2018 and 19 were something of a machine gun. In 18 it was Hellas Rally then shortly afterwards I was off to Iceland. Obviously back in my IT days I must have been paid a little more than I am now as a teacher. Hectic as well because one relationship was ending as another was starting. Then while I was in Iceland Lenore failed for the first time. Boom.
Then, snow still on the ground in Germany, and freshly in a new relationship I found myself flying off to Santiago in Chile to buy two XR150s and head out on a four month long trip with a companion who’s total riding experience to date was “a few times around the garden”.
I’ve already written about drowning my bike on the salt flats in Bolivia, and I have written a technical article on buying and registering a motorcycle in Chile. I’ve written nothing else. Here at the end of 2025 I find myself somewhat sad that I don’t even have any notes. It was an epic journey by any measure, the most exotic of my travel career to date. This photo essay is, I hope, a first step in regaining some resolution in my memories of the trip and writing about a few more episodes.
Somehow the dates on the photos have gone wrong, as has my memory of where and when they were taken, so the gallery is intentionally randomised.
Ruta 40.
😛
The Holy Llama.
The classic.
Fixed it!
Glowing Llamas.
The boys we met on the boat.
These guys saved my life in Peru.
I was not expecting TukTuks!
Aguas Calientes to Machu Pikkachu.
Also Baker, I think.
Hello friend.
One of the most incredible places on earth.
Jesus with Halo.
Not a place to break down.
Camped by this ultra windy lake. Looks like the sea.
Some waffle about “a land of contrasts”.
Finally, a proper desert, it has cactus!
A Balkans-Feeliing.
A little pully operated river crossing.
The only shady tree.
On the trail between Chile and Argentina.
Just before a grim, wet night in the rainforest.
Emergency Fuel.
Didn’t catch anythng.
Between Argentina and Chile.
Calm.
Just off the main road, perfect wild camp.
I don’t recall where this was.
Just deserts.
Ever the ladies man.
Infinity Mirror.
Yet another lake!
Love riding near a minefield…
Old Motorbikes.
I was trying to show a “handy trick” to get out of a hole. Went well!
Goodnight.
The was to the Rainbow Mountain which nearly killed me.
Dusty first steps at that.
Windy and cold indeed.
We had to hide from the wind.
Spent three days on this little thing.
There’s a glacier somewhere around there.
Good for rust…
A farm with beautiful skies.
365 sunsets a year…
The skies…
More contrasting hillsides. Creative, right?
The things left behind.
No fish for the fire.
Another campsite.
Contrasts.
Chilly.
The biggest mirror in the world.
Washing the sale off.
Rio Baker.
A little desert feeling.
The field looks so calm compared to the lake.
Old school transport.
Fire, skies and camping. I miss this traveling solo.
I had to go, tourism be damned.
In honour of Ed March.
Well, hello there.
Drowned it!
Macho Pikkachu!
Another European looking view.
Remote places.
Down by the “legendary” fishing lake with no fish.
This was up above Santiago, on my way to find a hot pool. Took all day!
First steps around Santiago.
Epic landscapes.
Another world.
Salty waters.
I hope no train comes…
Beautiful lights.
Volcanoes.
Chilly.
Almost Scotland.
It’s like a giant, unending Alps.
Wonderful colours.
Out on my own, Bolivia.
An extremely steep road.
Surprise!
Also Rio Baker.
Very wild-west.
We were happy to get to tarmac, but the roads were long and empty.
Here we did, but it was windy and cold.
The Ride. Kreiga OS18 system on the side panels.
Up high in Peru.
The way back to Santiago was icy cold, but beautiful.
Layers.
Could as easily be a field in Germany as on the other side of the world.
Volcanoes in the sunset.
Sunsets and Llamas.
It’s obligatory.
Hiding in a wind shade.
Flat boats ferry traffic back and forth at pace, Peru I think.
A Machu-Picchu resident.
Rainforest.
Ludicrously, I carried eggs for breakfast up this beach successfully!
…wasn’t supposed to be there!
One colour was flowing into the other, but I don’t recall in which direction.
You Llama.
Not for swimming…
In trouble…
One of the easier crossings, one very nearly did for me…
Definitely no swimming. This storm collapsed our tent!
It’s a cloud, not a volcano…
We did not swim!
The only fuel for hundreds of miles, a logging station.
The classic.
Where’s Road Runner? Meep Meep!
My companion out on the salt flats.
No idea what or where this is!
This route over to Argentina was surprisingly exhausting.
This was down the Austral,.
A little isolated salt lake.
Sunset on the salt flat.
Stayed a few nights at a friend’s farm.
It’s a mighty dramatic landscape.
Very cold. No Swimming.
Hurt my teeth doing that.
A national park in Argentina, iirc.
A salty lake.
High up and not much there.
Sail Away.
Cave.
As rusty as a two year old Himalayan.
Rio Baker Too!
Weather was, as a rule, very good – this looks a little grim.
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