The photos I didn’t take #4 // Chile & Argentina

Nine months of settled dust is a heavy thing to clear, but this trip definitely deserves it. Five weeks, two countries, a different continent, my first solo trip. The reasons behind this trip deserve a post in themselves or, better yet, a novel, but I probably won’t get to write either. Suffice to say, I needed it a lot, I danced around it a lot, I thought of changing my mind up until the layover in London. But I didn’t and I went through with it. And it felt and still feels like one of the best things I did for myself, ever.

I took a ton of pictures. Dropbox cried out twice. Google Photos succumbed under the sheer volume of street art photos. I still have to go through everything, delete duplicates, sort them and upload them somewhere, maybe. But this is not about them. This is about some of the photos I didn’t take, in the most random of orders.

  • the music that is the Spanish language
  • smiles of strangers, friendly eye contact
  • the voice of street vendors, saving me from the heat with cold water, ice cream, chocolate
  • soft grass under me, in the middle of the day
  • the ease of making new friends
  • the buzz of chatter in parks
  • the bubbling of deep frying sopaipillas
  • guitarists, violinists, singers on the streets
  • squeaking of old wooden floors
  • seagulls at the window in the morning
  • the coming and going of Pacific waves
  • people holding hands
  • juggling acts that make waiting at street lights way more fun
  • the fluffiest clouds I have ever seen, gliding elegantly between tree tops
  • the tapping of hail rain on the roof of a church and the silence within
  • the murmur of mountain springs between velvety rocks
  • feet meeting the pavement when dancing on the streets at dusk
  • the swoosh of a machete making way in the Parana delta
  • afternoon concerts in the park
  • wind through spider webs in the silence and reverence of a cemetery
  • sore muscles, victorious after a long bike trip
  • the childhood aroma of a wood fire
  •  a city smelling like freshly baked bread, right out of the oven
  • the giggles of a little girl being a princess with cat ears
  • the purring of elegant, urban cats
  • the smell of fresh fish at the market
  • the clatter of cutlery and laughter around the table
  • the unconditional love of fluffy puppies (the drooling, belly up kind)
  • the flutter of pigeons within the walls of a cathedral
  • the sound of my breath on top of a hill
  • the clinking of Fernet Cola glasses
  • the softness of knees after a wine tasting, a rum on ice, one or two pisco sours
  • being called nicknames by new friends
  • feet in the water (cold foot bath after walking for 30 km, the Pacific ocean, hot thermal springs, the freezing lake for a photo I had to and did take)
  • the smell of freedom, spring and marijuana in the parks
  • the fluffiness of Argentinian pizza and the tenderness of medialunas de manteca
  • the crackling of fire under an asado
  • the sweet taste of strawberries and watermelon
  • the clutter of memories at a weekend market
  • the poignant taste of yerba mate
  • the insignificance of my solitude and sadness in the face of a mighty volcano

If you still need some visual accompaniment for this list, my freestyle 1 Second Everyday video is here. Fair warning, 11+ minutes.

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