South America

Getting to Europe the old-fashioned way

We took slow travel to a new level as we spent 21 days travelling by ship from Santos, Brazil to Venice, Italy.  Along the way, we stopped at six ports of call in Brazil and five ports of call in Europe.  We spent a total of nine days at sea of which five were consecutive days as we crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

From the moment we made the decision to travel to Europe by cruise, we had been looking forward to it.  Even the tragic accident off the coast of Italy and the untimely incident in the Indian Ocean just weeks before our departure date could not dampen our enthusiasm.  Settling into one room for three weeks instead of the usual three nights, eating  familiar food that would be readily available, making no travel arrangements, taking a break from being tourists – this is what we were focusing on.  Yet within minutes of boarding, or maybe it was in the long line-ups during the tedious embarkation process, I recalled how much I don’t really like these mega cruises.  The crowds, the line-ups, the pushy tourists, the lack of personal space, the loud obnoxious cruise director who thinks everybody wants to play bingo or learn how to salsa by the pool, the absence of peace and quiet – it all gets on my nerves after awhile.  And we would be on this ship for 21 days – what was I thinking??

Main Dining Room

The ship

Costa Fortuna excelled in mediocrity; from the food to the entertainment, everything was completely adequate yet nothing was remarkable or memorable.  Only nine years old, this ship already seemed rather dated in its gaudy décor, but maybe that’s just the Italian style.  It had all the standard amenities you would expect on a large ship – two restaurants for sit-down meals, one upscale restaurant (for a surcharge), a large cafeteria style dining room for breakfast and lunch, a multi-level theatre for nightly entertainment, a large casino, several bars and lounges, a couple of pools and a few hot tubs, a spa and gym, and a children’s play area.

Main Theatre

Of the 3,000 passengers on board, the majority were Brazilian, followed by Europeans.  I would guess the average age was 60+.  We were definitely in the minority based on country of origin, language and age.  The nightly entertainment in the main theatre seemed to target the majority demographics – think Lawrence Welk and you’ve got the picture.  There were plenty of activities planned each day if you were into that sort of thing.  You know, things like arts and crafts (let’s paint ceramics or make paper boxes or paper flowers), dancing lessons by the pool, daily bingo, and games like “Tiles Tournament”, “Belly Smackers Championship” and “Hula Hoop Championship”.  Sorry I can’t offer more details – we were too busy relaxing to get involved.

Ports of Call in Brazil

We explored all the ports of call independently using local transportation that included taxis, buses and metro systems.  We had several electronic guide books to help us figure out what we should see in each port of call as well as the research that I had done in advance when we had internet access.

Ipenema Beach, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Of the six cities we visited in Brazil (Rio de Janeiro, Ilheus, Salvadaor, Maceio, Recife, and Fortaleza), Rio was our favourite and we wished we had more time to spend there.  In Rio, we walked along the infamous Cococabana and Ipenema beaches, enjoying spectacular scenery from Sugarloaf Mountain and sipping refreshing coconut milk which came complete with a lesson from an English-speaking local who showed us how to eat the soft, unripened coconut flesh afterwards.  Simply delicious.

Salvador, Brazil

While every city had miles of beautiful beaches, we enjoyed the beaches in Maceio the most.  The turquoise waters were crystal clear and warm like the Caribbean; no signs of pollution like the other beaches.  The worst port of call was Recife which we visited on a Sunday when everything was closed; perhaps this only served to highlight the filth and decay in the historic part of the city where we were saddened to see so many down and out homeless people.  Salvador’s historic district, Pelourinho was recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985.  This area dates back to the 16th and 17th centuries and boasts numerous richly decorated baroque churches, tiny squares, beautiful old colonial mansions, and cobblestone streets. Yet when we visited, I felt like I was on a set in a theme park – it was so contrived and touristy including the ladies dressed up in local costume offering to have their picture taken with you – for a fee of course.

Maceio, Brazil

Our appreciation of Brazil deepened as we visited each city.  While we may not have been wowed by every port of call, they all shared some things in common: gorgeous beaches, cleanliness (except for Recife), friendly locals who were always happy to help you in spite of language barriers, and beautiful climate (hot, humid and sunny).  We definitely want to return to Brazil one day to explore it in more depth.

Lazy, hazy days at sea

I got a cold again on this cruise but somehow timed it perfectly to align with our days at sea which were spent lazing around, amusing ourselves with books and movies, working on our computers (writing and photography) and working out.  It was idyllic as was the weather: sunshine every day and hot (low 30’s) at the beginning with the days gradually getting cooler (low 20’s) as we headed north.  We adjusted to the European time zone gradually by setting the clocks one hour ahead for six consecutive days which for a while really messed us up – we were staying up until two or three in the morning and sleeping almost until noon – easy to do with an inside cabin and no natural light, but we had nowhere pressing to go or things to do so it didn’t really matter.

Ports of Call in Europe

We loved every single port of call in Europe to the point where we are fantasizing about how we can relocate to any of these destinations: Tenerife (Canary Islands, Spain), Malaga (Spain), Valletta (Malta), Corfu (Greece), Dubrovnik (Croatia).

Malaga, Spain

Puerto de la Cruz, San Tenerife, Canary Islands

We docked in Santa Cruz on the island of Tenerife, the largest and most populous of the seven Canary Islands. After exploring the downtown area for a couple of hours, we hopped on a local bus and headed to Puerto de la Cruz, on the north end of the island.  It was love at first sight for both of us; the European architecture, the charming café’s along the pedestrian-only streets and the gorgeous waterfront completely enamored us.  Just as we were thinking this was the place to retire to, we stopped in Malaga next, on the southern coast of Spain in an area known as the Costa del Sol (coast of sun), and we fell in love all over again.  Picasso’s birthplace offered a breathtakingly beautiful cathedral, an ancient castle and fortress, plus the beautiful European architecture, charming café’s and a gorgeous harbour.

Valletta, Malta

We were disappointed when we arrived in Malta on Good Friday to find everything closed for the holiday. Luckily we had been there on a previous cruise so we had already seen many of the highlights.  Our afternoon took an unexpected turn when we met a very nice English couple (Angela and Harry) and their two grandchildren (Skyler and Joseph) while we were enjoying a beer on a patio.  As we engaged them in small talk, we learned they had retired to Malta five years earlier. This was a great opportunity to learn about what life was like on this small island.  Much to our surprise, as we finished up our drinks, Angela invited us back to their place to see where they live. Harry took us on a bit of a walking tour to their maisonette which was a lovely 2 storey home similar to a townhouse.  After a short visit over a cup of coffee, Harry kindly offered to drive us back to the ship, taking the scenic route and pointing out all the highlights along the way.  It turned out to be one of our most enjoyable ports of call!

Corfu, Greece

Our visits to the last two ports of call, Corfu (Greece) and Dubrovnik (Croatia) were only a few hours long – just enough to get a glimpse of each city but not long enough to really see or do much.  We still enjoyed these cities.

While this cruise had its shortcomings, it was perfect for what we needed – transportation from South America to Europe and some rest and relaxation. We arrived in Europe feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the next continent, starting with Italy.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

After spending just one day in Venice, we headed to Florence, Italy, where we met up with my sister Sonja.  It’s going to be a busy couple of weeks as we try to cram as much in as possible.  I’ll share the highlights from Florence, Milan, Venice and Rome in the next few posts.

Grand Canal, Venice, Italy

Leaning towers of Santos

About 80 km from Sao Paulo, Santos has the biggest seaport in Latin America and it is from here that we board our transatlantic cruise.  So it made sense to spend our last few days in this area, even though we had been warned this was not the nicest tourist destination.

Santos is known for being the country’s coffee exporting capital and home of Pele, the legendary Brazilian soccer star who played most of his career here. The 100,000-plus seat stadium that dominates Santos’ skyline is regarded as much a shrine as the city’s historic Coffee Exchange, now a museum, where farmers once haggled with barons over the price of their crop.

As possibly the only foreign tourists in this city of about half a million, we enjoyed being immersed in the local culture, a little off the beaten tourist track.  We joined the many locals who headed to the beach in droves on Saturday and Sunday, although we did stand out in our beach attire.  I simply could not convince Chris to buy a speedo, the standard for all males regardless of age and physique. Contrary to common belief, not all women wore skimpy micro bikinis, in fact they were in the minority. Much to my surprise (and perhaps Chris’ disappointment), most wore rather modest bikinis.  Things might be different when we get to Rio.

Our hotel, Ibis, was ideally situated about 50 m from the beach giving us quick and easy access. The beach was long and wide, with a 5 km beachfront garden that made it in the Guinness Book of Records as the largest beachfront garden in the world.  We joined runners of all shapes and sizes for two morning runs along the firm sand at the water’s edge.  What a fabulous running route!

Setting up for the day.  Each weekend morning, vendors set up
their chairs and umbrellas along with a mini bar to serve their clients.

Packing up at the end of the day.

The beach cleared out by dusk, but as night fell, the beach was illuminated
by large flood lights; we saw people strolling along the beach
(from out hotel window) well into the night.

Taking a stroll in the early evening,
watching the cruise ships sail away into the sunset.

While walking along the beach, we noticed a strange phenomenon – many of the buildings appeared to be leaning.  At first we thought it might be an optical illusion, but on closer scrutiny, we confirmed these buildings were definitely leaning. I later learned that the problem became manifest back in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s and is the result of a combination of poor soil conditions and shoddy workmanship. Below a seven-meter layer of sand is a 30-40 meter deep bed of clay that doesn’t cope well with the weight of the structures. Almost 100 buildings have been affected, all of which are inhabited, and which authorities are quick to assure are completely safe.   Some speculate that if one building were to collapse, it could trigger a domino affect that could literally wipe out the beach front. It is possible to correct these structural problems but the cost is prohibitive; only one building has been repaired thus far at a cost of over half a million dollars.

We arrived in Santos with back packs full of dirty clothes; we were in desperate need of doing laundry.  While travelling for six months in South America, laundry services have been available on practically every street corner. But now, when we were in desperate need, not one could be found. There were plenty of dry cleaners around our upscale neighbourhood, but not a single laundry service.  And so we washed our clothes by hand in our hotel sink and made some makeshift clothes lines to dry them out.  Not ideal, but at least we had clean clothes before our cruise.

Today, we are boarding our ship, Costa Fortuna, and we will most likely be off line for the next three weeks.  If that cruise line sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve read about some cruise related accidents in the news recently.  The ship that went aground off the coast of Italy in January was part of Costa’s fleet as was the one that drifted for days close to the Seychelles Islands in the Indian Ocean because a fire killed all electrical power on board.  We’re keeping our fingers crossed that this ship will sail without incident and we’ll make it across the pond in one piece.

Here’s our itinerary:

Mon 3/19 Santos (Brazil)
Tue 3/20 Rio de Janeiro (Brazil)
Wed 3/21 At Sea - -
Thu 3/22 Ilheus (Brazil)
Fri 3/23 Salvador Bahia (Brazil)
Sat 3/24 Maceio (Brazil)
Sun 3/25 Recife (Brazil)
Mon 3/26 Fortaleza (Brazil)
Tue 3/27 At Sea - -
Wed 3/28 At Sea - -
Thu 3/29 At Sea - -
Fri 3/30 At Sea - -
Sat 3/31 At Sea - -
Sun 4/1 St. Cruz de Tenerife (Canary Islands)
Mon 4/2 At Sea - -
Tue 4/3 Malaga (Spain)
Wed 4/4 At Sea - -
Thu 4/5 At Sea - -
Fri 4/6 La Valletta (Malta)
Sat 4/7 Corfu (Greece)
Sun 4/8 Dubrovnik (Croatia)
Mon 4/9 Venice (Italy)

See you in three weeks in Italy!

Scratching the surface of São Paulo

With a population of 11+ million in the city and almost 20 million in its metropolitan region, to say São Paulo is big would be an understatement.  In fact, São Paulo is the largest city in Brazil, the largest city in the southern hemisphere and America, and the world’s sixth largest city by population. We spent four days in São Paulo and barely scratched the surface of this vast city.

Our hostel, Telestar was located in the Vila Mariana neighbourhood, and was well situated within a few minute walk to the metro, which was our primary means of transportation as we explored various parts of the city.  This hostel catered to a younger crowd of primarily solo, male travellers, many of whom were working in the city. Like every hostel, there were things we liked and things we didn’t like. I found the level of cleanliness to be seriously lacking, we didn’t have wifi in our room, and the general atmosphere was more of a frat house than a commercial hostel. The best part of our stay was the food. Breakfasts included freshly squeezed orange juice, delicious brewed coffee, fresh fruit, and a choice of ham omelette or melted cheese and ham sandwich.  Dinner was provided by the resident chef who prepared delicious meals each night that represented typical Brazilian cuisine.

Posing with the chef at our hostel.

The second largest park of the city and probably the most popular, Ibirapuera Park was within walking distance from our hostel. Reminiscent of Central Park in New York City in terms of its location in the middle of a city, its size and its beauty, we visited the park twice – the first time for a touristy run (run, take pictures, walk, take more pictures, visit the art gallery, run a little more, etc.), and the second time for a real run.

A large main roadway (closed to traffic) provided a perfect running track as it passed around two man-made lakes that were home to black and white swans along with a variety of other birds.  A choreographed water fountain entertained us for almost an hour, reminding us of the water fountain in front of the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. The park features several pavilions, museums and galleries; we visited the Afro-Brazil Museum which honored Brazil’s rich African heritage. Both times, we visited the park mid-morning in the middle of the week and it was full of people engaged in all forms of physical fitness: walking, running, cycling and exercising in the many exercise stations located throughout the park.  Paulistanos, as residents of São Paulo are known, take exercising seriously!

Choreographed water fountain.

Exercise station in the park.

Video:  Dancing waters

We discovered Parque Trianon while walking along Paulista Avenue, which was in the heart of the downtown financial district. This small park was a  tropical oasis in the middle of the city, offering a lovely escape from the traffic, noise and pollution.  In fact, while walking through this jungle-like park, one could easily forget that you were in the middle of a city since even the buildings were obscured by the thick vegetation.

Architecture along Paulista Avenue.

The Liberdade neighborhood is home to the largest Japanese population outside of Japan and we spent one day wandering through this area and the neighbouring Centro district.  It was here that I decided to do a little bit of shopping in preparation for our cruise and trip to Italy. And it was here that I faced head on the challenge of not knowing a single word of the local language, Portuguese.   How to ask for another size, or a different color?  The majority of the boutiques were staffed with zealous assistants who made it their mission to help you.  As I entered a boutique, I would be greeted by one of the sales staff who would ask me, I assume, if she could help me find something.  I immediately said I spoke no Portuguese, only English.  Nobody spoke English.  Undeterred, the assistant would stay by my side, making suggestions even though I didn’t understand what she was saying, holding any clothes that I wanted to try on.  Somehow I managed with a creative use of sign language and facial expressions to find the things I was looking for: a pair of high heels, dress pants and a dressy top. It was exhausting!

Centro district in Sao Paulo.

Metropolitan Cathedral

View of the plaza from the cathedral steps.

Shopping in downtown Sao Paulo.

As we walked around the city, we wondered why there were no billboards or advertisements anywhere to be seen.  Apparently, the city passed a Clean City Law in 2007 which resulted in the removal of about 15,000 billboards, 1,600 signs and 1,300 towering metal panels. This law even extends to the air space above São Paulo.  The goal of this law was to remove “visual pollution”, which resulted in exposing both the beauty and ugliness of Brazil’s bustling business capital. For the first time in decades, the ornate facades of old downtown buildings have been revealed in all their glory; on the other hand, the slums, or favelas, that line the expressways are no longer hidden behind gaudy billboards.

In spite of its formidable size and reputation as a dangerous city, São Paulo made a favourable impression on us.  The areas we explored were extremely clean, probably the cleanest South American city we have visited, and we always felt very safe.  Police presence is strong throughout the city which has gone a long way towards curbing petty crimes.  The extensive metro system was modern, clean and air conditioned.  Brazilian cuisine was delicious; no matter where we ate, we always had a great meal.  The people were friendly and helpful despite our lack of basic language skills.  All in all, we enjoyed our few days in Sao Paulo, even though we know we barely scratched the surface.

Getting to Iguazú Falls in style

Much to my great dismay we arrived in Iguazú Falls a full hour ahead of schedule.  This meant one hour less on the most luxurious bus I’ve ever been on.  Perhaps I’m being a little facetious, but I’m not kidding about our very enjoyable 17 hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Puerto Iguazú (Bus company: Via Bariloche, Full Cama Service, if anybody is planning a trip).

Each pair of seats was ensconced in its own cubicle, complete with individual television monitors that offered a range of videos and music to entertain, and plush red leather seats that were more comfortable than our Lazy-Boy recliners at home and these seats fully reclined into a perfectly horizontal position.  We were issued cozy fleece blankets and pillows.  The only thing missing was a remote control which really would have been handy when you were fully reclined, but my toes provided a suitable alternative, much to Chris’ amusement.

I’m not sure what you call the guy tending to all our needs; I’ll call him our butler although he looked more like an airline pilot in his smart uniform, but he acted in a very suave manner much like I would imagine a butler would act.  (Maybe I’ve been reading too much fiction lately.)   We knew we were in for a treat when our butler offered us an array of candies as soon as we sat down.  They don’t do that on the buses in Ecuador!

Once we were on the road, dinner was served – salad, bread, and a delicious hot meal (beef casserole with mashed potatoes), and of course dessert.  We had our choice of refreshments including wine.  Coffee and biscuits were served after dinner, followed by a shot of Irish whiskey.  We all slept like babies throughout the night. The next morning we were greeted by our ever friendly and obliging butler who served us coffee and a typical South American breakfast of croissants along with white bread and jam. Doesn’t this sound like a civilized way to travel?  Now do you understand why I didn’t want to get off the bus, especially an hour earlier than scheduled?  I’m sure we are ruined for all future bus travel.  It’s just as well we’re leaving South America soon.

The first thing we noticed about Puerto Iguazú was the heat.  The relentless sun beat down on us without a hint of a breeze to offer any relief.  It was almost unbearable.  We were drenched in sweat when we arrived at our hostel, just a short three block walk from the bus station.  But what a delight to discover our hostel (Garden Stone in case you’re looking for a place in Puerto Iguazú ) had a pool – something that saved us each day.  A funny thing about our hostel:  our room was very small and right next to the office so rather noisy, the bed was terribly uncomfortable, the breakfast was mediocre at best – yet we loved our time there and wished we had booked an extra night or two.

Our hostel felt like a mini resort or a friend’s back yard.

Behind the hostel was a lush, tropical garden, complete with hammocks in the shade, garden chairs, the pool, and a lovely open air, common kitchen and dining area. At the end of each day, guests would hang out around the pool, getting to know each other, sharing where they’ve travelled and where they’re going next. It was here we met Russ who was one year into a two year journey.  He had walked the Camino de Santiago last June – something we are planning to do this June. I had never met anyone who had done this walk before so naturally I peppered him with questions about his experience and am now even keener than ever to do this pilgrimage.  Yet, I still can’t answer the simple question, why?  I just feel I want to, maybe even need to do it.

I digress from the main purpose of our trip to Puerto Iguazú which was, of course, to visit Iguazú Falls, the second largest waterfalls in the world (Victoria Falls in South Africa are the largest and Niagara Falls in Canada are a very distant third).  Declared a Natural World Heritage Site by UNESCO in the early 1980’s, these falls are comprised of 275 individual falls spanning three kilometres. cascading up to 70 m into a giant gorge amidst a lush, subtropical rainforest.   Its normal flow is about 1.3 million litres per second.  The falls straddle both Argentina and Brazil; catwalks are built on both sides providing closer (often times mistier and wetter) views of this impressive waterfall. On November 11 of 2011, Iguazú Falls was declared to be one of the seven winners of the New7Wonders of Nature by the New Seven Wonders of the World Foundation.

Igauzu Falls MapMap of the walking trails and boat routes (red dots) on the both sides of the falls.
The island in the middle, San Martin, was closed to the public the day we were
there because a film crew was shooting a movie at that location. 

We spent one day on the Argentine side and one day on the Brazilian side.  We were relieved that our Brazilian Visas passed the scrutiny of the immigration officials.  These were the visas we had obtained in La Paz, Bolivia (doesn’t that seem like ages ago?) and we always wondered, and maybe worried a little if we would have any problems with them since they had been produced so quickly, and in a third world country no less.

Lookout from the Brazilian side of the falls.

Close up of the falls.

Rainbow at Devil’s Throat (La Garganta del Diablo)
as seen from the Argentine side.

An impressive network of walkways often passed right over
the water as it spilled over the very edge of the waterfall. 

The view from the Brazilian side – note that these are just
some of the falls.  It was impossible to capture it all
in a single photo! 

Contrary to what most people say, I think the Brazilian side of the falls was just as stunning as the view from the Argentine side, it just offered a different perpsective.  The Brazilian side offered a panoramic view that helped you appreciate how large these falls were.  From the Argentine side, one feels and hears the thunderous power of the falls more intimately.

Another view from the Brazilian side.

My favourite lookout on the Argentine side.  I felt very small
next to these powerful falls – and I was only standing at the
mid-point – half the falls were still below me. 

Chris and I at the same lookout as above.  Can you believe
we had the lookout to ourselves – well, at least for about
thirty seconds! 

View from the Argentine side from the upper walkway.

A great view from the Brazilian side.  
Devil’s Throat is in the background. 

My favourite view from the Brazilian side plus we got
soaked from the spray which cooled us off nicely. 

Another shot from the Brazilian side.

We succumbed to the lure of a tour offering a grand adventure under the falls.  Very much like the “Maid of the Mist” tour in Niagara Falls, this tour brings you by boat very close to the falls, even dunking you under a few times just for the thrill of it.  This was followed by a quick ride down the river through some fast moving water that they called “exciting rapids” (hardly!) after which we were transported by open truck through eight kilometres of rainforest during which we saw absolutely no wild life, not even a bird (contrary to the brochure’s promises of encounters with exotic wildlife like orangutans).  It was all over in less than an hour.  I think the best part was getting completely drenched and thoroughly cooled off; otherwise, it was really just another cheesy tourist attraction that we got suckered into. When are we going to learn?

No animals on this “jungle tour” which was quite ridiculous
when we encountered wildlife just walking through the park.
A few samples are below.

Video:  Experience the power and force of Iguazú falls with us.


The sights and sounds of Buenos Aires

Our time in Buenos Aires has passed by far too quickly.  We are spending our days wandering around the various neighbourhoods and visiting some of the tourist sites, walking endlessly. I discovered the Reserva Ecologica which is a beautiful ecological park about 2km from our apartment and a perfect place to go for a run.

Speaking of our apartment, we are staying in a 2 bedroom walk up (3rd floor) in San Telmo, the oldest, most historical district in Buenos Aires.  Our apartment could best be described as shabby chic, with a bohemian twist, very reflective of this neighbourhood.  I must admit that as each day passes, both the apartment and neighbourhood look a little more shabby than chic, but that’s the real Buenos Aires experience. One of the best features of the apartment is its location; not only is it in a trendy, hip neighbourhood, but it is within walking distance to most tourist attractions and other equally trendy and interesting neighbourhoods like La Boca and Micro-centro.  While a bit of a hike, Ricoleta and Palermo are also within walking distance, although much easier and faster to reach by subway (when it is running that is – it was closed at least once because of striking workers).

Hanging out in the apartment. We’ve really enjoyed the space
and the location.  Aside from an infestation of ants in the kitchen
(gross!) and a roof that leaks like a sieve when it rains,
it’s been a great place from which to explore the city. 

The Paris of South America

Buenos Aires is aptly nicknamed the Paris of South America with its large, tree-lined boulevards, European style architecture, elite shopping districts and a rich cultural heritage.  This city reminded us of Havana, Cuba, the French District in New Orleans as well as New York City.  Home to hundreds of bookstores (one such gem in our neighbourhood, Walrus Bookstore, is devoted entirely to English literature), public libraries and cultural associations (it is sometimes called “the city of books”), as well as the largest concentration of active theatres in Latin America. I was disappointed to learn that the new season of the Teatro Colón, an internationally rated opera house, was beginning on March 8th, the day after we leave.  The theatre district was reminiscent on a small scale of Times Square and the theatre district in New York City.

Typical city  bus – rather vintage looking!

The Obelisk in the centre of Avenido 9 de Julio – a busy, 20 lane
boulevard (I counted) that was tricky to get across. 

Avenido 9 de Julio, near the Obelisk.

To the side of the Plaza de Mayo, where people gather to demonstrate about
anything and everything.  Since being the scene of the 25 May 1810
revolution that led to independence, the plaza has been a hub of
political life in Argentina. 

Typical architecture.

The Obelisk near the end of the day.

Grafitti is common place.  We actually saw a guy on our
street walking along with a can of black spray paint.
Every now and then he stopped and tagged a wall. 

San Telmo neighbourhood where crumbling old buildings
stood alongside newer ones.  This is the area we stayed in.

The old architecture and tree lined streets and plazas
made walking around the city a real delight. 

View of modern buildings from La Reserva Ecologica.

Waste management and recycling are handled rather
strangely here.  Garbage is put out on the street, and people
rummage through looking for recyclable materials (plastic,
 cardboard, glass).  The garbage is then left in a messy pile as shown above. 

An art exhibit at The Recoleta Cultural Centre.

One of many statues in the Botanical Gardens.

Tango music’s birthplace is in Argentina and reminders of this are everywhere, from the artwork sold in the markets, to the tango dancers on the street corners.

There was no shortage of things to do each day. Perhaps because we had two weeks to explore, or maybe we’ve just become used to a slower pace, we explored the city leisurely. We shifted our clocks to more closely align with the Argentine lifestyle, getting up late and going to bed equally late. A typical day began with us waking up around 10:00 am (unheard of for us!), followed by some coffee and breakfast at the apartment. We lounged around each morning, reading, surfing the net, researching and making bookings for upcoming journeys. We headed out in the early afternoon and usually stopped into a cafe for lunch around 2:30 or 3:00 (very typical time for lunch).  One day, we wandered into a restaurant which we were lucky to find open at 5:00 pm and were welcomed for lunch without question.  That’s damn near dinner time in Canada! Restaurants are usually closed between 4:00 and 8:00 pm when they re-open their doors for the dinner crowd which doesn’t really get going until 10:00 or 11:00 at night. Our usual bedtime was around 1 or 2 in the morning.  Quite remarkable for us!

The local beer on the counter at the apartment. Refreshing!

Enjoying a pint of “chopp” (draft) on a patio in San Telmo.

Eating out on patios reminded us of summertime in the
market in Ottawa. 

Wouldn’t we look good in this little darling?

San Telmo Market:  Every Sunday, just two blocks from the
apartment, La Defensa is closed to traffic and is transformed
into one great, big outdoor market full of antiques,
tacky souvenirs, artwork, jewellery, clothes, etc. 

Soda bottles for sale at the San Telmo market.


The market in La Boca was so touristy,
it looked more like a set for a movie rather than
an authentic neighbourhood.

More of La Boca.  We hated how contrived this neighbourhood was
and didn’t spend much time there as a result.

 Fruterias were on practically every corner and offered
a great selection of fresh fruits and vegetables
at reasonable prices.

Florida street, a popular outdoor pedestrian mall.
This place was bustling during the week but
on the weekend it was dead (reminded me of
Sparks Street in Ottawa).

Professional dog walkers were a common sight.  This
crew sat quietly waiting for the walker to return. 

The entire floor of the Metropolitan Cathedral was done 
in mosaic tiles.  It was absolutely stunning.

La Recoleta Cemetery contains the graves of notable people, including 
Eva Perón, Raúl Alfonsín, and several presidents of Argentina.

Set in 5.5 hectares (14 acres), the cemetery contains 4691 vaults, all above ground,
of which 94 have been declared National Historical Monuments
by the Argentine government and are protected by the state.

Evita’s family tomb.  Her body was finally laid to rest here
after many years of controversy and a period of interment in Spain. 

View inside one of the vaults at the cemetery.

The Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes is home to  a permanent collection
that includes 688 major works and over 12,000 sketches,
fragments, potteries and other minor works.  

A little bit of history

The Casa Rosada (Pink House) is the building from which Eva Peron made her emotional speeches to her adoring fans in the 40’s and early 50’s. Today, it is home to the offices of the current president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, who arrives by helicopter each morning during the week.  I must admit, I had a foggy recollection of who Eva Peron was and felt it worthwhile to research  this iconic figure in more detail.

The President’s Office. It seemed strange that they opened up
her office to the public each weekend even allowing us to take pictures.

Changing of the guard in front of La Casa Rosada.

A visit to the Eva Peron Museum offered a fairly accurate picture of this remarkable and controversial woman’s life story – a modern day rags to riches fairy tale.  In her short life (she died of cancer at the age of 33), she was a successful entertainer (radio, theatre and film) who then met and married a rising political figure, Juan Perón. When her husband became president shortly after their marriage, she decided not to assume the traditional role of a president’s wife. It was at this time that she began to call herself Evita.  She became a tireless advocate for the poor and disadvantaged classes.  A woman ahead of her time, she worked alongside her husband the President, rather than in a more submissive, supporting role.  It was largely due to her efforts that women won the right to vote.  She is an iconic figure in Argentine history and was adored by the masses, and hated by the elite.  Even after her death, controversy continued, and it took many years before her embalmed body was finally put to rest in her family’s vault in Recoleta Cemetery here in Buenos Aires.

Interesting art on the side of an apartment building – a tribute to Evita.

A local milonga just around the corner 

It was midnight last Wednesday night and things were just heating up as the sultry sounds of the live band enticed couples onto the dance floor to tango. Those dancing were of all ages and abilities, a blend of locals and tourists.  It was mesmerizing to watch the language of tango expressed by some of the better dancers, the nuances and subtlety of their moves, the fancy footwork, and the perfect harmony between dancers and the music.  As we sipped our wine, careful not to make eye contact with anyone lest someone might think we wanted to dance (such are the rules of a milonga), I felt transported back in time and place and was completely lost in the magic of the evening.

Video: Professional tango dancers

Video: Amateur tango dancers at a local milonga.

This milonga, a term for a place or an event where tango is danced, was the Argentine experience we were looking for in contrast to the contrived tango shows advertised on the streets and targeted to tourists. Throughout the evening and well into the early morning hours, we listened to the band play several genres of music, in the typical milonga format of four songs in a row followed by a short break. We shared our table with Grisela who had arranged the evening and another couple, Stuart and Vanessa who were from Australia/New Zealand.  And no, in case you were wondering, we did not take to the dance floor.  Porteños, as locals are called, take their tango dancing quite seriously and while dancers of all abilities are welcome on the dance floor, it is definitely not the place for beginners or non-dancers such as ourselves.

Video: The Milonga Band.

Something a little louder and hipper

What a contrast the above-mentioned Milonga was to the show we enjoyed on Monday night at the Ciudad Cultural Konex, which hosts a weekly percussion extravaganza called La Bomba del Tiempo in an old oil factory. In the summer months, the show is held outside except if it rains, as was the case last Monday night, when they quickly reorganize everything onto a stage indoors.  The pre-show (a group of energetic, lively drummers) begins just after 7:00 pm, the main band takes the stage around 8:00 and it all wraps up around 10:00, just in time for dinner, Argentine style.

Although surrounded by a much younger, hipper crowd of both tourists and locals, we had a lot of fun listening to and watching this band perform.  The band’s leader directs the group through a series of intricate hand signals that was quite fascinating to watch.  Somehow we ended up near the front and centre, right in the middle of the party where the wildest dancing was taking place.  This was the closest I had ever come to being in a mosh pit – just crazy!

Videos:  La Bomba de Tiempo

Dining delights

Beef is a mainstay of Argentine cuisine and we were determined to get our fill.  Reputed to be some of the most tender beef in the world, probably because of the grass based diet versus grain based, we ate several steak dinners with varying degrees of success. Without a doubt, the beef is very good, but we find the cuisine in general is quite bland. We had some wonderful meals and some mediocre ones. We generally ate in mid-priced restaurants, with the odd splurge now and then, and the odd cheap dinner of empanadas or pizza to help even things out.  We made a few simple meals in our apartment, but with a kitchen infested with ants, we preferred to eat out most of the time.

On Thursday night we had dinner at an underground supper club, our first such experience, but apparently a movement that is growing in popularity in many countries worldwide, including Canada. Jueves a la mesa promised and delivered a lovely plant based meal void of refined flour and sugar.  An enterprising young American, Meghan opens up her apartment every Thursday night where she cooks a tasty vegetarian meal for 13 paying guests using local, easily available ingredients.  We shared the table last night with a large group of young American university students, and a German flight attendant, Beatrice who lives in the Thuringen area in Germany, just a stone’s throw from where my cousin Detlev lives in Jena. Interestingly, Beatrice’s mother who is now 83 was originally from Königsberg, East Prussia, the same area where my mother is from.   It appears that both our mothers had similar wartime experiences where they fled from their homes, losing everything, and then found refuge in western Germany via ship passage in the Baltic Sea.

We have a couple of more days left in Buenos Aires after which we head north to Iguazu Falls, a 20 hour bus ride away.  Yes, we’re taking the bus, our longest bus ride yet, but we secured top notch seats on a first class bus, so we’re thinking (hoping) it will be bearable.  We’ll be sure to tell you all about it when we get there.

Have you noticed the change I made to our website? I have reorganized some of the information in the left hand column and added a new section called:  My travel diary.  This is where I will share my thoughts about our travels, as opposed to the blog that describes where we have been and what we have done. I have moved the “journey before the journey” pages to this area under the heading “Getting Ready” and I have added some new material about my thoughts on the last six months on the road (Checking in after 6 months).  Enjoy!

 

 

 

Roughing it at Cerro Fitz Roy

Camping means different things to different people.  For some, it means driving the luxury trailer complete with all the conveniences from home to a nice camp ground where setting up is a simple matter of hooking up your electricity and sewer.  For others, you load your car with all your camping gear which may include a few conveniences and comforts from home, drive to your camp ground where you then pitch your tent, unload your gear and crack open an ice cold bottle of beer as you sit back in your comfy lawn chairs.  Our usual camping style is the latter although once we loaded all our gear into a canoe in Algonquin Park and paddled our way to our camp site.  We thought we were really roughing it that time, especially when Chris inadvertently (that’s his story to this day) tipped the canoe while I was in it waiting for him to get in….but that’s a story for another day.

We have just returned from our latest camping/trekking trip in Patagonia, which again was 5 days/4 nights in duration. Our starting point was El Chaltén, a small village located at the base of Cerro Torre and Cerro Fitz Roy, both popular for climbing as well as trekking and camping. El Chaltén is the youngest town in Argentina, built in 1985 to help secure the disputed border with Chile. Today the sole reason for its existence is tourism. It is 220 km north of El Calafate.

We arrived in El Chaltén around noon last Friday and immediately headed out into the mountains to our first camp site, only a couple of hours away at the base of Cerro Fitz Roy where we set up camp and stayed for 2 nights.  We spent the next 2 nights in a camp ground at the base of Cerro Torre.  Spending a couple of nights at each site allowed us the opportunity to do day hikes without our packs, making the trekking much more enjoyable.
The trails in this area were much easier than those at Torres del Paine (perhaps with the exception of the trail to the lookout at Fitz Roy which was pretty tough going) and are very popular as they can be done as day hikes directly from El Chaltén.  So during the day, the trails got a little busy, but early morning and evening we had them virtually to ourselves.  Even so, the number of tourists was far less than those encountered in Torres del Paine.  The camp grounds were pretty sparsely populated with about a dozen or so tents set up each night.

The weather throughout the five days was absolutely perfect for trekking.  With the exception of one day when it was cloudy, we enjoyed clear, sunny skies, comfortable daytime temperatures around 15C along with no wind and no rain. The nights got a little cool, around 5C, except for the last night when there was frost on the ground. And the early mornings were downright chilly, giving us good reason to sleep in each morning.

Typical weather enjoyed each day.

Cerro Torre obscured by clouds on our only cloudy day.

The weather cleared the next day, giving us great 
visibility to Cerro Torre.

While conditions were absolutely perfect for this trek, we took roughing it to a new level, at least for us. Our camping gear was similar to our previous trek in Torres del Paine which included:

  • 1 three-man tent that provided barely enough space for each of us and our packs (I have no idea how three people, especially men, would actually fit into the tent);
  • 2 foam sleeping mats that provided some insulation from the cold ground but absolutely no comfort value;
  • 1 inflatable sleeping mat that we shared – well, actually, Chris used it for the first three nights since he was still complaining about his sore ribs (wasn’t that nice of me) but then damn his ribs, my bruised hips couldn’t take another night on the hard ground so I got the mat on the last night;
  • kitchen gear consisting of one pot, one metal spoon that we borrowed from our hostel (and returned I might add), 2 metal cups, 2 bowls and 2 “sporks” (combination spoon, fork and knife); and,
  • 1 ultra light burner with 2 cannisters of fuel.
We didn’t bring any heavy camera equipment (shocking, I know, but Chris decided the point and shoot camera would be sufficient this time around) and we kept our personal belongings and clothes to the absolute minimum.  Of course, Chris regretted not having his camera with him, and I regretted not bringing my binoculars.  Oh, and a deck of UNO would have helped pass the time away but without our steerage companions from Antarctica around to remind us of the rules, maybe it was just as well not to have the cards.  We had lots of time on our hands, so besides hiking and bird watching, we spent a lot of time talking and reflecting on the past six months and what’s coming ahead.  When we got really desperate to amuse ourselves, we played Rock, Paper, Scissors and a few rounds of hang man in the dirt.  I bet you didn’t know that limiting your words to just 4 characters makes it a rather challenging game?
All our gear and food for 5 days of camping
fit into our packs with lots of room to spare.
There were absolutely no services in this park.  Zero.  Well, unless you count the disgusting (and therefore unusable) outhouse which was basically a shelter around a pit in the ground, conveniently located in each camp ground.  No refugios, no kitchen shelters to protect against the elements. No running water, no sinks,  no toilets.   Nothing. Just us and the great outdoors.  Did I mention how grateful we were that we had perfect weather?  We washed our dishes in the mountain streams using sand to scrub them clean – something I remember doing on canoe trips with my dad when I was a kid. We washed ourselves in the same icy cold streams, careful not to rinse any soap into the clear, glacial waters as these were the same streams we were drinking from.
The first campsite – not too crowded here!
Eating in the “dining room”.
Each night we put all our food in a sack and
hung it from a tree.  The absence of wildlife in the
park was noteworthy, although we had been warned
that mice ran rampant and were a camper’s worse nightmare
as they would chew through anything if they detected food. 
The chef at work:  food was basic, after all we only had one pot and spoon.
Enjoying a hot drink to keep warm.
Dead logs on rocks made a great table.
And so we camped and trekked for 5 glorious days enjoying spectacular scenery, basking in the warmth of the sun, restoring ourselves amidst the serenity and beauty of our surroundings.  It was one of the best camping trips we’ve had, and definitely the roughest camping yet.  Would we do it again? Definitely!
Climbing over boulders to get a better view of a glacier.
The view on the other side of the boulders.
The trails took us through forests such as this one as well
as through marshes and meadows (below)
and up and down rocky hills 
and mountains. 
Of the many birds we saw, this tiny Austral Pygmy Owl
(at least that’s what I think it is) was the most unusual.
We arrived back in El Chaltén on Tuesday morning at 11:00 am with two hours to spare before our bus returned us to El Calafate.  After making a few enquiries at some of the trekking shops in town, we successfully sold all our camping gear (excluding the ultra light burner) for about $80 US.  Considering we paid $110 US for the gear and camped for a total of 8 nights, I think we did quite well.

View of Cerro Fitz Roy from the lookout.  Well worth
the difficult one hour climb to the top. 

View of Cerro Torre as we were leaving on the last day, just before
the camera’s battery died.  How’s that for timing! 

Torres del Paine in all its glory and ferocity

Our hopes for hiking the “O” circuit in Torres del Paine were immediately dashed upon arrival at the park entrance when a park ranger informed us that the north west trail near the infamous Gordon Pass was covered in knee-deep snow and another blizzard was heading that way in just three days – exactly the time we would be reaching that part of the trail.  Reluctantly we adjusted our plans and decided to hike the “W” trail instead which was easily done in six days.  We had sufficient supplies for eight days of trekking, so we could take our time and enjoy ourselves.  In the end, we covered a little more than half the “W” in 5 days/4 nights.

Map of the trail:  Red line represents the “W”.
The circuit, also known as the “O”, includes the red and grey lines.

We arrived in the park around noon and set out shortly thereafter towards Campemento Torres which was only 1.5 hours away according to our map; this was the right arm of the “W” in the map above.  Our spirits were high in spite of our heavy packs but as the trail to Camp Torres steepened, my body resisted heartily.  My hips screamed in pain as we climbed the difficult trail.  Chris grumbled behind me – this was going to be a long eight days.  At least the weather was great – sunny with some clouds, a little bit of wind, and good hiking temperatures, around 18C.  Three hours later we arrived at the free camp, a lovely spot nestled in the trees about a 30 minute trek from the infamous “Towers”.  We quickly learned the estimated times on our map did not correspond with our hiking pace, not even close.

After setting up our little tent, and having lunch, we decided to trek up to the “Towers” while the weather was good.  The steep climb, probably the hardest on the entire trail, was a lot easier without our packs on our backs.  We were rewarded at the top with good visibility and a clear view of the “Towers”.   The wind had picked up when we were at the top and I was happy to have brought my bright yellow Quark expedition shell from our Antarctica cruise.  I nestled in amongst some boulders for protection and enjoyed the scenery for a while.

The “Towers” in Torres del Paine

That night, the wind howled through the trees above us, but we were well protected in the forest and our tent held up well.  It must have dipped to a few degrees above zero during the night, and I was cold in my sleeping bag in the early morning hours.  My parka doubled up as blanket over my lower extremities with my feet tucked into the hood, and my fleece kept my upper torso toasty.

We had a long day of trekking ahead of us on Day 2: 1.5 hrs back down the way we had come, and then 4 hrs west to the next camp, at Refugio Cuernos.  The winds were stronger as we began our trek down the mountain side, causing us to stop more than once to let the winds abate rather than risk being blown off the moutain side.

As we veered west, the terrain changed to an easier, hilly path that was quite enjoyable.  Our muscles were still resisting and our packs still felt heavy but I was comforted with the knowledge that our packs would lighten as we consumed food each day; we just had to resist the urge to hasten the process by eating more than the rations allotted for the day.

Along the trail we played “cat and mouse” with a few other younger couples who were heading in the same direction.  A camaraderie formed amongst us so that by the time we reached our first daunting river crossing, we worked together to figure out the best way to cross it. I’m not talking small streams that you cross in a couple of steps.  These were at least 20 feet across, with fast moving water rushing down with no clear way to navigate across.  For one such river, Chris and I changed into our hiking sandals, rolled our pants past our knees, and carefully walked through the frigid, ankle-deep glacier water.  We did quite well until the last river crossing.  After watching several people, Chris included, cautiously walk across large rocks, I followed suit.  At the last rock, a combination of legs that were too short and a strong, untimely gust of wind threw me off balance so that I missed the rock ahead and fell forward face first.  Luckily, I had my walking poles to brace my fall, leaning most of my weight into my left pole and angling my body so that I landed on my stomach on the large rock ahead, with both the camera bag which dangled from my hip and my back pack safely out of the water.  The only wounds incurred were my pride and my left walking pole that snapped in two under the force of the fall.  I counted myself lucky as it could have been a much worse outcome.

I was in good spirits all day, in spite of the heavy pack and the river fall.  The scenery was beautiful in every direction, the trail was manageable, and the weather was beautiful – sunny, around 18C, still windy but not like the early morning gusts on the mountain side.  But when we reached a sign that indicated we were only half way to the camp when I thought we were almost there, I hit a low, feeling like it was never going to end.  And then it got worse, much worse.

Out of nowhere, the winds picked up.  Before we knew it, we were dealing with gale force gusts of wind that literally knocked you off your feet.  And these gusts were unpredictable, coming at you suddenly, from any direction.  At this point, the trail hugged the side of a mountain, with a steep drop off  to the lake hundreds of feet below.  We started to recognize when a gust was coming – we could see the wind whipping up the waves in the lake below, next we heard the howl and then the wind would hit with a vengeance, soaking us with the mist from the lake.  We were exposed on this part of the trail and there was no where to seek shelter so we would all crouch low on the trail, sometimes on our stomachs and grab anything within our reach, tree roots or strong branches, hanging on literally for dear life so as not to be blown off the trail.  One guy ahead of us, was lifted off his feet and blown ten feet off the trail, luckily into some bushes and not down the side of a cliff.  Chris got thrown roughly against some rocks, bruising his arm, leg and a couple of ribs.  His camera got pretty banged up too.  It was frightening and slow going as we struggled against this wind for about three hours.  This was our first taste of the notorious Patagonia winds.

We arrived at Refugio Cuernos at around 4:30 pm, completely exhausted.  Luckily we found one of the last camp sites and somehow managed to set up our tent under these ferocious winds.  Tents were snapping in two, and blowing away all around us.  We weighted our tent down with six large boulders – as heavy as we could carry – inside the tent.  We piled boulders all round the tent pegs on the outside. We then huddled inside our tent wondering what the night would bring.  We were grateful for the military dinners provided to us by our B&B hosts, a  surprisingly tasty beef stew.  It was like magic watching the pouches heat up in a special plastic bag to which we had added a few tablespoons of cold water.  We would have gone hungry that night if we didn’t have these emergency provisions.  Our tent swooshed and swooned as the wind howled and swirled around us but it stayed in one piece and kept us dry even though it rained hard all night.

Others were not so lucky.  At around midnight, as we made our way to the bathroom, we were shocked to find about 30 people huddled next to the Refugio exposed to the elements; either their tents had collapsed, blown away, or there were simply no more sites available upon which to pitch a tent.  We were angered that the Refugio refused to allow this overflow into the building – there was plenty of space to make temporary beds on the dining room floor yet these unfortunate souls were locked out and had no option but to endure the night outdoors.

Since the next open camp site was more than 8 hours away, we decided to stay at Refugio Cuernos for two nights so that we could spend a day hiking into the French Valley (the middle arm of the “W”), reputed to be one of the prettiest spots in the park.  Amazingly, Day 3 was completely still, the lake as flat as a pancake, not even a ripple on the lake that had deluged us just the day before.  And it was stinking hot and humid. What crazy Patagonian weather. It took us over 2 hours to get to the French Valley even without our packs, and then we headed up the valley, but we didn’t get too far; I think we were still quite fatigued from the previous day.  During this hike, we learned that Campemento Italiano, at the base of the French Valley, was now open so that would be our destination on Day 4 – an easy 2 hour hike retracing our steps back to the French Valley.

Heading into the French Valley.  The glacier behind us
was continuously calving, causing thunderous roars and sending
avalanches of snow down the mountain side.  

Refreshing, icy cold water was readily available from the mountain streams.
The water was crystal clear, no need to treat or filter. 

That water was cold!

Preparing a pasta dinner at Refugio Cuernos on Day 3.
We splurged for a bottle of wine that night too! 

Day 4 was another beautiful day, a little cooler, but still clear and sunny and a mild breeze, just enough to cool us off.  I was feeling great physically, my body was no longer resisting the trek, and I was feeling very energetic and strong.  My pack was much more manageable too, probably five pounds lighter by now. We made great time to Campemento Italiano (less than two hours) where we left our stuff (we weren’t allowed to set up until after 5:00 pm) and headed back up the French Valley, this time reaching the look out which offered gorgeous views.  The weather was once again changing and we could see rain clouds rolling in so we decided to make our way back to camp to set up before the rain hit. This was my favourite camp ground, nestled in the trees, alongside a raging river.

At the lookout in the French Valley.

Steep trail heading up the French Valley.

Campemento Italiano: My favourite campsite
(ours is the blue tent to the left).

It got really cold that night, probably close to zero.  We wore all our clothes including hat and mitts to keep ourselves warm.  It rained that night, but again our tent kept us dry.  Chris had a rough night, finding it difficult to breathe deeply with his bruised rib. 

There was a chill in the air the next day, our fifth day on the trail.  The plan was to trek 6 hours to Refugio Gray, or the camp ground 1 hour beyond if we had the energy.

Refugio Pehoe in the distance surrounded by a charred landscape.

First we would pass Refugio Pehoe which was also the location to catch the catamaran out of the park. There was no camping allowed here as this area was completely destroyed from the recent fires. The fire came within a meter of the Refugio but the main building was miraculously spared.

 

 

 

It was surprising to see pockets of green vegetation
that had somehow been spared the ravages of the fire.

A distinct line where the fire stopped.

It was sobering as we entered the scorched forest, eerily still, nothing but charred skeletons of trees remaining.  The smell of burnt wood permeated the air.  It was really sad to see the devastation caused by careless human actions.

This was supposed to be an easy hike to Refugio Pehoe, but the wind was picking up again and it was biting cold.  As we reached the Refugio, walking into steady 50 km winds that were pelting us with dirt and charred debris, we saw the 12:30 catamaran heading into shore.

The thought of hiking 4-5 more hours into this biting wind through a scorched forest suddenly lost its appeal to both of us.  When I suggested perhaps we should call it a day and catch the catamaran, Chris agreed wholeheartedly, and I think he was secretly relieved that I didn’t want to push on.  And so concluded our 5 day, 4 night trek through Torres del Paine.

Although we didn’t stay in the park as long as we intended, I was proud of what we accomplished especially considering this was our first trekking experience.  We learned a lot for next time – the importance of keeping our packs as light as possible (forget the binoculars and the video camera), what food works best (we loved the cured salami that we snacked on for the first 2 days),  and generally what we’re capable of (we are old and we are slow).   This park lived up to its reputation for gorgeous scenery, but I was a little put off by how busy the trail was and how congested the camp grounds were at night.  There seemed to be a lot of confusion and mis-information within the park as to what was open, etc. but that may have been a by-product of the forest fires and not truly reflective of how the park is normally run.  I think we’re spoiled in Canada with all the wide open spaces we can enjoy and the beautiful, well run national and provincial parks at our disposal.

We’ve been back in our cozy B&B for a few days, resting up, having our laundry done and getting ourselves organized for our next trekking adventure to Fitz Roy Mountain (Cerro Fitz Roy), located in Parque National Los Glaciares (on the Argentine side of Patagonia). We’re travelling back to El Calafate today where we’ll spend the night and then head out to El Chalten tomorrow where we will begin our next trek. So we’ll be offline again for about a week.  Next stop is Buenos Aires where we will stay in an apartment for two weeks. We’re looking forward to returning to the warmth and sunshine (it was 25C in BA today).

Video:  Newbies Trekking in Torres del Paine
 

Patagonia here we come

At the end of our Antarctica cruise last Wednesday, we flew to El Calafate because this was the fastest, most direct way to get to Puerto Natales which is where we would get ourselves organized for our big trek in Torres del Paine.  We were pretty tired after our cruise and needed a few days to just chill and get caught up on our blog.

We spent four nights at Hosteria Patagonia which was the most inhospitable accommodations we have endured thus far.  The establishment was quite new and the rooms were spacious and comfortable enough, and the place was absolutely spotless (just trying to be fair). The problem was in the way they ran the place – more like a prison camp than a hostel – rules for everything, such as forbidden to open the fridge without authorization.  I was chastised repeatedly (in Spanish of course) for all my transgressions – going into the kitchen to clean my dirty dishes (I know, the nerve of me), for putting a sweater on a railing to dry, for using the microwave without permission, etc. etc.  Ah well, the town was booked solid, so moving wasn’t an option.  We sucked it up, what else can you do?

Hosteria Patagonia looked good on the outside,
and even the inside too; too bad it was so unwelcoming.
Notice the two beautiful lavender bushes in front of me –
lavender grows prolifically here in this inhospitable climate. 

During the four days we spent in El Calafate we did a couple of interesting activities, namely, a “mini trekking” tour to Perito Moreno Glacier and a visit to the recently opened Glaciarium, a museum about glaciers.  We just couldn’t resist visiting the world’s largest reserve of fresh water!

The mini-trekking tour included transportation to Perito Moreno Glacier which is located in Los Glaciares National Park. We learned that this was one of a very few number of glaciers in the world that maintained its size over the years – it extends and contracts but remains a fairly constant size. The terminus of the Perito Moreno Glacier is 5 kilometres (3 mi) wide, with an average height of 74 m (240 ft) above the surface of the water of Lake Argentino. It has a total ice depth of 170 metres (558 ft).  This glacier is renowned for the rupture that occurs every few years.  It is due for another rupture at any time.  Click here if you’re curious about what the rupture is all about.

In the morning we walked along the walkways to observe the north end of the glacier. Every now and then we would hear an explosion as the glacier calved and huge chunks of ice cascaded to the lake below.  In the afternoon, we took a boat ride along the south face and then, after lunch, hiked with crampons for a couple of hours on the glacier itself. We continued to hear the glacier and see it calve several more times.  It was an amazing experience.

(Coming Soon) Video:  Walking on a glacier with crampons.

The Glaciarium Museum was very modern and the exhibits were well presented.  Since all exhibits and videos were offered in both Spanish and English, we learned a lot more about glaciers during the couple of hours we spent there. Located in an open field a few kilometres outside of town, the building rattled and shook under the force of the Patagonian wind – I thought the whole thing was sure to collapse at any moment.

We arrived in Puerto Natales on Sunday afternoon by bus, passing through the Argentina/Chile border once again without any problems.  We lucked in on our accommodations this time; a lovely B&B called Pire Mapu Cottage.  It is a little two bedroom guest house with two bathrooms, common kitchen and living area.  The owner, Brendon (an ex-Brit) and his wife, Fabiana (who is Chilean), have completely and lovingly renovated this house and just opened it up for business this season.  It is a charming home, with so much attention to detail that you feel like you’re visiting a friend’s cottage.  They have thought of everything to make their guests feel comfortable and at home, such as a well equipped kitchen, flat screen tv’s (with english stations) hanging on the walls of each bedroom, the fluffiest towels in South America, home baked cookies and tea to greet you. I could go on and on.  As soon as we stepped into the house, we booked a third night on the spot.  And we were tempted to stay even longer.

The service they offer is impeccable.  They picked us up at the bus station and bent over backwards making sure all our needs were taken care of throughout our three night stay.  For example, when Chris asked where he could find a barber in town, they insisted on driving us to the hair salon and Fabiana served as translator to explain the new hairdo Chris wanted.  I think he looks awfully cute in his new “do”.

Our cottage mates on the first night were a couple of ladies from the US (Deb and Lisa) who were heading out early in the morning to go trekking in Torres del Paine for two nights.  We really hit it off with them and decided to collaborate on dinner that night.  Well, actually they did all the grocery shopping and pretty much most of the cooking; Chris did the clean up.  I didn’t do a heck of a lot, but nobody seemed to mind.  We had a wonderful meal – those girls know how to cook – and great conversation over three bottles of Chilean wine.  We talked into the wee hours of the morning.  They were so relaxed about their trek; this was their fourth week of trekking in various parts of Patagonia so I guess they were pretty organized (unlike us).

Breaking bread (and drinking wine) with new friends.

The next night we had the cottage to ourselves, with the owners popping in now and then to check if we needed anything.  One more comment about the cottage – they served one of the best breakfasts we’ve enjoyed thus far in South America.  Home made bread, eggs, ham, cheese, juice, two types of brewed coffee, and toast.  It kept us going til late in the afternoon.

Typical breakfast at Pire Mapu with the
hosts at work in the kitchen behind me.

We have spent the last couple of days still working on the blog (I hate it when we get behind because it is so much work to get caught up) and getting ourselves organized for our big trek.  We have decided to do the “Circuit” which is an 8-day trek – on our own, no guide or group.  Not only did we not have any camping equipment with us, we have never done this kind of camping before.  We’ve camped a lot, but always car camping.  I have to admit, I’m a little nervous – especially with a very bad weather forecast for the next few days (blizzards and very high winds – yikes!).  I’m most perplexed about the food we need to bring.  With regards to the camping equipment, we had planned on renting it all here in town until we ran into a couple of Finnish lads who were selling all of their equipment on a street corner. They had bought it all two weeks earlier in Ushuaia and were now finished with their camping trip.  We bought the whole kit and caboodle – tent, sleeping bags and sleeping mats – for $100.  All we needed was the kitchen equipment. Now we’ll be able to do a couple of more hiking/camping trips in El Chalten and Bariloche before heading to Buenos Aires – that assumes, of course, we survive this one.

Busy blogging, and organizing the trek,
while enjoying home made beef stew.

This afternoon we heard the weather forecast for the next few days:  Bad.  Very bad.  And late this afternoon guess who showed up at the cottage?  Deb and Lisa returned one day early because the weather was so bad.  So who knows, we may be back sooner than we planned.

Optimistically, we’ll be off-line again for the next 8-9 days.  Wish us luck – I’m sure we’re going to need it!  Before I sign off, just a heads up that we’re almost finished Part 3 of the Antarctica post but I’m afraid we ran out of time and it will have to wait until we get back.  Chao!

Eight days of trekking food.
It was a challenge finding the right food for a trek here
so you just had to be creative when you don’t find things
like protein bars or healthy granola bars.  Chris loved
the improvisation with the snickers bars 🙂 

 

We’re at the end of the world in Ushuaia

Last Sunday we arrived in Ushuaia, the southern most city of South America nicknamed “the end of the world”.  This slogan is well used throughout the city, appearing on clothing, menus, tourist attractions, road signs, etc.

It took about ten hours by bus to travel from Punta Arenas.  While it was a long trip to take on a bus with regular seats (no camas or semi-camas), the scenery made the daytime trip worthwhile.  For many miles, the land was as flat as a pancake, with not a single tree in sight.  Large sheep ranches called “estancias” occupied the land, making me think that this might be what the Australian outback looks like (I’ll let you know if this is true next year when we travel there 🙂

As we approached Ushuaia, the landscape changed quite abruptly; the flat plains in Chile turned into rolling hills which then became snow-capped mountains. This was our first up-close glimpse of the Patagonia mountain range and we were duly impressed.  We passed through the Chile – Argentinian border easily; our bus driver collected our passports and we waited while he got them all stamped, both the exit stamp from Chile and the entry stamp into Argentina.  Not much in the way of security as the immigration/customs officials didn’t even see our faces or our baggage.

Ushuaia, a former penal colony, is a sizeable city with a population close to 60,000. The main economic activities of this region are fishing, natural gas and oil extraction, sheep farming and eco-tourism.  It has a very busy port servicing both shipping vessels and cruises.  This is summer time in Ushuaia and the peak of the tourist season and everything was priced accordingly, much to our dismay. The streets were crowded with tourists, and accommodations were filled to capacity, making it very difficult to secure a bed to sleep in. This city reminded us of Banff, especially the main street with lots of expensive clothing stores, souvenir shops, and restaurants.  It had a vacation resort feel to the place.

The town with Martial Glacier in the background.

Downtown Ushuaia

The Dubliln Irish Pub that did not serve Guinness – blasphemy!

Outside view of the Dublin Pub – one of the few
restaurants with reasonable prices.  The homemade
draft was hit or miss too. 

Argentinians love their meat.  A BBQ spit was a common
sight in the front window of restaurants.  We sampled
this type of cuisine at an all you can eat buffet at
La Estancia one night.  The meat was  good (lamb and beef) 
but the rest of the food was mediocre. 

Throughout the week, we stayed in three different places out of necessity. First we stayed at the Drake Hostel which didn’t overly impress us, especially the fact that there was no housekeeping during the three days we were there.  Next was a night in a private home, a neighbour of the bed and breakfast, La Maison de Ushaia, where we spent our last two nights. The private home gave us a bed to sleep in, but the home reminded me of someone who had a serious hoarding issue.  I was glad it was only one night.  The bed and breakfast was lovely although the entire household (4 generations of women) was getting over nasty colds which we hope we don’t catch.  We’re not big fans of bed and breakfasts mainly because of the lack of privacy and this one was no exception.  Still, the owner’s daughter, Soulange, went out of her way to make us feel comfortable, and to give information about things to do and where to eat.  She even satisfied Chris’ curiosity about ritual of matte when she showed us how this peculiar tea is prepared and then how the communal cup is passed around the table.  It’s a very common Argentinian ritual, reminding me of the British and their afternoon tea.

Bundled up down at the port.  It was interesting watching the ships come
and go each day – both the large cruise ships making a port of call in Ushuaia and
the much smaller Antarctica expedition ships beginning their cruises from here. 

So many shipping containers.

We were quite taken aback by the ridiculous prices being extorted from tourists. Here’s some examples: $25US for two small loads of laundry; $45US per person to hike in the Tierra del Fuego National Park (transportation and park entrance fee), $4US for a thimble full of coffee, $12US for breakfast (coffee, juice and toast) , $12US for half a ham and cheese sandwich, $75US and up for a hostel room (double with shared bathroom).  Just for the fun of it, Chris priced his camera in a local store and was appalled to see it going for just shy of twice the Canadian retail price.

Brilliant lupins of every imaginable colour grow in abundance.

One of the prettiest houses and gardens we saw in town,
just a few houses down from our B&B. 

We came to Ushuaia with the desire to find a last minute deal on a 10 or 11 day cruise to Antarctica. These cruises are ridiculously priced and even the last minute prices are outrageous in our view.  But, we rationalized the expense thinking that it was unlikely we would ever be here again, and we both really wanted to see Antarctica.  So when we arrived, the first order of business was to find a cruise.  I had already sent out about a dozen or so emails a few days earlier to tour agencies in Ushuaia enquiring about availability on upcoming ships.  We were discouraged to learn that all the 10-11 day cruises for the next three weeks were completely filled and most tour companies had waiting lists of 5-6 people for each of these ships. It wasn’t looking good.

We then learned that there were some deals on two ships leaving this week but they had longer itineraries (19 days) which included stops on the Falkland Islands, Georgia Islands and Antarctica.  Of course, longer cruises means larger price tags.  We debated our options – long cruise leaving this week, short cruise leaving in 3 weeks, or no cruise at all.  In the end, we booked ourselves on the 112-passenger Sea Spirit with Quark Expeditions for a 19 day cruise.  All week, I’ve been giddy with anticipation for this cruise. We leave tomorrow – hopefully we have some internet access so I can keep the blog up to date – otherwise you’ll hear from us in about 3 weeks.


This Gap cruise left yesterday – this was the other 
19 day cruise available this week.  Hope we made the right choice. 

The Star Princess cruise ship – look at the size difference
compared to the Gap expedition ship to the right.  The
large cruise ships don’t stop in Antarctica for
environmental reasons – they just pass by it.

It’s a busy shipping port too. 

We again experienced the kindness of strangers here in Ushuaia.  Alicia was the agent through whom we negotiated our cruise.  When we met her at her home mid-week to finalize the paperwork, we got to know her story a little over a bottle of Argentinian wine.  We were immediately impressed with how she came to Ushuaia ten years ago and built up her business and her reputation from scratch. She’s a real go-getter, very genuine, modest and down to earth. We found her to be inspiring.  I think she was equally impressed with our story.  It’s funny how you just hit it off with some people.  Well, after completing the paperwork, and the first bottle of wine, she spontaneously invited us to stay for dinner. As she prepared the steak, and I made a salad, Chris cracked open the second bottle of wine.  It was our first home made dinner, in somebody’s home since we left Canada. We really appreciated her hospitality.

Chris and Alicia in her kitchen at dinner time.

Besides securing the cruise, and draining our bank account, we’ve just been hanging around in Ushuaia this week, taking it easy and getting to know the town and area a little bit. One day we hiked to Martial Glacier which gave us another good work out.  The hike wasn’t particularly challenging or strenuous, but it was all up hill and then down hill as we were climbing yet another mountain.  We felt our legs for a few days afterwards.  At the glacier, we were rewarded with spectacular views of Ushuaia and the Beagle Channel far below as well as the surrounding rugged mountains.  Once again, we had a canine companion all the way up and all the way down….he was a cute mutt that reminded me of a dog my brother David once had. I don’t know what it is, but we seem to attract dogs when we go hiking. There were plenty of other people on the trail, but this dog singled us out and remained with us for our entire hike.  Of course, we shared our lunch with him – so maybe he just knew how to pick ’em.

On the way up to the glacier, in the distance.

Still not there….the hard part was yet to come.

We reached the snow, but the glacier was still above us.

Checking out the view of the Beagle Channel and Ushuaia below.

Where’s Christina?  At the glacier, with our new canine friend.

Having a bite to eat.  How could we resist sharing our lunch
with our polite and patient friend? 

Can you believe this view?

Our faithful guide leading the way up.

Typical mountain flora clinging to the rocks.

Another day, we went to Playa Larga, a lovely beach  along the Beagle Channel about 4 km east of town. We took the local bus there, but since we didn’t think to ask about getting back, we couldn’t figure out where the bus stop was and had to walk most of the way back into town (after already hiking for 3 hours) until we were able to flag down a taxi.  Mental note:  ask for directions for both ways next time!

Playa Larga – can you see the helicopter that passed by?

Chris taking a photo of a gray fox (below).

This gray fox was the only animal we saw on all our hikes.

Photographer at work but what has captured his rapt attention?
Before I answer I must tell you a story.  A few years ago, we were having dinner with our old neighbours Chris and Nancy when my Chris shared a pet peeve with us:  why do people leave dirty diapers lying around all over the place? All three of us looked at Chris like he was nuts. We had no idea what he was talking about. But then, the next time we got together, Nancy and her Chris both remarked how they too were now seeing dirty diapers everywhere.  And even I have to admit, I too have seen many dirty diapers discarded in the strangest of places every since Chris alerted me to this phenomenon. Throughout South America, we have seen plenty of dirty diapers but I think the weirdest place was in Quito, Ecuador where we noticed a dirty diaper wedged in a tree. Who does that?? Of course, Chris now takes a picture every time he sees a dirty diaper in a weird place and sends it to our friends. Sure enough, while walking along this beach, we saw yet another dirty diaper on the ground.  There was no other garbage anywhere on the beach – just a single, dirty diaper.

 Chris takes his dirty diaper pictures quite seriously as you can see.  Who knows, maybe Chris will compile a coffee table book on the subject – anyone have any suggestions for a title?

View of Ushuaia from the beach.

Which direction does the wind blow?

Hiking along the shores of the Beagle Channel, one of
three navigable passages around South America between
the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans.  The other two are
the Straits of Magellan and the Drake Passage.

 Enjoying the moment, and the view!

Moss-like plant growing on the rocks near the shore.

Finally, we spent an afternoon hiking in Tierra del Fuego National Park, the southern most national park in the world.  Once we recovered from the shock of the cost of getting there (85 pesos each, about $21.25US) and the daily park entrance fee (also 85 pesos each), we did enjoy hiking the Costera trail that followed the coastline of the Beagle Channel for about 8 km.  We saw some beautiful and varied scenery of majestic, snow-capped mountains, dense forest, pretty meadows and rugged beaches.

The weather in Ushuaia is quite unpredictable.  We were surprised with the mild temperatures when we arrived, probably mid-teens during the day.  Most days have been a mix of sun and cloud, some days more windy than others.  The air is cool so when the sun is not out and the wind picks up, it’s time to put on the wooly hat and mitts, and add a layer or two.  When hiking, we were always prepared for any type of weather and it was not uncommon to strip down to our t-shirts only to bundle ourselves up with fleece, windbreaker, hats and gloves all within a couple of hours.  It rained hard one night, and we’ve had some very slight, barely noticeable sprinklings of rain during the day.  Again, we’ve been lucky as far as the weather is concerned.  We’re also enjoying the long days.  As I finish off this post at 10:45 pm, the sun is just starting to set.  It seems our bodies have adjusted accordingly and we are going to bed much later and sleeping in each morning until around 9:00 which is quite late for us.  It’s strange how daylight affects your natural rhythms.  We’re even eating dinner later, 9:00 or later each night.  But that may just be because we’re in Argentina where many restaurants close after lunch and don’t even open until 8:00 at night.

Tomorrow we board the Sea Spirit and we’re off to sea for 19 days of adventure.  I hope we have calm seas – well maybe one storm just to see what it’s like – and clear weather.

Sea SpiritSea Spirit with Quark Expeditions
http://www.quarkexpeditions.com/sea-spirit 

 

 

 

 

 

Isla Magdalena: Home to 120,000 Magellanic penguins

I wanted to be wowed, and Isla Magdalena delivered with its breeding colony of more than 120,000 Magellanic penguins.  This small, uninhabited island lies inside the infamous and important Magellan Strait at the southern end of South America, at the tail end of Patagonia and just north of Antarctica. Not only was I impressed by the sight and sounds of this magnificent penguin colony, I felt humbled by the rugged beauty surrounding me and very privileged to be a spectator to mother nature’s wonders. The rawness of the landscape, the sweep of the sea, the softly undulating hills, and the thousands of penguins made it a wonderous sight.

The Magellanic penguin is named after the 16th-century Portuguese explorer, Ferdinand Magellan who circumnavigated the world.  These penguins are found only in southern South America and the Falkland Islands. It’s a medium-size penguin with a black back, a white stomach, and two distinctive black bands between the head and chest.  Click here to learn more about this amazing bird.

In 1983, Isla Magdalena was declared a protected national monument, Los Pingüinos Natural Monument, and its only occupants are park rangers there to protect and monitor the penguin population, as well as educate the human visitors who drop in.

As we reached the island late in the afternoon, after 2 hours at sea, we were astonished by the sheer number of penguins on this island. Everywhere you looked, there were penguins. At this time of year, the eggs have all hatched and the chicks are about 6 weeks old – cute, cuddly fur balls that you just wanted to pet and take home with you.  Each adult pair had two chicks.  Nests were dug into the side of the sandy hills and offered safe refuge and shelter for these little families. Penguins are quite territorial and possessive about their nest, shooing away any non-family member who dared to venture too close, including us humans. I even had my ankles pecked as I inadvertently got too close to a nest taking a picture of another family close by.

The cacophony on the hills was deafening but we learned that all this noisy barking served a purpose: penguins identified each other audibly which makes sense when you think about it since they all look alike. How else are they going to find their family when they come home after a day of fishing if not to yell out, Mary, where are you?  Turns out, they recognize each other by their bark!

Lots of penguins (slide show)
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As we walked along the marked pathway, penguins were everywhere.  They waddled in front of us, behind us, beside us, quite indifferent to our human presence.  We were enthralled by their antics including hillside brawls, personal grooming, and open displays of affection.  Now this is an island worthy of a top ten rating for places to see before you die…at least in my humble opinion.

Come for a walk through the penguin colony (video)