Forget jet-setting. I am bus-setting.

I loved my time on the farm. My days there were some of the most relaxing in my life. Being surrounded by social conversational Spanish for a week has improved my skills, and now I can speak with a little more ease, and less formality. Serious shout-out to the Cariola family for welcoming me at the farm, being patient with my Spanish, and making me fatter. I love them.

My last day on the farm was magical. I had breakfast with Pati and Moni as usual, then headed down to the lake to try to buy a plane ticket using Max’s computer. No dice as they don’t accept US credit cards online. So instead I parked myself beside the lake, soaked up some sun, went for a swim, then a spin in the kayak. No one else was around, and it was my own private paradise. We had a lovely lunch outside at the picnic tables again, and I ended my day siesta-ing and a walking around the farm.

My walk around the farm consisted of talking to the cows, talking to myself, attempting to climb a tree, breaking a branch I thought could hold my weight and almost breaking my arm, making blog videos, laughing because I am so damn funny when I am talking to myself, succeed in climbing a tree, took pictures with my cow friends, and finally watched the sun disappear over the hills. I am such good company.

I don’t ever need to think about finding myself a boyfriend or husband. Seems there are plenty of other people who are worrying about this for me, specifically my new big friends Sally, Moni, and Pati. I think it’s sweet. Moni wants to introduce me to her nephew who lives in Santiago. Pati is going to introduce me to her friend’s son in Buenos Aires even though she is not sure he “wants to fall in love”. Sally just told me when I left: I hope your travels are fantastic, and that you find yourself a nice boyfriend. If it’s up to these women, it’ll eventually be taken care of.

I am on the move again after 7 perfect days of leisure at the farm. I left yesterday morning at 12:30 with Pati and Moni, who saw me off at the bus station. I’m seriously going to miss those two. They proved that in friendship, age ain't nothin' but a number. They hugged and kissed me, wished me safe travels, and waved until the bus turned the corner and I couldn’t see them anymore.

I took an hour-long bus ride from Entre Lagos to Osorno, where I lugged my backpack to the Sky Airlines office. The office was closed for siesta. So I lugged my bags around for another two hours, wandering in and out of shops, hopefully shedding some of the weight I gained at the farm as I sweat in the sweltering heat, cursing my decision to wear jeans. At 3pm the office opened, I bought my flight to Punta Arenas and caught a bus to Puerto Montt. Once in PM I quickly stopped to send my parents and email to tell them I am alive, booked a hostel for the night, then jumped another bus to the airport. This is how you travel by the seat-of-your-pants with no pre-made plans. At the airport at 1 am I caught another bus to my hostel. I am a transportation master. Best part - when I arrived at the hostel I was the only person in my room. Score another for me.

This afternoon I took one more bus from Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales. My eyelids were heavy with sleep, but I didn't want to miss the landscape, so I stayed awake, chatting with my sweaty Chilean seat mate, Peter. Poor guy, the heater under his seat was on, and he was roasting. He asked me, like many others do, why I am traveling, why I quit my job, what I'm going to do next. I struggled to find the words in Spanish to answer him, and later when I reached the hostel, found this quote. I'm going to laminate it in English and Spanish and put it in my wallet. Every time someone asks me this question I will show it to them...

"Traveling is hard. Anyone who says different isn't a traveler; they're a tourist. A traveler's life and their trip are one in the same, living life while traveling rather than taking a vacation from life."

I have been trying to express this sentiment for the last 3 months, and now there it is.

Tomorrow I will run around all day renting and buying gear for my 6-day hike in Torres del Paine. To say I am excited would be an extreme understatement. Just the scenery at the edge of town here is enough to bring you to tears it's so beautiful. I can't imagine what I'm about to see.

Gear is mad-important. At times the winds in the parks can get up to 120km/hr. That's serious. And even in summer the weather is beyond unpredictable. You have to be ready for everything. And by tomorrow at this time, I will be.