across the desert plains listening to 80s classics the whole way, including 7 minutes of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun remix. Checked into San Pedro with more awful Spanish, then worried about whether to go visit highest geyser field in the world (4500 m up a mountain!) as altitude sickness is not fun. Decided in the end to stop being a whiny bitch and just go for it. 2 CSIs. 1 hour sleep due to overload.

Day 5:
Up at 4am for 90 minute journey up sheet mountain to see geysers. Arrived at sunrise, was minus 7 and felt v lightheaded but geysers were AWESOME. Felt v pleased with self for going, even though most non-insane people wouldn't have worried about it in first place. Came home, slept a bit and then went star gazing at 9pm. Saw star nebula through a telescope and had another awesome time. Slept normally!

Day 6:
Hideously stressful morning of firstly trying to book taxi back to airport for the following day entirely in Spanish, and then worrying it hadn't been booked properly, followed by discovery that James had lost his v important Tourist Visa card. Hated honeymoon a little. Later, went to the Moon Valley and saw the sun setting on the Andes, which was incredible, and went back to loving honeymoon again. Had sickly migraine, which detracted from the romance a bit, but still. It rocked, nonetheless.

Day 7:
Lying taxi driver arrived at 7am rather than promised 8am, meaning we had to bolt from the room without breakfast or a last sweep of the room. Arrived at airport so early the cafe wasn't even open. Flew back to Santiago and managed to get another Tourist Visa after slightly more competent Spanish, so my blood pressure stabilised. Picked up rental car and drove south for 7 HOURS to get to next destination in the green, wine-growing region. Chileans either drive incredibly fast or incredibly slowly, and like to leave one of their indicators on permanently. Arrived at hotel at 9.45pm; tea was 4 biscuits and half a satsuma. Too tired to be overly sad.

Day 8:
Had amazing breakfast in tiny hotel run by mad German, so felt like was staying in deepest Bavaria. Drove to National Park and hiked up and down an enormous mountain for 5 hours. Felt AWESOME at the top, despite knowing I'd pay for it the next day, because I'd managed a 10 mile hike and the view of the snowy volcanoes was beautiful. Did some low-grade hand washing in the bathroom sink as clothes were all beyond gross, then had enormous German evening meal. Drank for first time in 5 days!

Day 9:
Woke up v stiff, but we decided to go walking again anyway. Drove along terrifying gravel track to foot of active volcano that erupted a few years ago, and climbed it like Frodo climbed Mount Doom in deepest Mordor. After Mordor excursion, hiked around a lake until deep snow drove us back. Had lovely beer with tea

Day 10:
Drove 6 hours down to island of Chiloe, including mildly interesting ferry journey. Room was awesome but owner spoke no English at all, so terrible Spanish ensued. Room is top part of house that sits over the sea on sticks. It rocks approx every 15 seconds, so praying we don't suddenly collapse into the water.

Day 11:
Caught bus to town whose name is pronounced like a sneeze, after terrifying bumblefuck of a trip to the bus station. After 90 minutes heavens opened forever, so came home, finished book (Girl On The Train, SO good) managed to get Netflix to work and watched film in blessed English.

Day 12:
Awesome day spent driving to northern most point to visit the penguin colony. Saw a billion amazing penguins, as well as some sea lions and a sea otter. Was kind've rainy but it didn't matter, as were wearing mad bright yellow waterproof poncho things on the boat. Managed some better Spanish!

Day 13:
Drove 6 hours north to Pucon, a weird outdoor activities town that kind've resembles an alpine ski resort. Hotel had made an overbooking by mistake, so ended up in new hotel that seems to be brilliant. Went out for food, did good Spanish and drank lots of lovely local beer. Watched 2 CSIs.

Day 14:
Kind've damp morning, so decided to hike up a nearby mountain to visit these three lagoons. Ended up scrabbling up enormous mudslide in my trainers, as my boots aren't playing ball, with 500 other people. Have to admit, was a bit of a stroppy douche at one point. Once we reached the top, however, it was all worth it with the beautiful water and the sun coming out. Had a gazillion beers in the evening and pondered how much legs would hurt in the morning.

Day 15:
Awoke crippled, but not the worst crippled ever. Went horse riding up a mountain with 4 others, who all spoke great Spanish, English and their own native tongues and made me feel v inferior. Haven't ridden since ill-fated set of lessons when was 8, and mountain was terrifyingly steep. Kept thinking of emergency action plans if the horse suddenly went mental and cantered off towards the cliff edge. Bloody good fun, though. Later, another load of beer, plus my first pisco sour (brandy, lemonade, lime, I think). Tasted OK, but felt like I was a hysterical woman in an Agatha Christie novel drinking it.

Day 16:
Awoke more crippled by horse/walking tag team. Went wandering around a beautiful little spot full of huge waterfalls - we were the only ones there and was v romantic. In the afternoon, James took me white water rafting, which was awesome. Our companions were 2 Italian teenagers, who spent the whole time snogging and groping each other. He had hair like Johnny Depp from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which I found hysterically, HYSTERICALLY funny. Swam in river at the end, which seemed a good idea but swimmies now smell of river quite a lot.

Day 17:
Drove northwest for 6 hours, including through a huge thunderstorm, to arrive at lovely hotel apartment place on the sea. We are the only people here, and there are like 12 people in the entire town. Had a beer in the hot tub whilst watching the waves, and thought about rubbishy November back home. Deserved to instantly drop dead from smugness overload but thankfully didn't. Had fish and rice at weird restaurant next door that played both Mexican soaps AND Britney Spears songs circa 2001 at the same time.

Day 18:
Lazy day spent walking along the beach and checking out the weird rock caves, one of which contained a statue of the Virgin Mary (natch) and a dead sea lion (not my preferred status for sea lions). Managed to repeat moronic gringo sunburn habit on neck and shoulder. Drank more beer and played 600 games of cards in the evening.

Day 19:
Another day spent dicking around on the beach, after a TERRIFYING 50 minute drive along an unpaved road that they were actively paving. At one point we rounded a corner, were waved on by a guy in a cement lorry and were about to drive over a brand new bridge when there was mass horn honking from the cement lorryand two bulldozers. Turns out the bridge was only half-built. So nearly plunged to a soggy end. Anyway, managed to make it to the town without dying and pottered about by the sea, then came home. Suddenly realised it was Thanksgiving when the American owners of the place invited us to have dinner with their friends that came over. So had a lovely last evening eating turkey, mash, beetroot (no cranberries in Chile) and pumpkin soup.

Day 20:
Tedious 6 hour drive back to Santiago, which turned horrifically stressful when we tried to find the exit to the airport. There was a bit of swearing at each other. Dropped car off, tried to explain chip in windscreen, then excruciating 10 minute chat about lack of police report. Turns out when they said 'report any collisions to the police', "collisions" included things like stones. Eventually they just drove James to the nearest carabineros whilst I sat on my suitcase in the car park like a sad sack. Then James left his walking boots in the boot and sent me back to inflict more dreadful Spanish on the poor rental car guy. Checked into hotel at the airport and had most amazing shower ever, followed by beer and steak.

Day 21:
Flew to São Paulo, then home to Heathrow. Had to eat an omelette - why do aeroplanes always do this, why? Could smell it cooking 30 mins before but tried to convince myself it was just a weird kind of burrito. Watched Inside Out and managed to hold in the emotional breakdown at the end. Finally landed and thanked the angels for not letting me die on any of the flights. Cleaned teeth at St Pancras and fed James coffee until he was less grumpy. Took the shit slow train home to Sheffield - no one got on at Kettering or East Midlands Parkway, to the amazement of none. Finally arrived back, sad the amazing honeymoon was over but also secretly loving being home.

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