Last day (or so) in Argentina

Well, actually, I am back in Toronto now, a bit wiped out after a 14 hr flight in which I sacrificed sleep to watch 'My Super Ex-Girlfriend'. But its worth saying a thing or two about my last night and morning in Ushuaia and last night in Buenos Aires.
The guide, Daniel (not the one with dred locks), called in the evening, cancelling the bbq -- a friend was coming in from out of town, he was still at the airport for work, etc etc -- so no bbq but I did wander into town to find, miraculously, a vast number of restaurants open Christmas night. I chose a fish house with a Bob Marley concert on the TVs and Che paraphenalia everywhere. The grilled trout was simple but fresh and yummy, and the local microbrew, Beagle, wasn't bad either. I had a sudden realization that Ushuaia is really kind of like Victoria or Vancouver of Argentina -- where all the hippies and stoners go to enjoy nature, at the end of the world.
In the morning, I had a boat tour of the Beagle Channel scheduled that was to include a trek as well, but as I suspected, I wouldn't make it back to catch my plane. I was switched onto a massive touristy catamaran, swarming with asian tourists and people who seemed to have just gotten off a cruise ship. Two women were hunched over needlepoint cases instead of looking at the scenery and wildlife. The view from the Ushuaia airport (and of the airport) gives a sense of the panorama.

The trip was saved by a snarky family of New Yorkers who felt just as out of place as I did. They were very entertaining. And despite the immediate surroundings, so were the close ups of the sea lion colonies, the cormorants, some more ibis and other wildlife.


Back to Buenos Aires and to my luxurious room in Palermo Hollywood. The atmosphere was a bit colder, but the place was lovely. And the neighborhood full of restaurants and bars for beautiful people. I had a very nice meal at a beautifully designed place called Dominga, full of beatiful couples and families. Unfortunately, despite my best intentions, I couldn't make myself stay up for a night of drinking and debauchery...I crashed in the supremely comfortable bed around midnight. Woke up, ran around, succeeded in picking up the art I had bought, and then caught a remise for the airport. And now...here I am back in grey cold Toronto. I've downloaded the photos, and soon they will be appearing in the earlier entries. For now, I have to go scavenge for food.

Parque Nacional del Tierra del Fuego

I was picked up Christmas morning at 9am and off we went (after picked up a nice middle aged English couple) to the national park. The walk was relatively easy, but the scenery was spectacular. After a 3K piece through the forest of nidas and lengas we hit the shoreline and followed the path for several kilometres more along the bay. We saw some ibis again, and some oystercatchers, but also some flightless steamer ducks. A highlight was seeing a pair of flighted steamer ducks with chicks that were likely just a week or so old.

More walk along the coast, some pauses on the former trash dumps of the Yanagui (I need to check this) who lived along the coast several thousand years ago, to admire the view of the water and mountains, with the snow capped ones in Chile in the distance. For lunch we took a zodiac boat to an island in the middle of the Beagle Channel, and sat and ate in what turned out to be a sunny (and relatively warm) day.

A short hike after lunch, more views, and then a choppier zodiac ride back into the park to be picked up and shuttled back into town. The guide has invited me to a barbeque he´s having tonight, so we will see how that goes.




Tomorrow I head back for one last night in Buenos Aires, and then back to Toronto.

The Canadian invasion of Gable Island

Although it was supposed to rain, the weather was spectacular. Juan, the dred-locked guide, stopped by to pick me up at 8:30am, and I joined the van on a long and windy drive to a put-in point on a river. We all put on wellies and waterproof pants, grabbed an oar, and jumped into a rubber raft and began paddling down the river.


Winding S-curves, ibis sightings, upland geese and their chicks, and then a portage into the Beagle Channel. We paddled out to an island, where we saw three sea lions sunning themselves, and a bunch of cormarants with chicks.



We paddled on to Harberton Estancia, where we divested ourselves of the waterproofing and jumped on a zodiac which took us first to a colony of Magellan penguins. They are clearly used to the boat coming up, because there was a crowd striking poses for the tourists taking photos.


Amidst the Magellans was a lone King Penguin. Checking out the scene I suppose. Or on vacation. We continued on to Gable Island, spotting an albatross en route. Once there, we had a superior lunch in the cold at a table in back of the naval station there. Well fed, we went on a 4.5K trek through the woods of the island. Gable Island (and Tierra del Fuego) is infested with beavers, imported in 1946 from Canada, with the idea of starting a fur trade. It didn´t work so well, as the beavers have no natural predators here, and they simply dam up the water flow flooding out trees. (aargh...no pictures of beaver handiwork) The next importation might be of French-Canadian fur traders to hunt the beavers. Along the hike, we spotted some woodpeckers. Made it back to the coast to catch another zodiac back to Harberton, and then a van back to Ushuaia. I´m tired. And not tired at the same time.

It´s Christmas Eve, the big party night in Argentina. Happy XMas to those of you who celebrate! I´m not sure I´ll be able to scrounge up something to do this evening, but that´s OK. I have an early start for tomorrow -- a hike along the coastline in the National Park.

the end of the world

I am in the southernmost city in the world: Ushuaia. The rain that was here seems to have lifted, and there is a spectacular view of a blue green ocean and snow capped mountains. It could almost be Vancouver, except the town is a lot smaller, and they speak Spanish here. And Antarctica is a lot closer. I´m staying at a B&B, where the owners are incredibly welcoming and friendly. It´s a few blocks ooutside the center of town, but it is nice to escape from the bustle to a quiet street. Tomorrow I go off on a trekking, boating, off road tour to Gable Island where there are penguin colonies and apparently the perfect sampling of the local flora.

It´s 11pm, and while the sun has set it is still bright out. The orange light of the sun is reflecting off the few clouds in the sky over the harbor, and a pinkish tinge colors the snow on the mountains. It´s about 5C out and there are flowers in bloom. Hyacinths and other flowers I think of blooming first in the spring. But yet it is summer. Ushuaia is at the 54th parallel. And we are just two days after the solstice.

at a loss for words

Today´s outing was to the Perito Moreno glacier, the only non-receding glacier in the world. It stays put, not advancing either. And along with the previous trek, and really all the geography of Argentina, I am having a hard time finding the words to describe what I see. Indeed, I´m not sure I´ve actually processed what I have seen. The geography begets a kind of awe, but one that is different from what I expected...it is a peaceful sort of awe. With the mountains, their scale and immensity, along with the big summer sky here, feels like a kind of cocoon, enveloping and comforting, but not exactly warm because it remains impersonal. Still it feels benevolent --like the mountain will be there for you, for creatures. The glacier today was different. It offered a cold peace. A giant ice blanket, stetching as far as the eye could see, but with spikes and spears jutting up, creating a front line along the Lago Argentino. Not powering forward, but holding the line with a profound strength. The wind ships up off or toward it, threatening to suck you into its cold or blow you far away -- a warning. The glacial awe is cold, and so is its peace -- for it is peaceful. Yesterday, on the glacier was a bit different. The wind still felt as if it were conveying a message, but while we were walking on the ice, the glacier became calm, as if it were an animal being stroked. I suspect part of the skill of an ice guide is knowing how to avoid the winds, but of course, it could have simply been a happy coincidence that we got a calm spell.

Here are some pictures of Perito Moreno Glacier.




Tomorrow I am off to Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego. The last leg before heading back to Canada. The question is how delayed the plane will be.

Supertrekking

They don´t call it supertrekking for nothing. 30K in 1.5 days, over diverse terrain, including a tyrolean rope crossing and about 2K of ice walking. I am not sure how capable I am of moving. But it was spectacular. Our outing was unusual in two ways. Instead of the usual 14 people, we were 4. And for the first time in 15 days there was no rain. There was, however, a wind that whipped off the glaciar, almost knocking you over. Our guide, Gabriella, said that that was nothing compared to the wind at the Puerto de Vientos pass. The first day we walked through the park to the campsite, through a varying terrain, which included steppe-like areas as well as lenga forests. Through the trees we got views of the Fitzroy range and glacial lakes of an eerie greenish color. After about 10-12K, we arrived at camp and had a rather bad dinner of pasta with a powdered milk sauce. Still the carbo loading was not a bad idea. The next day had about 20K to cover. Diego joined us to lead us to the glacier.

First, a relatively easy hike to a tyrolean rope crossing of the Fitzroy River. Easy, that is, until the end, where the winds from the glacier started blowing. A tyrolean rope crossing involves harnessing yourself to a pulley system and, facing the sky, pulling yourself along the rope.


Getting to the midway point is easy, going up the other end is a bit tougher. A hike across the moraine, and then up a very steep climb, down again, and we reached the glacier itself. We strapped on the crampons and started walking on the ice - up and down ridges, along crevasses, into the middle of the Glaciar Grande at the base of Cerro Torre. Then a quick ice climbing lesson (here I have pictures to prove it!).
Back out off the glacier, up, then down, back over the river, back to camp for the second bit of lunch and then a 10K hike across easy enough terrain out to catch a bus.
It took a little while for our small group to gel but I think in the end we achieved some bonding. I really liked the guides. I promised to send them both some equipment (water bags for their packs), and now that I have posted this I will have to.

Some photos:

glaciers are cold

After a flight delay of 5 hours, and a plane full of American teenagers off to catch a cruise to Antarctica (and some really annoying NYC lawyer type who kept complaining about Argentina being a third world country), I´ve moved south, to Calafate, and relatively speaking, its cold here. Of course, its well above freezing (about 11C), but I´ve become accustomed to the heat of the north. I´m off to a two day, one night trek to El Chalten. The first day involves about 5 hours of hiking. The second day, a tyrolean rope crossing and ice climbing. We´ll see how I survive the cold and this sudden burst of activity.

As a preview, here are some photos from the first day of supertrekking...in El Chalten. The second one gives a hazy view of the Fitzroy range.

no photos allowed

In my brief layover in Buenos Aires before heading south I walked the town, this time to Abasto and Once, the mercantile district. Textile store after textile store. I´m sure I would have seen electronics or leather if I had walked in another direction. I found the two synogogues in the neighborhood, and was whistled down by a police officer while trying to photograph the sephardic temple, with the textile stores at its feet. No photographing. A response to the attacks in the early 90s, and I suppose to the current state of affairs in the world.

the bus

Cordoba bus station

Well. This second bus company was supposed to be better than the first. But. No movies. Only super sweet cookies for food. No blankets and really bad foam pillow. No matter. I was still able to fall asleep. Only to be woken up at 4am by the grinding of an engine that would not turn over. The bus was pulled over at the side of the road, stalled. After about the sixth attempt to turn the engine over, we passengers were cleared off the bus onto another bus going to Retiro as well. In the moment between realizing I needed to grab my bag and bringing it with me to the other bus, I looked up at the sky and saw it sparkling with stars.

This bus was not a luxury bus, which simply means it has narrower seats. I was woken by a whining young boy and two guys who´d clearly never been to the Capital Federal. One was taking photos of the highway with his cell phone camera.