Argentina
Q: What happens when you breed the good looks of Italy with those of Spain?
A: Argentina.
So face porn is one reason to visit, and perhaps the most immediately obvious thing on arrival. That and the passion – especially if you land in Buenos Aires. Half of these good-looking bastards spend most days winching the face off one another, while on the roads, buses of football supporters are carted around the city, hours before the game, for a sing-song. The flick their hands out while they chant, as though they're drenched in their own mania and want to share some of it with you.
Geographically, it's a vast miracle of a country with frostbitten toes falling off the end of the world, and a sweaty heid in the swathed in jungle. There are sights so huge here as to make a slevering mess of those who witness them. Just after seeing them I wrote that the Iguazu Falls looked "like stars weeping" – time has only exaggerated this in my mind. Then there's the Perito Moreno Glacier.
Yeah, the scran may be up and down, but Argentina, fucking hell, go there.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Chile
The world's longest, thinnest country is also one of its continents most expensive. From frozen Patagonia, to sandy San Pedro, finding a cheap bed in Chile is virtually impossible – it's cheaper to find a hostel in London or Edinburgh. And when the natives recommend a pastie as the best example of their country's cuisine, you don't need to worry about writing down too many recipes.
But the people are friendly, the scenery stupendous and the sheer variety of life over 2,500 miles of varied latitude make it a winner.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Uruguay
Paraguay
Few people bother to include Paraguay on their itineraries, now we know why. Somewhere between the sinister edge brought by poverty, the unfriendliness of the people, the heat and the mosquitoes, we failed to fall in love with it. There's basically no compensation for that lot, their border control isn't up to much, either, and Asuncion, the capital, is one of the worst cities we've visited in the past year.
Don't go.
Don't go.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Bolivia
There may as well be a sign at all Bolvian border control saying “Gringos not welcome”, so warm are the people to the white man. Given their history, and the enormous indigenous population, that's perhaps not a surprise.
That's only half the story, however. The most frustrating thing is that Bolivia could be anything it wanted to be. It has natural beauty most countries would go to war over, ranging from the world's highest settlements in the Andes, to the plunging depths of the Amazon basin, visiting the weird, wonderful Uyuni Salt Flats along the way.
And yet it's all tainted, right to the brink of being spoiled altogether, by the Bolivians seeming delight in living in their own filth. So instead of being one of our favourite countries, we'll remember it as the lofty toilet of South America.
Oh, and it can be a wee bit dangerous too.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Peru
Some might say that in contrast to Bolivia, Peru has sold something of its soul to suck at the white man's tit. Still, with people choosing to shit in the bog (rather the street) wide-spread English speakers, and idiotically amazing sights like Maccu Piccu, it's hard, as a gringo, to come away feeling anything other than affection.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Ecuador
I can't speak much to what likes is Ecuador, other than to say that Ecuadorians are immensely friendly until it comes to the subject of money. As soon as a disagreement is reached, their soft eyes roll black like fucking sharks and arguments ensue.
But, hell, they could stab me in the guts and rob me blind in exchange for another trip to the Galapagos.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Colombia
As we travelled north through South America, people we met coming the other way consistently told us that, when we got there, Colombia would be one of our favourite countries.
I now strongly suspect that most of these people were cocaine fiends.
It's not that Colombia isn't nice – far from it – but it's just not life-changingly great. The scenery is consistently staggering, and the colonial towns are among the most beautiful on the continent. But it can sometimes be hard to enjoy them when the former are interrupted by endless numbers of armed guards/police/army/mercenaries boarding your bus and demanding ID; and it can be hard to enjoy the latter when everyone from granddads to weans trying to punt you coke.
The guidebooks etc would have you believe that Colombia now is infinitely safer than it was 10-20 years ago. If that's true, it must have been bloody terrifying before. Take this story: when in Bogota (the only South American city in which we were too intimidated to take our cameras out) we took a trip from the Candelaria area, to a mall in the north of town.
Rather than get a cab back, we jumped on the first collectivo (mini bus) that said “Candelaria”. We sat on that bastard for an hour, getting increasingly odd looks from others on the bus. At the 90 minute mark, as the roads got more narrow and all recognisable branding had dropped away from the shops, a local finally asked us if we knew where we were going. We explained. He frowned and said that the city has two Candelarias: one is the cultural and historic hub of the city; the other is a dangerous scheme. So dangerous, in fact, that he was going to escort us from the bus and quick-march us to the closest police station, who would then in turn call us a taxi...
We survived, which was nice.
Rather than get a cab back, we jumped on the first collectivo (mini bus) that said “Candelaria”. We sat on that bastard for an hour, getting increasingly odd looks from others on the bus. At the 90 minute mark, as the roads got more narrow and all recognisable branding had dropped away from the shops, a local finally asked us if we knew where we were going. We explained. He frowned and said that the city has two Candelarias: one is the cultural and historic hub of the city; the other is a dangerous scheme. So dangerous, in fact, that he was going to escort us from the bus and quick-march us to the closest police station, who would then in turn call us a taxi...
We survived, which was nice.
Panama
Though it was never technically under American rule, Panama – and especially its eponymous capital – is a mosquito's pube away from being Puerto Rico, or Florida. Panama City is a soulless, dangerous place filled with dead shopping malls and a zero charm. Thankfully for its sake, on the outskirts, the Panama Canal is definitely worth the visit, if for nothing else than just to take the time to consider how incredibly unlikely the whole thing is.
Two other points of note: Panama is one of the cheapest countries in the world for buying branded... stuff, no doubt a bi-product of the Canal; and Panamanians like their coffee idiotically strong. If you can't get any, get half a gram of speed, mix it with half a gram of senna, and blast away for a similar effect.
Costa Rica
Long an American holiday-home-destination of choice, Costa Rica has given a lot/had a lot taken away to/by the big bastard in the north. It's easy to see why the Yanks want to recolonise it too – the weather is good, the coffee is great, the people genuinely welcoming.
But for a backpacker? It's expensive, a bit too Americanised, and occasionally populated by expat c**ts, none of whom bother to learn a word of Spanish and whose behaviour can make you embarrassed to be white.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Nicaragua
Earlier in our trip, we met a couple whose earliest memories were of growing up in Dresden, during the last few years of East Germany. Of those hazy recollections, they clearly and distinctly remembered a call [demand] from the government for youngsters to give toys to their “brothers in the socialist republic of Nicaragua.” America had given the Latinos the cold shoulder, and was trying to squeeze them into submission, so it was up to similarly impoverished nations like East Germany to try and stop the weans greetin'.
On arriving there, it's clear that many of the towns are still tainted with the crushingly dull functionality of the socialist/communist philosophy. But like a lot of nations who've been shat on the in past, these days the folk are somehow particularly friendly, which just about manages to detract from the fact that their food is pretty god-awful. But then, who's to say that's not something to do with making a little go a long-way too?
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| Click Picture |
Honduras
We were told that Honduras wasn't worth going to if we weren't divers. We aren't, so we didn't for anything longer than a two-hour bus ride en route to El Salvador.
El Salvador
“Outside, on the stadium slopes, the scene was like one of those lurid murals of Hell you see in Latin American churches. The colour was infernal, yellow dust sifted and whirled among crater-pits, small cars with demonic headlights moved slowly from hole to hole like mechanical devils. And where, on the mural, you see the sins printed and dramatised, the gold lettering saying Lust, Anger, Avarice, Drunkenness, Gluttony, Theft, Pride, Jealousy, Usury, Gambling, and so on, here after midnight were groups of boys lewdly snatching at girls, and knots of people fighting, counting the money they had won, staggering and swigging from bottles, shrieking obscenities... They trampled the dust and howled. The car horns were like harsh moos of pain – and one car was being overturned by a gang of shirtless, sweating youths. Many people were running to get free of the mob, holding handkerchiefs over their faces. But there were tens of thousands of people here, and animals, too, maimed dogs snarling and cowering as in a classic vision of Hell. And it was hot: dark grimy air that was hard to breathe, and freighted with the stinks of sweat; it was so thick it muted the light. It tasted of stale fire and ashes...”
Paul Theroux describing San Salvador after an international football match in 1978 (El Salvador had just lost 6-1), although it could be most nights of the week in 2011.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Guatemala
OK they may be prone to a little bit of brutality themselves (and perhaps they always have been) but Guatemala is an absolute star of a country. It's got everything a backpacker would hope to find: world class tourist attractions, good food and drink, and gorgeous scenery as standard. All this for goddamn pence.
Naturally, we avoided Guatemala City like the plague, and as such we felt nothing but secure – but like every other country in this part of the world, getting steaming is a huge precursor to landing in the shit. The only difference in Guatemala is that, if you're unlucky, drunk and out alone at night, it might just be the police themselves that rob you.
Belize
I cannot every remember crossing a border as dramatic as that into Belize. In other parts of the world, it would take a flight of several hours to find such a massive, dramatic change in people, lifestyle and language. Tiny Belize is essentially a Caribbean island that has been sucked back onto the mainland: the people are predominently black and they speak something approaching English. An extremely flattering picture of Auld Betty is even on the money.
People say it can be dangerous in the capital here, too (it is in every capital, but people stealing grenades from the army and chucking them around the joint is pretty extreme, even for Central America) but we got quickly out to Caye Caulker, for an unexpected chance at Caribbean perfection.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Mexico
Four or five days in the Yucatan barely afforded us the chance to say we've been to Mexico, but it did give us a chance to enjoy some of the best food on the trip, to see some of the world's most idyllic ruins, and to swim with whale sharks.
Unfortunately we also had to go to Cancun, to leave Latin America for the last time. The place is like a giant compound for American fuckwits to come and forget themselves, and frustratingly it meant less and less chance to speak Spanish at the time when I was most fluent.
But it'd be wrong to criticise Mexico because of that – here's hoping the next time we're back (and we will be) we see it's part of an elaborate plan to keep the arseholes in one place, in order to let the rest of us enjoy more.
