by Mark Green
* *
I’m not sure whether Jonny enjoyed the train journey very much. It can’t have been much fun feeling as rough as he did. But all credit to him, he still managed to describe our surroundings.
“Imagine an old style train. Think Miss Marple and black and white films. Our individual sleeping compartment is a bench seat by day, transformed into two fold down bunk beds by night. There are other sleeping compartments along one side of the train, whilst on the other, a long corridor connects the carriages. Towards the forward part of the train is a buffet car. The tables aren’t fixed, they’re a rather quaint English tea room-style with pretty cotton tablecloths. The food is beautifully presented and delivered to each table on an ornate trolley by smartly dressed waiters who seem very comfortable with the rocking motion of the train. They’re serving the food without spilling any and appear to be able to anticipate the train’s every movement. Looking out of the window, we’re travelling across vast stretches of dusty open land, desert-like, but with boulders rather than sand. There are random small settlements. Some of the ramshackle buildings are white walled and others a terracotta colour. It’s a wonder how a community can survive out here, there’s very little vegetation. It must be a hard life.”
The best bit of the train journey for me was the cinema. Although I couldn’t see the film, I could get a gist of the story by listening. But this was no ordinary cinema. It was in the last carriage of the train, which made sense because you wouldn’t want people passing through as you were watching the film. As it got underway the carriage rocked and bounced around, which Jonny found highly amusing. He described how the action sequences had been filmed on a steadycam, making the images jerky and disorientating. But, this was countered by the train’s own swaying, juddering motion, making the frantic action on the screen appear almost static. Probably not what the director was intending!
* *
When we came back from the cinema, our cabin had been converted into a cosy sleeping compartment. Normally I’d have opted for the bottom bunk in case I got disoriented or forgot about the height, but it seemed likely that Jonny might need to get up in the night to dash to the loo.
He helped me up the short ladder into my bunk, making sure I could get under the tightly prepared covers, then climbed into his own bed below. It felt strange, lying there on my own. We’d been travelling together for over two weeks and during that time we’d always shared a bed. I lay there gently rocking with the train’s motion, trying to pinpoint what I was feeling.
Lonely, I decided.
* *
Me
I withdrew into my shell a bit for those couple of days. Although I wasn’t the fittest of people, (the first jogging session with KT2 had proved that) I still wasn’t used to being so unwell. To be honest, I think the indignity of it all was the worst bit. Sharing a single room (and bathroom) with me can’t have been very pleasant, it’s not like you can have diarrhoea quietly. I started to question the wisdom of travelling when I felt so ill. Only I wasn’t really ill was I? It was only an upset tummy for goodness sake.
It’s a shame I wasn’t feeling great, because the train journey was fantastic. We left the flat barren dustbowl of Patagonia at six in the evening and by late morning the following day we were gently chugging towards Bariloche. Outside, the train was surrounded by snow-capped mountains on one side and lush forests on the other. We could have been in a European ski resort.
My spirits were lifted by the clean, fresh air and this amazing scenery. It was still on the cool side, but warmer than Puerto Madryn.
I guess the cold Atlantic wind was missing here.
We lugged our rucksacks off the train and headed for tourist information.
“And how long are you staying in Bariloche?” asked the English-speaking lady at the information desk.
Now there was a question I hadn’t actually thought about. We were winging it. The only date we had to hit was the Inca trail in a couple of weeks’ time. That had been pre-booked for ages.
“Erm, three, maybe four days,” I volunteered, not entirely sure myself.
Something Kate Thornly the 1st and I had agreed on when planning this trip, was that when possible, we would try to find self-catering places to stay. This would give us a bit more space and freedom, but more importantly it would allow us to cook for ourselves and be certain that there were no nuts in any of the meals.
And that was how we found ourselves at the fantastic Cabanas Vientos del Sur, in our very own ski chalet high up on the far side of town. The views from the lounge window were magnificent. Lush greenery and the glistening lake with pine trees along the far shore beneath snow topped mountains. The wood-clad chalet was completely self-contained, with two bedrooms, a huge living room come kitchen and two bathrooms! (How sad am I to be excited about two bathrooms?!) And get this, all for only twenty quid a night! As luck would have it, the ski season had finished the previous week, so the price had dropped massively.
Such luxurious home comforts were in stark contrast to the endless bland hotel rooms we’d been staying in.
That evening we cooked a superb steak dinner after a leisurely trip downhill to the local supermarket. Even that was an adventure as we’d eaten out every day since starting the trip. I’m not the best cook in the world, but I know how to do steak — rare with a little seasoning, mashed potato and vegetables. It was fantastic!
It wasn’t until the end of a very pleasant evening sitting ‘watching’ TV, that I wondered what the protocol would be at bedtime. Up until now we’d always shared a room and had developed a nice little routine to circumnavigate the undressing and dressing thing. Typically, I would go to the bathroom first, allowing KT2 to change into her night wear — usually a long tee-shirt and men’s boxer shorts. It didn’t matter of course if I wasn’t dressed by the time she returned as she couldn’t see if I was naked. That took a bit of getting used to…
But, I had a dilemma now there were two bedrooms. Did we have one each or continue to share? The owner of the cabins had assumed, as one would, that we were together in every sense and so only the main double bed had been made up.
Would it be rude of me to suggest we had separate rooms or chivalrous? I contemplated this for some time. We both started to yawn, yet neither one of us wanted to broach the subject.
“Um, I was going to offer you the double bed, and I’ll have one of the singles next door. I know how you like to stretch out…” I said, trying to make light of my dilemma.
“Oh, right. I guess I did wonder about that. Makes sense I suppose.”
There was an awkward moment or two.
“Did they make the bed next door then?” said KT2.
“No, I’ll use my sleeping bag.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”
* *
It seemed strange parting company for the night, retiring to our separate rooms. I had to chuckle at the irony. For the last two weeks I’d been overly conscious of not stretching out so I didn’t inadvertently touch KT2. I’d learned to sleep almost rigid, barely moving throughout the night, which was unusual for me.
Kate Thornly the 1st had often complained that I was a fidget who wanted the whole bed. Yet here I was perfectly content in my sleeping bag, but missing the fact that I didn’t have to worry about bumping into someone else. Was there something developing here that I needed to be aware of?
No, I decided. KT2 and I were polar opposites. Although I admired her attitude to life, this was a business arrangement, nothing more.
* *
KT2
It was one of those awkward situations where you wonder about the best approach. But because you don’t express a view either way it just sort of bumbles along and is never discussed. Neither person is brave enough to say, actually I’ll miss you if we have separate rooms. And it’s a cold night. There’s nothing more in it than that, but do you mind if we just snuggle up in here together?
It felt lonely in the double bed on
my own, despite being nice to stretch out. I couldn’t hear Jonny close by and that was a bit unsettling. I suppose I’d got used to having him next to me. What had seemed awkward the first few days - sharing a bed with a complete stranger in a foreign country thousands of miles from home — was now perfectly natural.
I wondered how Jonny was getting on next door. Perhaps he was oblivious, he had suggested this after all. But then, knowing there was two separate bedrooms he might not have wanted to presume we’d still sleep in the same bed. Perhaps he’d felt duty bound to suggest sleeping apart. I shook my head and turned over.
Who knows…
Twelve
KT2
“Your boyfriend is very sweet, looking after you,” said the soft English accent next to me. Her comment took me by surprise, it had never occurred to me that I’d ever be taken for Jonny’s girlfriend.
“Yes, he is, isn’t he,” I said, feeling a bit self-conscious as I pulled the tight wetsuit over my calves and rolled it up my thighs, wobbling on my feet as I stood up.
“You all right there, need a hand?” said Sandra, my new found friend. She’d kindly escorted me to the small woodland cabin which served as the ladies’ changing room.
“I’m okay thanks, just feeling my way round this rubber suit. Do we get a whip and stilettos too?”
Sandra laughed, then I felt her fingers against the small of my back, helping to unravel the neoprene.
“Here, it’s all bunched up,” she said.
I tensed up. I don’t really like being touched without warning. That might sound odd as I’m always offering a hand or arm to whoever is around to help guide me, but I always know that contact is coming. It wasn’t Sandra’s fault. She could obviously see me struggling and was just trying to help.
“Can I ask you an odd question?” I said, slipping my other arm under the tight shoulder strap as she zipped the back of my wetsuit up.
“Sure.”
“Can you describe Jonny to me?”
There was a pause while Sandra considered my request.
“He’s about six two or three. A big guy, not fat especially, but a bit overweight. His face is slightly chubby, but round and jolly looking. He has a few days stubble but judging by the way he rubs his chin, he’s probably normally clean-shaven. So, you’re not actually together then?”
I smiled, shaking my head, but strangely I wondered whether Sandra was a potential threat. I checked myself. Threat to whom exactly?
“I don’t suppose you remember seeing an advert a few weeks ago, on eBay?”
“You’re that Kate? Wow! And you’re blind too, how did that go down?”
I started to relax. I was interested that her description of Jonny was different to Maria’s. Although I suppose it was bound to be. Maria just wanted me to go off on an adventure. What did it matter what Jonny looked like?
“I guess you could say it was an eye-opener!” I said, giggling.
Sandra burst out laughing, maybe a little too enthusiastically. I felt her hand on mine. I flinched again.
“If I can help with anything at all, I’m your gal,” she said, her breath very close to my cheek.
“Oh, thanks. Perhaps you could just show me to the door please?” I stammered, as I offered my elbow and she clasped my hand instead.
* *
Me
I’d only been waiting for a few minutes, having been fairly quick getting into the wetsuit, which definitely wasn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn. I’m a fairly big bloke and despite the young grinning instructor’s claim that I had an ‘XL’ suit, I reckon it was a case of one size fits all. That’s okay if you don’t mind doing a contorted dance whilst trying to get your undercarriage comfy. But as soon as you try to straighten up again, your shoulders stretch the suit upwards and you’re forced to wince and realign everything. So I was a bit pre-occupied when KT2 was escorted out of the changing hut by another English girl. I didn’t pick up on anything out of place. Perhaps I should have led her down to the river myself, but she seemed happy enough.
“If my voice shoots up a couple of octaves KT2, don’t worry. I’ve just signed up to a new government initiative to curb world overpopulation by volunteering to strangle my genitals. You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I glanced up and thought she looked relieved to hear my voice, but I still wasn’t picking up on anything else going on.
“I’m looking forward to getting wet, to cool me down. These suits are hot, eh?” said the softly spoken English girl, which immediately pulled my attention away from adjusting my crown jewels.
“Thanks for taking care of Kate, I’m Jonathan,” I said.
I offered my hand, which without me realising gave KT2 the chance to latch onto me as Sandra released her.
“Hi. I’m Sandra. So you found another Kate Thornly. Good choice.”
KT2 located my free arm and clung onto me, hugging the gap under my elbow with both hands. It was affectionate and I felt my body start to react to having these two pretty women in close proximity. They were a turn-on, but not in a pleasant way. Growing interest down below meant I was tightly trapped in the tangled confines of the suit.
“I think they need us by the boats,” I stammered, as KT2 and I picked our way through the trees, down to the shore.
Sandra stuck to us like glue. It wasn’t until we were sitting in the rubber dingy floating down river, that KT2 whispered in my ear and I finally understood what was going on.
“Help! I think she’s hitting on me…”
I was a bit taken aback. Stupidly I thought Sandra was interested in me. Amazing how the male ego can be blind to the obvious.
“Are you sure? She seems nice enough.”
“A bit too nice, if you know what I…”
The rest of her sentence was lost in the shout from our enthusiastic French instructor, followed by the roar of rushing water.
“Left side over!”
The four rafters opposite us pulled their paddles into the dingy, then leapt over towards us as a wave tried to lift our side of the boat and flip us over. Thankfully their shift in body weight did the trick and the boat stayed upright. I was still digesting KT2’s observation about Sandra and frankly dismissing it. Surely Sandra had to be interested in me, right?
Wrong.
I looked at KT2, only to see Sandra grinning up at me, her hands on KT2’s thighs.
“Sorry bout that, didn’t know where to grab!” said Sandra, adrenaline heightening the tone of her voice.
I felt KT2 stiffen beside me. Fortunately there wasn’t much time to worry or analyse how I felt about an attractive woman flirting with KT2, because it was our turn to dive over to the opposite side as the dingy spun round into the next wave.
“Right side over!” shouted the instructor as we all scrambled to shift our weight to the appropriate position. I went to lunge over, but felt KT2 hesitate. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her with me to make sure she stayed in the boat. I tried to avoid the waiting arms of Sandra, but she seemed determined to gather KT2 towards her.
“Hell of a place to pull a dyke!” KT2 whispered as we waited on our side for the next command from the instructor. He was loving every minute of riding bronco at the back.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. She’s probably only trying to get to me through you anyway,” I added.
I took the opportunity of a distraction during a flat section of the river and started a nervous, excited running commentary of our descent through the rapids.
“The water is white, frothing and wild! There are tall jagged rocky cliffs about fifty feet high on each side. To our left is Argentina, on our right, Chile. There are two other rafts ahead of us and more instructors in kayaks shooting the rapids with us. Ahead is a huge roller coaster wall of green, blue and white water. I can see the raft ahead of us dip down, it’s lifting high now and, oh my god, here we go...”
I held KT2 tightly as we dropped down into a deep trough.
“Wave coming in, right side!” I shouted in KT2’s ear, as a wall of water hit us side on. The dingy stalled, bent at forty-five degrees until it was spat out of the trough and sent us hurtling into the next roller coaster rapid.
“Whooopppeee!!!! shouted KT2, scaring the life out of me.
“This is bloody amazing!…”
Another wave rushed over our heads, smothering us in freezing water.
“Yeeehhhaaaa!!!!”
* *
KT2
That was the biggest adrenaline rush of my life! I sat beside the river at the end of the rafting session listening to the water gurgle past, grateful for the warm clothes as I gradually came down from the excitement. I think Jonny must have had a word with someone, because in the changing room two other girls, a brummie and a French girl introduced themselves and asked if I needed any help getting changed. They seemed to understand my unease as they chatted happily about their boyfriends. I guess they wanted to reassure me that their attention was well-meant and genuine. I heard Sandra’s voice behind them, but they’d escorted me into a corner of the room where they could protect me from any unwanted advances. They did a great job of handing stuff to me without touching me needlessly. How ironic that of all the situations in which to feel vulnerable and not sure quite to handle myself, it was in a ladies’ changing room!
I thanked my new guardians as I sipped hot sweet tea with them, happy when the French girl whispered what a nice boyfriend I had. Their names were Dominique and Becky and they were staying at the same hostel as us.
“Is it true that you’re the Kate Thornly? We heard about you in France!” said Dominique.
I chuckled and nodded my head. It was a new experience for me, being famous.
“What’s he like in bed?” said Becky, loud enough so Jonny might have heard. I smiled as I pondered the question.
“A gentleman,” I said, with a tinge of sadness.
