T minus 3 and counting

What do you do if you are a sort-of-civil servant who's just turned 50 and an accountant who's just turned 60?  Well, inspired by Bruce Chatwin's In Patagonia (which neither of you has actually read), and a vague recollection of being really impressed by 24 hours once spent in Buenos Aires on a business trip about 10 years ago, you naturally decide to set off on a three-week trip around Patagonia.  When we gathered over a search engine to start planning, this summoned up images of ourselves in our youth backpacking, having life-changing experiences and storing up hilarious tropical disease anecdotes.  "I fancy doing as much as we can by train", mused the brother  (the recent sextuagenarian), and I responded that I vaguely recalled a book by a Theroux (I can never remember which one); something about a train in Patagonia?  And this book had lots of really interesting characters encountered on an epic journey, and that would be rather fun, wouldn't it?

With considerable aplomb, the brother left all the travel arrangements to me.  Actually, I'm rather glad he did, as his natural inclination to avoid fuss and frivolity would have led to our spending three weeks moving from one "jolly good value" insect-infested shack to another, while congratulating ourselves on how much money we had saved, and how much we were enjoying the lovely fresh air occasioned by the lack of unneccessary glazing in said shack.

So, I duly investigated the train infrastructure in Argentina and Chile, and, (as those of you with greater sagacity and experience will already be shaking their heads saying) it is almost non-existent.  In fact, I soon discovered that there are only two ways to travel in both these countries; by bus or 'plane.  The former cover the vast distances between north and south, and in Argentina, east and west.  They run frequently, are cheap and many have actual beds.  "Fantastic way to see the country!", I trilled to the brother.  "Hmm, and those fares look attractive, too", he responded.   "I'll book them, then", I said.  And I really did try very hard, but the distances and timing, not to mention the distinct lack of a road system for much of the south of Chile (which is, after all, mostly mountains and fjords), meant that we are travelling mostly by 'plane.  (There is the sea route option from Punta Arenas to Puerto Montt, but I draw the line at four days at sea in below-the-waterline cabins at a time of year which is noted for its strong winds.)  At least we're still backpacking.

Weeeell, truth be told, we're not actually backpacking.  We did discuss the possiblity of the brother sending a search party for his wallet to buy a suitable backpack, but he came over all faint and I took pity on him, so we'll be dragging our sensible wheelies around instead.  (Do daypacks count?)

So, on Wednesday, we meet at the crack of dawn at Heathrow on the first leg of our journey.

Do follow us on our adventure, I'm sure there'll be lots of humerous incidents to relate.  Oh, and, we have both read In Patagonia now, although not Paul Theroux's The Old Patagonian Express, well, there didn't seem much point as we won't be going on it...