South America

The time comes again, time to go, travel’s inevitable destination. Feeling ready to go home but not feeling ready to leave. Time of ambivalences and contradictions – I call it brimful of emptiness.  I wrote some of this when I was still in Buenos Aires but I couldn’t finish till the leaving had been done. So it's a mixture of anticipation and reflection. I'm feeling everything so much more intensely this time - the third time I have done this particular parting in this particular place. Maybe it's harder than before because the time here has been so incredibly good; maybe...

So as the days count down to journey’s end, a few reflections on some of the charms, quirks and oddities of this intriguing city. Forgive the silliness of alliteration but a string of B-words was just too tempting: bumpers, bicycles, bulldogs and beef. I tried to find F-words but alas, F-ing alternatives for bicycle defeated me! So, walk the streets of Buenos Aires and you will find an army of workshops bashing out the bumpers of cars that have seen combat on the city’s teeming streets. Attentive blogees will remember my bone-shaking bus journey to Mataderos back at the beginning of...

For a rapid transition from the ‘real South America’ of Bolivia to the bustle of one of the continent's great cities, what better than Street Art? So, off the plane, some shut-eye, a bit of freshening up and I was off to join a tour. Buenos Aires is famed for its street art, helped no doubt by the relaxed attitude of the authorities – basically if you get the permission of the owner of the wall you’re good to go with latex, spray paint or any other application. And some of the best-known street artists have adorned many a wall in the city with their...

Isabel is 26 years old. She’s been weaving for 10 years and now has the skill to make the most exquisite pieces on her crude loom - just a couple of strong vertical poles of wood notched to support two horizontal ones. Isabel’s mother died when she was very young so she has lived most of her life with her grandmother who taught her to weave. She weaves for five hours every day while the daylight is good and she’s free from other work. When we met her she was sitting cross-legged on the floor in a small, bare room...