I'm happy to report that I've made it safely to Buenos Aires! The pilot strike hasn't ended, but late last night, we were sent a giant 747 to bring back most of the stranded passengers to Buenos Aires. I tell you, it was like the last flight out of Saigon. When it was spotted in the air on its way over, everyone ran to the window, some took pictures, and I saw at least two teary eyes. Once gates opened, people started shoving their way on to the plane, fighting over seats, and yelling at the crew. It was madness, but when we landed, there was quite a collective sigh of relief and a round of applause for the pilot. I'm still not sure who that could have been, though, since supposedly no one's flying, but whoever it was did a great job getting us back! And I'm here just in time for my 10pm flight home.
Speaking of which, it still feels weird to be leaving. Six months is a long time to be away from the people you care about, and I'm very much looking forward to being home again, but I had a little twang of nostalgia as we flew into Buenos Aires last night. This has been an amazing experience, and I'm going to have so many wonderful memories for the rest of my life. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed one sentimental posting.
Next time I write, I'll be paying with dollars. Talk to you then!
M
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
Stuck at the end of the world
What some might call an inconvenience, I call a vacation extension.
Remember that pilot strike that I alluded to yesterday? Well, it just turned serious. What started out as a 50% reduction in flights (not affecting the company branch that runs my route), turned into a complete company shut down overnight. The union said that the strike will run until at least Tuesday, and the airline has responded by placing several newspaper ads calling the group a criminal organization that often resorts to threats and violence to achieve its demands. Only in Argentina. At least I took the "Argenfactor" into consideration when I booked the ticket. I still have two days until my flight back to the US on Wednesday, but it could be close.
About an hour ago, this was shaping up to be a cranky posting, but I just got back from dinner, compliments of Aerolineas Argentinas. They also gave me a room voucher that I could redeem at the hotel of my choosing. Needless to say, I'm sleeping on quite a few stars. And a box spring, something I haven't seen for 6 months. I also haven't seen a door lock or in-room electricity in a while, either. Let me tell you, there is a heaven, and it has a great view of the mountains.
I'm going to take this opportunity to offer some of my observations on travel methods in South America. I had been saving them for their own posting, but this one is as appropriate as any. Since we're already on the subject, I'll start with the air. I'm not going to bring up the strike again--because it's been said--and because it's equally likely in any industry; the economy's pretty fickle. However, there is one holiday promotion offered by the primary air carrier in Latin America (TACA) that I find particularly amusing. It offers, and I quote, "1) Our guarantee that at least two pieces of your checked baggage will arrive on the same flight that you do. [This seems like it should be assumed, but maybe that's just me] And if for any reason it doesn’t, we’ll make up for it by giving you a coupon worth $50 off future transportation! 2) Our guarantee that your excess baggage or boxes checked as baggage will be delivered to you within six days of your arrival at your destination." Six days, woo hoo! This is a promotion, mind you, after Dec. 12, anything goes.
City buses and taxis are equally treacherous to the pedestrian, but at least I feel somewhat safe inside the former. Being in the latter is strikingly similar to the wild ride of Mr. Toad, except he had a seat belt.
Long haul buses, my recent specialty, are nothing to set a watch by. The also make airplanes look quite appealing, even now. For instance, my guidebook had recommended one particular company that I used for my first trip out of Buenos Aires. It departed late, arrived later, had uncomfortable seats (and too many of them), a misanthropic driver, an even meaner passenger attendant, and food that was only rivaled in its lack of taste by its lack of substance. All in all, not my most pleasurable Argentine memory. I thought that, for the first time, my guidebook had missed a recommendation. Then I took another company.
Alright, that's all the ranting I'm going to do tonight, I've got to get up early for an exciting day of begging gate agents to stick me in the cargo hold. But first, I'm going to go run around my room naked, order some room service, take a hot shower, and steal a few towels. Talk to you soon.
M
Remember that pilot strike that I alluded to yesterday? Well, it just turned serious. What started out as a 50% reduction in flights (not affecting the company branch that runs my route), turned into a complete company shut down overnight. The union said that the strike will run until at least Tuesday, and the airline has responded by placing several newspaper ads calling the group a criminal organization that often resorts to threats and violence to achieve its demands. Only in Argentina. At least I took the "Argenfactor" into consideration when I booked the ticket. I still have two days until my flight back to the US on Wednesday, but it could be close.
About an hour ago, this was shaping up to be a cranky posting, but I just got back from dinner, compliments of Aerolineas Argentinas. They also gave me a room voucher that I could redeem at the hotel of my choosing. Needless to say, I'm sleeping on quite a few stars. And a box spring, something I haven't seen for 6 months. I also haven't seen a door lock or in-room electricity in a while, either. Let me tell you, there is a heaven, and it has a great view of the mountains.
I'm going to take this opportunity to offer some of my observations on travel methods in South America. I had been saving them for their own posting, but this one is as appropriate as any. Since we're already on the subject, I'll start with the air. I'm not going to bring up the strike again--because it's been said--and because it's equally likely in any industry; the economy's pretty fickle. However, there is one holiday promotion offered by the primary air carrier in Latin America (TACA) that I find particularly amusing. It offers, and I quote, "1) Our guarantee that at least two pieces of your checked baggage will arrive on the same flight that you do. [This seems like it should be assumed, but maybe that's just me] And if for any reason it doesn’t, we’ll make up for it by giving you a coupon worth $50 off future transportation! 2) Our guarantee that your excess baggage or boxes checked as baggage will be delivered to you within six days of your arrival at your destination." Six days, woo hoo! This is a promotion, mind you, after Dec. 12, anything goes.
City buses and taxis are equally treacherous to the pedestrian, but at least I feel somewhat safe inside the former. Being in the latter is strikingly similar to the wild ride of Mr. Toad, except he had a seat belt.
Long haul buses, my recent specialty, are nothing to set a watch by. The also make airplanes look quite appealing, even now. For instance, my guidebook had recommended one particular company that I used for my first trip out of Buenos Aires. It departed late, arrived later, had uncomfortable seats (and too many of them), a misanthropic driver, an even meaner passenger attendant, and food that was only rivaled in its lack of taste by its lack of substance. All in all, not my most pleasurable Argentine memory. I thought that, for the first time, my guidebook had missed a recommendation. Then I took another company.
Alright, that's all the ranting I'm going to do tonight, I've got to get up early for an exciting day of begging gate agents to stick me in the cargo hold. But first, I'm going to go run around my room naked, order some room service, take a hot shower, and steal a few towels. Talk to you soon.
M
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Adventures at the end of the world
Here's what I've been up to in Ushuaia.
On Friday, I explored Ushuaia and visited a few museums. The best one in town is the museum of the ex-prison. This is the interesting history that I alluded to earlier. Ushuaia got its start as an Argentine penal colony, kind of like the Australia of South America. The prison was as fortified as Alcatraz (with less escapees, actually), but the irony is that the prisoners were allowed, and often encouraged, to work in the town. The reasoning was that if they wanted to escape, there's no where to go. Look at a map, the very southernmost region of the continent is a series of islands with freezing water surrounding them. And while you're looking, you'll notice that, at the moment, I'm as close to the south pole as I am to Buenos Aires. I thought that news was kind of interesting.
That evening, I bought a boat ticket for a lap around the Beagle canal, named after the boat in which Charles Darwin sailed here. It's filled with the type of isolated islands that Darwin used to justify his theories on evolution. The most notable were a colony of sea lions, and several others with interesting species of birds. I never thought that I'd use interesting and birds in the same sentence (other than "that bird tasted interesting"), but the ones down here are really bizarre. Nothing like the crap bombers I'm used to seeing in the US.
On Friday, I explored Ushuaia and visited a few museums. The best one in town is the museum of the ex-prison. This is the interesting history that I alluded to earlier. Ushuaia got its start as an Argentine penal colony, kind of like the Australia of South America. The prison was as fortified as Alcatraz (with less escapees, actually), but the irony is that the prisoners were allowed, and often encouraged, to work in the town. The reasoning was that if they wanted to escape, there's no where to go. Look at a map, the very southernmost region of the continent is a series of islands with freezing water surrounding them. And while you're looking, you'll notice that, at the moment, I'm as close to the south pole as I am to Buenos Aires. I thought that news was kind of interesting.
That evening, I bought a boat ticket for a lap around the Beagle canal, named after the boat in which Charles Darwin sailed here. It's filled with the type of isolated islands that Darwin used to justify his theories on evolution. The most notable were a colony of sea lions, and several others with interesting species of birds. I never thought that I'd use interesting and birds in the same sentence (other than "that bird tasted interesting"), but the ones down here are really bizarre. Nothing like the crap bombers I'm used to seeing in the US.
Next day, Saturday. Along with an Italian guy and a French girl from the hostel, I explored the Tierra Del Fuego National park. It had been raining all throughout the previous night, and sporadically that day, so the place was extremely muddy. I just about lost my boots several times. We'd be walking along a trail, and the 80 lb. Italian guy would do a little jig across a wet spot, and the French girl would hop along with equal aplomb, then I'd come along with all the finesse of an elephant in free fall and be up to my waist in seconds. I'm still filthy.
Today. I went to a chairlift to view the local glacier, but it was down for repairs, so my friend-of-the-day and I decided to climb up ourselves. And once we reached the viewpoint, we decided to keep going. So I've finally done it, I've climbed a glacier. Now, this isn't the Bs As on ice that you saw last week, it was more like a high altitude snow river. But, combined with the freshly falling snow, I felt like quite the adventurer. We went up incredibly high, well past any marked paths and intelligent stopping points. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea, but we made it back and had a ton of fun. Take a look.
Click here to see how we got down.
I have a ticket back to Bs As tomorrow, but there's a pilot's strike going on right now, so we'll have to see what happens. Either way, I'm sure glad not to be taking a bus back. It took me a combined 70 hours to get here, and I'm ready for a flight! I'll let you know how it goes.
M
Thursday, November 24, 2005
I hope I don't fall off!
I've arrived at the end of the world! Ushuaia, Argentina is the southernmost city on the planet in the province of Tierra del Fuego. Land of the fire, my ass, I'm freezing! It's absolutely gorgeous, tough.
Sorry, I don't have any coherent story planned, but I'd like to fill you in on my day.
The bus ride involved a ferry trip (the bus just drove onto a boat!) in which we were surrounded by playful dolphins. The scenery was desolate but strangely alluring. It reminded me of Dr. Suess's book "The Lorax", after the factory comes to town.
The bus's pit stop was at a bakery in which there was a sort of mini-zoo exhibiting the local fauna. It was one room with several small animals wandering around. It's about time I saw some beaver!
Ahem, sorry.
The bus eventually emerged from the strange anti-forest to reveal a quaint coastal fishing town with an interesting history. More on that later.
The internet cafe is playing a smooth jazz cover of Marley's "Redemption Song". That settles it, I've heard it all.
Ok, I'm off to bed, there's a lot to do tomorrow!
M
Sorry, I don't have any coherent story planned, but I'd like to fill you in on my day.
The bus ride involved a ferry trip (the bus just drove onto a boat!) in which we were surrounded by playful dolphins. The scenery was desolate but strangely alluring. It reminded me of Dr. Suess's book "The Lorax", after the factory comes to town.
The bus's pit stop was at a bakery in which there was a sort of mini-zoo exhibiting the local fauna. It was one room with several small animals wandering around. It's about time I saw some beaver!
Ahem, sorry.
The bus eventually emerged from the strange anti-forest to reveal a quaint coastal fishing town with an interesting history. More on that later.
The internet cafe is playing a smooth jazz cover of Marley's "Redemption Song". That settles it, I've heard it all.
Ok, I'm off to bed, there's a lot to do tomorrow!
M
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Mountain Myles
Hi everyone,
My second day in El Calafate was spent navigating the glacial lakes of the region. At least, that's what I think happened. Nothing knocks me out faster than a boat trip on rolling waters, especially when I'm as sleep deprived as I am now. It was pretty much just an expensive nap punctuated with amazing scenery. Here's a sample:
I'm not doing a full day boat trip justice by describing it in three sentences, but I'm excited to tell you about the rest of the week, so here goes.
I had signed up for a highly recommended overnight trip across the Chilean border to see the Torres del Paine national park. But when I got back from the boat trip, the hostel staff told me that there weren't enough people going, and the trip was cancelled. I wasn't too upset, since the trip cost a lot of money (hostel-organized trips usually do). It was $200, which may not seem like a ton, but it goes a very long way down here. Plus, after singing up, I heard that the relatively undiscovered Argentine side of the same mountain range was even more spectacular. So there I was, with two newly-free days, and itching for an adventure. There wasn't any time to waste, so that night I bought a ticket for an early bus to El Chalten, the base camp for exploring the mountains. Even though the majority of the 4 hour trip was along a dirt road, I slept like a baby.
I got in around lunch time to the smallest town I've ever seen (Argentina's newest, by the way). There was just one road with a scattering of hostels, restaurants, and outdoor stores. I had a backpack full of food--no surprise--but I didn't have any other camping gear to speak of. Thankfully, the weather was surprisingly pleasant. (The night before, my German hostel roommates told me of their experience, "Yaah, zee vehzer vas haribul".)
I asked around for a camping store, and one was recommended as having good prices. I should have asked for one with good equipment, but that's another lesson learned. I rented a tent, a sleeping bag, and a ground pad. $10, total.
I set off around 2, alone, but it wasn't too long before I found my first hiking buddy, another German. The weather was absolutely spectacular, and the views were even better. Take a look:
We hiked into the park for a couple of hours until he had to turn back; he wasn't camping. I forged ahead, again solo, with only one semi-serious episode of "where the hell am I?" Around 7 or so, I found the campsite that I was looking for and began to set up my gear. Remember, I was fresh off of running up a mountain with the Italian national team, so I had began to think of myself as a regular Sir Edmund Hillary. This is the mindset I was in when I started constructing my comically undersized mancoon of a tent, so you can imagine my frustration at taking almost an hour to put it together. It was a crappy tent, already in rough shape, but my ineptitude just about destroyed it. Notice the duct tape.
Embarrassed by showing just how much of a greenhorn I was, I sheepishly looked around, expecting army grade gear and rugged, trail-worn faces. What I saw were otherwise peaceful people just about at blows with their camping partners over which piece goes where. I wasn't alone.
A Belgian guy that was on my boat trip recognized me and came over to chat. He was an interesting guy that's been all over the world, but what really held my attention was his camping stove. The sun was starting to set, cooling off the forest dramatically. Not to mention, the campsite was right at the snowline, so it got pretty chilly. Besides, the can of creamed corn that I brought for dinner would have tasted awful if I ate it cold.
Once night fell, an amazing day quickly turned into a harrowing night. After making plans with the Belgian, I retired to my "tent" to discover that the sleeping bag that I had rented barely made it up to my nipples. And it stunk. By this point, the sun had completely set and I was violently shaking, wondering how bad things might get. Now, for those of you who have never warded off hypothermia at high altitude, it puts some pretty crazy ideas into your head. First one: I could borrow the Belgain's camping stove and build the world's most poorly placed space heater. That one didn't stick around too long, don't worry. At the same time, I wasn't yet comfortable enough with my Belgian buddy to ask to share his tent, but the idea did cross my mind. What I ended up settling on was putting on every piece of clothing that I had brought. Two shirts, two socks, two pairs of boxers (ever so important), pants, a fleece, and a windbreaker. I had even considered putting on my shoes, but they wouldn't have fit in my sleeping bag.
Somehow, I managed to fall asleep for a few minutes (a testament to how tired I was), but even then, my mind was playing games with me. I had the most vivid dream of an early sunrise and a warm morning, and was halfway out of my tent before I realized what happened. And I wasn't happy about it. I didn't really fall asleep until after the sun came up, only to wake up to the alarm clock that I forgot to turn off. The morning wasn't much better than the night, so I literally ran laps around the campsite to warm up while waiting for my friend to rise. He had his own gear, so his peaceful, warm slumber was cut short by a temporarily insane Myles violently shaking his tent. I still don't feel sorry for him.
Our hike that morning warmed me up quite well. The prize of the park is a 500 meter trek to the closest and best viewpoint of the giant granite cliffs you saw in the background of the last photo. But here's the kicker, the altitude change was also just about 500 meters, so it was like climbing 5 football fields' worth of stairwells. It was tough. But, as is the theme, the view was well worth the effort. The climb led to a secluded lake that had formed in the crater on the side of one of the mountains. Imagine reaching the summit of a very tough hike and immediately being surrounded with more natural beauty than you've ever thought possibe. Giant granite cliffs, a water fall, a secluded lake, snow capped mountains and wind swept plains all in one amazing panarama. The photos don't do it justice.
The afternoon consisited of a relatively calm hike back, which was entirely resisted by my exhausted legs, but I made it back. A cup of tea, a nap on the bus, and a warm shower had never sounded so good. Now, if anyone's wondering, it had been 4 tough days since my last bathing, so I was like human paint thinner Not that I'm bragging.
I've got one more tale to tell, but it's mostly pictures, so I might as well include them in this posting. Yesterday was spent on the ground, touring of the world's only non-receding glacier, Perito Moreno. It's the size of Buenos Aires, and absolutely incredible, take a look:
Tonight, I'm off to the end of the world, talk to you then!
M
My second day in El Calafate was spent navigating the glacial lakes of the region. At least, that's what I think happened. Nothing knocks me out faster than a boat trip on rolling waters, especially when I'm as sleep deprived as I am now. It was pretty much just an expensive nap punctuated with amazing scenery. Here's a sample:
I'm not doing a full day boat trip justice by describing it in three sentences, but I'm excited to tell you about the rest of the week, so here goes.
I had signed up for a highly recommended overnight trip across the Chilean border to see the Torres del Paine national park. But when I got back from the boat trip, the hostel staff told me that there weren't enough people going, and the trip was cancelled. I wasn't too upset, since the trip cost a lot of money (hostel-organized trips usually do). It was $200, which may not seem like a ton, but it goes a very long way down here. Plus, after singing up, I heard that the relatively undiscovered Argentine side of the same mountain range was even more spectacular. So there I was, with two newly-free days, and itching for an adventure. There wasn't any time to waste, so that night I bought a ticket for an early bus to El Chalten, the base camp for exploring the mountains. Even though the majority of the 4 hour trip was along a dirt road, I slept like a baby.
I got in around lunch time to the smallest town I've ever seen (Argentina's newest, by the way). There was just one road with a scattering of hostels, restaurants, and outdoor stores. I had a backpack full of food--no surprise--but I didn't have any other camping gear to speak of. Thankfully, the weather was surprisingly pleasant. (The night before, my German hostel roommates told me of their experience, "Yaah, zee vehzer vas haribul".)
I asked around for a camping store, and one was recommended as having good prices. I should have asked for one with good equipment, but that's another lesson learned. I rented a tent, a sleeping bag, and a ground pad. $10, total.
I set off around 2, alone, but it wasn't too long before I found my first hiking buddy, another German. The weather was absolutely spectacular, and the views were even better. Take a look:
We hiked into the park for a couple of hours until he had to turn back; he wasn't camping. I forged ahead, again solo, with only one semi-serious episode of "where the hell am I?" Around 7 or so, I found the campsite that I was looking for and began to set up my gear. Remember, I was fresh off of running up a mountain with the Italian national team, so I had began to think of myself as a regular Sir Edmund Hillary. This is the mindset I was in when I started constructing my comically undersized mancoon of a tent, so you can imagine my frustration at taking almost an hour to put it together. It was a crappy tent, already in rough shape, but my ineptitude just about destroyed it. Notice the duct tape.
Embarrassed by showing just how much of a greenhorn I was, I sheepishly looked around, expecting army grade gear and rugged, trail-worn faces. What I saw were otherwise peaceful people just about at blows with their camping partners over which piece goes where. I wasn't alone.
A Belgian guy that was on my boat trip recognized me and came over to chat. He was an interesting guy that's been all over the world, but what really held my attention was his camping stove. The sun was starting to set, cooling off the forest dramatically. Not to mention, the campsite was right at the snowline, so it got pretty chilly. Besides, the can of creamed corn that I brought for dinner would have tasted awful if I ate it cold.
Once night fell, an amazing day quickly turned into a harrowing night. After making plans with the Belgian, I retired to my "tent" to discover that the sleeping bag that I had rented barely made it up to my nipples. And it stunk. By this point, the sun had completely set and I was violently shaking, wondering how bad things might get. Now, for those of you who have never warded off hypothermia at high altitude, it puts some pretty crazy ideas into your head. First one: I could borrow the Belgain's camping stove and build the world's most poorly placed space heater. That one didn't stick around too long, don't worry. At the same time, I wasn't yet comfortable enough with my Belgian buddy to ask to share his tent, but the idea did cross my mind. What I ended up settling on was putting on every piece of clothing that I had brought. Two shirts, two socks, two pairs of boxers (ever so important), pants, a fleece, and a windbreaker. I had even considered putting on my shoes, but they wouldn't have fit in my sleeping bag.
Somehow, I managed to fall asleep for a few minutes (a testament to how tired I was), but even then, my mind was playing games with me. I had the most vivid dream of an early sunrise and a warm morning, and was halfway out of my tent before I realized what happened. And I wasn't happy about it. I didn't really fall asleep until after the sun came up, only to wake up to the alarm clock that I forgot to turn off. The morning wasn't much better than the night, so I literally ran laps around the campsite to warm up while waiting for my friend to rise. He had his own gear, so his peaceful, warm slumber was cut short by a temporarily insane Myles violently shaking his tent. I still don't feel sorry for him.
Our hike that morning warmed me up quite well. The prize of the park is a 500 meter trek to the closest and best viewpoint of the giant granite cliffs you saw in the background of the last photo. But here's the kicker, the altitude change was also just about 500 meters, so it was like climbing 5 football fields' worth of stairwells. It was tough. But, as is the theme, the view was well worth the effort. The climb led to a secluded lake that had formed in the crater on the side of one of the mountains. Imagine reaching the summit of a very tough hike and immediately being surrounded with more natural beauty than you've ever thought possibe. Giant granite cliffs, a water fall, a secluded lake, snow capped mountains and wind swept plains all in one amazing panarama. The photos don't do it justice.
The afternoon consisited of a relatively calm hike back, which was entirely resisted by my exhausted legs, but I made it back. A cup of tea, a nap on the bus, and a warm shower had never sounded so good. Now, if anyone's wondering, it had been 4 tough days since my last bathing, so I was like human paint thinner Not that I'm bragging.
I've got one more tale to tell, but it's mostly pictures, so I might as well include them in this posting. Yesterday was spent on the ground, touring of the world's only non-receding glacier, Perito Moreno. It's the size of Buenos Aires, and absolutely incredible, take a look:
Tonight, I'm off to the end of the world, talk to you then!
M
90 pesos to run up a f*ing mountain?
Wow, where to start?
I set off for Rio Gallegos from Puerto Madryn several days ago on an overnight bus that shouldn't have taken more than 18 hours, but for some reason, the police were out in full force. Almost every bus I've ever been on has had to pass through a police checkpoint at some time along the journey. Generally, they're just a bureaucratic relic from the days of military dictatorships, but they were actually used this trip. Thrice. Police stormed the bus each time and asked for everyone's papers and recorded the passengers on board. Because of this, and an unusually late departure (even for this country), I arrived at my destination 6 hours late. So I missed my connection and had to kill the day in the capital city of the Santa Cruz province. Way less interesting than it sounds. I did meet a few interesting travellers, though. Catching the last bus, I arrived in El Calafate, Argentina at 1am with 2 shirts, one fleece, one windbreaker, and a pair of shoes. Not much, considering that this city is generally regarded as the glacier capital of the world. After a very solid slumber, I woke up early and asked the staff at my hostel for a few good side trips. The first one was a trek up to a very scenic vista overlooking the city. It included dinner and departed that afternoon.
I was picked up at my hostel by some employees of the estancia that hosted the hike. Looking around the bus, I realized that I had again met up with another branch of the traveling geriatrics. Wonderful. I wondered what kind of "adventure" could be in store for me and the octogenarians. We stopped at a few other hostels, at one point picking up a guy who was probably in his lower thirties. Even though he looked Italian, I was at least happy to have someone to relate with, if not speak the same language. It turns out, though, that we ended up picking up his wife downtown, so I was once again the lone ranger.
We arrived at the estancia around 6pm (no problem, since the sun doesn't set until 10:30 this far south). It turns out that there were several options to reach the vista. Most of the other travelers went off to the horse stables or Land Rovers, but the Italian couple and I stuck around to climb up on our own power. This is where things started getting ugly.
So, our guide turned out to be an Argentine professional basketball player, so of course he's in shape. And the couple? They're two members from the Italian Alps professional mountain climbing team scouting out locations for their next practice center. And then there's me, the out of shape yankee exchange student who's been sucking down cows' legs for the past six months. They hauled ass. To make things worse, I was lugging around my backpack, since I didn't have a lock to store it in my room. We scaled the first 1000 meters (of altitude change, not trail length) in thirty minutes. For those of you that think in yards, that's fast! And for the kicker, the guide asked us if we wanted to run the last 300. Sergio and Monica didn't even need to think about their answer, so all three heads immediately turned to me. Of course I was going to say yes; I'm a guy, mildly competitive, and full of myself. I thought I could handle it. What followed is a little fuzzy, but I can remember thinking, "and I'm paying for this shit?!" All jokes aside, though, the view at the top was well worth the effort, but I'll let you decide.
And yes, that's a skull in my hand. I found it on the way up. It's probably a puma. I had to leave it behind, though, it was smelling up my backpack, and I definitely don't need any help with that.
Ok. I've got a whole day to kill before my 3am bus out of here, so I'm going to go get some lunch and give you a chance to digest this. I'll be back in a bit with the best part of the week.
M
I set off for Rio Gallegos from Puerto Madryn several days ago on an overnight bus that shouldn't have taken more than 18 hours, but for some reason, the police were out in full force. Almost every bus I've ever been on has had to pass through a police checkpoint at some time along the journey. Generally, they're just a bureaucratic relic from the days of military dictatorships, but they were actually used this trip. Thrice. Police stormed the bus each time and asked for everyone's papers and recorded the passengers on board. Because of this, and an unusually late departure (even for this country), I arrived at my destination 6 hours late. So I missed my connection and had to kill the day in the capital city of the Santa Cruz province. Way less interesting than it sounds. I did meet a few interesting travellers, though. Catching the last bus, I arrived in El Calafate, Argentina at 1am with 2 shirts, one fleece, one windbreaker, and a pair of shoes. Not much, considering that this city is generally regarded as the glacier capital of the world. After a very solid slumber, I woke up early and asked the staff at my hostel for a few good side trips. The first one was a trek up to a very scenic vista overlooking the city. It included dinner and departed that afternoon.
I was picked up at my hostel by some employees of the estancia that hosted the hike. Looking around the bus, I realized that I had again met up with another branch of the traveling geriatrics. Wonderful. I wondered what kind of "adventure" could be in store for me and the octogenarians. We stopped at a few other hostels, at one point picking up a guy who was probably in his lower thirties. Even though he looked Italian, I was at least happy to have someone to relate with, if not speak the same language. It turns out, though, that we ended up picking up his wife downtown, so I was once again the lone ranger.
We arrived at the estancia around 6pm (no problem, since the sun doesn't set until 10:30 this far south). It turns out that there were several options to reach the vista. Most of the other travelers went off to the horse stables or Land Rovers, but the Italian couple and I stuck around to climb up on our own power. This is where things started getting ugly.
So, our guide turned out to be an Argentine professional basketball player, so of course he's in shape. And the couple? They're two members from the Italian Alps professional mountain climbing team scouting out locations for their next practice center. And then there's me, the out of shape yankee exchange student who's been sucking down cows' legs for the past six months. They hauled ass. To make things worse, I was lugging around my backpack, since I didn't have a lock to store it in my room. We scaled the first 1000 meters (of altitude change, not trail length) in thirty minutes. For those of you that think in yards, that's fast! And for the kicker, the guide asked us if we wanted to run the last 300. Sergio and Monica didn't even need to think about their answer, so all three heads immediately turned to me. Of course I was going to say yes; I'm a guy, mildly competitive, and full of myself. I thought I could handle it. What followed is a little fuzzy, but I can remember thinking, "and I'm paying for this shit?!" All jokes aside, though, the view at the top was well worth the effort, but I'll let you decide.
And yes, that's a skull in my hand. I found it on the way up. It's probably a puma. I had to leave it behind, though, it was smelling up my backpack, and I definitely don't need any help with that.
Ok. I've got a whole day to kill before my 3am bus out of here, so I'm going to go get some lunch and give you a chance to digest this. I'll be back in a bit with the best part of the week.
M
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Hang in there
I've been accumulating quite a few stories over the last couple of days in El Calafate. [Sneak preview: the Italian mountain climbing team, police searches, missed bus, wild cattle, and a 3 hour tour that lasted almost as long as Gilligan's.] Unfortunately, I've got neither the time nor internet connection to relate them all just yet. As it is, I've hiked for an hour to find the only internet cafe in town, and I'm being charged a rate appropiate for house rental on the beach. So I've got to keep it brief. Not to mention, I've got get ready for a a 7 am bus that will take me to an even more remote part of Patagonia for an overnight hike. I'll be alone, rediculusly underprepared, and undoubtedly starving, so I should have a few more stories by the time I return. Before you get too worried, Mom, there will be plenty of other hikers out on the trail, I just won't know any of them. Wish me luck.
M
M
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
¡Muchos penguinos!
That about sums up my day! A group of people from the hostel and I set out for Punto Tombo, Argentina, the largest penguin reserve in the world. Now, before you get your hopes up, all 1,200,000 of them weren't agregated in a giant waddling herd, as I expected. They are during part of the year, but this is the month when the babies are born. The familes stray from the herd and pick a piece of the tundra to hatch their eggs, so visitors can see them up close. Really close, as in a momentary lapse in concentration means you're going to step on one. Well, on with the show. Enjoy.
Monday, November 14, 2005
One less joke
Well, I've got to cross one joke off my list. The hostel is finally getting a younger clientele; It must have been a tour group or something. Either way, I'm no longer the baby of the place. I'm still in a minority though, since about every country is represented here, even Australia. That's how you can tell a travel destination is really world class. If they're going to pay the $2000 to get off their island, they're going to be damn sure it's worth it. Americans (the northern variety) travel more than anyone in the world, but we really don't know our ass from the Eiffel tower. That's to say is that Americans travel on reputation and buzz factor more than actual destination worthiness. My recommendation: go to Argentina!
Ok, I shouldn't wander, there's plenty to talk about today. I woke up early again to head out for a tour along the coast. It started out with a quick bus ride to the water to meet a whale watching boat. And let me tell you, Greenpeace was right, Willy's really got something going for him. We also saw sea lions, penguins, seals, and dolphins. I'd really love to show you a picture of the last group, but they're quick little suckers. They were swimming alongside our boat and jumping out of the water for a few entertaining minutes. Of course, most of these species are just a few Captain Ahabs away from extinction. I'm not going to go on a big diatribe, because I sure do love sushi, but the planet's oceans are in worse shape that its forests, so lets give them a break.
We spent the afternoon checking out another interesting ecosphere, but from the land. It was a unique beach formation that seals love to play on. I debated making up some bullshit about how they form, but I don't even know enough to make stuff up. Besides, I know a few marine biologists that might be reading this. I'd better just show some photos.
This is it, but I'm not sure what it's called. It sure is cool, though.
And another one.
(Technical difficulties on this one, sorry)
The obligatory whale one, although it was a bit harder to take one of these guys (actually girls, mother and daughter) because they kept moving. They really could have flipped our boat if they wanted.
This photo is of one of the largest, most beautiful specimens of its kind. And of a big fossil, too. Did anyone not see that coming?
I should have some good penguin ones tomorrow.
Ok, I shouldn't wander, there's plenty to talk about today. I woke up early again to head out for a tour along the coast. It started out with a quick bus ride to the water to meet a whale watching boat. And let me tell you, Greenpeace was right, Willy's really got something going for him. We also saw sea lions, penguins, seals, and dolphins. I'd really love to show you a picture of the last group, but they're quick little suckers. They were swimming alongside our boat and jumping out of the water for a few entertaining minutes. Of course, most of these species are just a few Captain Ahabs away from extinction. I'm not going to go on a big diatribe, because I sure do love sushi, but the planet's oceans are in worse shape that its forests, so lets give them a break.
We spent the afternoon checking out another interesting ecosphere, but from the land. It was a unique beach formation that seals love to play on. I debated making up some bullshit about how they form, but I don't even know enough to make stuff up. Besides, I know a few marine biologists that might be reading this. I'd better just show some photos.
This is it, but I'm not sure what it's called. It sure is cool, though.
And another one.
(Technical difficulties on this one, sorry)
The obligatory whale one, although it was a bit harder to take one of these guys (actually girls, mother and daughter) because they kept moving. They really could have flipped our boat if they wanted.
This photo is of one of the largest, most beautiful specimens of its kind. And of a big fossil, too. Did anyone not see that coming?
I should have some good penguin ones tomorrow.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
A little exploring
Hi everybody,
I woke up today to the geriatric society popping in their teeth around 7am. S-E-V-E-N. How do these people live like this?! But it did allow me to get in a full day of exploring.
I went to a small Welsh settlement called Trelew, where there was a surprisingly well developed dinosaur museum. And that's about it. But at least it allowed me to get a feel for the area and plan out the next couple of days. I travelled with one of my roommates that had the same plans for today. Besides, we thought that us young ones should stick together. She's 50. And don't give me a hard time, or call me Oedipus, there are slim pickings for travel buddies. She actually turned out to be pretty cool, though. She's an Argentine doctor from Bs. As. that is interested in natural remedies, so we had plenty of things to talk about. We spoke in Spanish all day, which was great practice.
I've got a few pics from the museum that I'll post as soon as I can. Tomorrow's going to be a very cool day, so I'll post any whale photos that I can get.
I'm tying up the only computer in a big hostel, so I'd better keep this short. I don't want to keep grandpa up too late. Talk to you all tomorrow.
Myles
I woke up today to the geriatric society popping in their teeth around 7am. S-E-V-E-N. How do these people live like this?! But it did allow me to get in a full day of exploring.
I went to a small Welsh settlement called Trelew, where there was a surprisingly well developed dinosaur museum. And that's about it. But at least it allowed me to get a feel for the area and plan out the next couple of days. I travelled with one of my roommates that had the same plans for today. Besides, we thought that us young ones should stick together. She's 50. And don't give me a hard time, or call me Oedipus, there are slim pickings for travel buddies. She actually turned out to be pretty cool, though. She's an Argentine doctor from Bs. As. that is interested in natural remedies, so we had plenty of things to talk about. We spoke in Spanish all day, which was great practice.
I've got a few pics from the museum that I'll post as soon as I can. Tomorrow's going to be a very cool day, so I'll post any whale photos that I can get.
I'm tying up the only computer in a big hostel, so I'd better keep this short. I don't want to keep grandpa up too late. Talk to you all tomorrow.
Myles
Saturday, November 12, 2005
And I'm off
Well, I've safely arrived at my first destination, Puerto Madryn, Argentina. It's a small fishing town with the bluest water I've ever seen. I'm in love with the place, and I haven't even gone whale-watching yet. My hostel is clean, quiet, and safe, which begs one question: where the fuck am I? My apologies the easily bothered readers out there, but if you saw this place, you'd be just as confused. The first thing I noticed (and really my only point of discontent) is that I'm the youngest person here. By a lot. I just came back from dinner with a group of women old enough to have given birth to me. (That's to say, about 35-40, right Mom?) This is the weirdest hostel dynamic I've ever seen. It's really more like a retirement center with ash trays. Don't get me wrong, it really is a nice place, it's just not...well, fun. That's probably not a bad thing--since I'm here for the nature, and there will be plenty of time for that. Actually though, an early bed time is fine with me, I slept about 20-30 seconds on the bus over here. To give you some perspective as to what it takes to keep me up, I've slept through three earthquakes and a tornado. It was quite a bumpy one. As such, I'm way too wiped out to carry this posting much further, but I'm got some cool things planned, and I'll keep you posted.
M
M
Friday, November 11, 2005
Woo hoo!!!
Hey everybody,
There's no better feeling for a college student than the one that comes after turning in your last final of the semester. Except, perhaps, the one that comes the day you leave for a three week trek through Patagonia. Lucky me!
After a week marked with awkward goodbye dinners and one-upping comparisons of travel plans, I'm off. Well, not quite; I'm sitting in the bus terminal, but I'll be on my way soon enough. I'm planning on seeing the biggest glaciers in the world, the southernmost city in the world, and the largest migration of penguins in the world. Without, of course, amounting the biggest debt in the world.
I don't have time to go into too much detail, but after i arrive at my first destination (a mere 24 hours from now), I'll post something that does the location justice. Talk to you all then!
Myles
There's no better feeling for a college student than the one that comes after turning in your last final of the semester. Except, perhaps, the one that comes the day you leave for a three week trek through Patagonia. Lucky me!
After a week marked with awkward goodbye dinners and one-upping comparisons of travel plans, I'm off. Well, not quite; I'm sitting in the bus terminal, but I'll be on my way soon enough. I'm planning on seeing the biggest glaciers in the world, the southernmost city in the world, and the largest migration of penguins in the world. Without, of course, amounting the biggest debt in the world.
I don't have time to go into too much detail, but after i arrive at my first destination (a mere 24 hours from now), I'll post something that does the location justice. Talk to you all then!
Myles
Friday, November 04, 2005
I'm really not in Kansas, anymore
Buenos Aires is just modern enough to occasionally trick me into complacency, and I forget that I'm really in another culture. And then there are times when the shock winds up and slaps me in the face. Last night was one of them. I went to the graduation dance of my host sister's high school, the closest equivalent we have up north is the prom, but going into it with that expectation was what really floored me.
The "prom" was held in a standard disco that had closed its doors to the public that night. It started at 10, so of course we didn't even leave until 11. By we, I mean the whole family; it's for everyone, not just the students. There was supposed to be food, so I didn't eat, which left me absolutely starving by the time the tiniest ham and cheese sandwiches I've ever seen were served at midnight. I lost count of exactly how many I ate, but it was much closer to triple digits than I'd like to admit.
The sandwiches were part of a cocktail-type setting, with the families all chatting with each other. That was pretty ho-hum for me, since I didn't know any of them, but there was a little comic relief when a long lost friend of my host family came up to me and was absolutely astounded with how much I'd grown. Then I pointed her in the direction of my significantly shorter host brother. Her guffawed response was enough to keep me chuckling for the rest of the night.
Around 1, all the students piled into decorated buses to take a lap of the city while shouting out their accomplishment. I've seen a few of these buses cruising the city before, so it was nice to know that wasn't just me choosing the wrong tour company. While they were gone, the parents and siblings went to a nearby bar to kill time until the students returned. It wasn't to hard to hear their return, and ran to meet them at the club. One girl was too drunk to make it off the bus, and once my host dad/doctor made sure she was ok, all the parents gave her a hard time. She'll be pretty embarrassed when she goes back to school.
At this point most of the parents went home to at least get an hour of sleep before work. My host siblings and I went back to the club to hang out with the students for a bit, and it looked more like a riot than any school dance I've ever seen. There was a hired group that was pounding beats out on marching drums with all of the students dancing around them. If anyone's seen footage of a Brazilian carnival, you know what it looked like. Then the band gave way to a DJ, and the place turned into an normal (invite only) club. We only hung around for a bit longer, since the people I was with actually did stuff during the day, but it was a lot of fun. Considering that my host sister hadn't woken up by the time I left the house at 4 (I didn't rise too early, myself), I'd be really surprised if it ended a second before 7am. I'd like to see that at my high school!
M
The "prom" was held in a standard disco that had closed its doors to the public that night. It started at 10, so of course we didn't even leave until 11. By we, I mean the whole family; it's for everyone, not just the students. There was supposed to be food, so I didn't eat, which left me absolutely starving by the time the tiniest ham and cheese sandwiches I've ever seen were served at midnight. I lost count of exactly how many I ate, but it was much closer to triple digits than I'd like to admit.
The sandwiches were part of a cocktail-type setting, with the families all chatting with each other. That was pretty ho-hum for me, since I didn't know any of them, but there was a little comic relief when a long lost friend of my host family came up to me and was absolutely astounded with how much I'd grown. Then I pointed her in the direction of my significantly shorter host brother. Her guffawed response was enough to keep me chuckling for the rest of the night.
Around 1, all the students piled into decorated buses to take a lap of the city while shouting out their accomplishment. I've seen a few of these buses cruising the city before, so it was nice to know that wasn't just me choosing the wrong tour company. While they were gone, the parents and siblings went to a nearby bar to kill time until the students returned. It wasn't to hard to hear their return, and ran to meet them at the club. One girl was too drunk to make it off the bus, and once my host dad/doctor made sure she was ok, all the parents gave her a hard time. She'll be pretty embarrassed when she goes back to school.
At this point most of the parents went home to at least get an hour of sleep before work. My host siblings and I went back to the club to hang out with the students for a bit, and it looked more like a riot than any school dance I've ever seen. There was a hired group that was pounding beats out on marching drums with all of the students dancing around them. If anyone's seen footage of a Brazilian carnival, you know what it looked like. Then the band gave way to a DJ, and the place turned into an normal (invite only) club. We only hung around for a bit longer, since the people I was with actually did stuff during the day, but it was a lot of fun. Considering that my host sister hadn't woken up by the time I left the house at 4 (I didn't rise too early, myself), I'd be really surprised if it ended a second before 7am. I'd like to see that at my high school!
M
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