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December 11, 2005
Journey to the end of the world
It´s strange that we have made it to the southern most part of Argentina, practically the southern most town in the world, and it reminds us so much of home.
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Ushuaia harbour |
Ushuaia is on most itineraries for the sole reason that it lays claim to being the southern most city in the world. That is, if you don't count the small Chilean naval port of Puerto Williams, which happens to be slightly more southern. Admittedly, this was exactly the reason that I wanted to visit, but once we arrived I quickly realized that there was so much more to the town. Originally a penal colony for some of Buenos Aires most notorious prisoners, Ushuaia is nestled among beautiful snow tipped mountains and situated right on the Beagle Channel. Although it was nearing summer, the weather was crisp and cool, and many evenings we sat inside the warmth of the hostel sipping our wine and watching the snow fall. Ushuaia also serves as the jumping off point for trips to Antarctica, where last minute deals for a ten day trip can be obtained for as little as $3,000 USD, a bargain compared the the $5,000 USD price tag if booked from the US.
On a clear day, a boat trip on the Beagle Channel provides excellent views of Ushuaia and it's surrounding mountains. Ours was not a clear day, but the trip still provided many highlights. Avoiding the newer and more expensive catamarans of most companies, we sailed on the more historic Barracuda. Built in in 1950 and transfered to Ushuaia in 1975, it became the first boat to run tours on the Beagle Channel. The captain preserved all of the charm from the original construction, including a quaint dining room where the cold of outside can be escaped with a warm tea.
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Tourists? Us? Never |
As we approached a rock dubbed "bird island", thousands of seagulls could be seen hovering and swooping in rhythm to the classical music that played in the warmth of the dining cabin. Stepping outside onto the viewing deck, I became immersed in a frantic scene as birds darted everywhere, their incessent screeching emphasizing my sentiments as I elbowed through a throng of tourists to obtain a viewing spot. The boat headed on from the frenzied Bird Island to a much more tranquil Sea Lion Island, where the lazy creatures lounged around and occasionally barked at our boat, which was floating close enough to the rock for me to reach out and touch one. Hail, followed by rain soon sent everybody scurrying in to the dining cabin to watch the rest of the trip from the windows.
Like most places in Argentina, Ushuaia recieves a fair share of tourists. After a scenic hike through the Tierra Del Fuego national park, we arrived at the end of Ruta 3 (the farthest south you can travel by land in Argentina) and greeted by a parking lot full of tour buses. The sign marking the end of the road had been transformed into a lineup of tourists waiting to have their photos taken. One guy we talked to had arrived from the hike and waited half an hour for the tour groups to clear before getting his photo. I would like to say that we have become hardened travellers who don't go for the cheesy photos, but who am I kidding... we got right in there with everyone else.
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mmm...Malbec |
After spending almost eighty hours on the bus in Argentina, we rewarded ourselves with a flight back up north and wasting no time, we headed to the wine capital of Argentina, Mendoza. The warm, dry climate of the region allows for over a thousand vineyards to flourish, their specialties being the Malbec and Syrah wines. Our wine tour took us to two different wineries, both contrasting in their methods and size. The larger of the two resembled more of a factory than a winery and didn't capture my image of a quaint bodega. For the actual wine tasting, they gave us samples of their lowest quality wines, which weren't anything special. This didn't inspire us to lay down money for a more expensive bottle that we hadn´t tried. The French owners of the second, smaller bodega decided a few years ago to buy an old vineyard and try their luck in wine making. Without any prior experience, they managed to produce two award winning wines. They gave us their best and it was incredible. I definitely don't consider myself wine savvy, but it was the best I have ever tasted.
Because our hostel in Mendoza had prior reservations, we were given the boot after only two nights and our Argentina adventure seemed to come to an very anticlimatic end. Our decision to leave was made in the same fashion that most decisions are made while travelling. On recommendation, we set off for the town of Valparaiso, just north of Santiago. Entering Chile from Argentina became one of my most frustrating experiences with border crossings. Signs with angry sheep, cows, and vegetables tell of the legal implications of bringing such foods into the country. During the forty-five minute search, our sealed pack of Sun Dried tomatoes were confiscated and thrown in the "garbage." Jerks.
Our first few days in Chile were a bit of a blur. We made it to Valparaiso, but we had both contracted a wicked throat infection which made swallowing unbelieveably painful and sightseeing impossible. After two sleepless nights, we seeked medical help thinking that if we could just get some antibiotics everything would be fine. We sat in the waiting room of the hospital along with a couple stray dogs and a few handcuffed prisoners waiting for our names to be called. They mixed up our genders and I was directed in as Sinead Whitehead to see the doctor. After a quick look at my throat, it was determined that I had an infection. The conversation went something like this:
"You have an infection which will require penicillin"
"OK"
"Have you taken penicillan before?"
"Yeah, I´ve taken it"
"2.5 Mg, that's going to hurt"
"Yeah. Wait, what??"
Moments later, I was face down on a hospital bed getting the most painful injection I have ever had in my butt. It was Sinead´s turn next and she received the same treatment. At least there was no charge for their services. We limped back to the hostel and slept through most of the day, waiting for the penicillin to kick in.
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Delicately placed restaurant |
In only took a day for us to feel better and we had time to explore Valparaiso which now takes the lead as my favorite city in South America. The structure of this port city is among the most unique that we have come across. Rising up from the Pacific Ocean are various cerros, or hills, each will an archaic mix of vividly painted houses, mansions, and shacks. Some structures are so precariously perched on the hills, that it seemed as if a huge gust of wind could send them toppling to the streets below. Cerros are serviced by ascensores - rickety elevators that transport pedestrians from the bottom to the top. Orginally twenty-nine of these ascensores were constructed between 1883 and 1925, but only fifteen remain. They operate on a counterweight pulley system, one car goes down while the other goes up. They are shaky and don't entirely feel safe, but offer some of the best views of the city. It is easy to spend hours wandering the streets marvelling at the beautiful chaos that make up the neighbourhoods. For a retreat, a modern metro tram train shuttles passengers along the water to the typical resort town of Viña Del Mar, which provided us with a beach to pass our final full day in South America.
On the eve of our last night in South America, we are sad to leave this amazing continent, but anxious to start on the next leg of the journey. The snow in Ushuaia made us think of Christmas, and we are looking forward to meeting up with my family in New Zealand to celebrate the holidays.
Click Here to see the Ushuaia/Mendoza photos
Click Here to see the Chile photos
Posted by brett at December 11, 2005 07:43 AM