Chile

Because of the time difference, I was having dinner in Santiago as I watched UCLA win their first basketball game of the tourney. Who woulda thunk there'd be a sports bar in Chile? Of course all the big screens were showing soccer, but I managed to grab a little table in the corner and persuaded a waitress to change one of the TVs to the game; I do seem to have awesome charm when it comes to non-romantic matters. Luckily I didn't look at all out of place, considering everyone was screaming at the soccer games, except for the timing, so I was screaming alone, until a couple of Americans came in. Not UCLA fans, but I'm sure they were hoping I would buy them a beer if they cheered. (almost rhymed)

Didn't have to go to Antarctica to freeze my giblets off, even if it's summer here (according to spell check, that's how you spell giblets; I thought it would be a J. Actually, didn't know I had giblets, but live and learn). It's really frustrating being out at ten at night with a full sun while wearing half a dozen layers. And having to take off the gloves to take photos, on a camera that hates cold. Especially when you were in 70 degree sun the day before.

Schnitzel and Strudel in Frutillar, for that brief taste of old Germany, on St. Patrick's Day, of all days. For a longer taste, or better yet a taste of Austria, I stayed at the Hotel Salzburg. And fresh juicy grapes the size of cockroaches on steroids: mmmmm.

Just for the heck of it, on my way back from the Lake District to Santiago, I spent the night in a town called Los Angeles; pretty much had to, right? The next morning some Germans--real ones, from the old country--and Czechs tried to cajole me into going white-water rafting with them. Me, who's deadly afraid of water, possibly even more than heights! I figured I'd go along with the free ride and then chicken out at the last moment so I could take photos, but as it turned out their rental truck wouldn't start and I didn't have to go through any theatrics to stay dry.