The little farm that could, continued...

I'v almost been in El Bolson for two weeks now. I've settled into my wwoofing lifestyle. The first few days were hard, especially because we were stuck inside a tiny house by the cold rain. But the weather improved, actually, the weather became amazing and an outside lifestyle was realized.

There is no set work schedule at my farm. Because nothing is produced for commercial value we (the wwoofers) are able to pick our own projects, in fact we must use our creativity to create our own work. I'm in the midst of creating a vegetable garden, adding to a stawberry garden, creating a fountain, carving a bowl from a knot of wood I found in the mountains and trying to germinate some seeds. Also, we have daily Spanish sessions...today was on pronuciation (reading from a book called 'Conversations with God'...I have no clue what the author was saying).

I have also started on a new endeavour...reading a book in Spanish. It's a 'pick your own adventure book'. So far I've found out I'm a thirteen year old adventurer who was asked by a famous scientist to accompany her on an expedition to find the sole surviving dinosaur living in the depths of some obscure ocean. It's very exciting.

Other than what's related above, my life consists of walking in the absolutely stunning snow-capped mountians and (attempting to) playing guitar as an accompianament to another, very talented, wwoofers mandolin. We try to make beautiful music, sometimes it works and sometimes it doens't.

The little farm that could...

I have arrived in El Bolson to experience the world of wwoofing (google it if unsure of meaning). El Bolson is named after a geological term/phenomenon that occurs when a glacier carves out a valley to an exaggerated extent. Thus, El Bolson is situated deep in the Patagonian Andes but is only 300 meters above the Pacific Ocean making it ideal for growing fruits and vegies. It also is a community started by hippies and retains a bohemian feel to it. The ´farm´ I am wwoofing on is more of a hobby farm. Roberto (the owner) owns 1/4 hectare and grows fruit...actually, there are some fruit trees hapazardly scattered around the property and that`s about it. Some previous wwoofers have started small veggie gardens, but not much is actually grown. The `house´is made from recycled cedar planks put together in a house-like structure with lots of gaps. It`s kinda like the tree house you always wanted to build but never got around to it...oh ya, and it´s not in a tree. Given that it is raining and about 3 degrees today it doesn´t seem like the most efficient design. But the floor is very practical...loose river stones - never needs to be cleaned. Also on the farm is a pregnant sheep (Matilda) that just stares into the window, a golden retriever (Toby) who likes to drink milk, a cat (yet to be named) that was here for three minutes before it ran away and another wwoofer from Denmark (Anders).

In the Misty Moutains...

I escaped the sprawl of the city and took a charming (read: grueling) 25 hour bus ride to the edge of the Andes...to Bariloche. I have substituted a city with a seemingly southern European feel for a smaller city with a noticibly Swiss feel to it. Bariloche, located in the lake district of Argentina, hugs the coast of a massive turquoise alpine lake with back drops of snow-capped peaks. Its quite a terrible place, all there is to do is ski, hike, mountian bike, fish and suffer through a beer with some of the cheapest steak in the world. But, fear not, I did manage to escape the meloncholy of this place and rent a car with some other travellers to see the famous 'black glacier'. After an hour and a half of driving through pothole filled and flooded over dirt roads at the hands of a phsycotic Isreali who thought it was fun to drive through water at dangerous speeds on a curvy mountain road we made it to Mt. Trondodor (mount thunder)...so named because the mountian 'thunders' every so often as massive pieces of snow and ice come tumbling down the peak. That, combined with the black glacier at its base, makes for quite a nice and scenic Andean peak. Tomorrow I'm off to El Bolson to meet the 'farmer' I will be hopefully working for/with for the next month.

Tango for Idiots

Well, here I am...arrived in Buenos Aires with nothing more than a swelling of the cerebral cortex from jet lag and a sever lack of sleep. I thought flying half-way around the world would feel a bit more foreign than it has so far...maybe that has to do with the very European feel to BA. If one didn´t know better one may think this was Milan or Barcelona. But, none of those places eat as much meat or can boast as universal an institution as BA can boast of its Tango. And an institution it is here...it´s everywhere and they are proud of it. Rightly so, I might add. Its exotic and sensual and absolutely tantalizing to watch...it takes restraint to resist the urge to push the guy aside, take his lovely partner in your arms and dance her to the end of love, but then you remember that you were born with two left feel and an absolute ignorance of the style and subtle elegance that this duet requires. Oh well...maybe if I try hard enough at the Tango lesson I am about to emabrark upon some of those divine traits will rub off on me. Hey, a guy has to have hope....

Pre-flight Curiosities

Well, here we are - one day till I jump the puddle. I think I'm set. Lets see...I've sold everything I own (aside from what i'm bringing with me), if I haven't sold it I've given it away (the opp shops in Ballarat have hit a gold mine in me). I've made the most minimal plans possible...a plane ticket and a hostel for the first night, and some loose plans to wwoof at a farm in November. Aside from that, its really a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of endeavour....but that's really the only way to do it. To keep me company on the flight I've got Anna Karenin which I've been meaning to read for years and now will finally be forced to in a sadistic sixteen hour stint of sitting in a claustrophobic cylinder filled with 250 stinking people at 35000 feet. I've got my 'Learn Spanish in...' book me which I was supposed to have been consulting for the past months....whups. At least I will provide some humor (hopefully not insults) to some Argentines when I completely mix up the word order, collocations and context and try to say that 'I am a little bit warm at the moment' and instead notify them that 'I am a little bit horny at the moment'! Who knows....maybe that will be the proper thing to say to that specific person at that specific time...or maybe I'll just get slapped in the face.

Ian's Overland Adventure

Hello and welcome to the blog that will surely not change your life, but is pretty damn interesting to me, if no-one else. Herein lies the deeds and accounts of a utterly normal person who banked his life savings and flew to South America with plans, grandiose plans. Actually, the plans are a bit on the skimpy side...in fact, there is really only one. Make it from Tierra Del Fuego to the US without stepping on a plane, aka, overland...and to arrive (hopefully) alive and with no money left to speak of but plenty of stories for the grandkids (no i don't have any and won't for a very long time). These stories will be made up from the many things I do on this journey, things of which I have no clue of at the present moment...so you will have to stay tuned to this blog to seek the answers you so desire.

Vamos al fin de mundo!