South America: like America, but South.

Photos: Oh you know, Chile, Bolivia, Peru. That old hat.

amy — Sat, 12 May 2012 02:31:00 GMT

Trying desperately not to write an Ode to Steak. Entry may not be suitable for Vegetarians.

amy — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 14:23:00 GMT

It´s become difficult not to feel slightly philosophical about the amount of red meat i have consumed in the last three weeks. After a slightly disappointing bout of food in Rio (a girl's digestion system can only handle so much rice&beans) i had my hopes set incredibly high for the impending meat feast that would be Argentina. Let me tell you, i was not disappointed. But my juicy morsel does not start in Argentina, oh no. We nipped across the border (whilst travelling, such impossibilities as ´border hopping´become a casual 4 day pleasure weekend) to Uruguay. This had not been in our initial plan but my new culturally broadened mind insisted the more countries i get to see in these four months, the better. I´ll be perfectly honest, i didn´t LOVE Uruguay. I liked it. It was nice. We went to Colonia del Sacramento which is an old, slow paced town: some nice ruins, alot of dread locked ruin lovers and, my favourite, sea the colour of bronze which was pretty apocalyptic. There was a lot of leathered goods and a lighthouse that cost 15p to go up and it was all round a pleasant experience.After two nights of pleasantries we went to the burgeoning capital that is Montevideo. Again, it was a little on par, you know? Like getting a normal Double Cheese Burger without super-sizing. It was fine, but you could have done with those (metaphorical) extra five chips. To be fair to Uruguay, i only stayed four nights, which gave me no time at all to immerse myself in what im sure, is a wonderful place. But, instead of desribing the relatively ordinary cityscape, blah blah, im going to tell you where my meat journey began. Right here. Montevideo gifted me my first piece of Latin American steak, at nothing less than a whole market dedicated to the stuff. We heard whispers of the place in our hostel, ´Meat market? ´´Sounds alright, maybe i´ll find some bacon, a fry up, you know...´but my mediocre expectations were outdone. This was no ordinary butchers: this was a cooked meat, or more to the point, a seriously large grill´ meat market. Walls of deliciously charcoaly animal produced goods, as far as my camera lens could stretch, all tempting me away from the cheap vegetarian options i had cooked attempting to stick to my budget. I even ordered conservatively, a ´petit filet con papas fritas.´There was nothing petite about it. A wonderfully proportioned steak, chimcurri dressing and chips. If i was a judge on masterchef i would have something far more descriptive and intellectual to say about the effect it had on my pallet, but in lamest terms, it was REALLY REALLY NICE.

On that positive note, i´ll leave Uruguay and move on to the hubub of Buenos Aires. I ended up staying in BA for two weeks, which is quite a long time out of the four month period im over here. I suppose i really rather liked the place. We arrived on a Thursday at a hostel called Millhouse which we had been informed was THE party hostel (of course i had to be informed, ´party hostels´aren´t exactly my forte unless tea parties come under that banner). We got to our 6 person dorm to find two crazy Irishmen, one of whom was a professional gambler but could have easily passed for a professional leprechaun, some ham on the floor and a moody welshmen. Turns out EVERYONE in this hostel was English, Irish or Australian. Grrrrrrrreeeeeaatttt. Everyone was very pleasant, and the Irish gents introduced us to their equally Irish friends, one of whom was called Paddy ( i mean, COME ON) and we figured out that in Argentina they dont eat until 10/11pm and don´t go out to party until 2/3am. Ouch. We stayed 3 nights at Millhouse hostel, went out to three clubs, post 3am and got home when the sun came up (which actually was only 2 hours after we left to go out.) The music in the clubs was not brilliant but the atmosphere was and despite fighting sheer exhaustion i enjoyed my time at the party hostel. However, i would not, not if you paid me, do it again.(They had bed bugs which also contributed to the extremity of that statement, take note Trip Advisor). After leaving Millhouse we got down to the nitty gritty of exploring the city, trying to find Argentinians as opposed to that ´lad who knew your mate who you might have gone to school with who is also travelling. Coincidence!´kind of conversation. Buenos Aires is a a hugely European style city. Its diverse, cultural and exciting but not wholly different to the cities ive been to before. Saying that, i cannot fault its many charms. My particular highlights are as follows:

Cafe Tortoni - Art Deco cafe thats been there since 1883. The waiters wear bow ties, all the originial decor is still there and they have tango shows in the evening. Shame i went in my shorts, t shirt and muddy back pack. A true traveller am i.

San Telmo market - A huge market spanning 20 blocks full of arts, crafts, Argentinian tea gourds and vintage. Vintage gems you cannot but dream of. Imagine a load of 80 something Argentinian ladies getting together and selling their old wardrobes because they were now into Crocs and yoga. Fur coats, jewellry, bags, so many loafers i almost wept and oh my, the furniture. If i lived there my house would be awesome. A gramophone in every room etc. etc. I might even come back just for the market. My backpack was full before i came so i am coming home wearing the same scrubby clothes i left in. Sob.

Palermo - Dead trendy. That kind of trendy where the cool kids hang and there is fairy lights in the trees and they even have an Indian restaurant or two because cultural diversity is so in (even though not one person who worked there could claim to have Indian ancestry, and if they did, they would be lying.)We also went to a Tango lesson in Palermo, i now know the first basic 14 steps of tango. Learning however was not with a tall dark Argentian man with a penchant for smooth talking, but with a small very sweaty old man who kept telling me to close my eyes. I did, he was still sweaty and a little too old, so im not really sure what he was getting at. The parks in Palermo are amazing too. Parks in general are a big thing here. Read below.

The parks and ´taking mate´(pronounced matter) - We met some friends from Buenos Aires in our first hostel in Rio and were lucky enough to meet up with them a few times while we were here. On various bus journeys and travels down to the country, we had seen people with these little gourdy looking things filled with green leaves. Now for a long time i thought a lot of people here just had a serious drug problem and the government choose to ignore it. THEN, i realised it was tea. I had found my compradres, fellow enjoyers of natures tastiest gift. They drink their mate together, never a cup alone. The gourd is filled with yerba mate and topped with hot water. Someone drinks until the water is gone, its topped up and from the same cup and straw the next person takes their fill. You only say ´Gracias´when you dont want anymore. Im now an expert (I hope youre proud Marisol!) and have my own gourd, so when i come home expect seriously pretentious cups of tea while i talk about the world and stuff. You can drink Mate in the parks and the parks here help make it a wonderful experience. We spent a lazy saturday sauntering through (another) market, listening to jazz and watching various artsy people do artsy things in a Buenos Airian way. And we ate. Argentians like to eat, a lot, frequently. Respect.

La Cabrera - One of the best meat joints in Buenos Aires and it has a happy hour?! Im in. Since all the locals eat at an IBS inducing 11pm, 7-8 is when the gringos come. Their shameful lack of cool is rewarded with 50% off EVERYTHING. I shared a Kobe beef steak and a Rib eye steak, all medium rare, totalling around 600g meat each topped off with an Argentian red wine. For this priveledge i paid around 12 English pounds. Life was good. The steak was incredible. Better than everyone says. I tried to go back three times and failed every time. It´s like the big guy upstairs was telling me to savour that steak because it was, truly perfect.

Meat - But, i couldnt do without more so i started cooking my own! Its so cheap for such good meat that ive eaten a lot. I wont count or anything, but alot.

Nightlife - Once we left the Party hostel and settled into a nicer place where there was a lot of Argentinians and foreign studying students, we got to know the normal nightlife and it was really nice. The bar scene is big and i actually managed to find a bar/club that played Led Zeppelin and The Strokes instead of house music and then Adele. Adele is just as big here as everywhere else, in case you were wondering.

THe spirit of revolution that lives on - I feel as though i could write a whole article on the spirit of people in Buenos Aires. They simply will not settle. I remember in 6th form, we were left shamefaced after our teacher made us watch If, the film based on Rudyard Kiplings poem. He told us how our generation were so apathetic compared with the youth of the 60´s and 70ç´s who believed they could protest and stand their ground to make their voice heard. My generation and im sure those to follow think that posting a moody facebook status will do that job for them. (I discount the recent student fee protests as i think 70% of those kids were a sham...controversial). Here though, on the main Avenue running up to Casa Rosada, the political builing (Evita Balcony), there are protests, demonstrations etc. almost every day. None were violent or destructive but all were well attended. THe government does listen as changes are being made as we speak regarding some of the more regular protestors. If you´re at all interested check out (google) the ´Madres de Plaza de Mayo,´a group of old women who every thursday at 3pm march around the square demanding to know the whereabouts of their missing children (from the 70´s).

Its now 12.30 am my time, so 3.30 am your time. Im a little tired as i did a big old hike today ( thats a tale for another blog). That doesnt even touch the service of Buenos Aires, but i suppose i have to save some stories for when i come home. Im writing this from Bariloche, the lake district of Argentina then im off to Mendoza ie. Wine Country. Exciting tit bits to follow on both. Miss you all and also, Sunday dinners. Amy.x

P.s, photos not working again, but i am taking them!

Flying, feathers and fifty to a room. That´s Carnival, baby!

amy — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 01:26:00 GMT

As it write this, the weather is dreary and it´s drizzling outside (i can feel your smug smiles from here.) My tan has turned from a nice mahogany colour to a patchy grey. This is probably due to our proximity to Iguazu falls, a huge waterfall on the edge of Argentina and Brazil. We´re staying in a small nowhere town called Puerto Iguazu, where everybody drives incredibly slow, and all the restaurants serve is pizza, pasta and burgers. The quality of the burger determines the quality of the restaurant. Everything here is built around people coming, spending a day at the falls, eating, sleeping and moving on. That´s pretty much what we´re doing too. We got off our 26 hour bus journey from Brazil, (it´s ok, the last Harry Potter was on, so that kept us busy), headed to our hostel, enjoyed sleeping horizontally again, got up bright and early and headed to the waterfall. Luckily, it was raining when we set off, meaning we´d well and truly perfected the ´drowned rat´look before getting anywhere near the huge mass of water. I´d also like to say, at this point, that there is absoloutely no way, NO WAY, a rain poncho can look good. There was me and some 80 something American tourists wearing the glorified plastic bag, and they probably did it more justice than me.

The falls are incredible, and while i would like to get truly deep and meaningful and describe how awe inspired and reflective i felt, i just kept thinking, ´This looks so much like Jurassic Park.´I was convinced Jeff Goldnblum would appear riding a giant dinasour. I suppose what i´m trying to say is it looked prehistoric: check out the pictures, i hope you agree. We took the boat into the waterfall which was a hoot, though the power of the spray meant you couldnt actually see anything, so it was more like having a really strong power shower in your clothes than anything else.

That is my most up to date activity and i´ve currently crossed one border, only to cross into Uruguay tomorrow to then go BACK and experience the joys of Argentina good and proper in a few days. But enough of the future, i have the wonders of carnival to tell!

Since my last blog, it all got a little manic. We travelled back to Rio from Paraty and went on a hunt for our hostel. I have to say, we were pretttyyyy worried about this place, as a) it was relatively cheap over carnival and b) it didnt have a minimum stay of 5 nights, which every other hostel did. We feared for the worst. On the website it said the dorm roomed 50+ people. We got there, and found that 50+ actually meant 64, sharing two toilets and three showers. OH. But fear not worried adults, it was actually great! Our ´girls dorm´was separated by a large sheet, so we had all the privacy we needed, and it was probably the quietest hostel we´ve been in, as everybody just went out, came home and slept. Once our fears had been quelled about the mega sleepover situation, we dumped our bags and got picked up by Mr.Hang glider.How great would it be if that was his actual name and his profession was hang gliding?! Alas, i just cant remember what he was called. Off i went to throw myself off a cliff with only a large kite and a nonchalant Brazilian to keep me afloat. After a whole 30 seconds instruction, which consisted of, ´Just keep running off the edge, don´t jump, just run.´I figured, right, i better start running then! Off we flew, soaring over the top of Rio: the view was unrivalled, especially as it was a perfectly clear day. It was nice to be able to spot some places we´d been too. All the sightseeing paid off! Once my stomach left my throat and returned to its normal resting place, i couldn´t help but do the really British thing of forcing idle chit chat. After the inital ooohs and aaahs, you´re pretty attached to this person(the instructor)for the duration and i didnt want to seem rude. I went for the, ´So, how often do you fly?´´What are you up to this weekend?´ ´Weathers nice isint it?´route.I think he probably thought (knew) i was a complete dweeb, but overall the experience was an amazing one, and i´m glad we managed to squeeze it in.

Once back on land, we headed back home hoping to find hoards of people ready for some carnival partying. There was three people, Warren the 60 year old Australian nomad who was all partied out and two English people. Well, best make the most of a quiet situation! I pulled out my much revered cat mask and feathers, and we headed into the night to find some carnival spirit. What we didnt quite realise, in our naivety, was that a lot of the revellry takes place in the day and at night, it´s the slightly seedier version. Luckily, our group had grown to incorporate two Colombians, so i was sure that if anything kicked off, these guys could handle it. We had a great, if somewhat interrupted, night. All the ladies definitely learned that NO needs to be said multiple times in a firm, preferably Brazilian accent to get shot of the wandering eyes of the males!

The next day was far more successful. I´d heard about the Sargenta Pimento Bloc party, where they have a Beatles Latin American cover band, and everyone dresses up. We didnt have much time to stay, but did manage to fit in a quick boogie. Particular favourites being the jazzed up versions of ´Twist and Shout´and ´Drive My Car.´I bet old John and Paul didnt expect people would be samba dancing when they wrote Abbey Road!

We only had two nights of carnival, and the second night was the most anticipated. The SAMBADROME (duh duh duumm). This is the big culmination of carnival, which takes place in a huge outdoor stadium, where the best samba schools parade in a bid to win the ´best school´title. The event begins at 9pm and finishes at 5am. We got picked up at 7pm so it was a good 10 hour slog. The scale of the thing was barely comprehendable. 6 schools of around 2000 people parade for an hour and half with their own music section and 40 or 50 costume varieties, most of which were incredibly detailed. The floats were out of this world, enormous moving objects of weird and wonderful creation. I tried to capture some of the costumes in the pictures, but none of them really do it justice. All they served for food was Bob´s burgers, so i managed to stay awake mostly down to cheeseburgers and lots of coca cola ( i didnt want to give anyone the wrong idea by just saying coke.) It was a pretty tiring event but worth well well worth it. Ive not really seen anything done on such a big scale before ( think Tramlines needs to up its game to be honest.) It was a very memorable and apt way to finish our time in Brazil. I can only apologise if i come home and decide to wear only feathers and glitter from now on, but if they can pull it off, i can too right?

Next stop Uruguay, then Buenos Aires. Sorry the pictures are all so ´landscapey.´While my camera is very good (thanks James) it´s quite big, so not great on taking on nights out etc. Heena is good at that, so i´ll get some of her ´people pictures´to add a bit of human persepctive soon.

Adios for now,

Amy x

Photos: Brazil and Iguazu.

amy — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 23:23:00 GMT

Whole lotta landscapes.

Brazil: not just Big Jesus.

amy — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 14:11:00 GMT

Three weeks to write a blog post? I am so sorry. While Wi-fi is all the rage here, they haven´t quite updated the computers to a level that meets the demands of the internet greedy backpackers, meaning ive struggled to find a decent connection, or at least one that will sustain me and my ramblings. You,ll be shocked to find that quite a lot of people i have met along the way brought laptops or ipads with them. Carrying a laptop? I had to cut down on knickers so my bag was lighter! On a similar note( to the internet, not to knickers) this computer cannot, no, will not allow me to even try and put one little photo up. Sorry, its just going to be a big old verbose block of text, i understand if you tune out along the way. I´ll stop being tight and pay for some ´cyber cafe´time and get my photos up as soon as possible.

Anyway, i made it to South America! After a 20+ hour flight, we landed in Rio. Immediately i felt more cultured and the very moment i hit that 28 degree heat (at 11pm no less), my mind broadened and i was ready for my gap year yah. Our first stop was Copacabana, the one from that song? Youve probably not heard of it. Being completely shattered, the kind of tired were you think youre speaking complete sense then people repeat what youve just said and you realise youre a moron, that kind of tired, we arrived at our first hostel. The people at the desk spoke no English, all they managed to convey was that id been put in a different room to my travelling companions. Now, for seasoned nomads this would be a laughable event, but i was terrified! I had no idea about hostel etiquette, am i allowed to turn the light on? SHall i touch his bed to get to the top bunk? Am i breathing too loudly? In the end, i managed to climb onto my bunk with the agility of an elephant and slept fully clothed with my bag on my bed. Wild start.

Fear not though, after that slightly nervous beginning, ive totally got the hang of it. Copacabana is a very European place, it kind of feels like a world city. Not that that.s a bad thing, it just wasnt quite as different as id initally expected. We hung by the beach with an acai smoothy, because that,s what the cool kids here do, then we walked to Ipanema beach and realised you,re not a cool kid unless you,ve got an 8 pack or bikini bottoms that look like a dairylea triangle. THe beach is split into Posto´s, and they all have their crowd. The surfers have one, the transvetites and gay people have one, the ´beautiful people´ and the gym buffs have one etc. Needless to say, we went to the emptiest or the ´pasty english´one. We explored Copa and Ipanema which are enjoyable places, but pretty touristy. Not like Thailand touristy, just a little generic. During our first few days we did the big sites. CHrist the Redeemer is just like in the films. A really big statue with very impressive views of the city. IT was a boiling day and there were hundreds of people there, so i took some pics, refrained from mimicing the pose and went back down on the tram. Across the city from Christ is a mountain called SUgar loaf. Its the other must do touristy thing so we took a disappointly stable journey up in the cable car, waited for sunset and saw the city light up. It was truly impressive, you have Christ the Redeemer to the right and to the left is Rochina, the biggest Favela in Latin America. Not to try and beautify poverty at all, but as the lights came on the favelas literally glittered in the hills, making them a far more aesthetically pleasing spectale than their reputation allows. I wont go on about the big sites, those are the things that you all know too well. It was once we got past the tourist attractions that it started to feel like ´THIS IS RIO (2012)´.´Our first major taste of the night life was in a place called Lapa, where every friday they have a huge street party based around the steps ( see Snoop Dogg and Pharell ´Beautiful´video). THousands of people turn out for street music, food and best of all Caprinihas! THe atmosphere was incredible and while our Brazilian host made sure we ´watched out for any bad guys,´it felt a lot safer than we´d been led to believe. We tried a teeny tiny bit of Samba and realised that British girls cant move their hips. We´d have to work on that.

Ive already mentioned Rochina, which is a huge Favela in Brazil. Once we moved to Santa Teresa ( a very cool, cobbly Bohemian area), we had the chance to do a Favela tour. I had massive reservations about this, in fact, i still do really. I didnt want to go as if it was a tourist attraction and be the rich (comparatively) traveller kids taking snaps of the poor people. At the time however, it didnt seem possible for us to see a Favela because we were warned they arent all together safe. Tentatively i went on the tour, and am pleased i did. We got a moto taxi to the top where the tour guide explained that Rochina has recently been pacified by the police, meaning (only 2 months before) the drug lords who ran the Favela had been arrested and the police were now in control. THis is happening all over RIo and has been spurred on by upcoming world events like the world cup and the olympics happening in the city. The worlds eyes will soon be on Rio and the government are trying to clean up the less favourable parts to impress the hoards of imminent visitors. DEspite their superficial motivations, it does mean the government are forced to improve the quality of life for those in the favelas, slowly but surely. We weren´t conspicous and noone was taking loads of photos. We were encouraged to spend little amounts of money along the way, which we did gladly (local businesses, the samba band, the day care etc.)BEcause the favela has been under the control of drug lords for so long, those living there havent seen any tourists, people were too scared to go in, so now its a source of pride and along the way people were exhibiting art work, food etc. ITs a new means of income, so however tentative i felt about it, i was glad to have seen another side of the city without it being too much of a show.

Funnily enough, since that visit ive been to two other favelas with people ive met here and they have been amazing. One night, we went to Maracana to see the Manguiera samba school rehearse for their carnival performance. Its like a football team, the whole community has shirts and wears the colours and they have a mini stadium on the edge of the favela. Manguiera are one of the top 12 samba schools who perform for the prize at carnival. We only saw the queen dance but the band was amazing. THroughout the night Samba circles broke out and people, young, old and very old! were having ´samba-offs.´ Once again, another go at Samba put to shame by the speedy brazilian bootys. An amazing experience though and i cant wait to see the full show at carnival. We also went to Vidigal, another recently pacified favela we were staying on the edge of. This was our first bloco, which happens in the run up to carnival. A huge soundsystem starts in one place and people congregate, then more people join on and follow the music to an end spot where everyone has a party! THe Vidigal samba school were using this as a carnival build up too and finally, my hours of fake samba paid off and i got it! By george i really got it! Move your feet and hips reallyreallyreallyreally fast and youre pretty much there. Very sweaty but very fun. Considering all you hear about the favelas, it felt totally safe and as goes with common sense, as long as you don´t wander in with a load of bling on wearing fancy clothes and flashing your cash then you´re likely to be fine. We heard a few stories along the way but so far we´ve made it through just fine.

After much samba-ing in Rio, we headed for an Island called Ilha Grande, about 3 hours away. A little island with a lot of dogs, some restaurants and seriously beautiful beaches. We got a boat taxi ( much the same as a normal one but on water) to a one called Lopes Mendes. Look it up. It was paradise. I think that´s where Coldplay got their inspiration from. We literally did nothing but read and sunbathe. I would add sleep to that list but in my dorm there was a ´tooth grinder.´At first i woke thinking the aliens were coming or there was a mysterious animal trapped in my curtains. Both of those would have been preferable. CHeago, the smug Brazilian chap was a serious toothgrinder. I woke up each morning feeling like me and the hulk were on the same wavelength! THankfully the beauty of the island meant i didnt punch cheago in the face and had a lovely time. Following the island, we´ve come to a place called Paraty, a little village not far from the coast that has an amazing ´historic center´filled with painfully cobbly streets, white wash buildings and multi coloured doors. The run up to the carnival is beginning now and we´re on our second or third bloco!TOday we went to Bloco De Lama, which is a traditional bloco where everyone goes to this part of the beach where the tide is low and its really muddy. Everyone dives straight in gets covered head to toe in mud then marches through the town. We got straight in, got covered, took a picture, then got washed. Mud. Smells. There is a picture to prove it though.

Carnival is upon us, We know all the current songs ( there are only about three) and while i know in Rio it is going to be ten times the scale we´ve seen so far, im ready for it! We head back to tomorrow and the plan is to dump our bags, go hanggliding, go home, adorn our faces with glitter and go find carnival! On Monday we go to the Sambadrome which is the final event complete with feathery costumes, sequins and loud music. Its a 7 hour event!phew!

Sorry this has been a bit rushed. Ill be sure to do a more regular, less waffly blog. Im writing every day, its just hard to translate it all onto the internet. THese three weeks have gone so quickly yet it feels like we´ve been away an age! Its an amazingly complex, passionate and fun place and while Rio drawers to a close, we still have five more countries to cover.FIVE COUNTRIES. IN 3 MONTHS. Didint they make a film along those lines?

I hope youre all safe and sound in England and not to cold. ITs really really hot here by the way...

Id like to leave you with this closing thought:

Everyone in Brazil wears flip flops. EVERYONE. Havainas, obviously. So im left to wonder, have i found myself in a nation of flat footed people? Is the foot arch a thing of mystery here? Interesting, dont you think.

Until Argentina,

Ciao ( goodbye in Brazilian Portugese, yes i learnt one word!)

It's the final countdown.

amy — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 05:28:00 GMT

After what is possibly now years of talking about it (sorry folks), i am finally a mere ten days away from departure to South America. I've had my injections...they hurt, i've got a hugely overbearing rucksack and plenty of 'practical but hideous' fleeces. I think I'm set.

For those lucky few who haven't already heard ALL about my trip, i depart on January the 29th and, with two pals in tow, head to Rio De Janeiro. On May 29th, i fly from Quito in Ecuador back to old Blighty just in time to start summer. In between? Pretty much a mystery. After Brazil we hope to sample the delights of Argentina, Chile, Peru, Bolivia and Ecuador. That's not set in stone and on such a big continent, who knows where we'll end up!

The next ten days are going to be pretty manic: before i leave i have to pack, plan and execute a birthday party, celebrate an anniversary and a BIG birthday, say some pretty tough 'see you soons' and then negotiate an 18 hour journey before i am officially a traveller... but at least i'm finally on my way!

Im going to try to keep this blog as up to date as South American WiFi and Internet cafe's will allow. I won't be wasting precious 'mind broadening' time sat on facebook, don't worry, but it's as much for my sake as anyone who might be reading it!

I shall leave you safe in the knowledge that i have already bought feathers and glitter for carnival, so i'm practically a native and will have no trouble adapting to my travels whatsoever.

Amy