Hola All,
Today is unique and almost amazing because there is no wind trying to blow me over and steal my cap. This a first since arriving Patagonia and makes a pleasant change.
My last communication was from Rio Gallegos on the eastern side of the continent in Argentina and I am now on the other side in Chile. Getting here has involved a few epic bus rides and nothing really exciting in the way of exploding windows or kidnappings but a summary is:
Rio Gallegos to Ushuaia – 13 hours and the quality of bus was less than normal because there is no competition on this route; 1 ferry crossing of the Magellan Straights which was very efficient; 4 lots of inefficient customs and immigration at 1 hour each as we went in out of Chilean territory with the border crossings being literally in the middle of nowhere; about 4 hours of metal roads; a stop in Rio Grande which wins the prize for the most plastic rubbish pinned to anything above the ground by the wind; after Rio Grande the landscape changed and there were TREES, not very good trees, but eventually we were in what looked like beech forest and surrounded by snowy mountains. Then all of a sudden you pop out of the mountains at sea level by the Beagle Channel and you are in Ushuaia and very tired.
Ushuaia to Punta Arenas – another 13 hours starting at a most unreasonable hour that had me out of bed at 4am, but it was the only bus out of town and I supposedly got the last ticket; 1 inefficient border crossing to Chile and another ferry across the Magellan Straights which sort of travelled on a 45% angle to counter the wind and included a few alarming dips and sways that had me checking where the life jackets were; longer metal road sections than the previous one; 21 Poles on board who seemed like a good lot (the first I have ever met travelling) and passed around a brandy bottle when things got boring; also an Aussie couple who were looking decidedly concerned before we got going because their ticket said somewhere else than Punta Arenas which shows you should never trust travel agents to do anything outside the very ordinary. The husband had some very colourful ideas of what he would do to his agent we they got back. Apparently very little had worked as it should have.
Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales – an absolute doddle of 3 hours only marred by the person in front of me waiting till I had dozed off (briefly) and then jamming her seat into the utmost possible recline which crushed my knee and woke me up as I said naughty things.
While in Ushuaia I did a day trip which started with a boat tour in the Beagle Channel where we saw pinguinos, sea lions and other birds. These are on small rocky islets and the boat gets right alongside so the nearest animals are about 5m away and 200 Germans push you out of the way with their big camera lenses. We went past Puerto Williams which is the real last town on Tierra Del Fuego – Ushuaia is relentless in promoting itself as El Fin Del Mundo but they are lying. Then a few of us got off at an old estacia while the rest of the herd returned. This was a very interesting place with lots of history and a 6 stand shearing shed not much different from the ones I was a fleeco in many years ago, and an old grey Fergie just like my Dad had. It is pretty much a tourism operation now but the 6th generation of the original English missionary who built it are still there. His surname was Bridges because he was found as a well dressed baby left on a bridge and that was the reason the orphanage gave him his name. We went back to Ushuaia on a small and bouncy bus and on the way had a close look at the devastation being caused to waterways by the introduced Canadian beaver, a sort of aquatic version of Australian possums in our country, which really has stuffed things up. We also stopped at a kind of frontier homestead where a skinny little guy in a multiple coloured beany told us all about the various sled pulling dogs he has. In the winter you have rides but as it was we looked at all the dogs and tried to be appreciative. One variety can pull a small sled at 60 ks – if it been winter I would have paid plenty to do that. That evening I had a dessert which turned out to be whisky and ice cream – having eaten it with relish I had a sudden memory of the last time I had this particular dish. It was in Buenos Aires, a long time ago, the night Kay and I were flying home, and I suspect I had made a thorough inspection of the red wines in the restaurant before eating the said desert and going to the airport. I felt less than perfect when we got to check in and I sat on my box of 6 bottles of local wine while Kay went to check in and to explain that I was not well and we needed the 3 middle seats all to ourselves. I had given her the key words in Spanish but she was defeated by the gender nonsense and came back to me and said the clerk wanted to know how I could be pregnant.
When I got to Punta Arenas in Chile it was immediately obvious I was in a more “sensible” country than Argentina. Things just looked more solid and the bogan element of fat bastards with metal stuck through their faces was missing. Argentina has always been a country of immense potential that has never been realised. Ushuaia was an exception to the other 3 cities in south Argentina I visited – Comodoro, Rio Gallegos, and Rio Grande all had crumbly edges, beat up cars, and time wasting police checks as well as architecturally optimistic monuments to “Los Heros de Malvinas” (Falklands) coupled with extensive tagging to rival Italian towns outside of the important tourist areas. It is surprising how many Argentinos died in that war and I think the current state of the memorials may indicate that people know they were conned by the military into the war. Having said that the Lonely Planet does have a serious warning about raising the subject with locals. Anyhow how back to Punta Arenas, Chile – having found a room I went out to get some local currency, which took 4 different attempts before my card worked. A bit disturbing. Back to the hotel where the bedside lamp didn’t work and had to be replaced and there was no soap or shampoo. I got out the computer and couldn’t get wifi in my room – went down to reception where the result was the same. A bit more disturbance starting to verge on pissedoffness. This was explained to me as a Punta Arenas internet problem so I went out to eat and ended up having a very bad meal. In the small world of solo travel these little things have a major multiplier effect on ones equilibrium so I went to a supermarket on the way back to my hotel and bought a small bottle of red wine plus a bar of real chocolate with the aim of giving myself some physcological balance. It worked because back at the hotel the man in reception proudly watched me get the computer going and the wine and chocolate made me stop being grumpy about the gum chewing waitress who didn’t understand my very clear and concise Spanish and served the worst food by far of the trip. And it turned out that the tv had CNN in English for the first time on the trip so things were very much back in equalibrium. The first thing I saw was one of those scrolling banners on the bottom of the screen metioning a drunk and naked All Black – the quick google I did to see who that was did not result in a surprise. One of the dishes I had in that bad meal was supposedly the local scallops in garlic sauce and it was crap, but tonight I tried the same again in Pueto Natales and although not in Luigi’s class it was very nice.
I had tried to book accommodation in Puerto Natales yesterday and when I rocked up to Hostales Francis Drake (surely a brave name in a spanish centric country) it turned out I had given dates a day later than reality. But no problema because a volcanoe had caused a bunch of booked Germans to stay in Santiago and I am happily ensconced in a nice cozy room. The guy that owns the place is French and only slightly unhappy about the World Cup and we have had a very lengthy yarn about travel in general, the difficult nationalities to have in one’s hotel, food, wine and the dangers of moslem immigrants.
Life could be worse and as long as the weather holds the highlight of the trip is next.
Hasta Luego
Dennis.