From Santiago, Chile
The next day, like all good tourists, we gravitated towards the Plaza de Armas, only to find our way blocked in all directions by the sum total of Chile's military and naval might.

It wasn't to stop me going about my business it turns out, but rather a show of power in aid of Independence Day that you'd expect to come across in one of the world's great communist super-powers. Of which I'm pretty sure Chile isn't one. Still, it did make me wonder who was left watching the back door whilst all this was going on.

From Santiago, Chile
I felt so proud. If we weren't the only non-Chileans at this Independence Day party, we were surely the only Brits. So when they told us with such bursting pride that the Huasos riders we were about to see had won a standing ovation from the Queen on her 90th birthday, and when the crowd roared their delight, I accepted the thanks on behalf of Her Majesty.

Mind you, from what ensued, I defy anyone not to get up and belt out applause, even at 90.

From Atacama Desert, Chile
I looked at my long list of what we wanted to see and I was surprised to discover that what literally blew the list right out of my hand was the vast emptiness, but gloriously colourful beauty of the Atacama.

I’d heard it described as lonely, but I felt comforted by the warm colours contrasting so intensely with the bright blue of the salt lagoons and sky. I took a deep breath and sighed the sigh of sighs.

From Atacama Desert, Chile
Herein lies part of the magic of the Atacama, when the sun begins its descent and casts soft red and orange hues all the way to the distant Andes. It's a moment celebrated each day by visitors, some with guides enterprising enough to find a quieter spot for for nature's performance.

I had one of those guides. Oscar laid on an impromptu spread of wine and cheese, a luxury out of step with the name of the place - Death Valley - but a welcome way to bid adios to a surreal day, which began somewhere on the Bolivian altiplano.

From Atacama Desert, Chile
There needs to be a darn good reason to peel yourself out of bed at 4am, bounce over unceasingly bumpy roads in the pitch black for nearly two hours, climb to an altitude of 4,300 metres and clamber out into temperatures of -12, all before the sun has got down to the business ok poking its head above the horizon.

Then again, just rocking up bright and breezy to somewhere so raw and wild as the Tatio Geysers would feel probably a bit incongruous. They need to be 'won'. I'll tell you what though, never had a steaming hot cup of coffee been so welcome.

From Torres del Paine, Chile
One cold evening I went out to brush my teeth, standing on the lakeshore. I remember the sound of the water lapping. And I remember looking up to see the most extraordinary blanket of stars in the unusually clear night sky.

The Milky Way was a clear brush stroke sweeping across the sky above. It is the only time in my life that I have actually ducked my head looking at stars - I thought I was going to be squashed.

From Torres del Paine, Chile

The first rays of direct sunlight hit the top of the towers, turning them the most exquisite rich orange-pink colour. It was not that the sky became bright, rather the mountains were being set alight.

Bit by bit the light flowed down the sheer rock face until all of the towers glowed, then the snow field at the foot of the cliffs, then the surrounding peaks. It just kept on coming, each precious, privileged minute adding to the one before.