Some memories of the past week...

Starting to write a travel blog is something I've been toying with for quite a while now - it was suggested to me by my old IB headmistress and a handful of friends. I was quite uneasy with the idea at first. Truth is, I haven't written anything in years and it is slightly strange that english is now the language I feel more at ease with, as if all my french and my "frenchness" was slowly slipping away the longer time flows by and the more I trod on foreign land. That said, there are some memories that I wish to share, some experiences that cannot be described properly unless they are captured raw and fresh at the right moment.

It's been a couple of years now that I've desperately been trying to relive that unique feeling of mingled awe, silent wonderment and nostalgia that I was overwhelmed with when I first set foot in South America. Roaming Chili and Bolivia with friends from university brought it back with a pang and I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of it on the (erm, slightly unsafe...) roads of Tibet.

Patagonia, however, has to go down as a completely distinctive experience in my books. Maybe because I was completely alone for the first time and was free to experience the joys of "people whoring" whenever I felt like it. Maybe that solitude makes you appreciate the entire emotional spectrum covered by a moment of fulfillment and happiness. Fuck knows. But what's certain is that when you feel absurdly tiny, you do open your eyes wider and wrap yourself completely in that overpowering beauty before you.

And it is asphyxiating.