Sleeping Rough

This little white street dog asleep in an empty tree pit turns out to be the first photo I make on arriving in La Serena Chile, at the start of a journey in which I will travel through the Atacama desert, the Andean uplands of northern Argentina, see some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet, and cross the Andes, twice.

A journey of a lifetime no less. 

So where’s the smiling selfie with an exotic backdrop? 
The high five whoop of pumped-up adrenaline for the ride ahead? 
A Facebook link-up with multiple ‘likes’ from friends in a virtual landscape? 

Truth is, leading up to this trip I had been going through a period of mental turbulence, caught in a vortex of depression and anxiety.
To an extent I managed to hide the worst of it from those but nearest to me, and remained ‘functioning,’ with the help of my daily fix of alcohol. 

I would drink to take the edge off the anxiety, which would gradually lull me into a place where I felt relatively 'normal' again. But the next day the anxiety would return, a vicious circle that kept spinning day after day. 

The opportunity to travel then was a release, a way to break the cycle, though it was not an instant fix.
A friend had planned a trip to Chile, a kind of pilgrimage to mark a significant birthday, working in a remote mountain area with a family who ran a small organic farm. 
The plan was to meet up afterwards and travel together. I hadn't necessarily been thinking about going to Chile, but having previously spent time in Brazil, the opportunity to visit another South American country was an appealing idea, especially as I had no other plans I was putting into action any time soon. 

I arrived at Santiago De Chile from Rio de Janeiro at midnight, and grabbed what sleep I could, curled up on two and a half moulded hard plastic chairs at the airport before my connecting flight at noon the next day. 
The other half of the third chair was occupied by the legs of another traveller also trying to get some rest.
Though no one was watching it, the TV remained on all night, and the same banal adverts punctuated my slumbers. 

From my starboard porthole on the short flight north, I had a condor's eye-view of the Andes mountains to the east, an incredible sight, but my camera remained in my bag. 

By the time I got to La Serena I was wasted from travel, lack of sleep and mental fatigue.  

So I guess I empathised with this little dog, trying to get a little sleep before the battles of a new day began, and perhaps it's more honest and fitting than a smiling selfie in the sunset.