Another Amazing Experience

Sunday 25 February

Today we have had one of the most spectacular experiences during the whole of our adventure. But first the start of the day – we breakfasted in one of the large dining rooms – used for tour groups we suspect – on our own as none of the other tables were free or cleared. The food was fine – the usual scrambled egg but with bacon, cold cuts and cheese and a large selection of breads and cakes. Only the fruit was a bit naff – tinned pears, some sappy watermelon and papaya.

We had decided to take the small train from the nearby station – about half a kilometre from the hotel - out to the Devils Throat, as our first trip today. On our way along the paths, we met swathes of people coming in the opposite direction, obviously a train had recently arrived. When we got to the station we found we had to wait twenty minutes for the next train – although the queue was already nearly the length of the platform, several people wide. As we waited the number of people more than doubled and then the first train arrived – every seat taken – from Central Station, a couple of kilometres up the line. One train goes back and forth from Central, while the second goes back and forth to the Falls. Everyone got off and joined the back of our queue, now snaking back and forth the length of the platform three times! Five minutes later the second train arrived – it reminded me of a seaside train – perhaps the Dymchurch railway, but with an electric engine. There were lots of carriages, each divided into eight ‘compartments’ – no windows or doors, just rows of wooden slatted seats – which held four people on each side. It took about ten minutes to load everyone and then we were off, through the jungle, eventually traveling beside a wide brown river, meandering its ways to the Falls. We reached the end of the line in a little more than ten minutes and everyone decamped to the walkway stretching out over the river (Rio Igauzu Superior). The pathway, 1100 metres long, was a steel platform of mesh construction, about six feet above the river at the start, but gradually becoming ten and then twenty feet over the water. We made our way out, me marching ahead, and Colin doggedly walking behind, keeping his eyes ahead – he was determined to see the Falls as close as he could. He was very brave and after about fifteen minutes we reached the triangular platform right next to the Devils Throat, a massive cascade about 15 metres wide thundering in a white and brown foam over the lip of the cliffs, and down 50 metres to the rocks and river below. All around were other lesser waterfalls – some grouped together to look like one white curtain along the face of the cliff, while others were single streams. The spray rose in thick a white plume of mist high up into the sky (as we had see from our room) drenching all the spectators on the platform. Most people lined the rails in lines two and three deep, to capture the awesome sight. Colin got as far as the platform, but couldn’t stand at the rails where the sheer drop down was enormous – you couldn’t actually see the river below because of the rising spray. Several others were sitting away from the drop. I took lots of piccys on my camera – and used the video camera as well! – another first – doing my best to keep both dry (I couldn’t ruin another camera by letting the water in). I watched for a while and then retraced my way back with Colin – I think the return journey was a little easer for him. We caught the train back to the hotel stop, which also serves the high level walk.

As it was only just after 12.00 midday, we decided to follow this second track, that visited three other waterfalls – not so spectacular as the Devil’s Throat, but equally large drops to the river below. When leaving the train station and along the walkway we saw “coatis”, brown furry creatures from the raccoon family, with long pointy, slightly snub noses (useful for foraging amongst the leaves in the forest) and stripy tails. We had been told not to feed them, or eat in front of them, as they are known to be aggressive if they smell food. We saw the Bossetti, Adán and Eva waterfalls, the path following the cliff edge between each viewing platform. By the time we returned the sky, which had been blue and cloudless this morning, had clouded over to become dark grey and dull – although still very warm – so we decided to get some lunch at a nearby café before returning to the hotel to ready ourselves for our boat trip this afternoon – changing into swimwear and leaving behind everything except the small camera and our ponchos. We had only been back in our room a short while when there was a heavy shower, but all was dry again, by the time we went out again.

We had not been able to book on one of the afternoon’s regular hourly boat trips as they were all full, so we had been allocated to the 15.45 trip, riding on a huge overland truck (like the army use) through the forest first and then catching the boat traveling back up the river towards the Falls. We arrived at the pick-up station in plenty of time, and by 15.45 there were just six of us – the boats and trucks hold about 40 people. Our young lady guide told us about the jungle – a sub tropical rain forest with 30% of the trees being deciduous. This area does not have a wet and dry season like tropical rain forests, the rain is constant throughout the year, receiving about 200 mm in total. There is a winter season, when the daily temperature only reaches 10 – 12 degrees C, but at night there are about five times a year when the temperature plummets to 0 degrees C, and there is a frost on the ground. The trees here are not as tall as in the tropical jungles, and the canopies nowhere near as thick, so that there are lots of epiphytes growing where branches spread from the trunks, and smaller bushes and flowers growing at ground level. We were dropped off at the top of a series of steps, leading 200 metres down to the river, via a series of steps. Halfway down, we noticed a tree, grey and looking dead, with no leaves and very few branches, where a couple of toucans were perched. They really do have those large orange beaks and black eyes surrounded by a white face, and pearly black plumage. The two were joined by another two, and another and finally a last pair – so that in all eight were sitting on the bare branches, or fluttering backwards and forwards from the nearby trees. It was fascinating and we could have stayed watching for a long time, but the boat was waiting.

At the small pier, at the bottom of the steps, a large red speedboat (like an overgrown inflatable) awaited us and we clambered aboard, stripped off our tops and shoes and donned red boxy life jackets. The crew supplied each of us with large green rubber heavy duty bags to keep our belongings dry. We stowed our clothes but cameras would have to wait till we were a little closer to the Falls. We all took photos, looking completely un-beautiful in life jackets. The crew included a man in a black rubber anorak and trousers, who wielded a large black case containing a movie camera. He took a sweep of the boat, before we set off up the river at high speed, crashing through eddies and waves, weaving back and forth across the width of the river. We reached the first Fall and put away our cameras, before we traveled nearer to the side bank, so we were splashed. The driver then sped off further up the river to the main Falls area and took us in towards the three waterfalls we had visited earlier. The largest – Eva – was surging over the cliff and down towards us as we edged ever closer, under the flow. It surged in spurts and we hardly had time to open our eyes before the next wave crashed over us. We were completely drenched, but the view was magnificent – this huge torrent of tumbling water falling from the sky all over us – it gives a new meaning to “power showers”. We turned round leaning the boat to first one side and then the other, to venture down the channel near to the Devils Throat. We bumped as the bottom of the boat jumped over rocks, and skimmed the fast flowing water, going really close to yet more waterfalls, before we reached the zenith of the trip – we were under the misty spray of the huge waterfall, still about 20 metres from the cliff, but the rocky bottom of the river and the sheer force of the water prevented us getting any closer – but we showered yet again by the concentrated water droplets hanging in the air. The boat pitched from side to side as the driver held the boat under the cloud. After what seemed a considerable time - but in fact was probably only a minute or so - we sped off again, to two smaller waterfalls on the side cliff of San Martin Island which separates the two areas of the Falls, where once again the driver nosed the front of the boat into the cliff face. We had yet another drenching, but everyone was laughing and screaming as the water washed over them. The whole time the photographer had been videoing our reactions. We felt quite chilled as we returned to the shore where a long line of people were queuing up the side of the cliffs, waiting for their ride. The sky was still overcast, and although it had been warm under the waterfalls, the breeze felt cool and our bodies chilled, probably because we were so wet. Before we clambered ashore the photographer informed us we could purchase DVDs of our afternoon’s adventure. It had been such an exciting experience, so we had to have a memento. We removed our life jackets and put on shoes and tops before making our way up the cliff path, back to the hotel. We actually got lost on the way, as it wasn’t clearly signposted, but we eventually arrived back in our room just before 18.00 – just time to shower and dry out, before drinks and dinner – after last night’s fiasco, we had booked a table for 19.30. We felt really buoyant about our trip – it was definitely one of the highlights of our whole adventure – perhaps because we hadn’t been expecting it to be so exciting. Iguazu Falls has definitely lived up to all we had heard about it before we left home - it was just incredible, and we are looking forward to watching the DVD, which probably will not be till we get to Rio.

We arrived in the lounge and met Monica for a couple of drinks, before making our way downstairs to the restaurant, which seemed very full. The waiter could not find our reservation and proceeded to inform us that there wasn’t a table available at present. Colin was very annoyed as we had specifically made a reservation to avoid just that, and we asked to speak to the Manager, who we had spoken with earlier. A waitress came to help, but still insisted there was not table free, and they couldn’t find our reservation. We kept insisting that we speak to the Manager, who we could see helping to serve at tables. Finally, the young lady decided we could sit at a free table (they had previously told us it was reserved), and were immediately brought “pisco sours” while we chose our menu. I selected sirloin steak – third time lucky – with salad, while Colin chose the gigot and rack of lamb. We all shared Monica’s “papas frittes” – Colin has been having withdrawal symptoms for chips these past few days, so hopefully he will feel better now. We had a bottle of white wine, and the waiter brought the three of us glasses of champagne! Not sure why – perhaps they found our original booking. Monica didn’t want her’s so I ended up with two glasses of fizz! By the time we went to bed, I was feeling distinctly winey, which probably accounted for an excellent night’s sleep.

A Wonderful View

Saturday 24 February

Most of the group met up at breakfast after all, just Harry and his ladies, and Linda and Mike were missing, as they had had an early flight to Iguazu. It was very difficult to find a clear table, which - if this is the 5* hotel it is purported to be – should be one of the prime concerns at breakfast – everyone has a habit of wanting to eat about the same time! But the strawberries were delicious.

After breakfast I decided I could stand my hair no longer – we had seen a hairdressers close to the hotel on our wanderings yesterday, and the tariff had been in English. So working on the premise that shops do not open here before 10.00, it was a little after that hour when we went looking for the shop. When e found it, at first the steel shutters were still across the door and windows, but having walked up the street and back to pass a few minutes, we found a young man in the shop, who spoke English. He explained that the shop was open, but no staff had yet arrived!! He asked us to call again in half an hour or so. We decided to telephone the parents, but after several aborted attempts to dial through, we gave this us as a hopeless case – Buenos Aires just didn’t seem to recognize English codes – nothing to do with the Falklands was it?!! (many are very anti-British here). We returned to he hotel, said a final goodbye to another five of the group, before booking out, storing our luggage in their cupboard. We retraced our steps back to the hairdressers, where I was told that within about 40 minutes, someone would be able to cut and highlight my hair. Colin returned to the hotel, to read and puzzle and I sat down to wait. Within about five minutes, a young lady arrived and with the help of the young man who spoke English, determined what I was asking for. She collected a bowl of bleach (?) and proceeded to “comb” it through my hair, separating the layers with some bits of cotton wool! At home its foil or a holey cap, never just a comb! I had a conditioner treatment, and then my hair was cut – not nearly so short as I would normally have it (she didn’t want to cut it that short!), but it was now in shape and the colour was a sort of shade of honey– a vast improvement on how I went in – although Colin looked a bit shocked when he came to collect me.

We returned to the hotel and met up with Monica, who was traveling with us to Iguazu this afternoon. We all ordered sandwiches for lunch from the bar, which were enormous – I only ate half of mine, and took the rest with me to munch on the plane! Our courier arrived on time – Monica was on the same flight as us but for some strange reason had a separate courier – but we all met up again at the airport. The plane was only delayed by twenty minutes – really good for Argentinean airlines, which we have already found are always late, so I had a little time to catch up a bit on the blog At Iguazu we were met by Fabiano (again Monica had a different courier) who was to be our guide to the Brazilian side of the Falls. We had been due to do this tour tomorrow, but as it involved crossing the border into Brazil and back again, and then when we left on Monday, we would be crossing over again, we decided to leave this trip till Monday and just cross once into Brazil.

We were allocated a room with a view over the Falls from our balcony – a truly wonderful sight, with a cloud of mist rising above the waterfalls – a really stunning view. The hotel was the Sheriton, and was typical of their chain – a large modern room, with huge windows, a bathroom with all the facilities (including tissues), and a large comfy bed. Plugs were in short supply but we eventually found two that we could use to boost the computer, phones and cameras. We had arranged to meet Monica for dinner, and as we sat in the bar, we met Linda and Mike who had arrived at lunchtime – a much better use of the day. We watched as lightning lit the sky over the Falls and thunder rumbled – lucky we weren’t going out tonight. After a couple of drinks, we made our way down to the restaurant, only to be told that there wasn’t a table for five of us. Eventually the young waitress informed us a table for two was available, so Mile and Linda took that. She told us that another table wouldn’t be free for more than half an hour as there was already a list of more than half a dozen names waiting. So Monica, Colin and I adjourned back to the bar, only to find that the menu there consisted only of sandwiches and panninis – not what we were hoping to eat. I wanted to make a fuss, but Colin wouldn’t let me. We decided that perhaps it was better to wait the extra half an hour or more and eat something we would enjoy, than to order sandwiches now – which would probably take half an hour to arrive – and not enjoy our meal. Colin returned downstairs to make the booking, and while he was there, the young waitress came to find us to say a table had now become available! We found Colin and were seated next to Linda and Mike – it seemed very poor and chaotic organization.

We didn’t want large meals – still being full from lunch – so I ordered salmon fillet and Colin had vegetable cannelloni, but the portions were quite large and we struggled to finish. We had been given “pisco sours” at the start of the meal, which set the tone, for a relaxed meal, now that we had a table. We decided we would book for tomorrow, even though you could only do so for 19.00 and 19,30. We were very tired by the time we climbed into bed after midnight, but at least we didn’t need to be up early in the morning.

A Fitting End To The Tour

Friday 23 February

Our hotel here in Buenos Aires is another where they do not open the curtains – or the thick blind behind the net curtain – so that all the light is blocked out. It seems to be part of the culture in South American hotels – I suppose it helps to keep the room cool, but you cannot determine what the weather is like. It had been warm when we arrived late last night, so hopefully it would be warm and sunny today. Breakfast was in the basement, so that didn’t answer our query of what to wear. We opted for Tshirts and cut offs, and when we stepped outside with our guide for a tour of the city, we were met with a barrage of heat – it was only 09.00 but temperatures were already up to 30 degrees C.

One of the main squares of Buenos Aires, Plaza de Mayo, marked the site of the first settlement in this area and contains the cathedral and the Pink House, now the President’s workplace. It was only a short walk around the corner from our hotel – a large open concrete space with an obelisk in the centre, and very little shade. Trees lined one side of the plaza, near the cathedral, but street sellers had already bagged all this area with their easels of postcards, jewellery and keyrings, so we had to stand in the sun to listen to our guide. She told us that the original town was situated beside the River Plate, but that, in later times the river was diverted 3 kms to the south, as the port was not deep enough to take the trading ships. From the outside the cathedral was built in French baroque style with eight large grey columns supporting the triangular eaves that were decorated with large white angelic figures. We could see the huge cupola rising behind and we were told the interior was much more classical. The church appeared to be closed – maybe we were too early, but a visit inside was not included in our schedule. We gazed at the “Pink House”, now occupying one complete side of the square. The main entrance under a huge portico was not in the centre of the building, as, when Buenos Aires was being developed into a major city and capital in the late 1800’s, they needed to construct wide avenues leading off the square, and one side of the Pink House was in the path of the proposed thoroughfare, so they just demolished the part in the way! Today the house was undergoing renovation with large areas of scaffolding from which men hung to wield their paintbrushes to transform the dull surface to bright salmon pink walls. Like most of the renovation works and road repairs currently being carried out in the city, it will hopefully be complete before the election of a new President in September – likely to be the current President’s wife!

The obelisk in the centre of the plaza was dedicated to soldiers who had died in the Falklands War, and the ground around was inscribed with a large mosaic circle, divided into segments, each with a knotted headscarf etched in white. These signs represent the group of women who used to come to this spot to mourn their sons and husbands, and protest about the Falklands War. The President of the time banned meetings of this kind – calling them political gatherings – so the women, needing a sign to recognize each other, started wearing white head scarves, and walking around the obelisk every day. They still walk here every Thursday in memory of the lost soldiers.

From here we were taken by minibus through the southern suburbs of Monserrat and San Telmo where the buildings were mostly colonial with tall flat facades and lots of balconies. The first wealthy merchants and land owners lived in this part of town, but today, Monserrat is somewhat dilapidated and in need of some TLC. San Telmo has fared a little better, and now houses the middle classes of the city. We saw the theatre here where we would be going later to see a Tango Show. Further out from the centre was a suburb known as La Boca, a bohemian centre for artists and musicians, where the houses were painted in bright garish colours, and the streets full of pavement café’s! All the suburb streets have been re-cobbled in the last decade in an attempt to return them to their original state. They are very difficult to walk on. We found a lane, filled with brightly coloured houses, above the shops, where lots of paintings were being sold. I would have liked to have bought one showing the Tango Show theatre, but although quite successful in haggling the price down, Colin had walked on – with the wallet – I suppose he was right, how would we keep it flat for the rest of our travels?! Such a shame when logic overrules impetuosity.

Close to La Boca was the old port, built when the river was diverted, to take the larger vessels of the late 19th century. Today it is almost a ghost harbour, with only a few industries lining the sides, and a large old passenger ferry, looking in need of repainting, and acting as a floating museum. It was abandoned as bigger ships arrived at Buenos Aires and a deeper harbour was required. We drove along the riverside, back into the city, to find yet another port that had flourished in the middle of the 20th century, until that too became too small. After lying derelict for 30 years, this area now resembles London Docklands, with the old warehouses turned into smart apartments and restaurants, and paved pathways and gardens lining the river. There is a new pedestrian bridge, that reminded us of the Gateshead bridge – a white construction with a long spike reaching skywards for more than 20 metres at a 60 degree angle – very modern and minimalistic but fits in with the redevelopment of the area. The new port today is situated some distance out of the city.

From here we drove into the northern suburbs – an area of huge mansions – built for the wealthy citizens as they moved to live further out from the centre as the city grew and expanded. These “houses” today are embassies, surrounded by electronic fences and gates. We drove through Recoleta and Palermo, named after the Italian city by the many immigrants who came to the area after the Second World War. Palermo is a huge district and sub-divided into smaller “boroughs” such as Soho and Hollywood. It is an expensive area to live today, and it is the place to buy designer clothes, top class leather coats and footwear and antiques. We then visited the city cemetery – a large walled area in the centre of the city – filled with huge mausoleums in white and black marble with remarkable decorations of cherubs, floral arrangements and insignia appropriate to the person. The Argentineans do not believe in interring their dead underground, and the mammoth buildings each tried to out do their neighbours, within the long narrow lanes – there was hardly any space between each building and they looked like rows of terraced houses. Today only families of those who already have a site here are allowed to be buried within this cemetery. We saw the resting places of several presidents, famous immigrants who had made their fortune in the city, and of course, Eva Peron. This poor lady’s body was sent abroad by her devoted husband when she died, for safety while he built a mausoleum in the cemetery fit for his wife. Unfortunately he died before it was even started. Her body was brought back to Argentina by Peron supporters, only to be dispatched to Italy when riots broke out against Peronism. From here she was moved around, and for many years, people in Buenos Aires did not know where she rested. Eventually she was brought back to Buenos Aires and interred in her family mausoleum. There are several plaques lining each side of the entrance, placed by various factions supporting the Perons, and today it attracts huge numbers of visitors.

Buenos Aires has lots of parks and open spaces and the main roads are up to eight lanes wide, so it has a feeling of freedom and space. We didn’t witness any graffiti or vandalism, although when we returned to the hotel, in an adjoining street, there was a large noisy demonstration with banger fireworks exploding and lots of shouting and drumming. We never did find out what it was in aid of.

We were left to explore the city on our own this afternoon, and Mike pointed us in the direction of Florida Street – a pedestrianised version of Oxford Street – where we could find money exchanges and lots of cafes, as well as hundreds of leather shops mainly selling clothes, shoes and handbags. The first money exchange we went to was absolutely crammed full – the queue forming concentric circles, starting in the centre of the shop and winding its way round and round till it got to the cash desks. It looked like a long wait. The next one we found had two guards on the door, and everyone was escorted inside and placed in a queue depending on the service required. The travelers cheque queue was quite short and the time passed quickly as we chatted to an Australian couple who were also traveling around South America, but the opposite way to us – we exchanged some tips about different venues. Once we had been served at the counter, we had to wait at a different counter for someone else to count out our money. There were about eight people already waiting here, as people from all the different queues wanting cash had to wait here to collect – in an area of at least three feet square! Nothing seemed to be happening except the queue getting longer when we arrived. Eventually, a man handed out a pile of money on a transaction sheet to each person – he had obviously been at his counting desk and when he had about ten piles – no more room on the desk? – he handed the money out all in one go. Another very strange banking system – and not terribly efficient.

We found ourselves a 1930’s style bar and café and ate paninis. Light jazz music played in the background and it was cool inside - the temperatures outside were up in the mid 30’s and the humidity was high – a bit of a change from Ushuaia, where the temperatures were only just in double figures – although that was extremely warm for the time of year there.

We wandered back to the hotel, checked out the swimming pool – no more than a large plunge pool really, but up on the roof, twelve stories up, wit ha great view over the city - and then blogged for a very short while, before it was time to get dressed up for the evening. We took taxis to a waterfront restaurant called “Happening”, where we sat on the verandah. The menu had a few interesting twists on the usual dishes, and I chose roast suckling pig (with lots of crackling!) with sweet potatoes while Colin chose a fillet steak in a pepper sauce with dauphin potatoes. I couldn’t eat anything else, but Colin managed a caramelized apple pancake which he waxed lyrical over until the next morning – I think we all knew he had enjoyed it. All the dishes were absolutely delicious, and the whole group enjoyed their meals.

After dinner we took another fleet of taxis - this time to the theatre – the Almacen, in the San Telmo district – a small intimate theatre reminiscent of vaudeville days, all red velvet and dark wood. It was possible to eat at the theatre prior to the show, but Mike said, and we had been told by others we had met along the way – that it was best to avoid the food, just enjoy the show. We had reserved chairs, clustered around small round tables, in the front, right hand half of the auditorium. There was a narrow balcony upstairs. The stage set showed the outside of the theatre, on the corner of a street, and musicians playing accordions (2) and violinist (1) were seated around the walls, with a grand piano to one side. Everyone waited in anticipation as a photographer tried to snap couples in the audience and waiters came round with glasses of champagne.

The show told the story of the Tango in dance, song and music. It had originally started in the late 1880’s as something to pass the time as the men waited in queues to find work. People started to play music on an accordion – which has always been very popular here – or a harmonica – beating out exotic South American rhythms, and the men began to dance together, improvising intricate steps to match the tempo of the music. It became a cult, and accepted by the upper classes as women joined in. The dance became very sultry and erotic, involving dancers’ arms caressing bodies, fast moving feet, kicking legs, and very sexy costumes. For a time in the 1960’s and 1970’s the dance went out of fashion, but was reinvented in the 1980’s to become a real attraction in Buenos Aires – there are Tango Shows on every street in the capital, as well as “busker troupes” on the streets. We all loved the performance – there were humorous parts – particularly one of the accordionists who put on a very dead pan face, and made expression and gestures behind the other performers. At one time something was passed from him to the pianist which had them in fits of silent laughter – we were never sure what was so funny. The show continued for almost two hours, with four dancing couples, three singers – the main maestro wore a wig which he kept twitching between his songs – and a group of four pan pipe/guitar performers. We all clapped and shouted “bravo” at the end – it had been a wonderful way to spend the last evening of the tour. Half the group were returning to England tomorrow, while eight of us were off to Iguazu for a couple of days. John and Barbara were spending more time in Buenos Aires and not returning home till Monday. Once back at the hotel we all hugged and said a long round of goodbye’s in case we didn’t meet up tomorrow, and it was an exhausted but happy group who went to their beds tonight.

More Delays In The Air

Thursday 22 February

Time is now rushing by, and it doesn’t seem possible that this tour is reaching its final destination later today. We had a leisurely breakfast, and I decided to blog till booking out time at 11.00, when we would sit and chat to others in the group who had also decided to spend the morning in the hotel. But at 11.30 Mike came and informed us that yet again the plane had been delayed, this time for more than three hours, and take off time would now be 18.35! He also advised us to eat something a good lunch as the food on Argentinean Airlines was pretty poor.

We decided to catch the free shuttle bus into the town to pass a couple of hours, but as we had breakfasted late, we didn’t fancy visiting a cafe - yet. The bus dropped us near the port, and we wandered along San Martin – the main shopping street – towards the Naval and Prison Museum at the far end of town – we thought a bit of culture might stimulate our appetite. The Museum was in the old prison building, with spokes radiating out from the centre like the sun on the horizon. The first rooms told the history of the visiting ships from the time of Magellan through to Darwin, Amundsen and up to the first half of the twentieth century, with models of all the different styles of ships, such as corvettes, brigantines, clippers and schooners. The models had been made by one local man in the 1950’s and 1960’s and illustrated the differences between each type of sailing vessel – some were built for speed, while others were made to carry cargo or people across the Atlantic Ocean. The first “white” settlement in this area was in the mid 1700’s at the Estancia Harberton, about 20 kms along the coast from present day Ushuaia (which means “bay that stretches to the west” in the native language), which was not founded until 1884, when it was chosen for a naval base.

When Magellan and his fleet, and a couple of decades later the many trading ships, arrived in this part of the world, the islands of Tiera del Fuego were inhabited by native “Indians” known as Yamana, who lived in canoes and ate mainly sea lions and shell fish. They were short stocky people with large heads and long arms (possibly became indigenous from paddling the canoes in rough seas). These natives could not adapt to the new life style that the pioneers from Europe of the 18th and 19th centuries brought with them and they were also susceptible to the new diseases – in the mid 1800’s vast numbers of Indians died from a measles epidemic, and deaths from TB and pneumonia accounted for many others. The invaders also seriously depleted the native food sources, by killing the sea lions for their blubber and skins, and over fishing the waters all around the islands. Sheep took over the feeding grounds of the guanacos that had sustained the hunters. The natives were persecuted by the new inhabitants and many had to be confined to the religious institutions for safety. By the middle of the 19th century just a few hundred natives survived and by the turn of the century only 70 were left.

Many photos of Amundsen, when he visited here before his expedition to Antarctica and the South Pole in 1911, were displayed around the walls, showing the living conditions of the ordinary folks in Ushuaia at that time. The landscape was invariably covered in snow and ice, and the clothes the people wore always looked thin and unsuitable. We didn’t have time to explore a further exhibition devoted to Antarctica on the first floor above the prison.

The first group of fourteen convicts arrived in the area in January 1896 and were housed temporarily in wooden and tin huts. The idea was to start a penal colony – based on the successful British colony in Australia – and immediately a further eleven men and nine women volunteers were sent to join the original group. The colony eventually failed for humanitarian reasons and was moved to Ushuaia in 1902 and nine years later was fused with the military prison. It first consisted of forty houses, while the prisoners built the five pavilions that held 380 single cells – although at its height, the prison held at least 600 prisoners. The Prison Museum inhabits one of the original pavilions and has exhibits about individual convicts who were sent here - most for the rest of their lives – and described the work they undertook in the town, running the first printing press, telephones and fire station. A railway was built in 1910 running for 25 kms into the forest where timber was logged for building purposes. The President closed the prison in 1947 and the buildings passed to Naval control.

A couple of hours passed very quickly while we were here, and it was time to look for some lunch, if we were to make it back to the hotel on time. We hit on a bar / café in the main street, whose menu seemed fine when we scanned it outside, but when we got in and studied it more closely, really didn’t offer what we were looking for. But we decided to stay – we had one eye on the clock – and Colin ate tagiatelle with bolognaise (a slight change from spaghetti I suppose!) while I chose sirloin steak in pepper sauce - medium rare - with cheesey potatoes. Colin’s dish arrived and appeared to be something like the dish he had ordered and hot – mine was a disaster – the steak most definitely wasn’t sirloin, it was charred and not pink, swimming in a glutinous pool of brown gravy with a couple of black lumps (peppercorns?), and the cheesey potatoes were cold! I asked for a hot portion, but I am sure the whole plate just went into the microwave – steak and all - as when it returned everything was steaming and the plate was too hot to handle. It was still edible – just – and we left as soon as we could without leaving a tip. We caught a taxi back to the hotel, and had only a short while to chat until it was time to go the airport. Mike informed us he had managed to book us all a seat on the plane (this airline frequently overbooks seats) so we only had to hand over our luggage again – more prayers needed that it would go through for free. Marcello collected us at 16.30 and we arrived at the airport to hear that the plane was now arriving from Buenos Aires at 18.30 and would take off again, hopefully, around 19.00. This meant that we would not arrive in the capital until nearly 23.00, and miss yet another night of the tour. South American flights are often delayed or cancelled – and here there is always referred to as “manyana”!

The airline provided us with water and more of those ironed out ham and cheese sandwiches because of the delay, but everyone had eaten a good lunch, so it was hard to give them away. The airport building was seething with people – how were they all going to get on the plane? - which did actually arrive soon after the expected time. When boarding was called there was a mad rush to get everyone on. We were lucky enough to have two seats together, but some of our group were sitting at opposite ends of the aircraft.

We first sighted Buenos Aires in the distance by the myriad of lights in a huge grid pattern, where the plane seemed to land, somewhere in the middle – there was definitely a hotel very close to the runway – which was a bit scary. We had to get on a bus for all of a couple of minutes to transfer to the terminal and the luggage arrived very soon after. We piled into minibuses – the group appears to have much more luggage than anticipated and it has often been difficult to load it all in the vehicles provided – the front seats are always used and often the gangways too. We drove through the city, brilliantly lit, with lots of sky scrapers and darker areas of parks, to find our hotel just off the main square. It was just midnight as we registered. We had to wait quite a while for our luggage to arrive at our room – we have been specifically told not to take it ourselves – so I found a tennis match on the television for more than half an hour. We were yet again exhausted by the time we climbed into bed. We had been told the rooms were minimalist – ours is a little larger than the one we had in Punta Arenas, but not a lot, and does only contain a bed, two small bedside tables, and a desk on which the television sits. It has a fitted wardrobe and a reasonable size bathroom. Not up to the Los Hayas Hotel in Ushuaia, but definitely fine for the couple of nights we will be here.

A Day Of Wildlife

Wednesday 21 February

Not one of my better night’s sleep, and I felt I had only just dropped off when the alarm was ringing. Opening the curtains we were confronted by a stripy pale blue and pink sky, and the lights were just going off in the town below – it must be early. I had only just got out of bed when the phone rang and it was Millie. We couldn’t understand how we had managed to miss each other last night with all the phone calls. She was going on a trip of the National Park this morning, before setting off on her trip to Antarctica after lunch. We were going on the Beagle Sound this morning, and going to the National Park this afternoon – the schedules just didn’t match. But it was good to exchange our news – just hope our attempts to meet in October go a little more smoothly.

Breakfast was an entirely different meal to the previous few days – nicely presented in an order fashion, there were cereals, fruit and juices, eggs and bacon, a selection of cold meats, cheeses, breads and cakes. And champagne! All very civilized. Lucky we had been up early enough for Colin to fit in all the courses.

We were collected by Marcello and taken down to the port where we boarded yet another catamaran – this one not as large as the last, holding only about 100 passengers. We soon set sail down the Beagle Channel, and although the sky had become overcast, the winds were light, and standing outside to look at the sheathbills, great southern petrels, and kelp geese was not too cold. On the small islands within the channel, large colonies of three different cormorants – king, imperial and rock - shared the surfaces with sea lions. The males were absolutely massive lolloping blobs of fat and blubber, weighing as much as 350 kgs. Females were a little lighter at around 140 kgs. They really did resemble giant slugs. Large groups were lying all over the rocks “sunning” themselves, while the youngsters were swimming around close to land or trying to scramble back to their parents. It was fascinating to watch as the boat nosed really close to the island – just right for taking hundreds more photos! We moved from island to island watching the surrounding wildlife, before making our way back to Ushuaia, where Marcello was waiting to take us to lunch. We traveled up into the mountains, to find a restaurant right on the edge of the National Park, a large wooden lodge, specifically catering for tour groups. We were treated to a huge spicy sausage with salsa dressing for entrée, followed by more Patagonian lamb, with salad and vegetables, and then ice cream with chocolate sauce. I shared a bottle of red wine with John and Barbara, while Colin stayed with water.

Following our feast, Marcello took us into the National Park, a forested area with only five different species of trees, by far the largest being the evergreen beech. Areas of the forest had been cleared in the 1950’s and new saplings planted, but they all competed for nutrients in the soil, and the sunlight overhead, and most of these plantations are now covered in spindly trunked trees, with a few leafy branches at the canopy. The modern idea is to let trees die naturally and rot on the ground, providing a layer of rich top soil, from which any new trees will benefit. We walked from the coach to a lake surrounded by peat bog, which has provided important information about climatic changes over thousands of years, particularly regarding temperatures, as the layers of moss and vegetation have built up.

After another short ride, further into the forest, we walked along an undulating track to an eerie scene that might have been on another planet – a large round lake, with blackish water, filled with protruding bare grey tree trunks, of all different sizes. The forest seemed to have retreated away from the lake and the atmosphere took on a ghostly feel. Everywhere was silent – no birds twittering or animals moving in the undergrowth – it almost sent shivers down your spine. We continued on along the track, back to reality, with grass and trees, and came across hundreds of rabbits munching on the grass – they had large brown eyes, long pointy ears and when they moved quickly resembled hares. Apparently there are foxes in the area, and eagles, both of which keep the rabbit numbers down to manageable levels. Black-chested buzzards soared overhead. Further along the track we came to another ribbon of water, with a huge beaver dam built of dead branches and trunks held together with silt and sand. This dam was no longer in use, but further on we saw a beaver “igloo” in the centre of a lake which was still in use.

We traveled to another larger lake, where kelp geese, and other birds waded at the edges, and finches and sparrows flitted in and out of the bushes. We had a group photo taken by a sign showing Alaska to be 17,848 kilometres away– there is a road all the way to this northern of the USA, apart from a small section around the Panama Canal where it is necessary to catch a ferry. It was then time to return to the minibus, and we thought we would be returning to the hotel, in time for a swim or just relax before dinner. But no, we were scheduled to call at this awful café, beside a camping ground under some trees, where the toilets were appalling, and the drinks unappealing. A few people made their way to yet another lake, while the rest of us grouped together and asked to return to the hotel as soon as we could get everyone back on the minibus – it was already almost 17.30, and it had been quite a tiring day. But it was still 17.45 before we left, and the journey back to the hotel took a little over half an hour. Everyone was feeling very tired, so the majority of us decided to stay and eat in the hotel again – based on last night’s really tasty experience. We changed and checked emails, before wandering down to the restaurant, bypassing the bar on the way, in favour of another bottle of red wine with our meal. Tonight Colin chose zucchini and asparagus “custard”, which was really quite rich and filling, followed by sea bass and banana mousse. I chose creamy cauliflower soup topped with toasted almonds, followed by spinach tagiatelle with salmon in a lemon sauce – sadly the salmon was overcooked, but perhaps I just wasn’t that hungry either. By the time we finished our meal, I was feeling totally exhausted, so I fell into bed and slept almost immediately. Colin stayed up emailing and finding out more about the football played at home tonight. We don’t have to book out until 11.00 tomorrow, so will have a lazy morning, getting packed up and ready for our assault on Buenos Aires.

Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego have been really interesting places, with lots to see and do, but we stayed one day too long at El Calafate, which everyone agrees would have been better spent in Buenos Aires – where we only have one full day to explore the city – or even an extra night in this wonderful hotel. But that is not how the tour works.

Argentinean Airlines Thwart Our Plans

Tuesday 20 February

Another leisurely morning, as we didn’t have to check out of our rooms till 11.00, but at 10.00 a group of us met in the money exchange shop – eager to exchange our dollars and travelers cheques for more Argentinean pesos. Although not European prices, things are definitely not as cheap as in Chile, Bolivia or Peru and pesos don’t seem to go far. On the way out last night, we had noticed a unisex hairdressers across the street from the hotel, so after topping up our money this morning, Colin decided he needed a haircut . . . . now! On entering the small shop, Linda was there having a wash and brush job. As the time crept past 10.30, we decided it would be best for me to move the cases (luckily they are on four wheels) out of the room for collection and to book out, which I did.

Mike had arranged to take the group to the nearby bird sanctuary at 11.00 – partly to fill in the time till we had to leave for the airport at 15.15 – and I was expecting to wait for Colin and catch up the rest of the party a little later – but no, Linda had arrived back as I was checking out and Colin was back just before the appointed meeting hour – looking shorn and very smart – but minus all those greying locks.

The bird sanctuary - just fifteen minutes walk from the hotel, and we passed what was believed to be the President of Argentina’s summer residence (high walled and gated) - was a large area of natural grassland beside Lake Argentina, with small pools for the birds to wade in, ducks to swim and others to just visit for a drink. Unfortunately when we arrived we could see, in the distance, some of the town’s stray dogs romping in and out of the lake, frightening off any birds that might have been lurking there! In the main street we had seen these same dogs running alongside the front wheels of vehicles, jumping up and barking, and it was amazing that they survived – they often appeared to be carried along in the wheel arches, but somehow lived to annoy the next driver. We wandered around the 2.5 km track, watching Chilean harriers (known as “Common” in Argentina – these two countries really do not like each other) - circling and watching for small rodents - finches, martens and sparrows, as well as shovellers, teal and flamingos in the pools. There was also a plethora of grasses and countryside plants, like purple corn ears with fluffy fronds at the tips, bright scarlet sorrel, great swathes of white ox-eye daisies particularly lining the banks of the streams, and yellow flowers which seemed a cross between a buttercup and a dandelion. The winds were icy blasts coming off the Lake, but providing you kept moving, it was not too cold. By the time we reached the exit, the clouds were breaking and the sun coming through.

We returned briefly to the hotel before a group of seven of us set out to find lunch – Mike had suggested eating something substantial as it was uncertain as to what time we would arrive in Ushuaia – he had never known the plane to be on time! Several wanted pasta, but when we arrived at the recommended restaurant it was closed at lunchtime. Further down the main street we could see a sign for “pizzas” and made our way to “The Owl”, reminding me of a Swiss wooden chalet, with chunky wooden furniture and lots of local pictures round the walls. Four ordered pizzas, and three, including Colin and I, went for steak – trying to regain the reputation of Argentinean steaks, which turned out to be much nicer than the ones we had a couple of nights ago. We ordered coffees and teas at the end of the meal, but when they had failed to arrive some twenty minutes later, we had to cancel the order, pay the bill and make our way back to the hotel to be on time for the departure to the airport. On the way, Colin made a brief detour to buy me some more painkillers – even more powerful this time!

When we were halfway to the airport, Ron (the ex-doctor) realized he had left his jacket at the hotel, so Mike suggested he contact the hotel when we arrived, and got them to put it in a taxi – when he phoned, the hotel had already done just that – very efficient. The bad news was that the plane was shown to be leaving at 18.00 on the departures board, not at 17.00 as we had expected! This was a bit of a blow for me, as I had been hoping to meet up with Millie – the friend we met on the Trans-Siberian train – for the evening. Booking in took an age to wend our way through the winding queue to reach the desk – there appeared to be four planes going out at ten minute intervals, with ours being the last. The airport is only tiny – and there was no way it could cope with about 600 people all arriving at the booking desk together. Mike had pre-booked our seats, so once we just had to check in our luggage. Argentina baggage allowance is only 15kgs, so we had both fingers and toes crossed as we placed ours on the scales, but it was so chaotic with the hundreds of people trying to push in – one man said he had a disability, so had to go the front, and then there was the group of French that don’t believe in queuing, and others convinced they were going to miss their plane that took off a couple of hours later! - that our cases were whisked away by the baggage staff, before the man had time to check the weight! – which was fortunate, as Colin noticed mine had gone up to 25.5 kgs as I had put an extra pack from my back pack into my case, because of my poorly back! I passed the waiting time by catching up on the blog and sending emails – there was WIFI in the airport lounge! Just before 18.00 we were called to board, but it still took another half hour or so before we took off.

We were no sooner in the air than the captain announced that we would be passing over all the glaciers we had been here to see in just a couple of minutes, and he swooped down and turned the plane around, first one way and then the other, so that everyone got a good overhead view of the Ice Field and glaciers – everyone’s cameras were snapping like mad. The seating configuration of the plane was 3 and 2 and many of the aisle seats in the groups of 3 were unoccupied, so most people could reach the windows easily. We all clapped as we rose higher to continue our flight. We landed in Ushuaia at 19.30, but the baggage was very slow arriving, so it took us some time to clear the airport and get on our way to the hotel. We had a new guide – Marcello (he couldn’t stop talking in an accent and dialogue which was hard to understand at first, until we comprehended that he was telling jokes most of the time) – who pointed out our hotel, high on the mountains surrounding the town. It looked like a fairytale castle – white, with a grey slate roof, and pointed towers, but it is supposedly the only 5* in Ushuaia, and we were really looking forward to some luxury.

We booked in and were allocated a room on the third floor, at the far end of the corridor, overlooking a nearby hotel and the forests. It was a large rectangle, with heavy floral wallpaper, and matching curtains and bedding – it was a bit like being drowned by large deep red and blue flowers. There was a sofa and large television, two double beds, and a more than adequate bathroom. Mike phoned and asked if we had been allocated double room, which we confirmed we had, and then he arrived five minutes later and asked us to see his room, which he would be happy to swap. He had been allocated a huge suite, overlooking the Beagle Sound and the town, with a large sitting room, with sofas, table and chairs, desk and television, as well as a huge bedroom with queen sized bed, a small dressing room and a bathroom with jacuzzi bath! He seemed quite eager to vacate this luxury, so we agreed to move – what a hard decision! (The only complaint we could find with the room was that water pressure was so low, and the bath so huge, that it would take nearly an hour to fill to use the jacuzzi! But the bed was soooooo comfy that it was a shame we had so little time to wallow in the opulence.

We visited reception and found the telephone number for Millie’s hotel, but on ringing, found it was an automatic answering service in Spanish, which I couldn’t understand more than “Hotel Ushuaia”. Unfortunately, because we had changed rooms, Mike received two calls from Millie - but we didn’t hear about these till after 23.00, when we got our receptionist to leave her a message. It was time to eat, and being so late, we stayed in the hotel. The dining room was very formal, with a small “snug” bar outside – it was too late to try this out now, so we went straight into dinner. Not feeling too hungry after our “substantial lunch”, I chose “King Crab Sorrentinos” which turned out to be home-made crab ravioli, with a delicious lobstery tasting creamy sauce, while Colin chose lamb ravioli, with sun dried tomatoes and a different yummy sauce. We shared a salad, and felt quite replete by the time we had eaten. But then the dessert menu arrived and Colin could not resist the apple crumble (which surprised him by being served cold) with cinnamon ice cream, and I chose what appeared on the menu to be “Minty Peas with Bavois” but of course turned out to be “Pears” – that had been marinated to become bright green menthol tasting – and very refreshing.

On returning to the room, we decided to check the emails, but the computer would not connect. So I took it downstairs to the lobby, thinking that perhaps WIFI was only available there, only for the receptionist to take it and start to investigate why it wouldn’t connect. When he took a phone call another older member of staff said he would sort it – three quarters of an hour later, as he was reinstating icons, it suddenly connected – apparently the firewall was the problem! By this time I had got past wanting to use the computer, so just checked the emails. When I got back to the room, Colin was almost sending out a search party. He checked the football results before we climbed into bed, exhausted, setting the alarm for 06.30 so that we could try phoning Millie again before she left for Antarctica. Luckily our tour tomorrow doesn’t start till 09.00.

Glacial Overload

Monday 20 February

We were up early this morning, and my back was slightly improved – just took a long and still painful time to get going. Breakfast was a short meal again as the quality of food here was not as good as at other hotels we have visited and in no time at all we were sitting in the lounge awaiting our transport. When it arrived it was a double-decker coach, with leg rests and very comfortable seating – shame we were only to be traveling in it for half an hour.

We arrived at Puerto Bandera and joined a long queue to pay our Glaciers National Park entrance fee of 30 Argentinean pesos – why wasn’t it included in the ticket price for the day? – it would have saved hundreds of people lining up. We then had to queue again to get on to the large white catamaran docked at the far end of a very precarious wooden jetty – lots of the wooden slats were broken or missing, so falling into the icy lake below was a distinct possibility. But we all safely boarded and found seats in a viewing cabin holding over 300 people (when boarding was complete not everyone had a seat! and they had to open up the VIP lounge on the top deck to accommodate the overspill) – this was not the private boat ride with personal commentary that we had we had been expecting. We did managed to get seats by a window for maximum vision without keep wrapping up in coats and scarves to brave the elements, but the seats were in rows of four, and we had two older gentlemen from Spain (?) or Italy (?) sitting on the outer two seats, so we were somewhat hemmed in. The day was sunny and warm, but there was a strong biting wind as the boat left the safety of the dock and sailed along Lake Argentina, towards the furthest fjords and the land of the Argentinean glaciers.

We sailed across the entry to the fjord going to the Perita Merino glacier and through the Boca del Diablo, a narrow strait between the surrounding high mountains, into Brazo Norte (North). The fjord here was wide with steep sided mountains reaching down to the water, with some forestation on the lower slopes – the tops looked like dark brown icing had been poured over the ridges which had slid down the sides in spiky fingers into the tree line. As we turned into the channel to see the Spegazzini Glacier, we saw the Secco Glacier, a small tongue of ice, that was clearly receding up the mountain. The Spegazzini is one of the highest glaciers in Argentina. Like all the glaciers around here, it is one of the icy fingers flowing from the Southern Ice Field in the Chilean Andes. It is not currently receding as it is fed by two smaller glaciers joining the main flow towards the lake.

We returned to the main channel and made our way toward the Upsala Glacier which is the largest river of ice in this National Park, with a front snout reaching over 30 metres high. It has a surface of over 1,000 sq kms and is again joined by other smaller glaciers as it zig-zags its way to the lake. It was named after the city in Sweden whose university sponsored the first glaciological study at the beginning of the 20th century. In 1952 Emiliano Huerta and Mario Bertone crossed the Continental Ice Field walking up the Upsala Glacier, and this area has often been used as a training ground for Antarctic expeditions. Unfortunately this glacier has receded significantly over the past ten years. The most amazing features of this glacier were the icebergs – some huge masses of ice, rising from the lake like hills - looking smooth and blue from a distance, but when you passed close by, they had large crevices and holes in the surfaces, which reflected a deep iridescent blue. They came in all shapes and sizes, and we spent some time “identifying” different shapes – such as people’s faces, penguins and churches with spires. The whole channel was edged in these large structures of ice – a few were even transparent, presumably because the compacted ice was melting at a fast rate – but all glistened in the sun. Needless to say, I, together with most of the other 350 people on the boat, took loads of pictures here.

Our third glacier was reached by a channel off the Brazo Upsala, leading to Lake Onelli and the Oneilli Glacier. The boat docked at the end of the channel and we had to walk, half a kilometre or so through the forest, to the Lake, in order to see the glacier. The forest is in decline, mainly because no new trees are growing to replace those already dead or dying, although everything is being done to encourage growth. We saw a large woodpecker – black with a red crest – and more curacura birds in the trees, and supposedly there were some wild bulls, which were brought by early settlers and have roamed free around this area ever since – they are now quite fierce and definitely not to be petted (we didn’t actually see any, but a few people reported having seeing a some grazing within the trees). We emerged from the forest to a rocky beach, where we could see the glacier descending from the mountains on the opposite side. It was quite minor, but there were lots of small icebergs around the lake, the result of cracking and fracturing of the glacier. We spent a couple of hours wandering the forest paths, walking or picking our way over the rocks and stones of the beach – all the result of deposited moraine from the time when the whole area was covered by glaciers – or just sitting and soaking up the sun – it was much warmer this afternoon than when we had left the dock, and the lake was quite sheltered, surrounded as it was by high mountains.

We had to be back on the boat by 17.00 for the return journey to Puerto Bandera – a long two hours, chugging back up the fjords to reach the choppy waters of Lake Argentina. While crossing the entrance of the Canal de Los Tempanos, leading to Perita Moreno Glacier, the waves became quite high and surged up the side of the boat covering the windows in spray, and the boat started to rock from side to side. Everyone was made to return to their seats for the twenty or so minutes it took to reach the dock. When we disembarked, there were no double-decker coaches in the car park, but with a bit of investigation, we soon found a courier with our list of names and a coach to take us back to the hotel.

All in all, today we had not seen a lot that we hadn’t seen before, except the huge icebergs. Most people agreed it had been too long as by the time we got back to the hotel it was almost 20.30 – and we had been out for more than thirteen hours. As it was so late, there was no communal dinner tonight and we found ourselves in an Italian style restaurant on the main street, where Colin had spaghetti with bolognaise sauce and I had squid with parsley, lemon and what turned out to be heaps of sautéed onions. Both dishes were very tasty and filling, so we finished off with just teas before making our way back to the hotel feeling exhausted. I am nearly out of painkillers now, so will have to make another assault on the chemist shop tomorrow.

Low Pain Threshold

Sunday 18 February

This morning my back was even more painful than yesterday and I was somewhat later than Colin to breakfast. Luckily we had not chosen any activities for today – although others had chosen to go horse-riding, fly fishing or trekking – so we could have an easy day just pottering around El Calafate. Our first task was to find a chemist that was open to get some more pain killers. Around 10.30, we left the hotel and wandered (or rather I padded) very slowly along the main street in both directions as most of the shops were still only just opening - many open around 10.00 or 11.00 and close at 13.00, re-open about 18.00 and close again between 23.00 and midnight. The only “farmacia” we had seen yesterday was definitely closed for the day – “Domingo” (Sunday) was not shown on the opening schedule on the door – and, it was an hour later, just as we were giving up hope of finding another, we discovered my saviour!

There are lots of touristy shops in El Calafate, selling the same expensive leather goods, designer label activity and leisure clothes and Argentinean souvenirs all in one establishment, in a town that is a back-packers paradise – very strange. Also there are lots of eateries ranging from cheap snack and pizza shops to smart expensive restaurants, catering for all tastes – our vegans came out with us last night and were served the right foods, but the mats on the table were pure leather! We explored some of the numerous trekking shops and bought a “glacial” blue neck warmer which can be pulled into a hat as well. We were passing another typical shop when we noticed some perfume and hair products on a shelf just inside the door. On investigating closer, we found a small shelf of pharmacy products, including pain killers. On showing the assistant our English packaging, she immediately produced the right pills from a huge stack of chemist products behind a curtain. Wonderful – pain relief in the form of a bright turquoise capsule!

We strolled (or one of us limped) back to the hotel and I blogged for the rest of the morning in the lounge, chatting to other guests as they were in and out of the hotel with bulging shopping bags.

Around 13.30, as my back was feeling a little easier, we wandered back the town, bought some earmuffs to match my neck warmer and found a café to have lunch. We both chose quiche, which turned out to be more like a flaky pastry pie with ham and apple or salmon and spinach fillings – not the soft eggy mixture we usually expect in a quiche – but they were very tasty. It was then time to blog again for a couple of hours, but this time in our room, as a large tour party, from France I think, had descended on the hotel lounge and filled it with cigarette smoke. I am desperately trying to catch up on the entries, but every day I just seem to get even further behind.

Around 18.00 we remembered we needed food for our boat trip to see other glaciers tomorrow, so ventured once more, to buy more of those “ironed out” sandwiches of ham and cheese we had had a couple of days ago, where the butter has somehow seeped into what was white bread, so that they wilt and bend when you pick them up, making your fingers all greasy – three sandwiches together do no measure an inch in thickness. We also topped up on crisps and water.

After we had returned to the hotel and changed, a group of ten of us met in the lobby to try another restaurant – this time recommended by Phillip and Monica. It was at the far end of town, opposite where the rock concert was performing – this had been happening since we arrived on Friday and seemed to be the magnet for most of the backpackers. It had been very loud on our first night, penetrating the rooms with a boom, boom, boom of drums and electric guitars, to send us to sleep – there was a bit of moaning from some guests the next morning! Saturday night was a much quieter affair, but as we ate our meal tonight, it was not only the thumping music that disturbed us, but also motor bikes screaming up and down the road outside the restaurant. The meal was average – we had both chosen Argentinean steaks with salad – not the best steak (or salad for that matter) we have had, but it was rare, edible and washed down by wines and beers. It was nearly midnight by the time we returned to the hotel, so after a short chat, everyone made for their rooms. I re-read a couple of blogs, written days ago, and decided I should be able to publish about nine entries tomorrow – we had to be up again by 06.00 for our tour, so there was no time to publish them tonight.

Watching A Glacier

Saturday 17 February

Mike had kindly delayed the start of our tour to the Perita Moreno glacier today until 11.00 – not only so we could rest a little longer, but to let the early morning crowds disperse a little, so it wouldn’t be so crowded. Breakfast was another light affair, with no cooked foods for Colin. We had a short trip around the town, to try and change our money again, but it found the exchange shop was closed until 18.00 tonight. We had to buy some items for packed lunch – which ended up being very thin white bread, cheese and ham sandwiches and some crisps – they don’t seem to sell any form of chocolate bars here in the supermarkets and have definitely never heard of “snickers” or “mars” bars.

The coach, with our guide Luis, collected us on time and we sped along the side of Lake Argentina – the largest lake in this country, about 30+ kilometres in length - where we saw a small flock of pink flamingos feeding at the waters edge and a few ducks. The water of all the lakes in this region is bright turquoise in colour, due to the sediment from the glaciers that is suspended in the water – it really makes them look like beautiful jewels in an otherwise barren landscape. We were in the “steppes” region of Patagonia, where the grass was yellowy and scrubby, and only small stunted bushes relieved the landscape. This area is very arid because the dominant clouds from the Pacific drop all their moisture over the Andes to the west – so the Chilean side is very wet – receiving over 4,000 mm of rain each year in some places - while the Argentinean side receives only a few millimeters. Large round-topped mountains were actually the moraine deposited by the glaciers as they retreated. During the winter months sheep graze on these plains, but now, in summer, they have been taken up to the higher plateaus, so we saw no animals, and even the bird life seem to have deserted the area. All the time we were nearing the higher peaks of the Andes and the Southern Ice Plain.

Argentina, like Chile, is developing the roads leading to their National Parks and like the road near Peurta Natales, the road leading to Perita Moreno, was being concreted and traffic was only allowed in single file along some sections. We got to the first “sentry” operating the “stop / go” boards, with just one car in front. We stopped and sat, and we sat, and after about a quarter of an hour Luis went to find out what was happening. Apparently, we had to cross a bridge further along the road, but the concrete laying machine was on the bridge disgorging its load at that time, and there was not enough room for a vehicle to pass – sounds like a sensible idea for a Saturday morning when the road is probably at its busiest, but its good to know its not just the UK that makes those kind of decisions – and it would be about 50 minutes before we could resume our journey. It was quite amusing to watch people from the vehicles behind us, all coming to speak to the sentry and returning in disbelief. We all chatted and the time passed quite quickly.

We arrived at the first viewing point of the glacier, and we all went “Oohh! and Aahh! – Mike said all visitors have this reaction at their first sight of this huge blue glacier rising from the aquamarine waters of the lake, where a fjord from the lake makes a right-angled turn around what is known as “The Peninsula” – in fact, it is three-quarters of the way to becoming an island. The Perita Moreno glacier flows from the Southern Ice Field (which is 350 kms long and stretches almost the entire length of Argentina in the Andes) in a long icy finger - it is 14 metres long and between around 55 metres high, and 7 kms wide. The top looks like rough Christmas cake icing – lots of peaks. It was very hard to appreciate just how large the glacier was – it was a another beautiful sunny day, with clear skies, but I didn’t realize that the horizon could be so far away – we could see the ice field far in the distance – yet it looked only a short stroll away – very wierd. The compacted ice was really blue – due to its density – and in places, through the crevices it appeared a deep ultra-marine colour – almost iridescent. We continued on to the tourist centre beside the lake, where, by a series of deck-walks and balconies we were able to watch the glacier for the next few hours – some of our group went on a boat trip to get close to the face of the glacier snout, but we are also going to see the Upsala Glacier on Monday by boat, so we decided to just stand and watch. We ate our lunch whilst listening to the loud “cracking” noises and even louder “crashing” sounds as chunks of ice broke off from the glacier and landed in the lake. At one point a large slab of ice from the front face of the glacier just slid down into the water with a “rushing” noise, while another time a huge block of ice rose up from the lake with a lot of bubbling and rippling of the water around – just like a witches’ cauldron - and just floated, slowly, away from the glacier – it was not just at the top that the ice was shattering. Near the port where the boats leave from, several massive icebergs were ‘resting’ near the shore, the result of breakings of the glacier in the last week – large icebergs take about a week to melt in the lake. Surprisingly this glacier is still progressing – at a rate of two metres a day – a huge amount since almost all other glaciers are receding – but it is continually fed from the ice field, where the heavy snow is forever compacting and pushing forward.

Saying we watched the glacier for about three hours, sounds like watching paint dry, but there was always something happening – we could hear the giant cracking from other areas of the glacier, ice blobs were flowing under an arch in the ice from the south face of the glacier and making a small ice flow of white chips in front of the huge wall, and continually eddying around as more ice joined it, and small portions of ice regularly fell from the main ice wall. It was absolutely fascinating, and strangely the smaller the block of ice that fell, the more the noise echoed as it entered the water. The boats – catamarans that held over 200 people looked like ants as they neared the front of the huge ice tongue – and even then it was still difficult to gauge the total height. It was possible to walk right down to the base of the glacier to appreciate the enormity of the ice, but this morning I had bent over to get something from my suitcase and my back had …. “spasmed” is probably the best way of describing it – and it had been very painful all day. So we decided just to walk halfway down today, and not overdo it – hopefully we would get the full picture at the other glacier on Monday.

We went to collect those on the boat, and sat on the warm rocks surrounding the lake. Mike went down to the lake and came back with a huge wedge of ice – perfectly clear, made up of scalloped atoms frozen together like large crystals. This ice contains lots of minerals collected as the glacier moves down the valley, so we all rubbed our hands over the freezing mass – when they dried, our skin felt very soft and smooth. A lady told us the ice was good for wrinkles – perhaps we should have collected some in a bottle.

It was then time to make our way back to El Calafate – with the roadworks the journey could take more than two hours and it was already after 17.00. We arrived back at the hotel and more than half the group made their way round the corner to the money exchange, where we found a queue stretching at least 50 metres around the small square and out into the road – the only money exchange open in the town today. It took about 20 minutes to reach the desk, where luckily three people were working hard to meet everyone’s demands for Argentinean pesos – about 3 to the US $ and 6 to the GBP - as with travelers cheques, they had to make a phone call – so delaying the line a while!

We changed for dinner, before all meeting in the lobby to visit another of Mike’s recommended restaurants – this one owned by the former head chef of one of the local hotels, who had taken many of his staff with him. The menu was quite extensive, but we ended up choosing lamb for Colin and steak for me, both of which were cooked divinely. As the portions continue to be large, we skipped entrees, but Colin still had room for a Patagonian apple – burnt in brandy – crepe, with ice cream! While eating, we had a phone call from Juz, to let us know she was safely back from Las Vegas – its surprising how good it is to hear a familiar voice – and we promised to email later – which we did – so it was quite late by the time we went to bed – me swallowing the last of the paracetamol – so we will be on a mission to find a chemist in the morning.

Changing Rooms

Friday 16 February

We had opted for an easy morning today, just catching up on the blog and having a swim in the pool – out of the end of the “spokes” and follow a pebble path down the hill to another “cell-like” building. We thought we would be the last to breakfast, but that was far from the case, and in the end most of the group were there with us.

We checked and sent emails before returning to our room to blog – it was so lovely sitting on the bed with the beautiful view of the fjord and surrounding mountains while composing the blog – several of our group had complained that there were no chairs to sit on in the room – just a wooden cube at the desk – but when Mike told the Manager some suggestions for improvements, he was told that the owners had specifically said that no changes were to be made to the rooms at all – it was the architect’s “concept” of how the hotel should be! He obviously had not had to get in and out of the bath!

Around noon we decided it was time to try out the pool – an infinity pool, with a sauna and jacuzzi - so imagine our disappointment when we found it locked. On the way back we met several others of our group hoping for a last minute dip before lunch. As time was getting on, and I still had to pack, we decided not to pursue the pool, but just showered and packed at a leisurely rate, arriving at the bar in plenty of time for a drink before lunch. This was part of the compromise of having to leave today – a morning for activities and lunch – the active three (Dave Tracey and Phillip) had gone on a 3 ½ hour hike to see the cave paintings – which as it turned out were not very good, but the hike up through the forests, off the main tracks was excellent, if you were fit. The food was yet again superb – smoked salmon, prawns and scallops, a selection of cold meats and quiches, salads, fruits and deserts – with lots of wine of course.

We made our way to the coach – we were all traveling together in one vehicle now – and set off on the five hour journey to El Calafate. We had to traverse the concrete road again – there were still lots of men working hard on several different sections, while others attended ‘site meetings’ or sat at the side of the road, watching the traffic. We stopped at the same little village as we did yesterday, for just ten minutes, which gave me chance to write and post my last three postcards from Chile, before turning right and walking up the road to the border crossing. In fact, Colin was posting the cards for me (I couldn’t find the post box), while I queued up to get our passports stamped, and when my turn came, the guard just stamped both passports and took the visas without checking who was actually there – Colin was still down the road! We climbed aboard the coach once more and traveled for about ten minutes across ‘no man’s land’ to reach the Argentinean border. We had had more visa forms to fill in, and Mike just collected everyone’s passport and forms and took them in a batch for stamping – apparently each passport took six stamps on the various forms and papers required to enter Argentina. A guard came out to see us safely across the line, and we were soon eating up the miles across more steppe plains and hills towards the shore of Lake Argentina. Part of the road was metalled, but there was a very bumpy section, which when it rains, I understand, is very treacherous. I managed to blog a bit on the way, although if the road got too potholed, I had to stop, as the cursor kept jumping half a page away.

We reached El Calafate and entered quite a smart reception area and waited to be allocated rooms. The first room we were given was poky and dark and had water dripping from the ceiling in the bathroom. We asked for a change, and were given another room, a bit further along the corridor. We went to find the money exchange only to find it closed at 20.00, nearly and hour ago. Back in the lobby we found others who were also dissatisfied with their rooms, had been given alternatives in a different wing of the hotel. We went to see one of these rooms, which was entirely different from the “cell we had been allocated. We returned to reception to ask for a another change, but the receptionist said she had no more rooms in the better wing, and anyway the request had to come through the travel agency. (We had apparently been given our room because we asked for a double bed, and all those in the newer wing were twin bedded). Mike was currently out booking trips to walk on the glacier with crampons for Tracey, Dave and Phillip – our active three. By this time it was almost 21.30 and we still hadn’t eaten any dinner. So we decided it was more important to eat than to change our room. We met Mike on his way back – he had already spoken to several of the rest of the group, so was fully appraised of the situation. He said he was on his way back to sort it.

We found a pizza style restaurant, serving other snacky foods too, which was more than enough for us at that time of night. Linda and Mike joined us, and as we were ordering Mike arrived to join us and to say our room was changed to one of the larger style. The food was ok – not Remota standards, but quite edible – I had a vegetarian pizza with anchovies, and Colin had a tuna salad with chips. And beers – we felt we needed to cut down our wine consumption – probably a bad idea in view of all the room changes!

We returned to the hotel and found we had a larger room, still on the ground floor, facing an inner courtyard, but with lots more space and more modern facilities – much, much better than the claustrophobic dungeon we had first seen. All we needed now was a good night’s sleep.

The Three Towers

Thursday 15 February

We were up, breakfasted and ready to leave for our trip to the National Park, by 08.00. Veronika was our guide for today – a young Chilean lady, who now resides in Basle and plays the oboe in several European orchestras – here, working for a month as a holiday.

The morning was a little overcast as we made our way along the side of the fjord we had traveled yesterday by boat. After about ten kilometres, we came across a major road-building project, where they are laying a new concrete road, which went on for miles - must have been more than thirty kilometres – where many sections had been completed but which the traffic was not yet allowed to use, We criss-crossed back and forth from one side of the new road to the other. Many sections on the temporary road were long stretches of single track operated by “stop / go” boards – where the men (or women) at the passing places were in contact with each other by two way radio. This meant slow progress, as we often had to queue for quite long periods while traffic the other way came through. Once through these roadworks, we stopped at a small town to buy postcards, leather souvenirs - all made in Argentina – and drinks, before making our way into the National Park, by which time we had been driving for more than 3 ½ hours. We stopped a few times to look at condors, soaring above and on one occasion, three condors at the top of a small hill feeding on some dead meat – which our driver thought was probably a guanaco (like a llama, but different) killed by a puma during the night, as another guanaco was standing close by. We also saw large groups of guanacos feeding near the roadside, some red foxes, a lake with a large flock of bright pink flamingos feeding around the edge, families of rheas, and an eagle.

Our first scheduled stop was to see the “Towers” – three great monoliths of rock standing between 2,600 and 2,800 metres high, jagged peaks topped with snow. The sun was trying to break through the clouds by now, but cloud kept passing over the tops of the “Towers” and obscuring the view. We kept watch as we proceeded in the minibus, and every time the cloud cleared and we could see these peaks, the driver would stop for more photos. We traveled around the park, looking at more stunning scenery, until we arrived at a spectacular waterfall – oceans of aquamarine coloured water cascading over a rocky fall, with plumes of white spray and foam spurting high in the air, then confined along a narrow channel to go from one lake to the next. It wasn’t a vast drop, but the amount of water rushing along made the scene phenomenal (you felt the water was trying to push past itself in a crowded place in its anxiety to reach calmer waters). Although sunny when we first arrived, there were a few spits of rain while we were here, and we all prayed that the weather wasn’t going to change. The sky had been full of menacing clouds in the far distance all around us for most of the morning. But we were lucky, this was just a passing shower, and in no time at all, it was dry and sunny again.

It was then time to move on to our lunch stop. We pulled up at what was called a ‘camping ground’, with a restaurant and facilities, but we were led to picnic tables by the lake, with the “Towers” as an amazing backdrop. Veronika produced the bottle of “pisco sours” well shaken, followed by red wine – we were getting used to this scenario – and then gave us each a “lunch box” with two halves of sandwiches in thick white toasted bread – one chicken and peppers, and the other smoked salmon and tomato. Barbara cannot eat wheat, so the hotel had provided an enormous box of salad, with ham and cheese and almost a hundred tiny tomatoes which we all shared too. There were chocolate and cereal bars, and nuts and raisins for dessert. It was a feast. The local sparrows and finches came around to mop up any crumbs we might have dropped.

We continued our journey through the park to the Grey River, Lake and Glacier. We stopped at the top of a hill, and wandered down a leafy track to a large sandbar across the lake, near to the where the river flowed out. The lake was 17 kilometres long and at this point more than a kilometre wide. We walked across the stone and shingle bar to the far side where we looked up the lake and could see the massive glacier falling into the water. The end of the glacier was about 20 metres high – a thick blue body of ice that looked like a frozen waterfall cascading into the lake. I climbed a little way up the cliff at the far side, for a better view - this had once been a small island in the lake (probably composed of moraine originally deposited by the glacier millions of years ago) before the sand and shingle were deposited by the lake so that now the water could only flow around the far side of this hill to the river. It was windy when we first walked on the beach, but nothing like the strength of the wind on the far side – it was very difficult just to stand upright, never mind stand still – it almost blew you over. Consequently the journey back across the bar was made more strenuous as we were battling against the wind. We eventually made it, and met up with several of our group, who had decided that the walk across the sand was a few steps too far, and had sat in the shelter of the trees, basking in the sun, which was very warm by this time.

Back on the minibus at last, it took us three hours (without another stop at the village which had been scheduled) to reach the hotel, and it was almost 20.00 by the time we got there – meaning we had been out almost twelve hours. We were amazed to find that we were the first group back – the two hiking groups were still out!

It was time to change for dinner and make our way for drinks and yet more tasty nibbles in the bar. The other two groups had arrived back within half an hour of us, so it was almost 21.30 before we made our way to dinner. Tonight’s tasty repast was prawn, scallop and avocado salad, followed by salmon and mashed potato with basil, and a dessert which looked a bit like a portion of pale Christmas cake – it was made up of fruits and nuts, topped with a layer of white icing, with ice cream, strawberries and raspberries. All washed down of course with lots of wine – some people have suggested that after this tour we may all need to go to a rehabilition centre to dry out!!!

Veronkia came to the restaurant and gave a short recital on her oboe. She seemed very talented and everyone was enchanted. We then chatted in the bar for a while to the manager and the “Irish” guests, before making our way to bed. We had decided not to do a trip tomorrow but to try and catch up with emails and the blog.

Valentines Day

Wednesday 14 February

It was a real struggle to get up at 05.30 this morning – it was still dark, and looking out of the window – felt quite cool (we’re not allowed to say “chilly” here!). But eager beavers that we were, we were the first to breakfast – yet another buffet with a reasonable selection of the usual foods – but 06.15 is just too early for some of us to think about food.

We all met in the lobby just after 07.00 and were transported by minibuses to the port in Puerta Natales – less than minutes away. Mike wasn’t coming with us today, as he had to sort out when exactly we were leaving and the transport to El Calafate. There were a few boats in the harbour, but we had to wait for another to arrive, that was supposedly bigger, faster and more modern than the other tourist boat there. We watched it slowly (!) weave its way through the waves of the fjord towards us, while we stood in the cold morning air, everyone adding more layers, as the wait lengthened - it was only about twenty minutes, but as the nip in the air attacked fingers, toes and noses, it seemed much longer. The boat, true to what we had been told, was more modern looking than its twin at the dockside – its paint was newer anyway.

We were guided to the bottom deck of the boat where there was a series of seats around bench tables, divided into two compartments by a glass partition – ours near the bow of the boat – with enough seats for us all and a few to spare – and a larger compartment further back which was eventually filled with Spanish and French tourists – and their wayward children (they ran around the deck, encouraged by their father). We all settled ourselves comfortably and waited for the engines to roar – in vain – as we had to wait for another large party to fit into the other tour boat (the one that was smaller, slower and older), and everyone was safely aboard.

To a few cheers, the engine finally revved, and after a few reversing movements we were chugging away from Puerta Natales, along the centre of the fjord known as the Senoret Canal. We passed our hotel – it really did look like a prison from the outside – painted black, long straight, two storey arms reaching out from the centre hub, with large black funnels, hooked over at the ends (air vents?), in a large patch of open meadow. Why does it have to look so hideous from the outside? – it doesn’t fit in with the gaggle of brightly coloured houses and hotels that surround the port.

About fifteen minutes into our journey, we passed a long low red roofed building at Puerto Bories that now acts as the local museum. It was built in 1913 and was once the largest meat packing factory in South America – all the meat from Patagonian Argentina and Chile used to pass through this plant, to be refrigerated or frozen, before being shipped off all over the world. Unfortunately, the business was moved to Santiago, and consequently, the economy of the area declined. After about an hour, we reached the Fiordo Eberhard, where cattle ranching in this region was begun in 1887 by a German, Herr Eberhard. Cattle farming has now become the most important livelihood in this region, both for milk and meat. The fjord then becomes known as the Fiorda Ultima Esperanza. Along the way we passed several farms, one of these being the Estancia Margot (where we would stop for lunch on our return)

Only a little further on we passed a colony of Imperial cormorants – hundreds of majestic black and white birds, looking exactly like penguins as they sat on the rocks and islands just out from the bank, with their backs to the water, but when they fly they become sleek aerodynamic “jet-engines” skimming just above the water, in their quest for food.

Further up the fjord we were not so lucky at finding either sea lions or condors. The weather was still overcast and cold, with a biting wind blowing the full length of the fjord. The sea lions love the sun, so that they can lie and bask on the rocks, while the condors need thermal air currents – pockets of air eddying round and rising up the sides of the mountains - so that they can launch themselves into mid air. They are huge birds and it takes a good current of air to help them soar along the valleys. Today we had neither sun nor thermals. But we continued on, the waterway winding its course through the peaks – many with patches of snow on top. The sun was trying to penetrate the clouds, casting a wan light over cliffs, as they reached straight down into the fjord.

After almost three and a half hours, we reach our goal – the two glaciers – running down either side of a mountain over 2,000 metres above sea level. The first glacier – the Monte Balmaceda, was a thick tongue of ice, smooth at the top and “creviced” at the bottom, flowing down from the top to within about 10 metres of the water. We were amazed at how “blue” the ice was – we know now where the paint companies get their colour “ice blue” from – the front of the tongue of ice was an intense pale blue, where the ice was compacted so densely, that light was reflected back as a colour. We estimated that it stood at around ten metres tall at the front line, a huge thick tongue that now unfortunately was receding back up the mountain – in the last five years it has receded as much as ten meters. The boat slowed its engines so that we could all take photos, and gasp as the sheer size and majesty of this glacier. It was then time to make our way a little further downstream, where we turned a bend and found a simple wooden jetty, with plenty of room for us to “park”. We all clambered off, and followed the appointed leader up a narrow gritty track following the shoreline of a lake – which fed into the main fjord through a small channel. The track took us up and along the side of the mountain, the whole length of the lake, to the Serrano Glacier – which runs down the mountain on the opposite side to the first glacier. As we passed the lake we saw icebergs – from small “cotton wool” clumps of ice to much larger formations, slowly melting in the extremely cold waters – we could see just a small part floating on the surface and a large area disappearing under the water – seem to remember something about only 1/7th is above the waterline. We could see huge cracks to one side at the front, and our guide thought this would be another iceberg in a matter of weeks – just breaking away and floating down the lake! While we were there we twice heard huge resounding cracking sounds coming from the top of the mountain, and small amounts of ice fell metres down the side – the result of the sun shining on the top of the mountain each day. It was very eerie, but we all wanted to see an avalanche!! This was another spectacular example of glaciation. Five yeas ago this glacier had stretched to where we were standing today, a hundred or so metres from its current position and twenty years ago, it covered the whole lake - about an extra kilometre in length.

All too soon it was time to retrace our steps along the track – other tourists were coming in the opposite direction, and sometimes passing was difficult – foreigners do not wait and pass at convenient places – they just keep striding forward and expect everyone else to get out of the way – not at all English! On board the boat we slowly chugged back to the estancia we had passed on the way. Our guides served us all with “pisco sours” with nibbles of mixed nuts and raisins, before we docked for lunch – by now it was about 14.30 and everyone was feeling more than “peckish”. There was a large square building, laid out with tables and chairs to seat a couple of hundred persons. We were shown to one of the tables for our group, and the waiters hovered with red wine and water. We ate mixed vegetable and rice soup before a large iron skillet with a griddle on top, came loaded with chunks and ribs of roasted lamb, chicken, chorizo and frankfurter sausages. Large boiled potatoes were cunningly placed around the edge to keep the meat in place, and separate huge dishes of salad arrived – about three to a table. Jack, husband of Virginia, started serving the meat to everyone, and about half way through, two more large vats of meat and potatoes arrived. The portions were enormous, but the lamb was “melt in the mouth” – Colin was in heaven! Dessert was more tinned fruit salad – strange when they grow so much fresh fruit, that the tinned variety is served so often. And the wine kept flowing. We wandered around a meadow full of summer flowers like daisies, buttercups and sweet williams, as well as many I didn’t know by name, before returning to the boat for tea and coffee. Everyone was now feeling really sated, and an afternoon siesta would have been nice. It took another couple of hours to return to the dock and meet the waiting minibuses to return us to the hotel. The scenery was just as spectacular traveling in reverse. Sweet and chocolate biscuits were provided along with yet more tea and coffee along the way – how were we going to fit in dinner? Mike was waiting at the hotel to tell us the bad news that we would be leaving this hotel on Friday after all, to go to El Calafate, not on Saturday as on our registration cards, but that we would not leave until the afternoon.

We just had time to write a few postcards and change for dinner, before meeting our guides for tomorrow, who explained the options for tomorrow’s itinerary. When we arrived in the bar, Mike had a bunch of singly wrapped roses, in assorted colours and ribbons, which he gave to each man to present to his lady for Valentine’s Day – he was so sweet – Barbara was quite overcome as she said John had never remembered Valentine’s Day at home. Mike also had flowers for Monica and Irene, the two ladies in our group traveling without partners. Due to our shortened stay, it was decided that we should visit the Torres de Paine National Park tomorrow – some for serious hiking (about seven hours), some for shorter hikes (about 4 hours) and the rest of us for a tour of the park in the minibus, stopping to take a few shorter walks to see the scenery. While these decisions were being made, more drinks arrived (it was a free bar afterall) and appetizers of such things as scallops wrapped in bacon, mini samosas filled with vegetables and meat, small toasts with chopped salmon and tomato – all very delicious.

By the time we reached the restaurant – just up a tiled slope, which could be quite slippery – we were beyond worrying that we seemed to have done nothing but eat all day – and enjoyed a mixed cheese salad – cubes of goats, cows and sheeps cheeses – followed by what we finally decided was thick slices of pork tenderloin – about four or five of these each – with a creamy rice and potato mixture. The dessert was chocolate mousse. We stayed and chatted around the table and bar for a while before returning to our rooms – me to make some notes for the blog and Colin to sleep. I am getting way behind with the blog again – but each day is so full of activities, there’s no time to catch up.