Later today we would be in Bolivia! We started the morning by heading back to the markets to see it in full swing, selling and bartering pottery, ceramics, wood and food stuffs. It was a very local market, with no other tourists there so it was interesting to see how the locals bargain for stuff. We were a bit early for all the serious meat but we did have some empanadas and fruit. After checking out, we headed towards the Bolivian boarder. The girls were looking forward to walking over the border bridge but were a bit disappointed to find that the bridge was not quite as romantic as they originally thought. We waited in line for ages until Ruth decided to approach an official to hurry the process along, and apparently he didn´t take his eyes off her breasts the whole time but it got us out of the line. I stood smugly in the line with three bags while people kept pushing in, but didn´t make a bit deal about it given shortly ruth would be back with the exit stamps and we would fly past them all! The Bolivian entry office was basic and easy. Ruth got told by the man the he loved her, classic! We headed up to the bus station to sort out our tickets to Tupiza, which is a few hours north and about half way to Uyuni. The bus station was nothing like I had experienced in South America so far, with crappy offices, painted signs and people shouting out destinations. The floors were covered in all sorts of cargo and other rubbish, no doubt destined for a bus like ours. The prices are so much cheaper than Argentina, costing only about $6 for a four hour trip. We settled on a bus and headed into town to kill a few hours. The food prices are so cheap, eating off the street for only a few dollars for empanadas, fruit and other good stuff. I also got by beard trimmed for a dollar or two which made my face a bit cooler. After a lot of tourist window shopping and several ice creams later, we boarded our crappy bus with just as many people standing as sitting.
The best way I can describe the ride was like sitting on a commercial washing machine full of rocks on spin cycle! It was so incredibly bumpy, noisy, and very hot! No doubt this will the first first of many of such trips. Surprisingly after a few hours it was fine, I even managed to get a bit of sleep at one stage. As we approached Tupiza the road became less of a road and more of a river bed, following, and crossing, the river several times over the course of an hour or so. The terrain as we entered Tupiza was mountainous and craggy, with huge red cliffs on all sides as we entered the basin. I had heard Tupiza was nestled in an amazing spot and was not disappointed.
After looking at various salt flat options and deciding not to get a tour from Tupiza because of the price, the girls decided to book their tickets for the next day to Potosi, as their time frame had also become a little pushed. We headed into town for a walk around at sunset, stumbling upon some dance performance at a school which was very entertaining. We found a chicken and chips joint for only 6 bolivianios, which is 1.50 NZ! I got a second plate cause I was so hungry and it was well cheap. I bumped into a chap, Ben, who I had randomly chatted to in a supermarket in Salta, who invited us up to his hostel to watch the Butch Cassady and the Sundance Kid. It seemed appropriate given these characters met their makers in the hills outside the Tupiza.
The next morning the girls and I visited the fruit market and then off to the bus station. I booked another night at the hostel and headed out to some canyons outside of town. I was going to walk but instead, after yarning to a lady at a fruit stand, jumped in a mini van for a single boliviano for the 6 km journey. I walked around a bit in the heat and headed back, stopping at a few other villages on the way. That afternoon I had organised with Ben and a few others to go horse riding around the canyons to the south of the town. We had a superb 3 hours around the canyons at sunset, for only 15 NZDs! After returning to Tupiza, I led the charge to an Asado, which served up a HUGE piece of steak and chirizo for only $6nzd. I had been saving my meat experiences to Bolivia where it is considerably cheaper than Argentina, and I was not disappointed. Whilst walking to the Internet cafe, I was accosted by the friendly ladies from the HI Hostel over the road where Ben and his mates were staying, and they convinced me to meet them in the plaza later to celebrate the girls birthday. Instead of going to the discotec, we headed up near the Christ statue for a bottle of pisco and lemonade, apparently away from the eys of the police. We drank for a few hours and tried to communicate in Spanish with some luck. It was very entertaining, especially with the cultural differences with Bolivian women drinking with men etc....
Because I didn't get all the photos of the amazing scenery at sunrise, I headed off to canyons again on foot in the morning sun. I had an awesome walk and covered some decent ground up and over the hills before my bus at 1030.
Ben, his mate Gary, and I jumped on the bus, along with a French chap Sylvain. The ride was incredible with views along numerous rivers, villages and mountains, at time reaching around 4200m. We stopped for lunch in a small local village where we got some strange meet, corn and potato, followed by and ice cream and then jelly and cream haha. The ride was some 6 hours all up into Uyuni and, as expected, we were accosted by tour touts right from the moment we got off the bus selling salt flat tours....see next post
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Salta to Bolivia: 23 - 26 October
It has been a busy week since my last blog! I bussed from Cafayate to Salta on a pretty local bus, which seems to be more of a trend as I head north. Not complaining because the buses are still comfortable and a lot cheaper!
I met an American chap, Ken, on the bus while were having a stop at a small cafateria which had 1 peso empanadas and pizza (cheapest yet). He works for Nature Magazine in America and had a lot of good ideas about travelling North West Argentina. Shortly before arriving in Salta the bus broke down, but a mini van quickly arrived for us to transfer over to. We watched the luggage being pulled out of the holds onto the road before being loaded onto the roof. Neither Ken or I saw our bags on the road and were told they were already up on the roof, but we had our doubts. Our suspicions were confirmed when we arrived in Salta without our bags! We jumped back in the mini van with the driver and headed back to the bus to collect our bags, which were in a hold that had not been emptied.
Finally with our bags, Ken and I made our way around a few hostels settling for a nice one near San Martin park. I did a bit of hand washing and headed up the gondola with Ken to get a good view of the city. Salta is surprisingly large, but doesn´t really seem to have a lot to do, so we both checked out tickets for further north. I had planned to head up north before coming back down a bit half way to meet a connection to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile to start the salt flats. I decided to sleep on it because they needed a booking from Salta for buses that only run twice a week. I am increasingly weary or booking anything more than a day in advance given plans tend to change quite a lot. Ken and I did a circuit of the most significant buildings around Plaza 9 de Julio and got some money out at the ATM, which had a line the longest I have seen to get money out. We found a local burger joint for a sit down meal with the locals. Ken managed to almost put a toothpick through his lip as he bit into his burger!! We left and took some night shots of the Plaza.
Upon returning to the hostel, I met two girls from Canada who had come down from Bolivia. After talking to them for a bit and going down stairs to a nice ice cream palour, I decided against going to San Pedro de Atacama (given the bus ticket was 180 pesos) and instead fast track it up north and cross the border at La Quicas.
Ken and I headed off to the bus station the next morning for a bus up north. Ken was making his way up to far north to Humahuaca and make his way back down stopping at several towns. I decided I would go to Humahuaca too, but stopping several times en route as the towns didn´t seem to warrant any more than an hour. Upon board the bus, I met Ruth and Rhake, who I had met previously in Uruguay and more recently in Puerto Natalas. They were evidently still on the gringo trail heading up the border of Bolivia that day. I convinced them that there was plenty to see on the way so they joined me on my flying trip of the north west towards bolivia.
We said goodbye to Ken at Juyjuy, where the tree of us would transfer to a smaller bus to Pumamarca, which is famous for the moutain of seven colours. The buses really are getting cheap now, with the hour and a half journey costing only 6 pesos! I passed time on the bus talking to a local chap. Looking at him I knew he was either gay or a hairdresser (long nails, pony tail with pink clip etc), and it turned out he was indeed a hairdresser. I got some good conversation practice in and learned a few new words.
Arriving in Pumamarca was pretty amazing. It is a very small town but it sits below the mountain which has distinct bands of colours. Before setting off on our walks to various miradors, we figured out the bus time to the next town, Tilcara, which left in 2 hours. We decided to head to Tilcara en route to Humahuaca, to cover 4 towns in one day! The walk around Pumamarca was incredible, although very windy at times. The mountains were simply stunning and not many tourists around. We took all the photos we needed and stocked up on a bit of food for the next bus ride to Tilcara, which was only 2 pesos!
Tilcara is a pretty small sleepy town, which attracts more Argentinan tourists than foreigners. It is a well presented town with nice eating spots and cobbled streets. We only had an hour and a half before the next bus so we ran around eating llama empanadas and heading up the hills behind the town for a better view. Incredible thunder and lightening shook the entire village at times, although we were lucky it did not rain. Walking around the streets of Tilcara reminded me of Nepal, with narrow dirt tracks and small dirt shacks. A nice change from the big cities!
We again hit the minimercardo to get food for the bus ride and also dinner for the night. We decided to head to the HI Hostel upon arriving in Humahuaca, which is where I knew Ken would be. The hostel was ages from the bus stop as we walked through narrow dirt paths in the rural areas, full of stray dogs, donkeys and the odd local. We arrived and prepared dinner, later meeting Ken and a Saffa who was with him. The girls and I decided to head to Iruya the next day, which we had all heard (randomly from the same French couple I met at Puerte de Inca) was amazing and well worth the trip. To keep moving, we decided to get the morning bus out there, approximately three hours, spend a few hours there and then return that afternoon, to then board a bus to the border of Bolivia at La Quica - more than 9 hours on the bus.
The drive up to Iruya was incredible! It was the roughest bus ride I have been on to date, weaving its way through very rural country side, over streams and rivers and along banks with very high drop offs. The windy corners were so sharp that the outside wheel of the bus would barely complete each turn, probably flicking stones over the edge. We climbed up to 4000m before dropping down into the valley. Iruya came into sight, chiefly a large yellow church perched on the side of the hill above the river. Some stupid woman on the bus had a go at me (at least I think she was) for taking lots of photos out of the open window. She was pretty rude, at some stage on the journy climbing onto my seat and leaning out of my window to take photos, even though I had earlier helped her to open hers.
We were lucky enough to arrive on the day the town was celebrating the 250th year of the towns foundation, so there were a few ceremonies and speeches etc. The town comprises several steep streets to explore and cute kids running around. The people up north certainly look a lot more native and Bolivian than anyone we have seen in Argentina. We had lunch in a small hole in the wall place, in part to kill time before the bus which was in a few hours time. We tried llama stew, lamb stew and some more empanadas. Llama was pretty darn good really, and I am sure it won´t be the last time I eat it.
The ride back to Humahuaca was more dramatic than the way in, as the sun was not directly in our faces and the clouds were white and puffy, providing great photo ops. We arrived back in Humahuaca in time to book a bus for half an hours time, leaving us just enough time to run around the town for a few photos and to get some food for the 3 hour bus ride up to La Quica.
Our bus arrived half an hour late and we were told it was full, or at least no seats. We had to go so we boarded the bus and took positions on the floor! Fortunately, we would only be on the floor, or standing, for a hour or so until some people got off. We had been a bit worried about lack of accommodation in La Quica given an annual festival was on for the past 9 days, culminating in this weekend. After arriving at at around 1030, we found a couple of cheap rooms (in separate places due to demand) and settled in. We made a walk that night to the square to see what all the festivities were all about. The night life was pretty interesting, mainly one strip of food stalls and ´discos´ in corrugated iron shacks. We did a couple of laps, stopping for beer and sausages every now and again, and joined the other spectators watching the dancing (or lack of). Lot of young people walking around looking pretty wasted. We got propositioned by one old man who was off his face, asking if we liked to dance etc and if Ruth was my wife. We pretended we were to keep him away from Ruth, but he suggested the four of us have a sort of private dance party or something, as he did some crazy sexual ´car wash´spanking type dance. Rather funny!
The next morning we would return to see the bartering market in full swing before heading to Bolivia. I´m looking forward to getting to a new country!
I met an American chap, Ken, on the bus while were having a stop at a small cafateria which had 1 peso empanadas and pizza (cheapest yet). He works for Nature Magazine in America and had a lot of good ideas about travelling North West Argentina. Shortly before arriving in Salta the bus broke down, but a mini van quickly arrived for us to transfer over to. We watched the luggage being pulled out of the holds onto the road before being loaded onto the roof. Neither Ken or I saw our bags on the road and were told they were already up on the roof, but we had our doubts. Our suspicions were confirmed when we arrived in Salta without our bags! We jumped back in the mini van with the driver and headed back to the bus to collect our bags, which were in a hold that had not been emptied.
Finally with our bags, Ken and I made our way around a few hostels settling for a nice one near San Martin park. I did a bit of hand washing and headed up the gondola with Ken to get a good view of the city. Salta is surprisingly large, but doesn´t really seem to have a lot to do, so we both checked out tickets for further north. I had planned to head up north before coming back down a bit half way to meet a connection to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile to start the salt flats. I decided to sleep on it because they needed a booking from Salta for buses that only run twice a week. I am increasingly weary or booking anything more than a day in advance given plans tend to change quite a lot. Ken and I did a circuit of the most significant buildings around Plaza 9 de Julio and got some money out at the ATM, which had a line the longest I have seen to get money out. We found a local burger joint for a sit down meal with the locals. Ken managed to almost put a toothpick through his lip as he bit into his burger!! We left and took some night shots of the Plaza.
Upon returning to the hostel, I met two girls from Canada who had come down from Bolivia. After talking to them for a bit and going down stairs to a nice ice cream palour, I decided against going to San Pedro de Atacama (given the bus ticket was 180 pesos) and instead fast track it up north and cross the border at La Quicas.
Ken and I headed off to the bus station the next morning for a bus up north. Ken was making his way up to far north to Humahuaca and make his way back down stopping at several towns. I decided I would go to Humahuaca too, but stopping several times en route as the towns didn´t seem to warrant any more than an hour. Upon board the bus, I met Ruth and Rhake, who I had met previously in Uruguay and more recently in Puerto Natalas. They were evidently still on the gringo trail heading up the border of Bolivia that day. I convinced them that there was plenty to see on the way so they joined me on my flying trip of the north west towards bolivia.
We said goodbye to Ken at Juyjuy, where the tree of us would transfer to a smaller bus to Pumamarca, which is famous for the moutain of seven colours. The buses really are getting cheap now, with the hour and a half journey costing only 6 pesos! I passed time on the bus talking to a local chap. Looking at him I knew he was either gay or a hairdresser (long nails, pony tail with pink clip etc), and it turned out he was indeed a hairdresser. I got some good conversation practice in and learned a few new words.
Arriving in Pumamarca was pretty amazing. It is a very small town but it sits below the mountain which has distinct bands of colours. Before setting off on our walks to various miradors, we figured out the bus time to the next town, Tilcara, which left in 2 hours. We decided to head to Tilcara en route to Humahuaca, to cover 4 towns in one day! The walk around Pumamarca was incredible, although very windy at times. The mountains were simply stunning and not many tourists around. We took all the photos we needed and stocked up on a bit of food for the next bus ride to Tilcara, which was only 2 pesos!
Tilcara is a pretty small sleepy town, which attracts more Argentinan tourists than foreigners. It is a well presented town with nice eating spots and cobbled streets. We only had an hour and a half before the next bus so we ran around eating llama empanadas and heading up the hills behind the town for a better view. Incredible thunder and lightening shook the entire village at times, although we were lucky it did not rain. Walking around the streets of Tilcara reminded me of Nepal, with narrow dirt tracks and small dirt shacks. A nice change from the big cities!
We again hit the minimercardo to get food for the bus ride and also dinner for the night. We decided to head to the HI Hostel upon arriving in Humahuaca, which is where I knew Ken would be. The hostel was ages from the bus stop as we walked through narrow dirt paths in the rural areas, full of stray dogs, donkeys and the odd local. We arrived and prepared dinner, later meeting Ken and a Saffa who was with him. The girls and I decided to head to Iruya the next day, which we had all heard (randomly from the same French couple I met at Puerte de Inca) was amazing and well worth the trip. To keep moving, we decided to get the morning bus out there, approximately three hours, spend a few hours there and then return that afternoon, to then board a bus to the border of Bolivia at La Quica - more than 9 hours on the bus.
The drive up to Iruya was incredible! It was the roughest bus ride I have been on to date, weaving its way through very rural country side, over streams and rivers and along banks with very high drop offs. The windy corners were so sharp that the outside wheel of the bus would barely complete each turn, probably flicking stones over the edge. We climbed up to 4000m before dropping down into the valley. Iruya came into sight, chiefly a large yellow church perched on the side of the hill above the river. Some stupid woman on the bus had a go at me (at least I think she was) for taking lots of photos out of the open window. She was pretty rude, at some stage on the journy climbing onto my seat and leaning out of my window to take photos, even though I had earlier helped her to open hers.
We were lucky enough to arrive on the day the town was celebrating the 250th year of the towns foundation, so there were a few ceremonies and speeches etc. The town comprises several steep streets to explore and cute kids running around. The people up north certainly look a lot more native and Bolivian than anyone we have seen in Argentina. We had lunch in a small hole in the wall place, in part to kill time before the bus which was in a few hours time. We tried llama stew, lamb stew and some more empanadas. Llama was pretty darn good really, and I am sure it won´t be the last time I eat it.
The ride back to Humahuaca was more dramatic than the way in, as the sun was not directly in our faces and the clouds were white and puffy, providing great photo ops. We arrived back in Humahuaca in time to book a bus for half an hours time, leaving us just enough time to run around the town for a few photos and to get some food for the 3 hour bus ride up to La Quica.
Our bus arrived half an hour late and we were told it was full, or at least no seats. We had to go so we boarded the bus and took positions on the floor! Fortunately, we would only be on the floor, or standing, for a hour or so until some people got off. We had been a bit worried about lack of accommodation in La Quica given an annual festival was on for the past 9 days, culminating in this weekend. After arriving at at around 1030, we found a couple of cheap rooms (in separate places due to demand) and settled in. We made a walk that night to the square to see what all the festivities were all about. The night life was pretty interesting, mainly one strip of food stalls and ´discos´ in corrugated iron shacks. We did a couple of laps, stopping for beer and sausages every now and again, and joined the other spectators watching the dancing (or lack of). Lot of young people walking around looking pretty wasted. We got propositioned by one old man who was off his face, asking if we liked to dance etc and if Ruth was my wife. We pretended we were to keep him away from Ruth, but he suggested the four of us have a sort of private dance party or something, as he did some crazy sexual ´car wash´spanking type dance. Rather funny!
The next morning we would return to see the bartering market in full swing before heading to Bolivia. I´m looking forward to getting to a new country!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Mendoza to Cafayete - October 15 to 22
After flying into Buenos Aires and spending a few days hobbling around the major attractions a second time with Susan for a few days, I decided it was time to get back into action and progress my trip. I have been looking forward to getting into Central and Northern Argentina and experiencing scenery that is totally different to New Zealand. While I really enjoyed Patagonia very much, the landscape of Mendoza and further north looks amazing with incredible contrasts of red rocks, green fields and blue skies.
My bus trip from BA could not have gone better. I opted for a semi cama bus to save on the pesos so wasn´t expecting a whole lot but I understood from the chap at the counter we would get fed so that was a bonus. We got a nice hot mean of mashed potatoe with a chicken melanase, salad and a few bread sticks, as well as coke and vino. The bus also screened a great move, Norbit, which is pretty much a Big Mammas House jobbie with Eddie Murphy playing a number of character, but it was in English and very entertaining. They beauty of traveling in off season is that even with a semi cama bus one is invariably guaranteed a free seat next adjacent (or one can simply change seats to achieve this) so sleeping is not that bad. I got a few hours sleep after the movie stopped and pulled into Mendoza around 1020.
After a little walking around in circles and asking taxi drivers for directions, I found the hostel close to the hostel and set about relaxing in the court yard area with a coffee. I met an Aussie couple and after a bit of talking and a very cold dip in the pool, I was joining them for a half day wine tour covering 2 vineyards, an olive oil factory and a chocolate factory. For 45 pesos (22 nzd) which is pretty good value considering the distance to the vineyards and the 4 hours we would spend out and about.
We first visted a very large vineyard, Wineret, completing a pretty extensive tour and a wine tasting. This vineyard had the 4th largest barrel in Argentina and the largest currently in use, some 445hlitres (44,000 litres) full of wine! We next visited a different style of vineyard on the other side of the town, renowned for being one of only organic vineyard in Mendoza so it was interesting to see the different style of production and growing methods. The grap vines, despite being some 40 years old, stand only a couple of feet tall. Apparently this is to ensure a great concentration of foliage closer to the grown which increases exposure to nutrients and minerals as well as insects and companion planting which are essential in organic vineyards given there is no use of artificial chemicals.
We or final stop in the immediate areas of Maipu was an olive oil factory, Laur. The smell even upon entering the front gates was delicious! We were shown around the orchard and were told about the different types of olives and the production process. I didn´t know this but green olives and black olives come from the same tree but are just picked at a different time, the black olives being more ripe. Also, for an olive oil to be classes as virgin, the acidity content has to be less than 1%, and even less for extra virgin. Black olives have a higher acidity and are thus only used (by this place at least) for eating. After a tour though the factory and a great deal of restraint exercised around the large vats of olives awaiting the press, we headed to the tasting room where breads and oils were waiting with sun dried tomato. Super stuff!
I decided to head back out to Maipu the next day to complete another circuit, but this time by bike. My wine tour of the Maipu region was amazing...truly a wonderful afternoon out. I hired a bike for the afternoon and rode myself around 4 vineyards and another chocolate shop. Given I had visited the olive oil factory the day before, I skipped that on the bike. My first vineyard, or bodega, was one of the larger ones and also had a museum attached which was very interesting. I had the misfortune of being grouped with an older couple from the Napa Valley in California, which was both amusing and tiring and constantly reminded me why so many Americans are disliked outside their own borders. The old chap took a liking to the sweet girl giving the tour, making terrible jokes, taking photos of her name badge, photos of himself with her and even giving her a gangster like closed fist high five sort of thing when he ´got a connection´ with the language barrier. The tour dragged on for ages on account of his many questions and explanations about what happens back home!!
I had a packed lunch at the museum and then headed down the very rural roads on the bike, stopping in at other bodegas en route. I had 4 tasting and tours at various vineyards and learned a lot about the local wines and the process to make them (wines in general). The local wine in a malbec which seems to be a lot more fruity (plum, berries etc) than say a Cabernet sauvignon and less peppery so is pretty nice. I finished the tour by going to the chocolate factory which makes chocolate, liquors, some chutneys and dulce delece (a caramel spread popular over here). A group of older people from Mendoza also on the tour kindly invited me to join them at the testing tables, which was great because it gave all of us a better selection to share around and an opportunity for me to try a bit of Spanish.
Upon arriving back at the hire place there were other tourists hanging around drinking wine in the front yard, provided by the hire chap, Mr Hugo. Mr Hugo kept bringing out bottles and bottles of wine for ages!! It was fantastic. He did, however, have a rather disturbing talking parrot in the tree which not only said hello etc but also laughed along with us when a joke was cracked, in a sort of ´chucky wants to play´ kind of way. Mr Hugo then took us all to the bus stop and paid for our bus ride back into Mendoza, about 45 minutes away. I spent the next day just pottering around the hostel, relaxing by the pool and back yard so very nice. I also did a walk with a chap from Montana around the central area. It is a nice place and pretty relaxed, although it was a tiring walk getting up the main view point in the city, requring one to walk a full completing around the zoo at the base of the mountain.
After hearing the Montana chap´s idea about heading into the Andes near the Argentina-Chile border, I decided to do a similar thing, although a day earlier. I made a reservation for a hostel at Los Cuevas, which is a little mountain village at 3200m. The bus ride was spectacular, heading into the mountains on a terrific road similar to Milford sound, with tunnels and all. When I arrived at the Hostel Los Cuevas, it was closed for the season! So much for a reservation and small deposit. It worked out well because I got on the bus and headed back down the hill about 15km to Puertas de Inca (literally bridge of Inca, or Inca Bridge), which is a small settlement in the middle of nowhere offering very little except the historic Inca Bridge and the sale or small rocks! It also is, more importantly for me, the launching pad for trips to Aconcagua, which is the highest mountain outside of the Himalayas. I found a very basic hostel, which was very cute and had everything I needed. My foot was pretty sore so I didnt´get out much that day so relaxed with my book.
That night I met an American chap, Bill, and shared a box or wine (yep, box, not bottle!). The hostel owners were off the next day so just gave us keys to the place but no idea when they were to return. I headed up to the park the next morning, getting a ride up the 2km stretch with a Dutch couple which was good. I spent the day walking around with not much pain which was good, having lunch at a superb lookout spot an hour or so off the tourist route, getting sun burned in the process given I had my top off relaxing. Spectacular indeed! We had a great night in the hostel with an old French Canadian couple and a young angry French guy. The older couple had a lot to drink and after a while the man, Pierre (obviously), got onto politics, which was pretty interesting given Bill was a politics major from New York. It was classic when the young French guy and the Pierre would discuss something in French in a heated fashion, ending with Pierre saying ´he is calling me stupid, but that´s okay´! The young French chap had a bottle of chocolate with banana liquore from the same chocolate shop I had visited, which we polished off.
Our dorm beds, for whatever reason, seemed to generate a lot of static electricity. Just lying on top reading I could feel my hairs on my arms standing up the crackle of the generation occuring as I rolled over to get comfortable. It was a bit of a problem getting down of the bunks, where had metal frames. At nights, when I flicked my headlamp off after reading, just rolling around in my bed would produce enough static discharges to create quite a bit of light. Pretty weird indeed! I managed to off-load my large book to Bill, which lightened my load considerably!
The next morning we were all having coffee with the older french chap looking pretty worse for wear. Pierre would, on a number of occasions, excuse himself from the table to have a loud talk on the big white phone, returning to the table looking even worse than before haha. Later that morning I boarded my bus the next day with Bill heading back to Mendoza. We never did meet the guy from Montana (assumed he would end up at our hostel given it was the only inexpensive option open). Bill, was off to Bariloche in the south (where I went earlier) and I decided to go straight up north that afternoon. We arrived at the bus station around 4 and both got tickets out that evening, mine leaving at 5pm so no great wait around but enough time to get dinner. I bought a ticket to Tucuman around 15 hours north of Mendoza.
Not being in the mood for big cities, when I arrived at the bus station in Tucuman around 8am, I bought an outbound ticket to Cafayate, which is 5 hours north west of Tucuman. Lots of bus hours but I have arrived in Cafayate with 23 hours on the bus with around 4 hours break. I almost missed my bus from Tucuman because their time seems to be an hour faster than everywhere else, cause now in Cafayate the time is the same as it was in Mendoza! Had I not returned to the bus station an hour earlier to check my emails, I would have missed it for sure.
The journey from Tucuman to Cafayete was spectacular, climbing high into the hills on a narrow windy road. On most of the corners, the bus would start the corner by swinging as far over onto the other side as possible before putting full steering lock on just to make it around in one hit! An hour or so out from Cafayete, more and more vineyards (bodegas) started popping up and the hills started to take on multiple colours. A nice welcome into the town. I settled into my hostel and made a trip to the super market for dinner supplies and food for my cycle ride into the valley the next morning.
A chap from Paraguay who was sharing my dorm room was keen to join me on the bike ride. To avoid the hot afternoon sun, we took the hostel owner recommendation to get the first bus out towards Salta, leaving Cafayete at 5am! Alarms set we headed to bed. I awoke the next morning and collected my food from the fridge and packed the maintenance kit into my bag. Bill, the American chap from Aconcagua had stayed at a different hostel and was not given any spare tyres or anything, which turned out to be quite a problem when he got a puncture 10km into the 50km ride, so I was relieved he had the right gear.
We piled our bikes into the luggage holds of the bus and set off. We reached the drop off point at the Devil´s Throat after around 45 minutes. We certainly avoided the hot sun, given we had wait around at the road side for over an hour just for the sun to come up! It was a pretty cloudy start to the day which didn´t reveal the full colours of the rock, however it did burn off around half way into the ride. I had forgotten how hard it is to ride 50km on a mountain bike with big knobby tyres, something I was reminded of when a young chap effortlessly sped past me on a road bike. It was a great day out, and has left the rest of the afternoon to update my blog and photo etc. I had tossed up the idea of heading to Salta this afternoon but given my bus travels the last few days I decided to stay around and head off first thing in the morning.
My bus trip from BA could not have gone better. I opted for a semi cama bus to save on the pesos so wasn´t expecting a whole lot but I understood from the chap at the counter we would get fed so that was a bonus. We got a nice hot mean of mashed potatoe with a chicken melanase, salad and a few bread sticks, as well as coke and vino. The bus also screened a great move, Norbit, which is pretty much a Big Mammas House jobbie with Eddie Murphy playing a number of character, but it was in English and very entertaining. They beauty of traveling in off season is that even with a semi cama bus one is invariably guaranteed a free seat next adjacent (or one can simply change seats to achieve this) so sleeping is not that bad. I got a few hours sleep after the movie stopped and pulled into Mendoza around 1020.
After a little walking around in circles and asking taxi drivers for directions, I found the hostel close to the hostel and set about relaxing in the court yard area with a coffee. I met an Aussie couple and after a bit of talking and a very cold dip in the pool, I was joining them for a half day wine tour covering 2 vineyards, an olive oil factory and a chocolate factory. For 45 pesos (22 nzd) which is pretty good value considering the distance to the vineyards and the 4 hours we would spend out and about.
We first visted a very large vineyard, Wineret, completing a pretty extensive tour and a wine tasting. This vineyard had the 4th largest barrel in Argentina and the largest currently in use, some 445hlitres (44,000 litres) full of wine! We next visited a different style of vineyard on the other side of the town, renowned for being one of only organic vineyard in Mendoza so it was interesting to see the different style of production and growing methods. The grap vines, despite being some 40 years old, stand only a couple of feet tall. Apparently this is to ensure a great concentration of foliage closer to the grown which increases exposure to nutrients and minerals as well as insects and companion planting which are essential in organic vineyards given there is no use of artificial chemicals.
We or final stop in the immediate areas of Maipu was an olive oil factory, Laur. The smell even upon entering the front gates was delicious! We were shown around the orchard and were told about the different types of olives and the production process. I didn´t know this but green olives and black olives come from the same tree but are just picked at a different time, the black olives being more ripe. Also, for an olive oil to be classes as virgin, the acidity content has to be less than 1%, and even less for extra virgin. Black olives have a higher acidity and are thus only used (by this place at least) for eating. After a tour though the factory and a great deal of restraint exercised around the large vats of olives awaiting the press, we headed to the tasting room where breads and oils were waiting with sun dried tomato. Super stuff!
I decided to head back out to Maipu the next day to complete another circuit, but this time by bike. My wine tour of the Maipu region was amazing...truly a wonderful afternoon out. I hired a bike for the afternoon and rode myself around 4 vineyards and another chocolate shop. Given I had visited the olive oil factory the day before, I skipped that on the bike. My first vineyard, or bodega, was one of the larger ones and also had a museum attached which was very interesting. I had the misfortune of being grouped with an older couple from the Napa Valley in California, which was both amusing and tiring and constantly reminded me why so many Americans are disliked outside their own borders. The old chap took a liking to the sweet girl giving the tour, making terrible jokes, taking photos of her name badge, photos of himself with her and even giving her a gangster like closed fist high five sort of thing when he ´got a connection´ with the language barrier. The tour dragged on for ages on account of his many questions and explanations about what happens back home!!
I had a packed lunch at the museum and then headed down the very rural roads on the bike, stopping in at other bodegas en route. I had 4 tasting and tours at various vineyards and learned a lot about the local wines and the process to make them (wines in general). The local wine in a malbec which seems to be a lot more fruity (plum, berries etc) than say a Cabernet sauvignon and less peppery so is pretty nice. I finished the tour by going to the chocolate factory which makes chocolate, liquors, some chutneys and dulce delece (a caramel spread popular over here). A group of older people from Mendoza also on the tour kindly invited me to join them at the testing tables, which was great because it gave all of us a better selection to share around and an opportunity for me to try a bit of Spanish.
Upon arriving back at the hire place there were other tourists hanging around drinking wine in the front yard, provided by the hire chap, Mr Hugo. Mr Hugo kept bringing out bottles and bottles of wine for ages!! It was fantastic. He did, however, have a rather disturbing talking parrot in the tree which not only said hello etc but also laughed along with us when a joke was cracked, in a sort of ´chucky wants to play´ kind of way. Mr Hugo then took us all to the bus stop and paid for our bus ride back into Mendoza, about 45 minutes away. I spent the next day just pottering around the hostel, relaxing by the pool and back yard so very nice. I also did a walk with a chap from Montana around the central area. It is a nice place and pretty relaxed, although it was a tiring walk getting up the main view point in the city, requring one to walk a full completing around the zoo at the base of the mountain.
After hearing the Montana chap´s idea about heading into the Andes near the Argentina-Chile border, I decided to do a similar thing, although a day earlier. I made a reservation for a hostel at Los Cuevas, which is a little mountain village at 3200m. The bus ride was spectacular, heading into the mountains on a terrific road similar to Milford sound, with tunnels and all. When I arrived at the Hostel Los Cuevas, it was closed for the season! So much for a reservation and small deposit. It worked out well because I got on the bus and headed back down the hill about 15km to Puertas de Inca (literally bridge of Inca, or Inca Bridge), which is a small settlement in the middle of nowhere offering very little except the historic Inca Bridge and the sale or small rocks! It also is, more importantly for me, the launching pad for trips to Aconcagua, which is the highest mountain outside of the Himalayas. I found a very basic hostel, which was very cute and had everything I needed. My foot was pretty sore so I didnt´get out much that day so relaxed with my book.
That night I met an American chap, Bill, and shared a box or wine (yep, box, not bottle!). The hostel owners were off the next day so just gave us keys to the place but no idea when they were to return. I headed up to the park the next morning, getting a ride up the 2km stretch with a Dutch couple which was good. I spent the day walking around with not much pain which was good, having lunch at a superb lookout spot an hour or so off the tourist route, getting sun burned in the process given I had my top off relaxing. Spectacular indeed! We had a great night in the hostel with an old French Canadian couple and a young angry French guy. The older couple had a lot to drink and after a while the man, Pierre (obviously), got onto politics, which was pretty interesting given Bill was a politics major from New York. It was classic when the young French guy and the Pierre would discuss something in French in a heated fashion, ending with Pierre saying ´he is calling me stupid, but that´s okay´! The young French chap had a bottle of chocolate with banana liquore from the same chocolate shop I had visited, which we polished off.
Our dorm beds, for whatever reason, seemed to generate a lot of static electricity. Just lying on top reading I could feel my hairs on my arms standing up the crackle of the generation occuring as I rolled over to get comfortable. It was a bit of a problem getting down of the bunks, where had metal frames. At nights, when I flicked my headlamp off after reading, just rolling around in my bed would produce enough static discharges to create quite a bit of light. Pretty weird indeed! I managed to off-load my large book to Bill, which lightened my load considerably!
The next morning we were all having coffee with the older french chap looking pretty worse for wear. Pierre would, on a number of occasions, excuse himself from the table to have a loud talk on the big white phone, returning to the table looking even worse than before haha. Later that morning I boarded my bus the next day with Bill heading back to Mendoza. We never did meet the guy from Montana (assumed he would end up at our hostel given it was the only inexpensive option open). Bill, was off to Bariloche in the south (where I went earlier) and I decided to go straight up north that afternoon. We arrived at the bus station around 4 and both got tickets out that evening, mine leaving at 5pm so no great wait around but enough time to get dinner. I bought a ticket to Tucuman around 15 hours north of Mendoza.
Not being in the mood for big cities, when I arrived at the bus station in Tucuman around 8am, I bought an outbound ticket to Cafayate, which is 5 hours north west of Tucuman. Lots of bus hours but I have arrived in Cafayate with 23 hours on the bus with around 4 hours break. I almost missed my bus from Tucuman because their time seems to be an hour faster than everywhere else, cause now in Cafayate the time is the same as it was in Mendoza! Had I not returned to the bus station an hour earlier to check my emails, I would have missed it for sure.
The journey from Tucuman to Cafayete was spectacular, climbing high into the hills on a narrow windy road. On most of the corners, the bus would start the corner by swinging as far over onto the other side as possible before putting full steering lock on just to make it around in one hit! An hour or so out from Cafayete, more and more vineyards (bodegas) started popping up and the hills started to take on multiple colours. A nice welcome into the town. I settled into my hostel and made a trip to the super market for dinner supplies and food for my cycle ride into the valley the next morning.
A chap from Paraguay who was sharing my dorm room was keen to join me on the bike ride. To avoid the hot afternoon sun, we took the hostel owner recommendation to get the first bus out towards Salta, leaving Cafayete at 5am! Alarms set we headed to bed. I awoke the next morning and collected my food from the fridge and packed the maintenance kit into my bag. Bill, the American chap from Aconcagua had stayed at a different hostel and was not given any spare tyres or anything, which turned out to be quite a problem when he got a puncture 10km into the 50km ride, so I was relieved he had the right gear.
We piled our bikes into the luggage holds of the bus and set off. We reached the drop off point at the Devil´s Throat after around 45 minutes. We certainly avoided the hot sun, given we had wait around at the road side for over an hour just for the sun to come up! It was a pretty cloudy start to the day which didn´t reveal the full colours of the rock, however it did burn off around half way into the ride. I had forgotten how hard it is to ride 50km on a mountain bike with big knobby tyres, something I was reminded of when a young chap effortlessly sped past me on a road bike. It was a great day out, and has left the rest of the afternoon to update my blog and photo etc. I had tossed up the idea of heading to Salta this afternoon but given my bus travels the last few days I decided to stay around and head off first thing in the morning.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Ushuaia
Our arrival into Ushuaia was pretty spectacular, with mountains around all sides of the Harbour. We were taken to our hostel by the waiting touts which worked out well. Upon arriving at the hostel I started yarning to a guy whom I had met on the bus in El Calafate, followed by a trip down to the supermarket with a Dutch couple to get stocked for a few days.
The next morning we headed into town to check out prices of tours and to confirm Susan´s ticket with LADE airways for the following day´s flight to BA. Given my foot and the much talk around the hostel about Tierra del Fuego trekking being a bit average and expensive, I decided I would enquire about plane prices also. The tickets are reputed to be in the order of 500 pesos for the 4 hours flight (around 250 NZD), which compare well to the 3 buses required to get to BA at around 450 pesos and 60+ hours! The chap at the LADE counter looked puzzled that Susan would confirm the flight a day before despite the ticket saying so...turns out that confirmation is required a mere few hours before the flight departs, attesting to the unreliable reputation of the airline! The computer was down so we had to return later....
In the mean time we scouted out prices for boat trips in the Beagel Channel and to the Les Eclaireurs lighthouse. We did the rounds of all the tours offering similar 3 hour tours on small 12 person boats (not the huge cats bobbing around) for around the same price of 150 pesos and settled for the company with chilled out operators offering unlimited draft beer on board! A great call!
We did some window shopping in the outdoors shops before returning to LADE. It turned out that Susan´s flight for the following day had one seat left, so on the spot I pulled out the credit card and snatched it up before anyone else got it. It was a sensible decision which kick started my travels north a lot and saved a whole lot of time and effort with the buses.
After a spot of lunch back at the hostel, we made our way back down to the wharf to board our trusty vessel for our tour. Despite the season being too early for penguins, we had other bird life and sea lions to look forward to, not to mention terrific sea views back towards Ushuaia and the surrounding mountains. It was obvious after a few minutes that the best way to see the town is from boat in the harbour, with mountains all around and the airport jutting out into the water on what appears to be a man-made island. The afternoon was spent taking photos of the wildlife, the lighthouse and a short trek on an island in the harbour originally inhabited by indigenous people. We returned to town slightly tired and a little merry after the wines we consumed with a young Scottish couple on the boat.
Ushuaia is pretty low key at night, although there are some great all you can eat restaurants which were a little beyond my budget. We settled for a nice quiet night in the hostel cooking, drinking and being entertained by a singer from Isreal and an eccentric Irish chap singing ´Johnny, Johnny Johnny´in French, which apparently is about a woman pleading with her husband to spank her. Totally hilarious!
The next morning we packed up and headed up the nearby skifield for a short walk into the mountains before the 4pm flight. Practically the entire hostel was on the same flight, which only leaves on Thursdays, Fridays and Mondays. There was a little unrest at the hostel because apparently people had been told that if they wanted to wait at the hostel until the flight a charge of half the room rate would be required. This is pretty terrible and unheard of and people were talking about this plenty. Susan and I started to prepare our lunch and everyone else joined...eventually the hostel owners came around because there were so many of us and they didn´t want to cause any upset – probably a bit late.
Our flight confirmed 2 hours before departure and the hostel emptied out into taxis. We were all very aware of the 15kg luggage limit so were transferring the contents of the packs around. Andrew, the English guy I met in El Calafate, was very worried and had put on two pairs of jeans, a singlet, 2 jerseys and a big fleece - he looked very uncomfortable walking around the airport on what was a pretty warm day!! We weighed our bags at the check-in, mine coming to 14.9kg so pretty good guessing, although I thought it was less. In the end LADE didn´t seem to mind as some of our group checked in bags around 21 kgs!
We left only 30 minutes late on an old Fokker F28 from the mid sixties. The interior was like something out of a Knight Rider movie but it was comfortable enough and we actually got a few reasonable meals. We had an exciting but smooth flight to BA with only one stop at Commodoro Rivadavia. The landing at Commodoro Rivadavia was pretty exciting, with the approach more like that of a Cessna at Ardmore. The pilot joined the runway downwind and undertook a sharp bank of what must have been about 35 degrees completing the near 180 degree turn to level the wings and cut the engines just before touch down!!! It was quite impressive!!
The flight into BA was awesome, with impressive night views as we landed at the domestic airport close to the city. A group of us boarded a local bus from the terminal into town, which is only 4kms away. Susan and I had the BA Stop Hostel booked, which is where I stayed first time into BA. The others hadn´t made a booking and, due to the Argentina vs Uruguay football match, did not get a bed there. They did however find a place down the road, where Susan and I joined them for too much box wine and beer later than night, finally retiring to the hostel around 4am.
The next morning we headed into town to check out prices of tours and to confirm Susan´s ticket with LADE airways for the following day´s flight to BA. Given my foot and the much talk around the hostel about Tierra del Fuego trekking being a bit average and expensive, I decided I would enquire about plane prices also. The tickets are reputed to be in the order of 500 pesos for the 4 hours flight (around 250 NZD), which compare well to the 3 buses required to get to BA at around 450 pesos and 60+ hours! The chap at the LADE counter looked puzzled that Susan would confirm the flight a day before despite the ticket saying so...turns out that confirmation is required a mere few hours before the flight departs, attesting to the unreliable reputation of the airline! The computer was down so we had to return later....
In the mean time we scouted out prices for boat trips in the Beagel Channel and to the Les Eclaireurs lighthouse. We did the rounds of all the tours offering similar 3 hour tours on small 12 person boats (not the huge cats bobbing around) for around the same price of 150 pesos and settled for the company with chilled out operators offering unlimited draft beer on board! A great call!
We did some window shopping in the outdoors shops before returning to LADE. It turned out that Susan´s flight for the following day had one seat left, so on the spot I pulled out the credit card and snatched it up before anyone else got it. It was a sensible decision which kick started my travels north a lot and saved a whole lot of time and effort with the buses.
After a spot of lunch back at the hostel, we made our way back down to the wharf to board our trusty vessel for our tour. Despite the season being too early for penguins, we had other bird life and sea lions to look forward to, not to mention terrific sea views back towards Ushuaia and the surrounding mountains. It was obvious after a few minutes that the best way to see the town is from boat in the harbour, with mountains all around and the airport jutting out into the water on what appears to be a man-made island. The afternoon was spent taking photos of the wildlife, the lighthouse and a short trek on an island in the harbour originally inhabited by indigenous people. We returned to town slightly tired and a little merry after the wines we consumed with a young Scottish couple on the boat.
Ushuaia is pretty low key at night, although there are some great all you can eat restaurants which were a little beyond my budget. We settled for a nice quiet night in the hostel cooking, drinking and being entertained by a singer from Isreal and an eccentric Irish chap singing ´Johnny, Johnny Johnny´in French, which apparently is about a woman pleading with her husband to spank her. Totally hilarious!
The next morning we packed up and headed up the nearby skifield for a short walk into the mountains before the 4pm flight. Practically the entire hostel was on the same flight, which only leaves on Thursdays, Fridays and Mondays. There was a little unrest at the hostel because apparently people had been told that if they wanted to wait at the hostel until the flight a charge of half the room rate would be required. This is pretty terrible and unheard of and people were talking about this plenty. Susan and I started to prepare our lunch and everyone else joined...eventually the hostel owners came around because there were so many of us and they didn´t want to cause any upset – probably a bit late.
Our flight confirmed 2 hours before departure and the hostel emptied out into taxis. We were all very aware of the 15kg luggage limit so were transferring the contents of the packs around. Andrew, the English guy I met in El Calafate, was very worried and had put on two pairs of jeans, a singlet, 2 jerseys and a big fleece - he looked very uncomfortable walking around the airport on what was a pretty warm day!! We weighed our bags at the check-in, mine coming to 14.9kg so pretty good guessing, although I thought it was less. In the end LADE didn´t seem to mind as some of our group checked in bags around 21 kgs!
We left only 30 minutes late on an old Fokker F28 from the mid sixties. The interior was like something out of a Knight Rider movie but it was comfortable enough and we actually got a few reasonable meals. We had an exciting but smooth flight to BA with only one stop at Commodoro Rivadavia. The landing at Commodoro Rivadavia was pretty exciting, with the approach more like that of a Cessna at Ardmore. The pilot joined the runway downwind and undertook a sharp bank of what must have been about 35 degrees completing the near 180 degree turn to level the wings and cut the engines just before touch down!!! It was quite impressive!!
The flight into BA was awesome, with impressive night views as we landed at the domestic airport close to the city. A group of us boarded a local bus from the terminal into town, which is only 4kms away. Susan and I had the BA Stop Hostel booked, which is where I stayed first time into BA. The others hadn´t made a booking and, due to the Argentina vs Uruguay football match, did not get a bed there. They did however find a place down the road, where Susan and I joined them for too much box wine and beer later than night, finally retiring to the hostel around 4am.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Torres Del Paine - Puerto Natalas (Chile) - September 30 to October 8
--- Apologies in advance for any errors, I am more concerned about getting behind that having everything perfectly accurate ---
As usually happens, any bus ride or flight begins with reuniting within someone from a previous hostel or bus ride. I bumped into Susan who I had met at the 41 Below Hostel in Bariloche. I was aware she was on a similar schedule to me but was a couple of days behind, but I guess my layup day in El Calafate allowed her to catch up. She as travelling with a chap from Italy, Ivan, who I would later get to know better. The bus to Puerto Natalas, the launching platform for the Parque Nacionales Torres Del Paine, is only about 4 or 5 hours from El Calafate, crossing over into Chile an hour or so from Puerto Natalas. The scenery was flat, brown, dusty and seemingly typical or all the scenery even a few kms away from the Andes mountains but were were treated to flamingos and a few ostrich type birds (I must find their proper name) which was a little exciting. We crossed the boarder into Chile and headed into Puerto Natalas.
Jacqui had said the town was pretty cute, situated on a nice lake and pretty laid back. I took her advice and did not arrange any accommodation as I had her assurances that were would be mobbed by desperate people at the bus stop wanting to rent out a room in their guest house: she was not wrong! We first headed to the Erratic Rock, which my previous hostel had recommended and also featured in a guide Susan was carrying. Nobody was around and after 5 minutes of waiting and calling out we decided to move on to the first guesthouse in the stack of pamphlets. Pretty terrible and not exactly homely and for 5000 pesos (around 15 dollars) we moved on pretty quickly hoping that we could do better. After wandering the streets with our backpacks, Susan, I and Ivan were approached by a couple of ladies in a van who we recognised from the bus stop. They offered to give us a ride to their house for a look so we pile on in. Hostel Paulette turned out to be pretty darn reasonable, with a large room for the three of us to share, great breakfast including eggs, an awesome kitchen and cheap rental gear, what more could one want?
We settled in and started our planning for the Torres del Paine trip. We had thought of hitting up the track the very next day as the forecast suggested that were would get better weather. My cold still hading fully recovered and it was getting pretty late in the day to organise things for a 730am departure so we made the call to take it easy, relax, and launch into the planning proper the next day. Staying with Susan and Ivan was working out really well. Ivan could speak Spanish but not very good English, probably only a little more than my Spanish, and Susan could speak (amongst other languages) both English and Spanish so she was able to act as our translator as Ivan and I tried to communicate in our weaker language. I was already looking forward to the 5 day trek to pick up some more Spanish and be around Spanish speakers. I had a funny conversation with Ivan trying to explain what has been doing for walk. It transpired that he worked in Peru with disabled children, but it was classic all his gestures to try and demonstrate disabled kids....first the whole groaning and dripping thing, then trying to lick his lick his shoulder staggering around the room, then he pulled out the imaginary zimmer frame! Communication between people without a common language really is like pictionary and sharades combined!
Puerto Natalas seemed nice enough. We strolled around and checked out different prices for hire equipment and went back to the Erratic Rock for their free information session they run every day at 3pm (we missed it the day before partly due to our clocks being an hour out due to the time difference). We got some useful advice about the way to best approach the trek and some truly awful advice about appropriate clothing to wear. Apparently, according to the Yanky guy running the joint, one should never wear a gore tex jacket during the day, irrespective of what the weather is doing. One should, instead, simply get wet, snowed on, cold and basically exposed to the elements in every way because at the end of the day one can simply change into the dry clothes protected inside the pack. If one should choose, the a gore tex could at that point be worn to keep the dry clothes dry. Absolutely useless advice given the nature of the Patagonian climate and would (as we would find out on our trip!) prove to pose a real risk of exposure or hypothermia in the horrible weather conditions.
We managed to organise all of our hire gear and purchase the food from the supermarket. I had a one person tent from Erratic Rock and a sleeping back from our hostel. I made a late night walk around town to track down an extra gas cylinder after the hostel provided us with an extra one which only had a few minutes of burn time left (we had purchased 2 for ourselves). By late evening the weather had started to pack it in. I was walking around in my gore tex just to get to and from the supermarket. The next morning wasn´t any better and the bus ride out to the park proved to be an adventure in itself. Only a few km out of town it started to snow and as we neared the mountains the entire road and paddocks were covered! The windscreen wipers on the bus struggled to keep up with the huge snow flakes falling from the dark sky. We stopped at a cafe for a toilet break about half way to the park. Getting out of the bus we all just looked at each other at the cold hit us - were were about to spend 4 nights in the snow and would likely not see anything if the weather didn´t clear. There was a feeling in the bus that ´we didn´t buy into this sort of weather!´
To get to the start of the trip we had to first pay a fee of 15000 pesos (it had rise from 8 the day before to mark high season!), which got us a map and little else. We got back onto the bus and made our way along the lake edge to the catamaran which would deliver us to the track start at the western end of the massif. We occasionally got views of the mountains as the sky broke and of guacos (lama like animals) grazing the paddocks. We had time before the catamaran to duck up to a nearby waterfall, only to be struck by a snow Storm on the way back down! The weather was just amazing, and very cold.
The catamaran cost another 11000 pesos (around 30 nzd) for the 30 minute ride (a total rip off!) but we did get tea and coffee and did save 18km of walking. Getting off at the main lodge (name) were were greeted by people coming out the park, who said the 4 days to that point were amazing and that today was their first day of snow - maybe the weather would be set in for a while, perhaps our entire trip! Day one we were off up to the head of a large lake to a camping around near Glacier Grey. This would take around 4.5 hours and we would be presented with great views from a mirador (look out point) approximately 2 hours from the ferry drop off point. This leg of the trip would be the first stoke of the ´W Circut´which is usually completed in 4 or 5 days. We walked for the first few hours in falling snow and strong winds, occasionally taking refuge under trees and shrubs while eating snacks and having a drink. We were lucky with the view from the mirador, with relatively clear views and dramatic beams of light issuing from the clouds. On a clear day mountain provide a beautiful backdrop, but we had to settle for dramatic clouds haha. We arrived at Campamento Glacier Grey slightly a head of the suggested track time and set up our tents. The camping area had not officially opened for the season so camping was free (and no facilities provided). We cooked behind a service building huddling around to keep warm while the pasta bubbled away. Later that night we would pop into the refugio for a cup of coffee use of the toilet facilities. The regugios cost around 20000 for just the bed (around 60 dollars) and food has to be purchased there, for around 20 a plate so we were happy with our choice to camp!
Day two we set off by making a trip to the main mirador close to the glacier. The weather appeared to be slightly better than the day before, although the wind was still bitterly cold. By the time we had back tracked to Refugio Grand for lunch, the weather had packed it in and the thought of heading back out into the cold after a lunch with hot tea was not that appealing, but by the time we had sat around for 40 minutes I was cold and keen to get walking. We made our way along the lake towards Campamento Italiano, which stands at the bottom of the middle stroke of the W, around 2 hours from Grande. Terrible weather hit us with lots of rain and heavy winds. By the time we got to camp it had stopped raining enough to put the tents up without too much wetness entering. Susan and Ivan pitched their tent inside the basic shelter to provide a bit more protection. I unpack my gear and nearly drifted off to sleep after getting cosy in my sleeping bag, before Susan roused me to bring the cooking gear into the shelter to make tea. We prepared tea, then soup, then rice and had a nice evening yarning away. By this point Ivan had identified that his shoes were going to be a problem. He had loaned them from Erratic Rock and they were proving to be pretty useless, letting in lots of water and not giving his soles of his feet much protection. He decided that if the weather was rotten the next morning he would not make the trip up the W to Glacier Frances and Campamento Britanico, opting for a shorter route to Refugio Los Quervos.
The next morning the weather wasn´t much better. I packed up my tent and joined the others for breakfast. Ivan took much of the load as he was only having to undertake a 2.5 hour walk to the next refugio as Susan and I headed up the valley. The weather in the valley was terrible! We were unable to get any decent views of Glacier Frances which, from photos we have seen, is absolutely amazing, and by the time we got above the bus line en route to Campamento Britanico at the head of the valley, it was obvious we were not doing ourselves any favours. The wind was incredibly strong, the snow under foot was getting deeper and the snow was falling harder and increasingly more horizontal with the straightening wind! We decided that it would be better to just head down and make an early approach to the refugio to meet up with Ivan.
It was another miserable day of walking to get to Refugio Los Queros after we had returned from our short walk up Valley Frances. It was simple heads down and jackets closed all they way along the lake front. We arrived around 1pm to find Ivan looking for a tent site in the rain, which he soon opted out of upon our arrival for a hot cup of tea. We were early at the refugio due to our short walk and could have pushed on to the next camping areas to knock a day off the trip, but we decided to hang out for the rest of the afternoon to give the weather a chance to improve. The camping was 3000 pesos, which included as much hot water as we wanted and even a hot shower. I made good use of the hot water but did not have a shower as I thought that was just taking a bit to far. Ordinarily there are amazing views of the mountains behind the refugio, but we only got a peak every now and again. Perhaps the most spectacular site was the mini typhons on the lake, generated by the winds which showed no sign of dropping. We would, after even window bending gust, stand up to see if our tents were still tucked safely amongst the trees.
We had a great afternoon just drinking tea and chatting to people in the refugio. We laughed when an America couple said that they had booked a cabana for 69000 pesos (like 200 NZD) and it didn´t even have a hot shower or any heating!! They spent all their time in the refugio with all us campers before heading up to their cabana at the very last minute!
The next day seemed more promising, with lower winds and slightly clearler skies. Ivan made the decision to head on out given his shoes were rubbish and had given him big blisters which were bleeding a bit and causing quite a lot of pain. Probably a good call given the guys at the refugio said that Campamento Torres had a foot of snow there! We said our good byes to Ivan a few hours into the walk before we started our climb to Refugio Chilano en route to Campamento Torres. We blitzed the track time of 5 1/2 hours by almost an hour and a half which was pleasing. We had our lunch and drank many cups of tea at Chilano before begrudglingly getting back into our wet gear to make the final 45 minute trudge up to Campamento Chilano.
We soon came upon more snow as the track gained height. Around 20 minutes into the walk it started snowing and we were trudging through ankle deep powder. We crossed a snow covered valley leading into the trees that provided shelter for the Campamento Torres. A laid back kiwi couple had beaten us to pitching the tent in the wooden shelter; they were camping out an extra night in the hope that the weather would clear up. We set up out tent in the snow before cooking up some soup and then rice, chatting away to the kiwi couple about their trips through Bolivia and Peru. The temperature had dropped and the snow was really coming down now, so Susan and I headed into the tent to cook up a pot of tea before bed and had a heap of mint chocolate. It was the coldest night so far and I slept in all my clothes and was still restless. The rubbish sleeping bag was totally inadequate but I survived.
We looked out of the tent around 8am, having decided to skip a sunrise effort, to see clear blue skies!! We were ecstatic, giving chears of woo whoo and high fives, before packing up all our breakfast stuff into my day bag, strapping on a bed mat and heading up the hill. The vista had changed dramatically from the evening before, with fresh powder and intense blue skies. We made our way up the 1 hour climb to a perfect view of the towers with only whispy clouds near the top which would later drift away. We prepared hot porrige and tea on a large rock slab and took a heap of photos and shared the moment with an Asian chap from Sydney who had gotten an early start from Chilano. What perfect timing to have 4 days of horrible weather for it to fine up on our last day..just awesome!
They trip down wasn´t so great. I slipped on some snow on the only really steep section of the track, which pushed me forward starting something that resembled an olympic tripple jump attempt, resulting in me jumping from a large rock and landing some 10 or so feet down the hill. Susan looked on in horrow as I literally flew past her and came to an abrupt end in the snow. I sat stunned, not wanting to get up in case I couldn´t walk or had broken something but hadn´t yet realised it. Fortunately I was able to move with pain in my left foot only. However, it become apparenty withing 20 minutes or so that this injury was worse than I first though and would give me difficult in walking normally with any comfort. We packed up the tent and headed down the hill, with me hobbling along in considerable pain. We decided to make a longer route, backtracking our previous day to get views of the mountains and lake in fine weather. I managed okay but knew that getting off the bus after sitting down for 2.5 hours would not be comfortable so I kept on moving not wanting to stop until we had completed the walk. We got back to our mini bus at the track end which would connect us to the park entrance. Pretty crappy given we had already paid 15000 to get into the park that we still had to fork out more to get back to the park entrance!
I spent the next few days hobbling around Puerto Natalas and backing up my photos at an internet cafe. I was on a street corner when a female backpacker saw me hobble up in pain, and she asked what had happened. We had a short conversation before we both clicked that were had met in Montevideo a month or so back! Crazy gringo trail. She would eventually end up in my hostel with her other friends I had met too, which was pretty good value.
Susan and I headed off to the supermarket to make a packed lunch for the 14 hour trip to Ushuaia. We weren´t expecting much from the Chilian bus (except for a big price ticket) so we stocked up well. We departed the hostel early in the morning and boarded our bus, which would go via Puerto Areanas and Rio Grande, or so we thought... We were an hour or so into the trip when the bus pulled over and the attendant chap (who was a bit slow) was gesturing to put our jackets on and get off the bus. It turned out that were were to change bus in the middle of nowhere onto a bus going back the opposite direction but presumably the ´correct´direction! It was all a bit strange but we took comfort in the fact that our tickets were checked and bags swapped over. The bus ride seemed to go quickly chatting and sharing music etc. We changed buses at Rio Grande to continue out journey into Teirra del fuego and Ushuaia, which was immediately a great improvement to the scenerary. Windswept and moss-festooned trees lined much of the road side as we drew closer to the mountains, at times climbing over passes and looking down into large lakes far below. We arrived into Ushuaia a little after sunset, and were rushed away from the bus stop by waiting hostel pimps, which suited me given my sore ankle.
El Calafate and El Chalten - 24-28 September 2008
Before leaving Bariloche I made a trip to the supermarket to stock up on the food for my 33 hour journey to El Calafate, including ham and cheese rolls, empanadas, pastries and various drinks. The bus was only a semi cama style so no food would be served on the entire journey, although I expect it would stop along the way at small cafeterias and bus stations.
The weather was superb on my last day so I did one final trip down to the lake to take a few photos of sights I had missed. I had a pretty nasty cold coming on so I was having trouble phycing up for any great distances so I just pottered around at a leisurely pace.
I arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to wait so played tour guide to some lost looking Americans. I always think it is nice to turn up to a new place and have a fellow backpacker provide a few useful tips and advice on hostels and the key sights, and they seemed to appreciate the same.
Upon boarding the bus it became obvious the difference between a cama bus and a semi cama bus. I had been on semi cama buses before but only for short trip. For a start, there are 4 seats abreast, as opposed to 3, so there is a lot less room in each seat and there are more rows so reclining is pretty limited. I just hoped that nobody else would take the seat next to mine! I was given a great book from the Aussie chap in Hostel 1004, The Boys of Everest, which I had every intention of starting, and finishing, on the bus. However, those plans were quickly dashed when I discovered that the bus had no air conditioning to speak of. At one stage we managed to pop the roof vents but they really did little to help. I am not good with enclosed unventilated spaces so found myself drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes. Not a productive use of time in the bus sleeping during the afternoon so that was a bit disappointing.
We made our way though many small towns on route to Comodoro Rivadavia, where we would change buses at 0630 to another bus heading towards Rio Gallegos. It was a long afternoon and night in a hot bus and no ability to read my book. Fortunately my seat wasn´t occupied so I was able to spread out a bit. While stopped at Comodoro Rivadavia I met a friendly German couple travelling on their honeymoon, Jacob and Catalina. They were trying to decide whether to stay a night in Comodoro Rivadavia before heading down to Rio Gallageous, as we had several hours to wait around before the bus departed. They eventually saw my logic in doing the entire trip in one big hit and purchased a ticket. Our bus eventually turned up again (my luggage was still on it!) and we set off for our next 14 hour leg to Rio Gallegos. There really was little to see on the entire journey, except for massive expanses of dry desert and not a lot else. We stopped for a lunch break at a petrol station literally in the middle of the desert hundreds of kilometres from anywhere. It was like a setting for an American movie set on route 66 with tumble weed drifting in the hot wind and nothing to look at except the odd car passing by. Very remote indeed!
Arriving in Rio Gallageous was quite interesting. It was obvious from the mood of people at the bus station that the town is used simply as a stopover for people making their way further south or up to the popular trekking towns in Patagonia, such as El Calafate and Puerto Natalas. I met some interesting local guys on the bus heading for El Calafate for work, which provide some good chats with the three of us struggling with the other´s language. He had a beer at the bus stop and boarded our bus.
Arriving at El Calafate at 1am was fine, with a taxi from the hostel waiting. I shared it with an Irish couple, who would later join me in my dorm. The hostel, America de sur, was pretty amazing, with only four beds per dorm and private bathrooms, not to mention a heated tile floors and a huge chill out area with great views over the mountains and lake. I settled into bed while the Irish couple decided to read their books at 230am after 36 hours on a bus!!
The flu I picked up in Bariloche had progressively gotten worse and I was contemplating having a layup day at the hostel but after a great breakfast and a chat with the German couple we decided to bolt to the bus station and head out to Perrito Mereno Glacier for the day. The bus headed off to make the 80km journey towards the glacier, stopping once or twice to take in panoramic views as we neared the main attraction. From the first stop it was obvious that we were all in for a very cold day, perhaps the coldest since arriving in South America; the cold memories of Foz de Iguacu and hot cup noodles came rushing back.
We stopped at the shore of the lake to take in icebergs and a charter boat weaving it´s way through to collect passengers before heading back up the hill to the central office and cafeteria. I had all my layers on, including my jacket and beanie, and was still feeling the cold. The three of us headed down towards the first look out platform and were instantly blown away by the immense size of the glacier, even from quite some distance! Measuring over 4km wide, 50m high and 14km deep, the glacier is (I think) the largest creeping glacier in the world. The overcast day turned out to be rather a good thing, adding to the deep blue colour of the mass of ice, which, during full sunlight, takes on a much white appearance. With pockets of blue sky and beams of light shooting through, the glacier was a very photogenic subject! We made our way around the many lookout platforms, stopping at each one to shoot the glacier from a different angle, before retiring to the comfort of the café.
In dire need of warmth but in no way prepared to form out cafeteria prices, I purchased a Gatorade….my plan was to drink half of it then refill it from the matte (Argentinian tea) hot water dispenser outside, to provide a hot orange juice. My plan worked a treat, and soon evolved further to providing me with hot water for my bottle which would now act as a hot water bottle inside my jacket. Perfect! We waited around for a number of hours for our bus to depart, make short bursts back outside to see if the weather had changed but by this stage it was simply too miserable to remain exposed to the elements for any length of time!
Back at the hostel that night the three of us made a huge salad and steak dinner (the vegetable shop proved to be further the Catalina thought so we taxied back from it haah). I decided after dinner that I would spend the next day in the hostel and around El Calafate backing up photo, completing my blog and just chilling out reading in the comfort of the hostel letting my flu do its worst. That morning after breakfast I hit the computer for some serious blogging. Another Irish chap sat down next to me and we started to yarn away….and it soon become clear that we had a similar schedule to this point and that we in fact spent a few nights together camping in the Pantanal in Brasil! His wife came over and we recognised eachother also. That happens way too often haha
I decided that El Chalten sounded like a great destination for the following day as it is reputed to be the ´trekking capital´ of Patagonia, that is all I knew about it. I purchased my bus ticket for 150 pesos which included a night´s accommodation at a hostel. That evening I was sitting reading my book at America De Sur when I spotted Natalie heading out the door. We had parted ways in Uruguay some 2 or 3 weeks before so it was a surprise catchup and an introduction to her boyfriend, which was great. I told her that I had bumped into her future colleagues in Montevideo, which was random. Even more random was the fact that I had earlier been chatting to Emma Bradshaw on facebook and she asked if my dad´s name was Rad…which is a name I believe Dad is only know by to his university friends and those of his generation. It turns out that Emma´s dad and my Dad went through Victoria University law school together back in the day!!! Crazy small world…and I thought knowing Emmas cousin was as random as it got!
Early start the next morning to get to the bus station for El Chalten for a few days. The bus was a typical common class setup with no air con and the heaters going full blast in the heat of the day which put most people to sleep pretty quickly. The drive to El Chalten was pretty uneventful until the last hour, when the view of the Cerro Fitzroy and Cerro Torres became visible. My lack of research into the areas except for the ´trekkers capital of Patagonia´ write-up in the lonely planet meant that I was pleasantly surprised to see these mountains which I immediately recognised but did not realise were in this particular area; for some reason I thought they were in Torres Del Paine! The bus driver kindly pulled over just before town to allow us to take photos. We entered the town via the park headquarters, where we were given a terrific rundown of the paths and what could be achieved in limited time or on extended trips.
I enjoyed a perfect two days of day trekking in the area, helped by perfectly blue skies and warm temperatures which the ranger informed us they had not had for weeks! I completed the walk to Cerro Torre the first afternoon, carrying nothing but a bag of horribly sweet biscuits because everything else in the town was closed (although I did discover a baker nearby the next day). The next day I did the second significant feature of the park, Cerro Torre, which is a jagged outcrop sitting at the head of a lake and towering above a magnificent glacier. The walking was easy and I made good progress, although later I could hardly walk due to the near running pace I had set myself on the decent!
The bus ride on the way back was perfect, with much lower temperatures, better ventilation and low traffic. I sat in the back of the bus and read for a solid 4 hours, including a few hours with my head torch when the interior lights went out, proving that carrying the torch in one´s daybag is always a good thing.
The next day was taking it easy, organise my bus ticket to Puerto Natalas and generally kicking around. Looking forward to Torres Del Paine now that I am in the trekking mood!
The weather was superb on my last day so I did one final trip down to the lake to take a few photos of sights I had missed. I had a pretty nasty cold coming on so I was having trouble phycing up for any great distances so I just pottered around at a leisurely pace.
I arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to wait so played tour guide to some lost looking Americans. I always think it is nice to turn up to a new place and have a fellow backpacker provide a few useful tips and advice on hostels and the key sights, and they seemed to appreciate the same.
Upon boarding the bus it became obvious the difference between a cama bus and a semi cama bus. I had been on semi cama buses before but only for short trip. For a start, there are 4 seats abreast, as opposed to 3, so there is a lot less room in each seat and there are more rows so reclining is pretty limited. I just hoped that nobody else would take the seat next to mine! I was given a great book from the Aussie chap in Hostel 1004, The Boys of Everest, which I had every intention of starting, and finishing, on the bus. However, those plans were quickly dashed when I discovered that the bus had no air conditioning to speak of. At one stage we managed to pop the roof vents but they really did little to help. I am not good with enclosed unventilated spaces so found myself drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes. Not a productive use of time in the bus sleeping during the afternoon so that was a bit disappointing.
We made our way though many small towns on route to Comodoro Rivadavia, where we would change buses at 0630 to another bus heading towards Rio Gallegos. It was a long afternoon and night in a hot bus and no ability to read my book. Fortunately my seat wasn´t occupied so I was able to spread out a bit. While stopped at Comodoro Rivadavia I met a friendly German couple travelling on their honeymoon, Jacob and Catalina. They were trying to decide whether to stay a night in Comodoro Rivadavia before heading down to Rio Gallageous, as we had several hours to wait around before the bus departed. They eventually saw my logic in doing the entire trip in one big hit and purchased a ticket. Our bus eventually turned up again (my luggage was still on it!) and we set off for our next 14 hour leg to Rio Gallegos. There really was little to see on the entire journey, except for massive expanses of dry desert and not a lot else. We stopped for a lunch break at a petrol station literally in the middle of the desert hundreds of kilometres from anywhere. It was like a setting for an American movie set on route 66 with tumble weed drifting in the hot wind and nothing to look at except the odd car passing by. Very remote indeed!
Arriving in Rio Gallageous was quite interesting. It was obvious from the mood of people at the bus station that the town is used simply as a stopover for people making their way further south or up to the popular trekking towns in Patagonia, such as El Calafate and Puerto Natalas. I met some interesting local guys on the bus heading for El Calafate for work, which provide some good chats with the three of us struggling with the other´s language. He had a beer at the bus stop and boarded our bus.
Arriving at El Calafate at 1am was fine, with a taxi from the hostel waiting. I shared it with an Irish couple, who would later join me in my dorm. The hostel, America de sur, was pretty amazing, with only four beds per dorm and private bathrooms, not to mention a heated tile floors and a huge chill out area with great views over the mountains and lake. I settled into bed while the Irish couple decided to read their books at 230am after 36 hours on a bus!!
The flu I picked up in Bariloche had progressively gotten worse and I was contemplating having a layup day at the hostel but after a great breakfast and a chat with the German couple we decided to bolt to the bus station and head out to Perrito Mereno Glacier for the day. The bus headed off to make the 80km journey towards the glacier, stopping once or twice to take in panoramic views as we neared the main attraction. From the first stop it was obvious that we were all in for a very cold day, perhaps the coldest since arriving in South America; the cold memories of Foz de Iguacu and hot cup noodles came rushing back.
We stopped at the shore of the lake to take in icebergs and a charter boat weaving it´s way through to collect passengers before heading back up the hill to the central office and cafeteria. I had all my layers on, including my jacket and beanie, and was still feeling the cold. The three of us headed down towards the first look out platform and were instantly blown away by the immense size of the glacier, even from quite some distance! Measuring over 4km wide, 50m high and 14km deep, the glacier is (I think) the largest creeping glacier in the world. The overcast day turned out to be rather a good thing, adding to the deep blue colour of the mass of ice, which, during full sunlight, takes on a much white appearance. With pockets of blue sky and beams of light shooting through, the glacier was a very photogenic subject! We made our way around the many lookout platforms, stopping at each one to shoot the glacier from a different angle, before retiring to the comfort of the café.
In dire need of warmth but in no way prepared to form out cafeteria prices, I purchased a Gatorade….my plan was to drink half of it then refill it from the matte (Argentinian tea) hot water dispenser outside, to provide a hot orange juice. My plan worked a treat, and soon evolved further to providing me with hot water for my bottle which would now act as a hot water bottle inside my jacket. Perfect! We waited around for a number of hours for our bus to depart, make short bursts back outside to see if the weather had changed but by this stage it was simply too miserable to remain exposed to the elements for any length of time!
Back at the hostel that night the three of us made a huge salad and steak dinner (the vegetable shop proved to be further the Catalina thought so we taxied back from it haah). I decided after dinner that I would spend the next day in the hostel and around El Calafate backing up photo, completing my blog and just chilling out reading in the comfort of the hostel letting my flu do its worst. That morning after breakfast I hit the computer for some serious blogging. Another Irish chap sat down next to me and we started to yarn away….and it soon become clear that we had a similar schedule to this point and that we in fact spent a few nights together camping in the Pantanal in Brasil! His wife came over and we recognised eachother also. That happens way too often haha
I decided that El Chalten sounded like a great destination for the following day as it is reputed to be the ´trekking capital´ of Patagonia, that is all I knew about it. I purchased my bus ticket for 150 pesos which included a night´s accommodation at a hostel. That evening I was sitting reading my book at America De Sur when I spotted Natalie heading out the door. We had parted ways in Uruguay some 2 or 3 weeks before so it was a surprise catchup and an introduction to her boyfriend, which was great. I told her that I had bumped into her future colleagues in Montevideo, which was random. Even more random was the fact that I had earlier been chatting to Emma Bradshaw on facebook and she asked if my dad´s name was Rad…which is a name I believe Dad is only know by to his university friends and those of his generation. It turns out that Emma´s dad and my Dad went through Victoria University law school together back in the day!!! Crazy small world…and I thought knowing Emmas cousin was as random as it got!
Early start the next morning to get to the bus station for El Chalten for a few days. The bus was a typical common class setup with no air con and the heaters going full blast in the heat of the day which put most people to sleep pretty quickly. The drive to El Chalten was pretty uneventful until the last hour, when the view of the Cerro Fitzroy and Cerro Torres became visible. My lack of research into the areas except for the ´trekkers capital of Patagonia´ write-up in the lonely planet meant that I was pleasantly surprised to see these mountains which I immediately recognised but did not realise were in this particular area; for some reason I thought they were in Torres Del Paine! The bus driver kindly pulled over just before town to allow us to take photos. We entered the town via the park headquarters, where we were given a terrific rundown of the paths and what could be achieved in limited time or on extended trips.
I enjoyed a perfect two days of day trekking in the area, helped by perfectly blue skies and warm temperatures which the ranger informed us they had not had for weeks! I completed the walk to Cerro Torre the first afternoon, carrying nothing but a bag of horribly sweet biscuits because everything else in the town was closed (although I did discover a baker nearby the next day). The next day I did the second significant feature of the park, Cerro Torre, which is a jagged outcrop sitting at the head of a lake and towering above a magnificent glacier. The walking was easy and I made good progress, although later I could hardly walk due to the near running pace I had set myself on the decent!
The bus ride on the way back was perfect, with much lower temperatures, better ventilation and low traffic. I sat in the back of the bus and read for a solid 4 hours, including a few hours with my head torch when the interior lights went out, proving that carrying the torch in one´s daybag is always a good thing.
The next day was taking it easy, organise my bus ticket to Puerto Natalas and generally kicking around. Looking forward to Torres Del Paine now that I am in the trekking mood!
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