There are trips that remain with you forever and that start long before all plans are made and tickets are booked.
Probably, this trip began on cloudy December day of 1972, when my politicized Dad wanted to show to his little daughter "alive" president. The President was Salvador Allende. And then with crossing the continent with brave heroes of "In Search of the Castaways" ("The Children of Captain Grant"). At that time Chile, Argentina seemed to be something from another world, unreachable like another planet.

And here it is, many years later, early autumn morning, my plane landed in Santiago. Then there were La Moneda, the cancelation of the evening flight to Puerto Montt, which in spite of the absurdity of the situation gave opportunity to meet with amazing people; and then - the perfect form of the volcano Osorno, clear water of mountain lakes; animals on the farm, somehow natural - not organic, but natural; mountains around Bariloche and Milky Way right over head; sounds of tango on every corner of Buenos Aires, almost like doll's ones, houses of Colonia; vineyards and Andes around Mendoza, wine - I'm not a big fan, but the process is very interesting; sunset over Andes in Santiago; houses of great Pablo Neruda and amazing collections of anything that he brought from just anywhere; typical Pacific winter fog over the Valparaiso, which was only creating a special mood and made easier walking on swirling hills of this unusual town; the cemetery in Santiago, which has become a testimony to one of the darkest pages in the history of mankind.

I love South America. There is something in that air, in that land, which gave to the world so many heroes and where the most common word is "Libertad" that means "Freedom".

At the end - flowers from these countries with beautiful music of Horacio Salinasa and Astora Piazzola.
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