(The following posts are from my final travels, a 3 week circuit of southern Patagonia, during the first three weeks of December)
Ushuaia, Argentina. Arguably the most southernly inhabited settlement in the world. The Chileans would take issue with that, with their town called Puerto Williams across the channel, but what else is new? I feel like it's a rivalry between all countries on this continent. Chi chi chi, le le le!
After 1 hour of sleep the night before - you have to love these Buenos Aires nights - I stumbled to the airport to catch my flight to Ushuaia. Getting on an airplane in this country is never a straightforward experience, and it seems as if you can't complete a flight without being delayed during some point of your journey. But hey, we got here without any problems. Not that I remember the flight - I slept through the peanuts and everything. We reached Ushuaia uneventfully to be met with a coastal settlement nestled up against some touring peaks under a cloudless "ceiling" (the flight captain searched for the english word for cielo, which means sky, and came up with ceiling - close enough). After spending the last few weeks in the blistering heat of the rio de la plata, stepping off the plane to temperatures in the 30s was a bit of a shocker.
The town itself acts as a jumping off point for all expeditions to Antartica. The main pier is lined with big supply ships and tourist cruisers. Somehow dining on white table-cloths and sleeping in king sized beds while going to one of the most remote parts of the world doesn't really work in my mind. But if I were to drop a few grand, the cost of these tourist trips to Antartica, like the rest of the passengers on my plane down, I'd want golden goblets filled with the best of malbecs.
The afternoon saw us cruising the Beagle Channel in a small yacht, taking in the wildlife populating the rock mounds littering the channel. Sea lions competed with Patagonian seagulls for a piece of rock to take a nap on. Our pilot would take us to within inches of the rock, making me wonder if we were trying to find a rock to take a nap with them. It turned out to be a fantastic ride - after telling us that spending any more than a few minutes in the water would give us hypothermia, our guide suggested we walk on up to the front and sit in near-freezing water spray and enjoy the view from the front. We eventually made it to the symbolic lighthouse that marked 'el fin del mundo,' and all our guide could say was 'welcome to the ass of the world.' Indeed welcome, amigo.
After 1 hour of sleep the night before - you have to love these Buenos Aires nights - I stumbled to the airport to catch my flight to Ushuaia. Getting on an airplane in this country is never a straightforward experience, and it seems as if you can't complete a flight without being delayed during some point of your journey. But hey, we got here without any problems. Not that I remember the flight - I slept through the peanuts and everything. We reached Ushuaia uneventfully to be met with a coastal settlement nestled up against some touring peaks under a cloudless "ceiling" (the flight captain searched for the english word for cielo, which means sky, and came up with ceiling - close enough). After spending the last few weeks in the blistering heat of the rio de la plata, stepping off the plane to temperatures in the 30s was a bit of a shocker.
The town itself acts as a jumping off point for all expeditions to Antartica. The main pier is lined with big supply ships and tourist cruisers. Somehow dining on white table-cloths and sleeping in king sized beds while going to one of the most remote parts of the world doesn't really work in my mind. But if I were to drop a few grand, the cost of these tourist trips to Antartica, like the rest of the passengers on my plane down, I'd want golden goblets filled with the best of malbecs.
The afternoon saw us cruising the Beagle Channel in a small yacht, taking in the wildlife populating the rock mounds littering the channel. Sea lions competed with Patagonian seagulls for a piece of rock to take a nap on. Our pilot would take us to within inches of the rock, making me wonder if we were trying to find a rock to take a nap with them. It turned out to be a fantastic ride - after telling us that spending any more than a few minutes in the water would give us hypothermia, our guide suggested we walk on up to the front and sit in near-freezing water spray and enjoy the view from the front. We eventually made it to the symbolic lighthouse that marked 'el fin del mundo,' and all our guide could say was 'welcome to the ass of the world.' Indeed welcome, amigo.
Word on the one street in town was that the glacier up the hill (read: mountain) was pretty spectacular, so we headed up to check it out. The trip turned out to be a failure, with us finding ourselves in the middle of a whiteout following a river that had a very thin layer of ice on top just waiting to shoot us down the mountain in some of that hypothermic water. We decided to turn around before we turned into the next lost party of unprepared guys who thought they knew what they were doing but got spanked by Mother Nature. We kept things a little tame for the afternoon by wandering the halls of the Shawshank of Argentina hearing ghost stories of the first prisoners. Dufrane! I couldn't help but think of Port Arthur as we walked the dark, cold, cell-lined hallways. Anyone up for a light afternoon tourist activity?
Our final day in Ushuaia saw us going on our first true hike in Patagonia. All that hype you hear from people about hiking in Patagonia, they don't know what they're talking about. It's more than what words can describe. That's assuming you have good weather. If you don't, I can think of a lot of words that can be said that better not be posted here. But we lucked out with the weather gods - they probably took pity on us from our whiteout windstorm the day before - and found ourselves wandering along a coastal trail in the Tierra del Fuego National Park with absolutely spectacular, albeit somewhat chilly, weather. We gingerly moved past an extremely protective herd of wild horses as we made our way to the shores of the bay. From there, it was a four hour hike of non-stop magnificent vistas. Water as blue as Thailand but cold as water can be, quiet green forests dense with brush and trees, hawks and condors circling up above just waiting for a rabbit to be stupid enough to run out into the open, beaches littered with skipping rocks and tall snow-capped andean peaks keeping constant watch from across the bay - truly a hiker's paradise. That's when I don't mention the wind, but let's just return to the utopia I just mentioned. In all seriousness, it is probably one of my favorite hikes I've ever done.
Unfortunately our time ended in Ushuaia following that hike. But on to the next adventure of this Patagonian expedition - El Calafate, home of the Perito Moreno glacier. And what better way to call it quits to Ushuaia? Spend three hours waiting in the airport because our flight was delayed.
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