As part of a long series of bets, dares and challenges, which I never turned down, never lost, and even (and only) won a free lunch back in Puerto Natales, Maria challenged me to eat her little jar of jalapenos in a shot. We set the reward at five Euros.

Doing the maths (asked Duarte, our currency specialist), it would almost pay for the night's stay at the hostel. Pros and cons weighed, needless to say, the challenge was accepted.

The referees decreed the move legal so I poured in a little ketchup. I took a deep breath. I weighed the glass in my hand. If I had any sense, I'd be feeling pretty stupid at this point.

But I don't and it went in one go. The dozen jalapenos, the ketchup, and a spicy vinnager they were soaked in. I choked on the vile vinnager and the jalapenos nearly made me beg for a quick death. My whole tongue felt like it would set the table on fire if I licked it. My throat swelled up, burning. But I chewed every one of those jalapenos with their nuclear seeds. Red as the ketchup, eyes all wet, I smiled proudly at a job well done.

One by one Maria counted the coins in front of me. Five euros, as promised, in a handful of twenty cent coins. Five euros that I can't change anywhere or do anything with. The jalapenos hadn't made me want to cry half as badly as the ringing sound of coins piling on top of each other.

"Well, you'll have the souvenier to carry around so you can remember me and this bet," she said, laughing. I'll have that souvenier for a very long time.

If I had any sense, I'd feel pretty stupid.