huevos

Gangs of El Calafate

Leaving El Chalten with some American girls, I met in Bariloche, Angela and Dannielle, we arrive at around 10pm at the bus terminal in El Calafate. Hmmm I have no transfer to the hostel so I play dumb and jump in for the ride. At least I wont need to lug my backpack too far.

The following day I am booked on a tour to see the Puerto Moreno Glacier. This Glacier is one of the most accessable in the region with lots of activity. Ice consistently falls form the monolieth. It stands at about 15 stories high, and about 4 kilometres long. We take a short walk to the viewing area before grabbing a quick bite to eat. By this time the weather has taken a turn for the worst and the rain comes down. Luckily I had some company while I waited for the weather to clear up for a decent look-see, a fellow by the name of Sam, from Germany.

We patiently waited on the bus, but realising that the weather was not going to relent we ran down to the viewing area to take a couple obligatory shots, luckily was saw a bit action, and with a big crash we got to see what everyone Oohhs and Aaahhhhs about.

That evening a few people from the hostel decided to paint the town red and we ended up getting home about 5am. We were in a little resturant that became a disco after midnight where all the old tunes were being played.

The dogs situation in Sth America is insane. Strays are everywhere, but none more evident than on this evening. They travel in gangs, causing havoc with humans and other canines alike. Short, fat, skinny, long and tall. These guys don't descriminate, you just need to know how to sniff butt. They chase the wheels of cars fearlessly, their tails wagging, and the pampered pooches with owners, they corner on the street hoping for confrontation.
All you could do is laugh at the mischeif they caused, and at one point, with the camera at the ready, two exhibitionists were caught in the act. Right in the middle of the road! After a night of shagging and mayhem you see them scattered all over the streets, taking it easy, and rejuvenating themselves for the following nights debauchery.

After my big evening, I also took it easy the following day. Eating hellado and pasta. With the disappointing weather at the Puerto Moreno Glacier I decided to take a boat cruise to see some other famous Glaciers. It would be remiss of me not to check out as much of this amazing landscape while all the way down in Southern Patagonia.

The Upsala boat cruise was definately the highlight of my stay in El Calafate. We saw three glaciers and hundreds of icebergs. It was beautiful. The water, a milky green, from the minerals of the glaciers and the magnificent ice castles, ones of little girls dreams, in hues of blue and white. The weather was bitterly cold on the water while travelling to visit the three glaciers. The Upsala Glacier is melting at an incredible rate due to global warming, kilometres have been lost in the last 50 years. the Upsala is named after a Swiss group/university who studied the galcier extensively. What they discovered is that glaciers change the landscape of its surrounds, resulting in rocky outcrops and few trees.

We lunched at a bay which is now reconginised as a national park. Magestic icebergs float around, breaking and melting. They float to the shore where many a photo opportunity presents itself. And you just can´t help but take picture after picture. Large two story icebergs have broken away from the glaciers, these take about three months to melt in their entireity. Only 15% of the glaciers are floating above water, with the remaining 85% submerged. It is difficult not to think of what would happen if the captain of the boat steered too close for the photo frenzied tourists. Watching theses giants cruise the waters you cant help but be in awe, its is like they live and breath, constantly changing their shapes, one never the same as another.

Soy muy inferma

Feeling pretty sorry for myself at the moment, I´m as sick as a dog, and let me tell you there is a dog every ten paces around this continent(read: I am REALLY sick). Hot and cold sweats, aching joints with enough flem, snot and dribble to drown the one said dog.

My last day in El Calafate, Argentina, I started getting a ticklish throat, and then it just snow balled, the fog of cigarette smoke you exist in only exacerbates the situation.

I think I caught the flu from one of the people in the dorm I was sharing. That was an experience in itself. I was sharing with a pig of a man, who would bless his room mates when they opened the door with his fat arse in a pair of silky boxer shorts. I thought he did not understand english or my limited spanish when I initially tried to communicate with him, but it turns out he was a resident from turds-ville. When we finally did get a sentence from the ignoramus, my Sth African roomie nearly melted from embarrassment, he was an ex-pats of his!

With my flu, I carry my freakin´ heavy backpack to the bus terminal at 7:30am. I boarded the 4 hour bus ride to Peurto Natales, Chile (this does not including boarder checks). Once I arrived I set off to look for a bus that will take me further south, down to Punta Arenas. This town has the airport that will take me to Santiago, Chile. Luckily I find a bus that will leave in 1 hour, so I look for an ATM, stock up on jelly (comfort food) and wait patiently. The money/peso siutation is vastly different between Argentina and Chile. From $10´s to $1000´s. I feel like I am literally spending millions, lost in the conversion.

Once I board the bus I sleep for the duration. I truely must be a sight. I can´t breath through my nose, so I wake immersed in a big pool of dribble. Loco gringa!

Arriving in Punta Arenas I am accosted by touts trying to get suckers into their hostel. And in this case I was totally beguiled. All I was after was someone to take me to the hostel of choice and give me free internet. The things you want in moments of desperation.

This hostel is a hovel. Kids and animals everywhere, paper thin walls, dorms and bathrooms designed and stuck together as an afterthought. After the initial shock, I resign myself to the reality. I´m too sick to go looking for anything else, plus I will just be sleeping off this flu.

For days now I have been trying to facilitate the flight from Punta Arenas to Santiago, hence the reason for the trek down here. Some words of advice - never gripe about the service you get in Australia. Sth America are still in the Industrial ages.

A little over 12 hours from boarding my plane and I still have nothing confirmed. Turns out the credit card details I supplied are not working, so they have requested that I scan and email to them, but this only comes to light when I follow them up for a status. Thank goodness for my trusty travel companion - babel fish translator!

So here I sit in the internet cafe singing out loud songs from anAmerican boy band that blar out of the speakers. Its a nice change from my twisted flu induced dreams, but I´m not sure what the other patrons of the internet cafe think.

Perhaps you´ll hear from me in Santiago. Wish me luck on the first evening star!

Route 40

Day 1
After discovering that I was going to be the only one participating on my safari, I was give the option to go on a two day bus ride down the same LONG stretch of road.

The first day was horrible, even with the bus drivers kind gestures of cookies and lollies. 7am - 9pm, 14 hours of solid driving and no reclining seats, air-conditioning or unpaved roads. To add insult to injury I shared my trip alongside a grumpy spanish fellow thrashing about at the window seat with long legs and loud music.

I was prepared for the unpaved roads but not the fact that my MP3 player would give out. How are the next two months going to progress without music?

We arrive late at the hotel and I must prepare for the early morning excursion to the cave of the hands. I´ve taken some beautiful pictures, the vast emptiness is far reaching, rarely a sign of life except for the tiny stores that sell ham and cheese sandwiches. Argh!!

Day 2
Up at 6am to eat a breakfast of bread and jam. I think am developing a cavity with all the sweets and white bread we have to endure. After three hours in a minibus we arrive at the cave of the hands. An indigenous site with art dating back millions of years. Given the long distances, I am thankful that I bought a travel pillow. It has been my saviour, my accomplice in escape.

We arrive back with the bus that will take us all to El Chalten. Lucky I score two seats, and I sleep some more, in between read Gabriel Garcia Marguez, (an South America Novelist)
´Love in the time of Cholera´.

Armadillo, llama, wild turkeys, sheep and horses are some on the fauna, but few and far between.

Dusty and dry I constantly feel parched, but aware of the fact that we have no toilet on board, every opportunity to go for a leak, I take....just in case. From the Obelisk in Beunos Aires to the Patagonian Steeps. This girls got class.

After a lunch of, you guessed it, ham and cheese sandwiches, we travel on the rough roads alongside the Andes. Chile is on the other side of the clouds.

After another 4 hours where my teeth rattle around in my head and the excess ´Trudy´ gets a massage, we pull up to an oasis. In the middle of this desolate land are two ladies with tables full of home cooking, tortes and quiches. All piping hot. Nothing could have been better after the food of the last few days. If only I had room for the lemon meringue tart.

Back on the bus after 30 minutes of gastronomic delight, A little respite, given the loss of my MP3 player, old classics are playing on the bus.

Late into the night, we arrive at El Chalten, tired and cold, and my mochilla is covered in a thick layer of dust from the trip.

But I am primed and ready for my ice treking expedition tomorrow morning - 7am.

Better than a Saint Bernard in the winter - Bariloche

After saying my farewells to Martyn at the bus station in Buenos Aires, I hop on an overnight bus to Bariloche.
My first experience with the cold weather, I was excited! I finally get to wear the cold weather gear I lugged all the way over. My bag weighs a tonne, and I have set myself a goal to throw something away each day. It sure has been a challenge. My bag weights 26 kilo. Watching all these trekers move in and out of the hostel with nothing more than a large day pack is a little embarrasing, but well what can you do, I NEED everything that is in there, truely.

Bariloche is a fantastic little town about 20 hours south of BA, lots of hostels, nightlife, icecream and chocolate! Oh, plus the surrounding area is brilliant for treking, mountain biking, camping, horse riding, white water rafting and canoeing. In winter it is the hub for skiing, boasting the biggest ski fields in the southern hemisphere. Argentinians come here for their holidays.

My first day I got aquainted with the town, and in the evening I hooked up with some people for dinner. That turned out to be a wise strategic move as I ended up spening the next few days with the fellow, Bryan, from the USA, while Chantelle unfortunately had to leave for El Calafate.
The only dumb move on my part during my stay was that I left my key card in the ATM, and had to go back to the bank twice to enquire on its whereabouts, second time round, the bank had it. Thank goodness!

The treking around the area is easy to access, and is marked well enough to go on your own. Which is what Bryan and I decided to do. We hopped on a bus to Colonia Swiza, with the intention of a trek, but we ended up chating with two Israeli guys who told us about Canopying, which for us Aussies is a flying fox. Another wise move as the weather was really crappy. Canopying was great, it consisted of 8 separate sections and we were high up in the trees, with our harnesses and screams of delight.

The following day we sussed out an awesome trek up to a place called Refugio Frey at Catedral. It was definately the highligh of my stay. Refugios are places high up in the mountains where you can stay once you finish your treking for the day. The places leave the shelters around our walking tracks down at Kosiosko for dead. They are esentially hostels, where the price for a bed and food is pretty much on par with what you would pay for in town. They all link into treks which can have you wandering through the woods for days.

We started out on the 4 hour (one way) 1700 metres (altitude) trek which had gradual inclines all the way through, until bam! the mother of all rock scrambles awaited us at the end.
While I am not that fit, I went resonably well, but who could compete with Bryan the fireman, who legged it up there with little difficulty. The exertion was well worth the effort, for as we reached the top of the climb, before us was a beautiful lake, hemmed by snow capped mountains and this spectacular rock face that was being negotiated by adventurous rock climbers. This rock was so tall the people climbing looked like little specks, and even with my binoculars it was hard to distinguish the finer details.

After the walk we rewarded ourselves with a nap on the shores on the lake. But for some reason a posse of Argentinians decided park their bums and mate cups right near us and talked rapidly for the duration. Newsflash - Argentinias LOVE to talk.

On the bus ride to the Frey trek we met two great people from Eastern Europe, with great senses of humour and adventure. The girl had hitchhiked around Southern Patagonia! Just as we were about to go we saw them in the refugio, they were staying the night. Both Bryan and myself were definately envious, and so after a gas bag we realised we were cutting it mighty fine for the last bus out of the town. So we legged it down the mountain for another 4 hour walk.

That evening after a crappy shower, but some mighty fine Mexican, I got my bag ready for the bus trip down Route 40.

Lo siento

Been so busy, but didnt want you to think I had forgotten my public.

So a quick entry to whet your appitite, before I head off on another bus. Plus the internet down in Patagonia is moy mal and expensive! Tonight heading down to El Calafate where the Puerto Moreno Glacier is, the most accessable in the world. Yesterday went on a 14 hour trek, climbed on a glacier, abseiled on it and even dined out on top of it, pan con queso y jamon. But geez if I eat another ham a cheese sandwich...

Drank the icy cold water from a pristine waterfall, better than the Agua mineral you pay for.

So when I get more time, I can fill you in on my time down South Argentina. It is truely an awesome place - so much to do, the scenery, the activities, its got it all. I would definately return, and upon reflection I could have spent so much more time in Argentina. Its cheap and so diverse in climate and landscapes.

The hostel I am staying at is SO busy, and every man and his dog smokes, passively I think I have had a packet, and that is just today.

Looks like getting out of Patagonia wont be as easy as I first thought, so I will have to fly back via Buenos Aires to Chile, but not before checking out the wine country in Mendoza. Vino tinto, yum!

Raining cats and dogs

Hail storms in Canberra? Flash flooding in Buenos Aries!
Today I was caught in what one ´Porteno´ called a summer storm. It was insane. Off to the internet cafe to plan my Patagonian leg of the trip and it started to bucket down.
Like everyone else I sought shelter under one of the eaves of the fancy apartment blocks. But there ain´t much shelter there I tell you, I was saturated. Waiting a good twenty minutes, I considered running back home. But while waiting I encountered a fellow who by chance was a publisher, and was involved in producing books about Patagonia.

***segue - I discovered he was legit (later today) when I went to a book shop that sells novels in english. Low and behold the book and author he mentioned to me was there.***

Given this chance passing I thought that it must be destiny, (even thought I am having a little difficulty in getting out of Patagonia/El Cafate and over to Chile) I am going to see how awesome this desolate wonderland is, but not with out a little more planning on the computer first.

So I decide to further negotiate the unrelenting torrential rain, the street gutters are gurgling with the pressure, and one of the main streets is covered knee deep in water. Cafes and store fronts are flooded, the downpour has covered one lane of the 4 laned thoroughfare. A man in his business suit has taken off his shoes and socks to get to the other side of street, and a paper vendor has lost his livelyhood down a collapsed sidewalk. The stall had literally disappeared underneath the cities drainage sytem.

Finally reaching the internet cafe I call my second home atm, there is no connection, all computers are down!

What can one do in such a situation, but go back to bed....