Ushuaia: the very end of the world (not really!)

(written in Hostel Patagonia Pais, Ushuaia, Argentina. April 2010)

Well, 5 months and 22 days after I left Mexico I made it to the southernmost city on the planet, the end of the world (only later I found out that it wasn’t!) and the turning point of my Latin American loop. In a few days I will be starting to make my way back home.

Sandra and I arrived in Ushuaia at 7pm after a 12h bus ride from Chile. We made a few very windy stops, obeying immigration rules and arrived in the dark. As soon as we got off the bus (we saw them coming before we even stepped out) we got attacked by hostel touts loudly advertising their joints. One lady was particularly loud offering a promo price and a free transfer. We didn’t have a hostel in mind, the price was reasonable, and we really didn’t feel like walking so we gladly accepted. We didn’t know what we had gotten ourselves into but it turned out to be a lovely place – warm, cozy, welcoming. In fact it was so inviting that I stayed longer than I thought.

As soon as we walked in we bumped into Rodolfo, a hearty Argentinian we have been bumping into since the 33h bus ride on Ruta 40. He always made us feel so good, gleaming, hugging, kissing us everytime he saw us. One of those people who make you feel so wanted and welcome, so comfortable, relaxed. That first night as the hostel he was also our chef in charge of the asado. We had delicious, collective dinner initiated by a group of lovely French folks. Every morning and every evening we ate together around a long kitchen table. Very nice!

Tonight (April 10, 10) we are celebrating a Canadian girl’s birthday. It is also a Spanish guy’s birthday so it is going to be a big party. I have been conserving my energy by doing nothing all day. We have already chopped all the salad veggies and the grill is burning.

But let me take you back to our first day here. We arranged a boat trip through the Beagle Canal and soon after breakfast we were on our way to the docks. There were only five of us on the small boat which allowed for plenty of space and un-blocked picture taking. Our first stop was a small island inhabited by a cormorant colony. Two in fact. Living not so peacefully. Hundreds of black and white penguin like birds perched on the rocks, taking in the sun. It is one thing reading about them in encyclopedias and another seeing them with your own eyes. We then headed to Isla de los Lobos which was by far the highlight of the trip. We saw the sea lions. Two different species as a matter of fact. They were so cute, so big, so fat and lazy. So lovely! We saw some of them swimming in the water close to the boat, others just spread out on the warm rocks. We saw some youngsters, some male lions fighting. It was amazing!

– Did you see that one over there? – I’d ask Sandra. Oh! Wow! Did you see that?! Oh! Look! It is flapping its tale.
– Look at the baby over there – Sandra would say. Did you take a picture of that one?

The guide was explaining something but we were too excited to hear anything. We wanted to take a picture of every cute face, every fat body, every flapping tale, and every interaction. The only problem is that we didn’t spend too much time there or maybe we did but it just flew by. In any case we could have watched them all day.
We then saw the lighthouse at the end of the world, a famous postcard image and then headed to another island inhabited by the yamanas (local indigenous tribe) in the past. Let me share their story with you.

The yamanas inhabited Tierra del Fuego and were between 1.47m (women) and 1.55m (men) tall, with short legs and long arms. Well adapted to their unforgiving surroundings. They walked around naked, protecting themselves from the cold by covering their bodies with animal fat and making fires. They would have a fire in their hut as well as on their canoe to keep them warm while fishing, etc. They lived in very basic huts made of branches and leaves and fed on sea lions, whales (if lucky!), and other seafood. Very idyllic!

When the European conquerors came they saw the fires of the yamanas and named this new land Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire). But that is all the good they did. In an attempt to civilize the locals they gave those blankets and clothes. Thos of course got dirty and brought diseases previously unknown to the yamanas. Also when they got wet, the locals caught colds and died. The conquistadors also took some of them to European zoos and exhibited them as animals. Unforgivable. In a very short period of time the yamanas were almost completely extinct. Today there is only one pure blooded yamana left, an old lady living in Puerto Williams, the southernmost town of Chile. Her children are all mestizo – mixed blood.

When you think about it, Westerners have brought a lot of pain to various parts of the world and have initiated many shameful acts such as slavery. I don’t understand why can’t they, WE, just mind our own business and appreciate different culture just as it is. It seems so easy…

Our guide showed us a spot where there was a hut before and it was surrounded by little hills of what turned out to be rubbish. They build these mini mountains to protect themselves against the wind. We dug into one of them and saw that it contained mainly ash,bones and sea shells. All of this happened not so long ago. The yamanas lived in the 1800s. This makes what the Europeans did even more inexcusable.

We walked around the island, talking about the vegetation. Our guide told us about the Calafate berry, a fruit typical to Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The legend says that if you eat the fruit you will return. I have been making sure to eat my Calafate berries.
On the way back to town we got some artisanal beer which was the only thing missing to complete our sunny cruise.

We spent the afternoon strolling up and down the main street, checking out the shops. And we also spent a considerable amount of time in a local café, enjoying delicious strawebbery cakes and Red Caipirinhas (chardonnay & strawberries) – an unusual variation but so delicious.

We woke up early for our second day in Ushuaia. We were taking a 7am bus to National Park Tierra del Fuego. We had an improvised breakfast of what food we had left – pears, dried fruit and nuts, and chocolate. And we waited. The people we were sharing the shuttle with were having trouble waking up. They’d gone out the night before and had come back at roughly 5am, leaving them only about 1.5h of sleep. No wonder they couldn’t get up. By 7.30am everybody had crawled out of bed and we could leave. We had to make it to the park before 8am and save ourselves the $12 entrance fee. You know what they say – every little helps!

Our first stop was the Last Post Office at The End of the World, where I bought and stamped postcards for family and friends. It was expensive but I got excited with all the cool stamps. One could even say I got a bit carried away 🙂 I also had my passport stamped with a giant penguin stamp. Very, super, duper cool! I can’t stop looking at it. Did I mention I also got an End of the World Certificate? It is all official now.

We then walked along the lake which turned out to be the sea, enjoying the pretty scenery, varying between evergreen beech trees, meadows, and snow peaks. Again a very good day hike. On the way we spotted more red-headed woodpeckers and black-headed ones too.
We finished the trip at the park’s restaurant where we enjoyed beautiful views, the sight of wild rabbits, and a good lentils stew. In my case at least, Sandra wasn’t too happy with her dry, expensive, reheated meat.

After lunch the rest of the gang decided to hike another hour to a beavers’ colony and the end of Ruta 3 but we were too tired and couldn’t be bothered to move. Sandra spent the rest of our visit napping on the veranda and I wrote blog posts.

We must have spent the rest of the afternoon doing something but it must have insignificant because I don’t remember anything. Later in the evening we said ‘no’ to another community dinner and went to an Irish Pub where we took advantage of our vouchers for free beer (got them at the boat tour) and snacked on salad and excellent homemade fries.
Next morning Sandra let me sleep until 9.45am. We had breakfast and headed to the prison museum for Sandra’s last few hours at the end of the world. We joined a guided tour at 11.30am and by 12pm we were both exhausted. The truth is we have been feeling very tired ever since we got to Ushuaia despite our relaxed schedule. It probably all piled up from the hike and the last couple of busy weeks. In the museum we learned about a 16-year-old serial that started killing children at the age of 10. Very interesting!

Sandra and I took our goodbyes and went our separate ways at 2pm that day. I then took care of some chores and felt like a nap at 6pm. I knew it was late but I could hardly keep my eyes open. I thought I’d get up after about one hour but of course that didn’t happen and I got up 3-4h later for a quick dinner before I crashed again.

It is raining today and I haven’t done much. Just went for lunch and got some more penguin stamps. The asado for our birthday dinner is slowly cooking, I am hungry and excited 
PS To James who said it would be soooo cold in Ushuaia. I got news for you Mister – it is sooo NOT cold. It was so hot yesterday we walked in T-shirts.

Perito Moreno: river of ice or the most famous ice cube in Patagonia

…continued from previous story

Next day was a big day for us. We were going to see Perito Moreno Glacier – the most famous piece of ice in Patagonia. We made a few stops on the way where our guide told us more about the estepa of Patagonia, its animals, the forming of the lakes and the mountains as well as the glacier. It all started with the glaciers of course and everything that followed was left after they retracted. Knowing more about our surroundings made us appreciate the rugged, seemingly boring scenery. It added something to the trip. We also asked why the PM Glacier was so famous. It wasn’t the biggest one. The answer was simple – it was the only easily accessible one.
We spent a few hours at the glacier. First we took a boat tour to the Southern Wall of the ice cube and as we got closer we realized how big it actually was. We knew it was 50-60m high but one somehow fails to realize how high this actually is until one is standing right in front of it.

After the boat ride and the large number of photos taken we were on our way to the Northern Wall. A series of well maintained walkways allowed us to get really close to the monstrous ice cube. We heard all the cracking and saw some pieces fall into the water. Everytime we were amazed but also a bit disappointed. The crack in the ice was like thunder that could be heard from hundreds of meters away but the piece that actually fell was disproportionately small. At least it looked that way from where it stood. I think you can only judge its true size by the noise it made. And it was impressive. I loved the blue reflections of the ice and also the way it contrasted the surrounding red leafed autumn trees. The weather again was on our side. Clouds and sun took turns creating the perfect view of the ice – not too bright so you couldn’t see the shades of blue but also not too cloudy so you could see the glacier in a different light. The view was complete.

We spent the evening at our cozy hostel chatting to a couple of nice Spanish guys who’d just started their RTW trip. We were going to go out for a steak dinner but on the way there we stopped at the supermarket where we came across a ridiculously cheap large pizza. It only cost $0.50 and we just couldn’t pass it up. Someone had put the wrong sticker on it reducing the price about 15 times. It was too good to miss!

Our next stop was Parque Nacional Torres del Paine in Chile where we would spent some time hiking and camping the apparently famous ‘W’ circuit.

The Lake District and Patagonia

(written in El Calafate, Torres del Paine, and Tierra del Fuego Park, Chile & Argentina. April, 2010)

After the detour to Chos Malal and the volcano hike I went to San martin de los Andes – a beautiful, small town in the heart of Argentina’s very own Lake District. Situated at the base of Volcan Lanin (approx. 3755m) and surrounded by seven glacial lakes it offered some great views and good hikes. I limited myself to visiting the lakes and arranged a couple of tours to cover the 300km hosting the lakes. Unfortunately, the weather got worse just when I got there. I didn’t enjoy such great views but the tons of information the guides shared with us more than compensated for the bad weather. In two days I got plenty of grey sky, strong winds and rain. We saw none of the two volcanoes we were supposed to see. Let’s just say it was an unconventional experience. I enjoyed hanging out with Argentinian tourists and spent quite a lot of time chatting to a student from Buenos Aires.

I liked San martin a lot – each wooden house looked as if it came from a fairytale, rose bushes decorated the streets, there was an upscale yet down-to-earth feel about the place and the streets were full of life. I enjoyed spending time at the local chocolate shops, sipping hot chocolate and munching on homemade cookies. I also did some shopping (incl. a funky handmade hat, a pair of fluffy lama wool gloves and some chocolate covered almonds) in Villa la Angostura, a nearby (read 120km away) from San Martin.

It was then time to rush to Bariloche where I was meeting Sandra. I wasn’t going to go there originally but my stay there ended up being a couple of relaxing days in the sun crowned by a great hike (Refugio Frey). I spent a couple of days just wandering the streets, reading and watching ‘Friends’. I didn’t feel like doing anything, as I didn’t think Bariloche had all that much to offer. Besides I’d done it all before. When I met Sandra we went hiking to a nearby refugio. It turned out great, we were lucky with the weather and the scenery along the way was stunning. We went up on the rocky, desert like side of the mountain, walked through a valley surrounded by impressive peaks and came down through the woods. We rushed all that day as we had a bus to catch and unfortunately we couldn’t spend much time relaxing at the charming refugio. I loved the varying scenery which is rare for a hike. Usually you go up and down the same way.

We then took a 33h bus ride on Ruta 40. I’ve mentioned before how famous it was and I thought it was because it was the single route that connected Patagonia top to bottom (approx. 5000km long). That is like connecting the US top to bottom. Apparently, there was a more important reason contributing to its fame – Che Guevara travelled Ruta 40 and felt inspired by the journey.

When we took the bus I had no idea most of it wasn’t paved. No wonder it took 33h. At times we barely moved. I also didn’t know that only estepa surrounded the road and stretched as far as the eye could see, stretching for thousands of miles. Not very exciting after a while. Surprisingly we hardly felt the ride and even enjoyed it. Not hard when only six people are traveling on a bus for more than forty. We all had two double seats to ourselves and were able to stretch across them lying horizontally. We slept tight for two nights and spent the rest of the time watching movies and stopping for breaks, including a 5h break in a small town where we spent the sunny afternoon picknicking in the local park.

We saw wild guanacos (from the lama family) running freely and we also spotted some rare (we found out later) birds, strauss-like but smaller – running around. Nandu they are called. It is always such a treat to spot wild animals, particularly when you least expect it.

We arrived in El Chalten at 6am and walked the dark streets looking for an open hostel. We found a nice, cheap one but it was full, we then found another nice but expensive one with Wi-Fi and free Inet. A real treat in a place where an hour of very slow Inet sells for $3. We thought we’d check out another one before we settle down and when we saw it we liked it and decided to stay (price was the same). Mistake. It didn’t have Inet or Wi-Fi and no electric plugs were available in the dorms. A bit uncomfortable. The common area boasting high ceilings and cosy wooden decoration somewhat made up for it. Staff was also very friendly. Shame that such a beautiful place lacked some common sense details.

We didn’t waste any time and after a quick chat with the staff and a look at the map we were on our way to Laguna de los Tres. It was one of the recommended sights and a good day hike. We made a brief stop at the panaderia, packed some empanadas for lunch and started the ascent.

The hike wasn’t very hard with varying ups, downs and flats and the scenery was gorgeous, changing from steppe to soft mountains with low vegetation, lagoons and the edged snow peaks of Cerro Fits Roy. The weather was amazing too which just brought forward the intense red of the autumn trees.

We had lunch sitting at the top of rock overlooking two amazingly colored glacial lagoons simultaneously – Laguna de los Tres and the hidden gem, Laguna Sucio (Dirty Lagoon). The latter was anything but dirty but the floating pieces of ice probably have something to do with the name.

By the end of the day we were pretty tired so we just cooked a simple pasta dinner before we crashed for the night.

We woke up nice and early on the next morning although we were not sure whether we wanted to go for another hike or just rest. I was fine but Sandra wasn’t feeling a 100% after hiking for 4 days straight. We cooked breakfast (we thought the breakfast offered at the hostel was nice but not worth the price) and we decided to do the hike since it was supposed to be relatively easy. Another gorgeous day and varying scenery. We casually strolled through the forest, chatting, taking photos. We met a nice German guy (Andreas) on the way and spent the rest of the hike together.

We had lunch at Laguna Torres, another glacial relic at the foot of Cerro Torre, the second most important peak (after Cerro Fitz Roy) in the area. We then walked on top of the ridge surrounding the lagoon in an attempt to make it to a lookout point boasting closer views of the glacier. We came to a gorgeous rock hanging off the edge of the mountain revealing equally amazing views of the glacier and a better atmosphere. We stayed there, enjoying the views arguing about the size of the small waterfall we could see across the lagoon in relation to the noise it made. Sandra wrote in her diary while I almost fell asleep under the warm sunrays.

We walked back to the hostel where we only had time for a quick shower before we met our German trail buddy for dinner. I guess our hike was not so short and relaxing as we thought. We met Andreas at the local bookstore and headed to a lovely, small restaurant at the foot of the mountain that we had seen the day before. It only held a few wooden tables and a small (more than enough though!) selection of wines, homemade beer, and local meats and specialties. All this under a sloping ceiling and big windows with views of the night sky with its million twinkling stars.

I ordered a homemade red beer that was absolutely delicious! I drink beer but I never thought it was delicious. This was a different story. I loved all 500ml of it and even thought about getting another one. We also had the house special steak which was this massive piece of premier meat cooked to perfection that came on a rustic wooden board accompanied by some chunky baked potatoes. An absolutely fantastic meal!

That night I tried to use Sandra’s netbook to transfer some photos. I plugged the camera and I didn’t see any folders as I normally do. I felt an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach as that same thing happened when I had a virus on it some weeks ago. The only difference was that I wasn’t in Rio and I couldn’t easily repair it. There was nowhere I could take it for reparation around here. OK, inconvenient but manageable. Then I plugged my hard disk holding all my travel photos from the last 6 months and I couldn’t see the folder. My stomach flipped. I heard stories about people losing their photos because of viruses and thought that’s what’d happened to me. I felt bad but still not completely devastated since I had most photos published on Facebook. I was just upset about losing photos from the last few places I’d visited (and really liked!) including the volcano hike in Copahue. Well, there was nothing I could do about it so I just went to bed. It took me a while to fall asleep as I kept thinking about the photos. Damn it!

We got up very early the next day in an attempt to make the 8am bus to El Calafate. The one leaving directly from the hostel was full so we had to quickly walk to the main bus station where a second bus was leaving at 8am. We hoped there would be space for us and we wouldn’t have walked in vain. Luckily there was. We quickly got our tickets and settled for the ride. That all day was very good. When we arrived in Calafate we found the cheap hostel Andreas had recommended to us the night before and we were pleasantly surprised to find how lovely it was. The owner was also amazingly friendly and helpful. A nice change from the usually grumpy Argentinians.

That afternoon was errands afternoon. Thinking that I’d lost my photos the night before I had the brilliant idea of taking the camera and the hard disk to a computer repair shop where the data could be restored (if at all possible!). It was my only hope. I walked all over town looking for the shop the lady at the tourist office had indicated on the map. After a while I gave up on the first shop and headed to the center in search of the second one. Again, it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I then asked at a local electronics store and it turned out that the first shop wasn’t actually a shop but a guy who one would call so he could come to you and the second shop did no longer exist. There was however a third one (!) that was just a couple of blocks away. However it might already be closed for the siesta. But of course…!

Nevertheless I decide to give it a try and quickly walked there, eager to find out if my photos could be restored and luckily it was still open. I explained what had happened and the guy plugged both the camera and the hard disk into his computer and oh! a miracle! It was all there! I don’t know why Sandra’s pc didn’t detect them that night but all the photos were there. This must have been one of the happiest moments in my life. I felt amazing and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could ruin my mood.

The scare was enough to make me back all my photos up though. Later that night I found a shop that burned them onto DVDs for me. All safe! I also bought an extra memory card much bigger than the first one. That way I’d have to transfer photos and connect to potentially infected computers less often hoping to minimize the risk.

I happily walked to the meeting point where I was picking up Sandra for some afternoon strolling. The time I was running around stressing about my photos she spent in a local bakery sipping hot chocolate and munching on homemade cookies. Nice! We spent some time in the center visiting artesanias shops, enjoying the sun.

We also spent some time by the Lago Argentino writing in our diaries while observing the pink flamingos. Thos came as a total surprise actually. I saw the natural reserve indicated on the map but I had no idea it was connected to the main lake nor that it was visible from the walkway. Cool!

We then decided it was time for a little break and headed back to the center in search of a nice café. We came across a lovely book bar called Alvarez & Borges. It was a lovely wooden, rustic place situated on the second floor of a traditional Andine style building with large windows looking out to the busy main street. The walls were covered in books – a good selection of classic Argentinian authors as well as international ones translated in Spanish. We found ourselves a cosy spot in a couple of comfortable green leather armchairs, ordered some mates and spent hours reading, writing and chatting. Sandra had a mate cocido (similar to green tea) which is a much milder version of the traditional yerba mate and I gathered the courage to try the traditional mate served in a special mug and a bombilla (a straw like metal thing used for sucking the drink without having your mouth filled with the leaves of the herb). Drinking mate is a small ritual. It not only comes in a special mug/straw arrangement but it also requires a special way of preparation. The mug might be made of a dried empty pumpkin or metal or wood or bone, precious stones and metals, or any combination of the above. The ‘straw’ is usually made of metal or wood and comes with a special filter at the bottom which does not let the yerba through. The yerba itself is a dried grass-like substance. You fill your mug with it, gather it to one side by tilting the mug, place the bombilla and add hot water (but not boiling) to it. You must be careful not to move the straw after you have poured the water. If you want sugar it must be added before the water and re-filled everytime water is added. The reason it took me so long to try the mate was because most foreigners who tried it thought it bitter and didn’t like it. You wonder what I thought after my first sip? I liked it. Yes, it is bitter but the sugar helped a lot and it just left a nice after taste in my mouth. It is very heavy if I may say so for a tea. You can almost chew on the taste. My favourite part about the mate is the preparation ceremony. It turns drinking tea into an experience, a small celebration, a special event every time you have it. Earlier that day I asked a lovely lady at a local store about the properties of mate.

-Well, it has its properties just like other herbs. But this is not why we drink it – she said. It is part of our culture just like tea in England and coffee in Colombia. It brings people together. You never drink mate alone – she added.

What a special drink.

Continued in next story…

Why climbing an active volcano on your own in extreme weather conditions is a great idea!

(written partly in hostel La Puerta Verde, Bariloche and at Librobar Borges&Alvarez, El Calafate, Argentina. Mar, 2010)

When the travel agency in Copahue cancelled my trips I came up with expeditions of my own. I arrived on Monday, wanting to climb Volcan Copahue after some great reviews I’d heard on the way. I didn’t waste any time in finding the local travel agency and before I knew it I was sitting on their chair discussing itineraries and wetaher conditions. I arranged another trip for the Wednesday before the young business owners started explaining how climbing up the volcano would be impossible because of the strong winds. I believed them, what can you do? The Wednesday came, I waited for the agency to pick me up and they didn’t come.

I walked down to the office only to find out the trip was postponed until Friday. Coincidentially, so was the volcano ascend. I had to chose or do one trip on my own. Since I needed a car to visit the waterfalls the choice was obvious. I was climbing the volcano on my own. That day I took a walk in the surrounding mountains which revealed a pile of rocks that certainly looked managable. Knowing what I had to do to get to the top, I felt a lot more comfortable.

The morning came and I was off. I packed some food, water (that I later realised wasn’t enough), thermal clothing, a torch, and a lighter. All this in case i got stuck in the mountain. I walked up the hill, along the river, on a glacier, until I found a path that I followed for most of the time. The wind was barely noticable while surrounded by mountains. So far, so good.

Then I reached the last 500m leading up to the crater and that’s where it got challenging. Almost all of it consisted of ash which made it very hard to walk. The lack of any solid stones didn’t help much either. Since I didn’t have a hiking pole I could use for support, pretty soon I was on all fours. Yes, I more or less crawled up to the top. I would take a step forward and slide two steps back. It was like trying to climba huge sand dune. That’s ash for you – a nightmare to walk up, but great for going down. You will see why later.

As I was making my way up I kept thinking how hard it was but then I’also keep repeating to myself ‘Come on! You’ve done harder!’ (referring to the volcano hike in Guatemala). When I finally made it to the top the wind was unbearable. I could hardly stand on my feet, let alone hike. I slowly inched my way along the crater and to a flatter surface. The crater is worth a few words of description before we move on to more disturbing aspects of the hike.

Most volcanoes in Patagonia are not active and their craters are burried under a few hundred meters of glacial ice. Vocan Copahue also boasts its very own glacier but unlike other volcanoes it doesn’t cover the crater. Quite the opposite, the crater is wide open, deepening with every eruption. It also holds a lagoon with bubbling sulphurous water. I later found out that people used to swim from one end to the other when the crater was not as deep. To this day though nobody knows how deep it is.

I marvelled at the view as much as I could while trying to remain on my feet instead of rolling down the crater and what I thought wa boiling hot water (although the water looks boiling hot it is only 20º-30º warm). I spent a while trying to stabilize my tripod in a desperate attempt to document my conquest. I didn’t succeed on more than one ocassion and my camera has the missing bits of plastic to prove it. All the while I had to deal with the suffocating stank of the steaming lagoon. The wind carried the sulphurous steam in every direction and at times the smelly cloud would engulf me completely, stinging my eyes and burning my throat and nose. I tried to block the smell by shutting my eyes while covering my face with the jacket but the smell would still penetrate through the fabric. I guess the jacket is only good for blocking rain.

After I have had enough of the stincky lagoon I decided to make my way to the cumbre or the very top of the mountain which also marked the border with Chile. Exciting! I looked to the right and didn’t see anything remotely looking like a path. Then I saw some footprints going up the dune to my left. It looked managable and I decided to take my chances. I walked up carefully, balancing my steps on the top of the ridge. i reached a steep but relatively firm area and thought it looked like a shortcut. I attempted an ascent and I did reach the middle before I started sliding down. Again lack of stones to hold on to and ashy surface made it impossible to grip. I decided sliding down on a rock on the edge of the crater was not a brilliant idea and I went down looking for a different route. The rocks to my left looked more or less stable so I decided this was the path.

Only after a few meters I lost balance and slipped, landing on my bottom. The ground beneath my feet was crumbling down. I sat there, not daring to breath, looking at the precipis plunging down a meter away from me. ‘Turn around slowly, use your knees for support and try to gran onto a rock above you.’ I thought. I did turn around and I did use my knees but I still slid down. I had no grip whatsoever. I managed to a grab onto a rock and pulled myself up. After a short break I continued with my adventure. Every time I stepped on a rock I remembered my father’s words.

– Always make sure a rock is stable before you grab or step on it – he used to say when I was a little girl. I checked alright! Both the rocksunder my feet as well as those above me were very fragile.

I walked on, slowly realising that I wasn’t hiking anymore. I was rock climbing and I had no safety rope. ‘This can’t be the path’ I thought. ‘I better go back’. I turned around to go back but it didn’t look like there was anything to hold onto. It looked much harder. ‘OK’ I thought ‘maybeI could go further and then go down and go around the peak’. So I kept going. Not for long though. With every step the scenery got worse. The precipis got steeper and the rocks more scarce. ‘I can’t go on, this is too dangerous’ I thought. Hanging onto the edge of the mountain I looked both ways, trying to decide where to go. I didn’t see a way back and the way forward was too dangerous. I felt stuck. I felt helpless. It was scary. ‘OK, remain calm and think’ I told myself. Going forward was a suicide. ‘If I came this was I must be able to go back the same way’ I thought and truned around. The way back was much harder. At some point I reached a very tricky bit where I was literally hanging off the edge. I could hear rocks crashing at the bottom of the precipis but I couldn’t see them. It was that deep. I felt my muscles tensing, my body acing, my knees shaking from the pressure I put on them. ‘Remain calm and focus’ I told myself. Inch by inch I made my way to a safer spot but the struggle wasn’t over. I still had to make my way to the flat area by the crater and the soft ash. The precipis wasn’t there anymore but the hill was still very steep and slippery. I was pretty shaken up and my mood was dampened.

I reached the ash and had a blast running (literally) down the hill. Just like a sand dune your feet sink in the ash providing excellent support. I was down in no time. From there I tried to spot the path but everytime I lost sight of it I took a different turn that took me on a different route. I only found the path a few hundred meters away from the village. Somehow it was very difficult to follow it on the way back. I went through a lot more hills than I wanted to but finally made it back safely. I was tired and still a bit shaken up.

Before I went back to the caravan I went to the travel agency to confirm the trip for the following day. I told them about the hike, they thought I was crazy. Nothing new. I asked about the path to the top. I told them about my experience convinced that where I went couldn’t possibly have been the way. It turned out that it was. I couldn’t believe it. It was too dangerous to do it without a safety rope.

Later I thought about what I’d done and felt proud of myself. I was able to remain calm and get myself out of a sticky situation.

Well done!

Copahue: where mud costs money

Warmth spreads through my body as I am walking home. Maybe it is from the wine I drank for lunch or thehydro massage I just got at the Copahue Thermal Center. In any case it feels good.

The first thing you notice when you get off the bus in Copahue is the smell. Sulphur. It doesn’t smell, it stinks. It comes from the surrounding geysers as well as the natural pools at the center. Then you notice the houses. Most of them are torusit accommodations of some sort: hotels, posadas, cabins, apartments, private houses, camping. You name it! There are no permanent inhabitants – every single person in Copahue comes in November and leaves in April. If you arrive in the middle of the day, as I did, you also notice the lack of any activity. it is the time of the siesta and the village is dead. Not great when you are starving and there is nowhere to eat. The location and the hospitality of the people more than make up for any minor inconveniences though.

The village is situated in the state of Neuquen (the best apple-pear producing region in Argentina) in the Northern Andes, only a few kilometers away from the Chilean border. It lies at the foot of an active volcano (hence the thermal pools) which boasts magnificent views of the valley. And it should do since it is one of the main attractions in town. The wide variety of waters makes the local Thermal Center one of the best in the world rivaled only by a similar center in Germany.The cordillera surrounds the village and all you can see is bare snow capped peaks washed in sunlight and enless valleys dotted with lagoons and the occasional geyser. I have always imagined Patagonia as a vast pampa where spotted horses run freely in hundreds. I wondered whether this was really the case. Now that I am here, I can confirm it. I saw them with my own eyes. It is always so exciting when something you have imagined turns out to be exaclty as you have pictured it.

Copahue’s remote location make for a scenic but challenging trip. Our broken bus vouchers for it. We all heard the thump below our feet soon after we left Caviahue and the paved road changed into gravel. We were in the middle of nowhere, about 15km away from our final destination and walking was out of the question. So, we all sat by the road under the scorching sun and patiently waited for the emergency vehicle. It is not like we had anything better to do. At least I didn’t and I doubt any of the 60 year old passengers, going to soak their arthritic bodies, was in much of a rush either. Eventually, we all got picked up and before we knew it we got dropped of in the center of the ‘great city’ of Copahue. Next on my list was finding a place to stay. I didn’t need much – a warm bed and running water were more than enough. I got pointed to a nearby hotel and went to check it out. I was out of there before I even got in. They charged a rediculously high amoung of money and defended it with the two meals that were included in the price. ‘No, thank you!’ I thought. We were in Argentina remember, I can get a much cheaper meal. Two ladies standing outside the hotel heard that I was looking for a place to stay and pointed me to a señor Juan Fernandez. I didn’t know what to expect but I was told it was cheap. So I walked the two blocks to thhe other side of the village and found the señor. It turned out that he rented out casillas.’Casillas?!’ I thought. What’s that? Señor Fernandez offered to show me and I followed him through the yard. You’ll never believe where i am staying at. I certainly can’t. I have rented a caravan, A not so small caravan all to myself. As soon as I arrived in Patagonia about a week ago I thought how great it would be to camp here. The place is made for camping. It is such a shame I don’t carry a tent with me. When i saw the caravan I was extatic. The price was also reasonable (certainly much lower than anything else around here). There was no way I was going anywhere else. I am not sure it compares to a tent, maybe it is the second best thing or a better way of camping but one thing is for sure – I am camping!

That first day in the caravan I couldn’t stop giggling to myself. I giggled when I saw the caravan, I giggled inside the caravan, I giggled when I left the caravan. I couldn’t stop saying how great it was! I was so happy. Things couldn’t have worked out better. This is what I call an adventure.

Now is the time to mention a book I picked up in my first weeks in Brazil that I still haven’t finished. Yes, it has been more than two months. It is the diary of a solitary Argentinian sailor who set out to sail around the world singlehandedly in a small yacht using old-fashioned methods of navegation (i.e. measuring latitude using the position of the sun among other methods). He didn’t carry any modern positioning device on board and he didn’t have a motor. Anyhow, as impressive as the story is, it is not the point. The reason I picked up the book was to practice my Spanish, particulalry in Brazil where I wouldn’t hear a word of iit for a couple of months. It is a hard read and not particulalry exciting one but it grew on me. I don’t want to leave it before I knows he’s safe back home. From the book I learned a few things about Argentina before I even got here. I knew about the fideos (spaghetti), the ñoquis, the tea time. It all made sense when I experienced it in Buenos Aires. But this is also not the point of my story or why I am mentioning the book. In the book the author describes his daily routine including the preparation of meals. Since I am camping I very much feel like hime – out in the open, having to rely on my own resources. Last night for the first time I understood, I felt his excitement with the success of the smallest of daily chores like meal preparation. Although I have never considered my meals during this trip in any way exciting or worth mentioning I feel I ought to mention my camping meals. They were some of the highlights of my stay in Copahue and the satisfaction I got from preparing them was enormous.

That first night after two thermal treatments (a dip in a green water lagoon and a green water immersion) I took a quick shower and ran (literally) to the store for groceries. I wondered whether to have pasta (just like the one we had in Guatemala when we camped at the volcano) or lentils dhal. I got the idea for the dhal from another book. The dhal prevailed. I went to the shop three times every time forgetting something. I finally made it to the caravan and got onto chopping the potatoes (yes! my dhal would have potatoes). While it was boiling I chopped the carrot and the onion and fried them in butter. As famous cook Julia Child says ‘Butter is the secret to cooking! You can never have too much butter!’ I then added the lentils, the potatoes, and a couple of cubes of vegetable broth for the taste. Well, my creation was far from an Indian dhal, but it was one hell of a vegetable stew! Finger-licking-licious! I had a lot of it, along with homemade bread, and a glass of red wine. It was one of the best dinners I have had so far! I don’t know what it is but I eat a lot here, I am also full of energy, running up and down the streets. Maybe it is the climate but I have a feeling camping has a lot to do with it. I am so excited.

I am glad I am doing this on my own as it would have felt completely different if I were with another person. Here I have no one but myself to rely on, I have to be creative with my food, and my sleeping arrangement, and there is nothing as exhilarating as the satisfaction of having achieved something on your own. This is my trip now. I am not using the guidebook. This is the adventure I was looking for.

The morning after my exquisite dinner I woke up by myself just before 8am. Always a sign of happiness. A champion’s breakfast followed – a fried egg sandwich with sausages, cereal with yoghurt, black tea, and a pear. Everything takes a lot longer when camping – cooking, washing dishes. The tap water here is freezing cold and I can’t say I am a big fan of washing greasy dishes in the middle of the cold dark night but it is all part of the experience and I am happy to do it. My hands turn bright red afterwards. It feels like burning although they are cold as icicles

After my wonderful breakfast I set out walking to Caviahue, the nearby village where an ATM was available. When I say ‘nearby’ I mean 17km away. I hoped a car would pick me up pretty soon. And it did! A nice elderly couple gave me a lift. I shared the back seat with a local lady who complained about the high prices of hotels while advertising her own little joint as the cheapest one. It really was.

I found the bank but there was no cash in the ATM. There hasn’t been any for the last 4 days as a matter of fact. A lovely couple was also waiting told me the truck would come at 12.30pm. It was 12.15pm. More than two hours later I was the only one still waiting. The truck did come though. While waiting I chatted to the couple who turned out to be real nice. They gave me tips on getting to Chile. I almost forgot – the first night in the caravan at about 23.30h just after I’d got into bed I felt the caravan shaking. I thought someone was walking outside. Not until the morning I realized that what I’d felt were the aftershocks of the big earthquake in Chile.

After I got cash I started walking back. I wanted to make it to the top of a nearby hill that had a great view of the village before I got into another car. My walk turned into a small expedition as it wasn’t until a few kilometers away from the village a young couple finally picked me up. See what I mean when I say that everything takes a lot longer. Even something as simple as taking cash out took about 5h. I did enjoy the view though and took photos at every possible angle.

When I made it back to the camping, I stopped by to say ’Hi!’ to the owner who has been really nice. He asked whether I’d had lunch and I told him I was about to make some.
– Do you like lentils? – he asked.
– I love lentils – I responded.
– I have some lentils with meat leftover from lunch. Do you want them? – he offered.
Sure I do! How could I turn down a delicious, free meal. My lunch was sorted.

Afterwards I went to the thermal center for a relaxing hydro massage. I then came back to the caravan, brewed myself a nice, hot cup of tea, wrapped myself in a warm blanket and wrote this post while watching the sun set over the mountains turning them pink. Spectacular!