The Atacama Desert

While many resourceful and skilled Indigenous Australians have subsisted on the arid desert regions at the centre of our country for millions of years, the less skilled and less resourceful Anglo-Australians largely occupy the more temperate coastal regions.

So while Australians have a vague knowledge of something red called a desert we generally don't have much familiarity with it. Thus, Julia and I jumped at the chance to traverse through the driest desert in the world - the Atacama desert. Interestingly before we bid Bon voyage for this very trip, the Atacama was making global headlines after unseasonal rains saw beautiful and usually dormant flowers spring to life in all their unusual fecundity. A changing climate perchance?

Chile an unusually phallic shaped country with its arbitrary borders offers a striking array of geographic marvels. From glaciers in the south to the as mentioned driest desert in the world in the centre. So we headed off to the desert, acutely aware that Melbourne was in the grip of, yet more, unseasonably warm weather and that we'd in fact be escaping such searing temperatures despite heading into the driest desert in the world! What was that about climate change?

The desert conflicts you. Its imperceptible expanses both overwhelm you but at the same time invigorate you. It reminds you that we're yet to inexorably fuck up every inch of this planet but in the same breath you yearn for the comforts of the city. The irony is that whilst there is vastly less flaura and fauna, this very fact makes it stand out more starkly amidst the barren surrounds - you actually notice more it. The hare fleeing its predator, the barely perceptible lizard on the cactus.

Based out of the adobe tourist town of San Pedro, Julia and I set off on a few day trips. Specifically we headed off to see some lakes at over 4000m of altitude and also a small portion of the salt flats (including flamingos!) that many travellers head across the border to see in Bolivia.

This trip has increasingly highlighted to me the sheer amount of things we do not know and understand, a sobering and also empowering thought. It has also highlighted the pitfalls of not only our rationality but our perception too. Walking around at over 4000m, in the driest desert in the world, marvelling at the turquoise waters of the lake before us, we couldn't quite fathom those facts. The very fact that globalisation, warts and all, and a couple of winning genetic lottery tickets enabled us the privilege of experiencing that instant wasn't lost on either of us as we somewhat existentially pondered the purpose and meaning of it all. Why us? Is travel right or wrong?

Something I love about travel, not necessarily international travel but forced sabbaticals, is the opportunity to questions things. Things you value and why you value them. Travel has been in the cross hairs this trip! I can't shake the aforementioned notions of privilege but also unnecessary environmental impacts.

However, equally invigorating are the robust discussions you share with fellow travellers from around the world. Gleaning new insights and most definitely perspectives. This was exemplified during some heated debate with a big German man who unfortunately and ignorantly praised Australia's handling of asylum seekers. Needless to say that particular global issue has been a regular and intriguing source of discussions along our journey thus far.

I could conclude with photos and borrow the tired adage that a picture says a thousand words but I get the sense that photos of the dessert don't in-fact do such a thing but merely downplay the awesome vastness of it all.

Thus, we headed off in a blaze of red dust and stubborn mercury. As we made our way towards Peru and a new adventure we couldn't help but once again ponder how arbitrary our very existence was.

This vulnerability was exacerbated during our ill-fated border crossing into Peru. But for that anecdote dear reader, you will have to await the next instalment. 

Buen Vino: Mendoza

For those of you who know me, it will come as no surprise that Mendoza, South America's most acclaimed wine producing region, was very close to the top of my to do-list for this trip.



Mendoza is an arid dessert region lying at the foothills of the jagged and imposing Andes mountain ranges. This dry and mountainous combination makes for excellent wine producing conditions and superlative enotourism.

Now let me dispel some misconceptions. Wine, its consumption and the culture around said consumption, does have a reputation of being frankly full of wank and pomp. But for a young Australian wine drinker, the attraction, other than the actual wine itself, lies in the provenance of the grapes. Let me explain. What really excites me is origin of the grapes, their history and suitability to particular regions and specifically the very climate and geography of those regions. Additionally the people who actually grow the grapes and produce the wine; are they a family of viticulturists? Or a middle aged oenophile with far too much money trying to escape the rat race with illusions of grandeur.

It's these complex and amorphous combinations which incredibly give rise to the final product. Once again, for me these factors are what really exciting about wine - not to mention the taste!

Another inherent benefit of enotourism is the opportunity to escape the clutches of crowded plazas and bask in the bucolic surrounds as the open roads and vistas welcome you.




After that soliloquy, let me share with you our experiences of sampling the various wines on offer and the awe-inspiring environment which gives rise to them.

As a disclaimer, I'd like to emphasise that Julia and I are proud advocates of clean skin wines and rejoice in purchasing cheap bottles of wine only for their quality to belie their minuscule price tag.

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We signed up for two seperate tours. A cheap half day tour as a warm up and a more pricey full day affair including lunch. On paper a full day of wine tasting sounds like a joy but for tasters who reject the advances of the nearby spittoon, a full day tour becomes an exercise in deception; both in trying to deceive the guide and yourself as to your level of increasing inebriation.
An amusing aside from a Sin Fin was the presence of an exclusive cellar, replete with a glass door for viewing purposes but also an imposing lock on the door. Upon enquiring if we could enter the exclusive looking cellar, the cellar hand told us that her father (who owned the winery) was the only person with a key and access. After the generous serving sizes and sheer variety of wines we tasted, I couldn't help but think that her Father knew his daughter very well and exercised caution for very good reason.



With those aforementioned points in mind we headed off on our first tour. We quickly became acquainted with a Canadanian grandma who had a great sense of humour and a typically charming Canadian drawl, aye! But she also had an annoying tendency to try and impress her wine expertise upon anybody in her general vicinity. Unfortunately the more she spoke the more it became obvious that she really didn't know what she was taking about. Which is fine of course; I'm no expert but then I don't try and convince those around me that I am so! This was ultimately demonstrated when upon tasting a lovely Malbec, the cellar hand personally walked around the group, spittoon in hand, to prepare us for the next wine. Upon arriving at the Canadian lady she inexplicably mistook the spittoon for a kitchen sink and proceeded to dunk her glass, mouth first, straight into the the disgusting and festering mess. Witnessing the whole thing, it took every ounce of self control for me to not explode with laughter. Meanwhile the cellar hand, in such a state of shock as to what had transpired stumbled off. Poor old Canadian lady muttered something inaudible and proceeded to manually wipe the saliva and regurgitated wine concoction from her glass.

So down to the tasting, much like Australia, South America is considered a 'new world' wine producing region as opposed to the old world of Europe. However, unlike Australia, unusual grape varietals such as Malbec and Carménère dominate. This made for a throughly new and exciting experience and largely unique flavours which were quite different to any thing either of us had experienced.

Also similar to Australia and considering the variables mentioned above, the quality of the wine varies greatly. But one of the beatiful aspects of wine and it's tasting is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. There are no right or wrong flavours to nuance; no good or bad bottles depending of course on who you ask!

Our final and full day of wine tasting promised some of the most numerously awarded and renowned boutique producers. This is contrasted with our first day which involved more industrial, mass producing wineries.



Our first visit was to Trapiche. Even by the end of the day, their reserve Malbec's with plenty of french oak were a real highlight and a joy to behold. Albeit a joy too dear for a government employed backpacker.



Another winery we visited was Sin Fin. We were met by a charming cellar hand with a good sense of humour. She was thoroughly disinterested in the mechanics of wine production but fortunately for us, thoroughly interested in how the wines actually tasted. This meant one of the shortest tours I've ever had but a prolonged and generous tasting. After the cellar hand matched our consumption glass for glass, her increasing levels of inebriation emboldened her to open some aged wine not usually reserved for tastings! Muchas gracias!



I won't bore you with any more details other than to say we were treated to a delectable lunch and expertly catered for. And that we met an awesome Belgian lady, Naima, who we shared many laughs with and a subsequent dinner; sans wine after reaching our monthly quota in one day!

So next time you're shopping for wine, keep your eyes peeled for any wine produced in Chile or Argentina and tantalise your tastebuds with something new.