“Otra mas, otra mas!” The Brazilian boys want me to play another song on my guitar.
“Cual cancion quieren?” I ask them in my broken Spanish what they want me to play, it’s close enough to Portuguese that they can understand.
“Bob Marley!” they shout. I oblige them with Redemption Song and they sing along happily. They know all the words, even if they don’t know what they mean. I’m glad for that, I really don’t like singing solo (I haven’t had enough to drink for that just yet.)
It’s New Year’s Eve 2009/2010 and we are in Ushuaia, Argentina - the southernmost city in the world. 10pm and the sun is still up. I am sitting amongst a group of Italians, French, Argentinians and Brazilians. I am the only Kiwi and the only native English speaker (the only one who will be singing Auld Lang Syne in a couple of hours). Some of the others can speak a little English, but not much. However with my limited Spanish, and their limited English we are able to get most points across.
But to be honest, the conversation is not so important to me. I am happy just being in the company of my new-found friends, laughing, drinking, eating, playing guitar and singing along. In fact I couldn’t be happier. Sometimes the language barrier seems unimportant, just sharing a beer and a smile is enough. We all have something in common after all, although it’s hard to pin down exactly what that something is.
It’s not everybody who thinks to bring in the new year in a small city in Tierra del Fuego, an island at the very southern tip of the South American continent. Something has drawn us all here for this moment. A sense of adventure, a compulsion to get away from the norm, to find somewhere special, a place where what you’re wearing or where you’re from is not as important as who you are. And here in Ushuaia, in the back yard of this hostel, we have found this place.
I was a little worried I might be spending New Year’s Eve like I spent Christmas Eve, alone. But no, in this hostel I was instantly accepted, invited to dinner by the gay French couple, offered a beer by the Italian couple and a shot of tequila from the Brazilian boys. Then when I produced my guitar from my room, there was a round of applause and a string of requests. This is a genuine and uncomplicated friendship, one which supersedes any language or cultural barriers that may lie between us.
Something that has become apparent to me on this short trip into the deep south is that no matter how beautiful the places I visit may be, how awe-inspiring the mountains or big the glaciers, what really makes or breaks the overall experience is the people I meet and the moments I share with them. There are some aspects of travelling solo which I really love, I enjoy relying on myself, going it alone on hikes or sitting by myself on top of a mountain, with not another soul in sight, soaking up the view and having time to think about everything, or nothing at all. However there has been times when I wish I had somebody beside me, somebody to share these experiences with, somebody to turn to and share a look of understanding, knowing that you will always have this moment in your lives, and that it can never be taken away.
As beautiful as the connection I have with all these people here is, it just can't compare with the relationship I have with my friends back home. If I were in New Zealand I would be spending New Years with them, camping in Queenstown or Nelson or at a music festival in the middle of nowhere. These are the people I grew up with, they know me and I know them, we have been through a lot therefore the relationship runs a lot deeper. I'm reminded of this when I look at the three friends from Brazil, they have known each other for years and it is obvious in the way in which they act with each other. There's no fake politeness or niceties, but there is a love and mutual respect, and it's obvious they really care for each other (in a tough, manly kind of way). I try to imagine how cool it would be to have all my friends here with me right now.
As beautiful as the connection I have with all these people here is, it just can't compare with the relationship I have with my friends back home. If I were in New Zealand I would be spending New Years with them, camping in Queenstown or Nelson or at a music festival in the middle of nowhere. These are the people I grew up with, they know me and I know them, we have been through a lot therefore the relationship runs a lot deeper. I'm reminded of this when I look at the three friends from Brazil, they have known each other for years and it is obvious in the way in which they act with each other. There's no fake politeness or niceties, but there is a love and mutual respect, and it's obvious they really care for each other (in a tough, manly kind of way). I try to imagine how cool it would be to have all my friends here with me right now.
My Brazilian bros want another song. The beer brewer from Buenos Aires passes me a cold, freshly opened Quilmes and smiles. “Salud.” I say taking a swig and putting the beer at my feet. I strum the opening chords to “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd.
Having said that, if I had been travelling with a friend or friends, maybe I never would have met any of the wonderful people I did along the way - Danny the slightly crazy Israeli guy I hitch-hiked with, the friendly Belgian couple I shared lunch with next to a river who then directed me to an amazing camp site under Mt Fitzroy, or these people I sit with now (to name but a few). These characters are the real treasures that I will cherish and remember for the rest of my life. After all, if I returned in thirty years the landscape would be more or less the same, but to meet somebody at that particular place, at that particular time and to share a moment with them, no matter how brief, that is part of the magic of travelling, and of life.
Coming out of my shell and making friends with complete strangers is not something that comes easily to me. It usually takes time for me to gain the trust of somebody before forging a friendship. Often I prefer to keep to myself and not to draw any attention my way. Although I hate to admit it, I guess you could say I am quite a shy person. But unless I want to spend all my time travelling by myself I have to learn to spark a conversation, be less guarded and more open with the people I meet. As great as it would be to have one of my best mates here travelling with me, I know that it is good for me to work on this part of my personality.
So, as this decade draws to a close, so too does this leg of my journey. I will take these memories and musings with me, pack my bag and head to North Mexico to carry out my next trail building contract. It’s a new year with a whole world of new experiences in store, new people to meet, new environments to explore and many new adventures to be had. Cheers 2009, it’s been emotional, now, 2010 – let’s see what you’ve got for me shall we?
Coming out of my shell and making friends with complete strangers is not something that comes easily to me. It usually takes time for me to gain the trust of somebody before forging a friendship. Often I prefer to keep to myself and not to draw any attention my way. Although I hate to admit it, I guess you could say I am quite a shy person. But unless I want to spend all my time travelling by myself I have to learn to spark a conversation, be less guarded and more open with the people I meet. As great as it would be to have one of my best mates here travelling with me, I know that it is good for me to work on this part of my personality.
So, as this decade draws to a close, so too does this leg of my journey. I will take these memories and musings with me, pack my bag and head to North Mexico to carry out my next trail building contract. It’s a new year with a whole world of new experiences in store, new people to meet, new environments to explore and many new adventures to be had. Cheers 2009, it’s been emotional, now, 2010 – let’s see what you’ve got for me shall we?
Feliz Ano Nuevo!
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