South America Diary

Share this article

A long time coming, this trip to Chile and Argentina. Of course, Hub had visited in the 70s on business, when the political situation was chaotic and dangerous, but he was selling sawmills and mining equipment and it was before the days of instant communications, so if you had work to do, you went and hoped for the best. 


Our trip this time was for vacation and for me, also, research for my novels. In The Fifth Man, one of the protagonists – Markus – is seriously injured when his mineral exploration plane goes down near the Atacama Desert, in the north of Chile close to the border with Peru. Later, he visits the Swedish consulate in Santiago to renew his passport. I wanted to experience first-hand what that might have been like and I needed to know more about the situation ‘on the ground’ at the time. Did I luck out! More about that later.


When we arrived at Pearson 3 hours early to check in, a cheery Delta airlines staffer told us – as we lined up – that the flight was delayed. No problem. We had almost 4 hours to wait in Atlanta for our connection, so we weren’t worried. After 90 minutes, though, with no arriving aircraft in sight, we weren’t so sanguine. Mechanical difficulties. Aircraft is still in Detroit. Not to worry. Easy for you to say, Sister! In 2010, we missed our connection to Bangkok in Minneapolis by 10 minutes because the connector flight idled on the tarmac at Pearson for 45 minutes, then there were strong headwinds, plus the gates were miles apart when we got there, huffing and puffing and severely pissed off.


In any event, this time, there was another scheduled flight which did arrive from Detroit and depart on time. We got our reservations switched and arrived at the cavernous Atlanta airport in plenty of time, hopeful that our luggage was with us.The departure lounge was filled with folks chatting in Spanish. Hola! I flipped through my Spanish-English dictionary, trying to pick up on conversations and remember words buried deep since I’d studied the language in high school. No housework or worrying about the grubs destroying the lawn.  


I find long-distance travel soothing most of the time. The nine-hour (and nine minutes) flight to Santiago was uneventful. We’d sprung the extra coin for upgraded economy seats – two side-by-side at the window, with more legroom. Drinks, read a bit, dinner (ugh, chicken again), wine, bathroom break, knee bends, read some more (Donna Leon’s latest), then sleep. Half-wake, drink some water, snooze.


I awoke just as the sky was beginning to take on a light glaze over the curve of horizon. I love sunrise at 33,000 feet. It’s so primal, always brilliant, always life-affirming. Metaphysical. I just know that some ‘thing’, whatever you call that much-greater-than-humanity Being, had a hand in this. By comparison, we creatures are so puny and powerless. Puts things into context, doesn’t it?


Like a kid, I spent the entire time until we landed with my nose pressed against the window, snapping pictures, holding my breath, filled with as much sense of wonder at the glory of what was emerging before me as the light of the rising sun was burnishing the skies. But it was -57 degrees out there. The clouds beneath us glowed like rippled sand on a beach, looking substantial enough to walk across. As the light strengthened, they faded to pale and the magnificent Andes mountains rose out of the darkness.

Recent Posts

by Hyacinthe Miller 22 April 2026
Passion is defined as a powerful emotion or intense feeling about some one or some thing . It can be positive, like joy or romantic attraction or negative, like anger or avarice. We often talk about passion as though it's a luxury, something to pursue once the practical business of living is settled. Or if someone is passionate about music or art, the environment or, yes, writing, that passion is somehow over the top or not quite proper. But passion has a way of refusing to wait politely in the corner. Plus, passionate people usually are interesting. Write passion into your stories with energy. Don't censor yourself or hold back - you're creating characters with a range of emotions, wants and needs. When you edit your work, make sure you've seasoned the story with elements of passion. That's what readers want to see on the page. Stop for a moment and think about what kind of passion would make you sit up and pay attention. It might be a hobby you set aside years ago but still think about, or a person or project you wish you had not abandoned. Who was that special person who influenced how you see the world? Books that opened your mind in ways you could not have expected? A work of art that made you stop in the middle of a museum and catch your breath? A piece of music that brought you to tears? Passion is all around us, if we simply take the time to stop and hear or see it. It doesn't have to be explosive or shocking, either. Let's be curious about the world around us. It's never too late to let passion be the plot twist in your life story, the unexpected turn that reframes everything that came before it. For me, writing fiction has been exactly that — a thread I kept returning to, no matter how many other obligations filled my days. The first story I wrote was called Whiffy the Skunk. I remember reading it to my younger brothers, and how satisfying it was for my ten year old self to hear their laughter. When they asked for more stories with bigger adventures, I knew that I'd found my calling. I was a writer. Creative possibilities don't announce themselves with fanfare. They appear quietly, as a pull toward something you can't quite stop thinking about. Pay attention to that pull. It knows where your story is going.
by Hyacinthe Miller 17 April 2026
Every writer I know is waiting for something. The right moment. A longer stretch of time. The fully formed idea. The confidence that what they write will be good enough. Here's the truth: writing confidence doesn't arrive before you start. It builds because you started. Sure, it's daunting to be faced with a blank page in your notebook. Or to have to watch that blinking cursor on the vast expanse of unfilled space on your computer screen. The thing is, that inspiration you're holding on to won't suddenly appear. You have to sit down and do the work! You don't need to write a novel today. You need to write 300 to 500 words — a scene, a moment, a fragment of something that interests you — and call it done for now. Lower the bar until it's easy to step over. Then step over it every day. Progress beats perfection every single time. The finished page, however imperfect, is infinitely more useful than the perfect page that exists only in your head. Yes, you are a writer. You can do this, one word, one sentence, one paragraph at a time. Short stories, scenes, small fragments of writing all count. Start with confidence, because confidence is a decision, not a feeling. And don't forget to give that writing a title, and include the date when you save it, especially on your hard drive. As those pieces of work add up, you'll have a visual marker of your progress.
by Hyacinthe Miller 14 April 2026
A Not-So-Quiet Revolution
by Hyacinthe Miller 11 April 2026
Your character’s Wound-Want-Need Triangle is the story engine that drives everything.
by Hyacinthe Miller 9 April 2026
Here’s a snippet from a conversation early on in Kenora’s interactions with Jake...
by Hyacinthe Miller 19 March 2026
The Lake Decision - 3
by Hyacinthe Miller 16 March 2026
The Lake Decision - 2
by Hyacinthe Miller 14 March 2026
The Lake Decision - 1
by Hyacinthe Miller 14 March 2026
...About the word 'Black'
by Hyacinthe Miller 11 March 2026
Bernice was my mother's name. It's still difficult for me to say that out loud. She's been gone for years, but I have so many happy memories.. Thanksgiving and Christmas were always busy, happy times for our family - music, laughter, food, company, drinks and desserts aplenty. As the only and firstborn girl, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen learning from my mom. The purpose wasn't only cooking, though. In the warm, scented confines between the countertop, the stove and the fridge, we'd chat about almost everything. She'd listen to my adolescent tales of woe or triumph and I'd hear snippets of her life story before and after children. My three younger brothers learned the basic culinary skills when they got older, but their main objective was to taste whatever savoury or sweet item we were preparing.
Show More