Puerto Madryn is a tourist hub. Every store window displays fuzzy stuffed penguins, whale tail toques or figurines of both mammals in every medium known to man. Whale size tour buses stuffed with people and even more cameras pulse in and out, the lifeblood of the thriving town. For a fraction of the cost of joining them, we opted for independence and reunited with the Turner brothers we met in Quito to rent our very own sporty Volkswagon Gulf. With Brett behind the wheel, and our music blaring, we cruised down to Punto Tombo, two hours south of Puerto Madryn in search of penguins.

A quarter of the world´s population of Magellanic Penguins live in Punto Tombo - that is when they are not vacationing in Brazil. They spend months at a time at sea sleeping on the surface of the water, but every spring just under a million penguins nest on the shores of the Southern Atlantic to raise their little ones.

We spotted our first penguin poking about in the bushes on the roadside and as we parked the car we saw a few more waddling across the road. On foot, we crossed an overpass to what we coined the Penguin Highway where massive groups of penguins waddle hurriedly to and from the beach with astounding purpose. I was suprised at how fast they could move with such dorky strides. We followed the Penguin Highway to the rocky beach and watched them hit the water and flop onto their bellies. Here is where their expertise lies. Once in the water, the penguins darted around with startling agility. By the way they moved, you wouldn´t believe that they spend so much time on land. Once lunch had been caught or the refreshing swim was over, the nimble sea creature headed straight for shore righting itself quickly and impossibly like a teetering bowling pin and resumed his clumsly walk.

Following the Penguin Highway in the opposite direction, we stumbled across several suburbs of penguin nests where mothers nurse their noisy young. Regurgitating their lunch to feed the screaming chicks would quiet them for a while, other times they would sit on offending ones to muffle their cries until they eventually ceased. The chicks become more and more demanding as they grow to adolecents. They greedily cry for more and more food and expectantly nudge the parent in the direction of the water. The penguins eventually get so fed up with their adolescents milking off them that they have to kick them out of the nest.

We took the flat and dusty dirt road back to Puerto Madryn that seemed neverending due to the unchanging landscape. After driving through such an isolated desolate land for four hours, it was nice to come back for a proper meal and a nightcap. When Brett asked a local Argentinian drunkard to take a picture of all of us, he either took it to mean that we wanted one with him in it or decided that no picture is complete without him. He nestled in between us, gave someone close by the camera and bought us drinks until we could drink no more. The next morning was painful, but we made it out of bed early for our second day of freedom.

Just two hours north of Puerto Madryn, Peninsula Valdez is the local 7-11 for Orca whales who practically beach themselves for the sinful treat of a sun warmed seal. We saw oodles of tasty snacks basking tantalizingly close to the water, but this time there were no takers. Male Elephant Seals can reach up to a fabulous 6000 pounds and may not be as easy to lift from the shore as their 2000 pound ladies. At Punto Tombo, we avoided the crowd by going in the late afternoon, but on Pennisula Valdez, we were right alongside several large tourist vessels. At one point a German woman held up the train of tourists in order to take a picture of her husband holding up one hand, then the other hand, then both hands. I´m not sure if they ever got their desired effect, but we much preferred having the park to ourselves.

We said goodbye to Dom and Luke and headed further south to El Calafate where the nights grew longer and the temperature dropped. We visited the Glacier Perito Moreno which is said to be the most incredible of over 350 glaciers in Patagonia because it stretches five kilometres across the waters of Brazo Rico and stands sixty metres above water level. We´d hear massive creaks on several occasions and sometimes turn just in time to see a massive chunk of ice split off the glacier and plunge into the water below with a deafening roar. Other times, we saw only the aftermath of an ice explosion and large chunks of ice would bob to the surface and float across the lake on the massive wake that was created.

After standing with all the other tourists, cameras poised to capture the next great explosion office we took a walk down to the boat where we could see the glacier up close. On the way, we had our lunch on a secluded rock with our own private view of the glacier at water level.

We stayed for a few nights north of El Calafate in El Chalten and spent two full days trekking in our towering surroundings. Originally mistaken as a volcano because of the many clouds that surround it, the village of El Chalten (the volcano) retains the original name for Fitz Roy. Our first hike, and supposedly the more impressive, was to the base of Fitz Roy, the highest peak in Patagonia at 3,400 metres. While not even as high as some cities we´ve visited, when you are closer to sea level, the steep granite face of Fitz Roy is more dramatic than most of the other mountains we have seen on the trip. Too steep for snow, the jagged rocks thrust into the sky in stark contrast to the surrounding glaciers. Unfortunately for us, the weather was terrible. We were hit with a massive snow storm part way through the journey and visiblility became non existent. But we kept on trekking and reached Lago de los Tres, a frozen lake at the base of Fitz Roy where the wind is unrelentless - hurling snow at us and whistling through the valley. We soon became so cold that we had to turn back. After a quick look at an emerald lake below, we high tailed it through the deep snow and back to the sheltered side of a nearby mountain and retraced our steps back to the warmth of our hostel.

We were cursing ourselves the next morning when we headed out for our second hike, our legs a little stiffer and less agreeable than the previous day. The sun was out and only a few unthreatening clouds were shrouding the snow tipped mountains. We hiked this time to the iceberg laden Lago Torre and were able to get some great views of another peak, Torre and smaller counterpart, Egger. Unfortunately for us, Fitz Roy was on the other side of a large mountain range and although the skies were clear, we never really got an unobstructed view of it until the cloudless morning we left El Chalten. Even after two hours on the bus in the opposite direction, we could still see its peak rising in the distance.

As we prepare now for our early morning (4am) twelve hour journey that will take us through Chile and south to Tierra Del Fuego, we hope that the incredible weather continues in the southernmost town in the world, Ushuaia.

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