Friday, December 29, 2006

Tatio Geysers, Atacama Desert, Chile


Having only managed to sleep for a couple of hours I'm deliberating whether to get up for my 4am pick-up to the Tatio geothermal fields 99km out of town. I manage to make it but it's the most uncomfortable two-hour ride on a rocky uneven track in a dilapidated minivan. I abandon any hope of catching up on my sleep as I'm tossed from one end of the seat to the other.

It's dawn when we arrive and minus five degrees. I hadn't bargained for minus temperatures and even though I'm wearing three layers I could use a hat and gloves. We're at 4320 metres and I don't feel any effects of altitude until I start walking.

I try to take in what I see but I've never seen anything like this before. A field of geysers is in the process of erupting, sending plumes of steam and water into the air up to six metres high. I navigate my way carefully through the field hoping I don't accidentally step on one about to go off. Several people have died this way in the past few years. The geysers, most active between 0630 and 0830 in the morning, are formed by cold river water mixing with magma underground.

A couple of hours after sunrise it's unbearably hot again so it's off to the Puritama thermal pools for a quick dip in the luke warm waters before I head back to town to see what it has to offer.

Valle de la Luna, Atacama Desert, Chile


It's an 18-hour bus journey from La Serena to San Pedro de Atacama, a tiny dusty town on the edge of the Atacama Desert with fewer than 3000 inhabitants. During the night while driving we climb to over 3000 metres and my ears pop several times.

In San Pedro the 'must-see' is the Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley) and I arrange a tour which will take me first to the Valley of Death which is only 2km from town followed by Moon Valley.

It's 35 degrees in the Valley of Death, so called because someone mistook the word for the planet Mars (Marte) for the Spanish word for death (muerte) and the name stuck. The valleys are part of the salt mountain range that have been eroded by wind and rain leaving towering mineral sculptures.

The Valle de la Luna is an alien rocky landscape, given its name because of its resemblance to the moon's surface. I feel like I'm in another world. In the early evening I climb to point between a rocky ridge and a perfect sand dune and watch the sun cast long shadows across the spectacular landscape until it finally sets.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Mamalluca Observatory, Elqui Valley, Chile


In the evening I visit the Mamalluca Observatory, about an hour's drive from La Serena, in the Elqui Valley. As a novice stargazer who can only confidently identify Orion, I'm keen to learn more.

There are a number of observatories on the hills in the valley and it soon becomes apparent why. By 10pm the sky is blanketed with stars, and with a laser pen our guide points out various constellations, although you still need a lively imagination to bring them to life.

Through the telescope I'm able to see in detail the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, gleaming like a blue-tinged diamond, a dying red star, the nearest major galaxy, Andromeda, and craters on the moon. I can also see my beloved Orion.

(Photo - the moon through the telescope)

La Serena, Chile


La Serena has transformed into a lively bustling town since yesterday. While the others have gone off on a penguin tour I decide to see what it has to offer so walk up to the main square, the Plaza de Armas, where there's a tourist office. Apart from a handful of churches and museums and obviously the beach, it seems that the town serves as a base for tours into the Elqui Valley where there are a number of vineyards and pisco factories.

I decide to have a look at the churches, dating from the 17th century, and the Japanese Garden (Jardin del Corazon) which is recommended in my guide book. Most of the churches I visit, apart from the cathedral on the main square, are closed as it's afternoon, but are attractive architecturally. The Japanese Garden is one of the best I've seen. It's tranquil and well-maintained and I look forward to spending an afternoon here away from the dust and noise.

(Photo - Japanese Garden (Jardin del Corazon))

La Serena, Chile


On arriving in La Serena, our immediate priority is to call home as it's Christmas Day, so we spend a futile hour walking around town trying to find somewhere open. A couple of people are in tears as the phone cards they've bought don't work. Eventually an internet cafe that has a phone booth opens near our hostel and we all wait in line patiently to call.

As nowhere's open except one cafe, we have hot dogs and burgers for dinner and go to bed shattered.

Christmas Eve, Santiago


Christmas (Eve) dinner consists of steak and chips followed by salsa dancing in a restaurant in Santiago. Even Santa makes an appearance to dole out presents for the children.

It's an early start to Christmas Day. I have joined a group travelling into Bolivia and we have a six-hour bus journey to La Serena leaving at 7.40am. I can sense the air is getting hotter and drier. Unfortunately the air con is broken so we're all a bit sweaty and disgruntled by the time we arrive. I also have a grisly child sitting next to me, and even with ear plugs I'm unable to make much progress on Anna Karenina.

(Photo - the Brits on Christmas Eve)

Sunday, December 24, 2006

San Francisco Church & Cerro Santa Lucia, Santiago


Having slightly recovered from my camera shock yesterday, I'm depressed to find that there doesn't seem to be a Canon specialist service until Lima, which is a month and a half away. Until then I'll have to rely on my point-and-shoot.

To take my mind off the trauma I visit San Francisco Church, the oldest in Santiago. It's a huge red-walled building finished in 1618. Adjacent is the monastery and Museo Colonial containing religious art, displayed in rooms around the lovely cloisters.

As Cerro Santa Lucia, a cone of rock, is opposite my hotel I decide to climb it despite the warnings about bag snatchers. At the entrance I'm surprised to have to sign in. The guard jokes that it's in case I get murdered at the top. It's a short but steep climb to the top and offers great views of the city. There are security guards and couples kissing around every corner.

(Photo - monks outside San Francisco Church)

Cerro San Cristóbal, Santiago, Chile


Walking around the centre of Santiago which is relatively compact it doesn't seem unique from any other city. The streets are wide, some are pedestrianised with shops, and it's very busy with people doing last-minute Christmas shopping.

I'd like to see if Santiago is any more appealing from a height so take the funicular up to Cerro San Cristóbal, a conical hill in the northeast of the city. It forms part of the Metropolitan Park, with great views of the sprawling city and mountains. At the summit is a colossal statue of the Virgin.

At the top I notice I have dust in my camera and stupidly try to administer emergency surgery with the result that I only make it worse. With only a few hours before everyone shuts up for Christmas, I descend via the teleferico (cable car), which also has great views, and head into town.

After trying nearly every camera shop in town and being sent from one place to another, I find someone who calls himself a technician. By the way this is what not to do! He leads me to a shabby little room, like a camera graveyard, with broken cameras stacked high. I start to get a little nervous when he disappears behind a shelf and says I can't see what he's doing. It takes him an hour and a half to pull apart bits of my camera, and even washes one part under the tap! Completely shocked, with my camera in bits, I can only watch in despair and hope he hasn't ruined it. Looking through the lens breaks my heart. It's dustier than before and now has dirty streaks across it.

(Photo - view of Santiago from Cerro San Cristóbal)

Valparaíso, Chile


I was planning an early start but I don't manage to get to the bus station until 10am which means I arrive in Valparaiso at 11.30. I fall in love with Valparaiso immediately. I was expecting something like Positano on the Amalfi coast but this place is much bigger. Sprawling over its 42 hills (cerros), a multicoloured patchwork of mansions, tattered houses and shacks lead down to the sea. When I consult my guidebook it says the population is only 300,000 but it seems a lot more. 15 funiculars (ascensores) and a series of steep winding roads connect the lower town, known as El Plan, to the hills. There is an evident chasm between rich and poor here. The well-to-do live in large mansions alongside the dilapidated shacks of the poor.

I take to the trolley bus, affectionately known as 'el trolley' to the main square, Plaza Sotomayor. There's not much to see apart from a monument dedicated to Arturo Prat. I move on to the oldest square in town, Echaurren. In my guide book it mentions it's overrun with old drunks but I can't see any. There are a number of middle-aged and older men in shabby suits but that's nothing unusual. As I walk past one, I get a quick flash of his bloodshot eyes and realise these are the drunks.

I take El Peral ascensor, built in 1902, up to Cerro Alegre. From here I walk through labyrinthine streets, climb narrow stone staircases until I reach Cerro Concepcion and Cerro Bellavista. Both these have long been a haven for artists and students, lending them a slightly bohemian feel. There are also great views of the hills and bay.

On my way up to Pablo Neruda`s house, La Sebastiana, I stop to talk to two ladies chatting in a street of brightly painted houses. Here shocking pink meets turquoise. I ask if they`re allowed to choose their own colours as I can't imagine anyone voluntarily wanting a shocking pink house. She says the council provides them with a colour palette and pays for all the labour. They only need to pay for the paint. As I leave she warns me to be careful. 'Chileans are thieves' she laughs.

La Sebastiana reminds me a little of Dali's house in Port Lligat. There are nooks and crannies on each floor; there are flamboyant touches and almost every room has large panoramic views of the city and bay.

Into Chile - Santiago


Several bus companies run trips to Santiago throughout the day. Instead of taking five hours it takes me eight hours including a couple waiting around at the Chilean border. The border is a strictest I've seen so far in South America and I end up having both my bags searched. One poor guy is forced to open his Christmas presents.

The drive to the border is the same drive I took yesterday but without the stops. After the border we descend into a dramatic deep valley before entering the smoggy outskirts of Santiago. At first Santiago seems rough and a bit decrepit and I remember how I liked Buenos Aires instantly. After checking in and being told to be wary of bag snatchers on Cerro Lucia, the hill behind my hotel, I decide instead to walk up to the main square, Plaza de Armas. A giant Christmas tree dominates the square across from stalls selling trinkets. It's the first time I've felt the slightest bit Christmassy and it's a bit strange to be completely disengaged in the festivites this year.

Although it may lack the sophistication of Buenos Aires, Santiago seems more 'western' in some respects. It has embraced international brands such as Starbucks (the first I've seen in South America), Pizza Hut, Nine West and Lush. I'm delighted to see they even have Frizz Ease products and large book shops.

(Photo - Santiago from Cerro Lucia)

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Wine tasting, Mendoza, Argentina


No trip to Mendoza is complete without a trip to a winery. 70% of the wine produced in Argentina comes from the Mendoza region and I must admit I have become partial to the odd glass Malbec lately.

I visit La Rural and Don Arturo - two very different wineries or 'bodegas'. In both I'm taken on a tour of the vineyards and educated on the process of harvesting, production and storage of wines. And then comes the fun part - the tasting.

Puente del Inca (Inca Bridge), Argentina

Andean foothills (near Mendoza), Argentina


I've decided to stay a day more than I had planned in Mendoza. I'd really like to get a view of Aconcagua, the highest peak in the Americas at 6959 metres, so I`ve booked myself onto tour which takes us through the foothills of the Andes close to the Chilean border.

Leaving Mendoza we pass through semi-desert landscape of scrubby bushes but soon we`re climbing steeply into the mountains. It's a 17 km drive with 365 bends from the famous Villavicencio Hotel to the first viewpoint of Aconcagua at Cruz del Paramillo at 3000 metres. The route through deeply scarred valleys and colourful terrain reminds me of the Tizi N Tichka pass in the Atlas Mountains. The shades vary from reds and browns to green, yellow, white and black. It truly is stunning landscape and though I take a number of photos it doesn`t come close to capturing the colours of the mountains.

Our first viewpoint of Aconcagua (meaning 'Sentinel of Stone') is at 3100 metres. We have a better view later on. We pass through Uspallata, a small town of 4000 people in a fertile valley between two ranges of mountains known as the 'Cordon de Plata' (Silver Chain), named because in strong sunlight the snowy peaks resemble silver, and the 'Cordon de Tigre' (Tiger Chain), names as such because as the snow melts it resembles tiger stripes. Uspallata means 'quiet and silent' and it's here where Brad Pitt filmed 'Seven Years in Tibet'.

We reach a viewpoint that's 24km from Aconcagua and it looks truly majestic with its permanently snow-capped peak. I'm told only a handful of people have climbed the south face as it's almost vertical. We then stop at 'Puente del Inca' a completely natural bridge over the Mendoza River believed to have been formed 15,000 years ago. No one knows exactly how it was formed but one of the theories is that an avalanche covered the fast flowing river, which eventually carved a route through the rocks. The mythical version is that when the Incas arrived at the river and were unable to cross, they lay down to form a bridge so that the king and his son could walk across. When the king looked back, they had turned to stone. The bridge is bright yellow due to sulphur seeping through the ground.

(Photo - foothills of the Andes)

Friday, December 22, 2006

Bad times in Mendoza


It's a bad start to Mendoza. I arrive at Buenos Aires Aeroparque airport to chaos. I can barely squeeze through the doors as the departure hall is packed with frustrated travellers. All the check-in desks are surrounded by angry people so it's impossible to find someone to talk to. On the monitors it shows all flights as delayed. I'm standing bemused with no idea what to do when I bizarrely spot my Patagonian tour guide in the crowd. He tells me there was a storm in Buenos Aires last night which damaged the control tower antennae? and it doesn't look like anyone will be flying today.

There's nothing to do but hang around and see what happens. I even make a start on Anna Karenina which I've been lugging in my backpack since the start of my trip. My flight, at 5pm is cancelled and I'm put on standby for a flight at midnight. After all the queueing and waiting I feel lucky to get on.

I arrive in Mendoza at 2am shattered. The hotel where I'm supposed to be staying is full so I end up crashing on their sofa until the morning when I can check in. After a couple of hours sleep I decide to walk around the city. I'm pleasantly surprised. Mendoza is a lot bigger than I envisaged, with a population of over one million It's sits at the foot of the Andes and is surrounded by vineyards and wineries. Its wide tree-lined streets are bustling with beautiful people. There are cafes and ice cream parlours everywhere and the shady squares remind me a little of Savannah in the US. I like it here immediately. I start by visiting some of the leafy squares in the centre of town. One of the most attractive is the Plaza Espana, which has beautiful tiled benches and a mural illustrating the epic gaucho poem, Martin Fierro.

While I'm busily photographing tiles I'll called over by four women in gyspy dress. They ask me to sit down and ask me where I'm from. The conversation is going swimmingly well until one of them wants to read my palm. There are some (quiet) bells going off in my head but at the time I think it might be amusing to see if it's the same spiel I've heard before. She leads me to a bench, looks at my palm and tells me that I suffer from loneliness and have a lack of love in my life. Oh dear. I have heard it all before. She says she can 'fix' the problem and keeps repeating the phrase 'You have no idea how powerful I am'. I should have walked away at that point but I was curious to see how it would pan out.

She says she doesn't want any money and then asks me for a piece of paper so I give her an old post-it note I find in my bag. She then asks for a note (of money) but says she'll give it back. I give her one of not much value and half expect her to run off with it, although she´s no Linford Christie. Instead she scrunches it up in her hand and pours water over it, mashing it into a pulp. I watch this bemusedly with no idea what's happening, apart from the fact that somehow I am being conned. In a menacing deep voice, not dissimilar to the Exorcist girl, she asks for another note. Afraid of being stabbed at this point I hand over another note which she proceeds to scrunch up and pour water over too while chanting some indecipherable babble. I'm not sure how I'm going to get extricate myself from this awkward situation but then I spot the money in her hand, grab it and walk off. She shouts after me that I'll be cursed forever. When I look back I see that her gypsy friend is holding her back and saying to me 'Don`t worry you'll be very lucky in life.' Evidently.

(Photo - Plaza Espana)

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Caleta Valdes, Valdes Peninsula


Valdes Peninsula, Argentina



The only way I could see other areas of the Valdes Peninsula without hiring a car is to sign up for a tour. Our first stop is Punta Norte, 75km from Puerto Piramides on rough gravel roads. Here seals and sea lions live in harmony. I spot a large male elephant seal on the beach and I wonder whether he`s a 'beachmaster'. Beachmasters get to mate with all the female seals in their harem. For this privilege he needs to control his patch by fighting off any challengers. The largest harem known on the peninsula contained 130 female elephant seals. The beachmaster was named 'Pavarotti'.

At times Orcas come up on to the beach to catch seals. 95 percent of the time they let them go again. It`s purely a lesson for young Orcas on how to feed themselves. Unfortunately we don't see any today.

Our next stop for more seal watching is Caleta Valdes, an elongated creek 50km from Punta Norte. Here savage winds have eroded the land and carved out sand banks separating the sea from a number of shallow channels. It's so windy it's a struggle to stay upright. The air is hot and dry and the sand sticks to my face.

(Photo - seals at Punta Norte)

Monday, December 18, 2006

Whale watching in Puerto Piramides, Valdes Peninsula


Today I'm heading out to the Valdes Peninsula hoping to see some whales. Since Antarctica I have become fascinated by these elusive creatures. I'm due to catch the 7.40am bus to Puerto Piramides but it doesn´t turn up until 8.30. Ten minutes into the three-hour journey, the bus breaks down for no apparent reason and me and seven other passengers wait half an hour for a replacement bus.

Puerto Piramides is a tiny place situated on the Golfo Nuevo on the Valdes Peninsula. It's dry, dusty and the wind is continually kicking up sand. I had originally planned on staying here for three or four days but am now relieved I changed my plans as there doesn`t seem to be a lot to do (apart from whale watching). It's also the end of the season when the Southern Right Whale (Ballena Franca Austral) migrates to Antarctica to feed on krill, so whale sightings are by no means guaranteed.

There appears to be five or six places offering whale watching tours but the first I enquire at isn`t going out today as it's too windy. I book at the next place I visit and then head 400 metres up the (only) road, quaintly named 'Avenida de Ballenas' (Whale Avenue). The wind is whipping up the dust and by the time I arrive I'm again resembling a Scooby-Doo monster.

On the boat the high winds make the sea rough and choppy but we still manage to spot three or four pods. One of the whales is 17 metres long. A resounding 'wow' echoes around the boat. Amazing creatures.

El Desafio, Gaiman, Argentina


Punta Tombo, Argentina


Punta Tombo is a nature reserve about 100km from Trelew. It has the largest colony of Magellanic Penguins on the continent, which can reach over a million. The landscape enroute is uninteresting - flat, dry and deserty for the most part.

Inside the reserve thousands of black and white penguins, characterised with a v-neck stripe, are busy rearing their chicks. The newborns are grey, fluffy and slightly awkward-looking. Under almost every bush there's a penguin nest. Some are really close to the (tourist) trails but the penguins seems completely unperturbed by us. Only 10% of the reserve is open to visitors so the penguins can live relatively undisturbed.

On the way back, the tour guide announces we're going to Gaiman. I`m not too alarmed as I think I could have missed something interesting yesterday. Unfortunately this is not the case. I end up revisiting all the same places and when we arrive at the same tea house I went to yesterday I decide to go off and visit 'El Desafio', the recycled park I snubbed yesterday. It's an odd but charming kind of place looked after by an elderly man. Every enclosure or exhibit has been made out of rubbish i.e. plastic bottles, cans and scrap metal etc. It's a bit run down but very colourful. There are cliched messages pinned everywhere but some of these you never tire of? One of my favourites is ´Live your life however you want. Just live it'.

Trelew & Gaiman, Argentina


I didn´t really get a good look at Trelew (pronounced Tre-lay-oo) on the short taxi ride from the airport last night but first impressions were disappointing - wide streets and nondescript buildings. My hotel on the other hand is lovely. Hotel Touring Club or 'El Touring' for those in the know has a gorgeous 1920`s bar and grand sweeping staircase, even if the rooms are a bit dorm-like. The candlewick bedspread brought back fond memories of my childhood. It has an impressive list of former clientele including eminent poets and presidents.

The day after I arrive I visit three travel agencies to try and arrange visits to the Valdes Peninsula and Punta Tombo. One quotes me USD 1000 for two nights which is way above my budget. Finally I find a tour going to Punta Tombo tomorrow where the largest colony of Magellanic Penguins in South America is located, complete with newly-hatched chicks. I'm less successful with the Valdes Peninsula part.

As Trelew doesn`t appeal in the daytime either, I decide to take the local bus to Gaiman (pronounced Guy-man), apparently the most Welsh of the communities in Patagonia with a population of 6000. Gaiman is the Tehuelche word meaning a stone that sharpens tools. The bus ride takes half an hour and passes through the dry scrubby landscape of the Chubut Valley. I`m dropped off in ghost town and almost expect to see tumbleweeds. It's dry, dusty and hot and I've gone from two degrees and four layers of clothes in Ushuaia to 30 degrees and a t-shirt here. The mosquitoes are also back. I can`t see any obvious signs of Welshness, but then I`m not sure what to expect. Every street off the main one seems to lead to a mound of gravel. In a shop I ask the way to the tourist office, half expecting the man to laugh at me but one exists. The tourist office is a cavernous lobby with a small desk in the corner. It`s empty, apart from me, and the girl behind the desk anticipates my question: - 'You want to know what to do in Gaiman?' Relieved that there is something to see I say yes. She takes out a map and marks crosses where the oldest house, post office and school are located, the best viewpoint of the town, the Welsh chapels and some Welsh tea houses. She says that Lady Di (or D as they call her) famously had tea in one of these.

I start with the viewpoint which means walking a 100 metres up a gravel hill. I'm not very high up but it confirms my first impression of Gaiman as a tiny place. I don´t bother with the first school or post office but go to see the first house, built into the ground and with a corrugated metal roof. The Welsh chapels are closed but the Gothic-style windows and surrounding poplars give off an eerie feel I can`t define. Having exhausted most of what to do in Gaiman in half an hour I look forward to a good cup of tea and some cake. I choose a busy tea house called ´Ty Gwyn' (White House in Welsh) which is run by descendants of original Welsh settlers. I haven`t had a good cup of tea in ages and it`s good. I also get to sample six different cakes. I've only managed to take four photos today which I think is a record for me.

(Photo - Bethel Chapel, Gaiman)

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Post Office and other trials


I have so far restrained myself from ranting about post offices in South America but I can´t contain myself any longer. Today I managed to spend two and half hours in the post office in Ushuaia. That must surely be a record. You wouldn't think it was possible but somehow going to the post could take you most of the day.

I´m a regular p.o visitor on this continent as I'm forever finding things in my backpack that I think I don't need and decide to send home. Carrying 23 kilos has made me keenly monitor the ingoing and outgoing contents of my luggage. Anyway, I decided my sleeping bag was not an essential item and wanted to send it home together with a book I'd bought (in the heavy category) together with some other things elsewhere.

Confusingly to start with there doesn't seem to be a proper queue. A cluster of people are gathered at three separate counters waving bits of paper and clutching packages. I don't want to wait for ages in the wrong queue (learnt that lesson already) so I tell the smiliest official that I`d like to send some packages to England. He tells me to stand in one of the lines (or clusters). After 15 minutes it's my turn and and he goes through all my things and hands me three forms to go away and fill in. 'Do I need to queue again?' I ask. 'No, no' he replies 'just come back when you've filled them in'. So far so good. When I rejoin the cluster clutching my forms, he weighs my package which must weigh a ton as it costs me 40 quid to send home. The upside is it must take my backpack lighter! I obediently hand over the money and then ask about my other smaller package.

'Oh no, I only have large boxes. You'll need to send it in an envelope by EMS. That`s in that queue' he says (pointing to a slightly more orderly cluster) and hands me some more forms. With no alternative I start queueing behind 30-odd people. I can see two people behind the counter and look at my watch. It`s slow progress to the front. New people coming into the post office seem to know someone in the queue and after a quick greeting end up pushing in. People with children are also called to the front of the line but it's not this so much that annoys me. It's those who can't be bothered to queue (I use this term loosely) and go up to the counter pretending to only want to ask a question and end up staying.

It's also my last day in Ushuaia. I'm flying to Trelew tonight and very unlike me I haven't arranged anywhere to stay. I'm forced to consult my guidebook and call the first place that sounds decent. I ask the man on the phone if he has any vacancies for tonight. He tells me to get a cab to the hotel when I arrive and if there isn't any room he'll send me somewhere else. What kind of hotel is this?

At the airport I`m disappointed to see that my luggage hasn't shed any weight. In fact I have incomprehensibly gained a kilo somewhere. Sipping my glass of champagne in business class (there was no space in economy) slightly makes up for this. One of the cabin crew clocks I'm English and hands me the Buenos Aires Herald. Ashamedly I haven't read any news for ages and am shocked to learn that Pinochet died (last week) and that there's a serial killer on loose near Ipswich.

(Photo - lupins in Ushuaia)

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Glaciar Martial, Ushuaia, Argentina


View of the Beagle Channel


Glaciar Martial, Ushuaia, Argentina


After a couple of days of not doing very much in Ushuaia (and Alba making me feel guilty) I decide to visit Glaciar Martial even though I´ve been told been told it`s not that impressive. To be honest I'm more interested in taking the chair lift and seeing Ushuaia and the Beagle Channel from an elevated viewpoint.

Hmm they are not big on health & safety here. Once on the chairlift there is nothing separating me from certain death but a tiny bar at hip level. I decide to keep deadly still on the way up. A few minutes in, my chair starts to vibrate violently and I breath a sigh of relief when it passes. The ride takes a good 15 minutes and I can see a man furiously waving at me to lift the hip bar up as the chair is on a carousel. I try but it won´t move. I tell him it's stuck. Looks like I'll be going down again. 'Take your feet off the bar' he yells. I feel a bit stupid.

Once off the chairlift I decide I have seen enough glaciers for a while and follow the panoramic viewpoint signs. Of course everyone else is heading for the glacier so I am blissfully alone. The views are certainly impressive.

I take the chairlift down and remember the bar this time. I decide I`ll walk the 7km back into town. Alba recommended I take a forest trail by a river instead of the road. I can´t find any signs pointing to a trail so I walk down the winding road. A car stops to offer me a lift but I have my ipod and the sun is shining so I decline. Half-way down I see a track off to the left and wonder whether this is the trail Alba was talking about.

In the dense beech forest the path winds back on itself several time so I`ve no idea where I`m going. Do I turn back before it's too late? El Chalten flashes through my head, but as I get occasionally glimpses of the town so I feel safe.

As I´m listening to my ipod I hear a loud crunch in the trees. I take out my ear phones and hear a high-pitched squealing followed by an eerie creaking. My heart starts to race. I can`t remember if Tierra del Fuego has pumas, and am desperately trying to recall a recent story I heard about someone being attacked. But wasn`t that Torres del Paine? I quicken my pace which I know is not the right thing to do. More squealing. What is it? Is it the trees? It sounds vaguely human. I look back as but can only see a dense mass of trees. I`m now flying through the trees and don`t stop until I exit, into some kind of derelict campsite with old rusted routemasters. At this point I promise myself I will never deviate from a signposted trail again.

As I`m walking across the campsite a young child yells at me. Am I on private land? He`s only asking where I`m going. I tell him I need to get back to town and he points me in the right direction.

Back to Ushuaia


Gentoo Penguin, Barrientos Island


Seaweed, Barrientos Island


Weddell Seal


Weddell Seal, Barrientos Island


Barrientos Island, Aitcho Islands


The sun has come out and blue skies abound by the time we land on Barrientos Island, part of the Aitcho Islands. Barrientos is a beautiful rocky island covered in green moss. It's the first time I've seen green for several days and after the monochrome of the Antarctic landscape it feels like I`m seeing through new glasses.

It's the perfect place for our final landing as there's everything - three types of penguins (Gentoos, Chinstraps and Adelies), Elephant and Weddell Seals and a number of birds. Even the seaweed is colourful.

By 8pm we're back in the Drake Passage and heading back to Ushuaia. The doctor is running out of pills and people are desperate.

Painted Petrel


One of the few birds I can identify...

Gentoo Penguins, Fort Point


Gentoos about to be engulfed by the surf.

Weddell Seal, Gentoos & Chinstraps, Fort Point


Antarctica Day 8 - December 5 - Fort Point, Greenwich Island


It`s 2 degrees and overcast (for a change). There are moderate winds of 30-40 knots and we`re due to make a landing at Robert Point. I'm feeling 100% better. By the time we arrive the wind has picked up and it`s deemed too unsafe to land. This is the nature of travelling in Antarctica. One minute we're dressed up in ten layers of clothes plus life vest, boots, hats, gloves, sunglasses etc. and lining up to board zodiacs and then it`s all called off. Everything depends on the weather and that here is unpredictable. In all we`re really lucky to make 12 landings which I'm assuming is due to our (fantastic) expedition leader and crew. I'm told most expeditions manage 7-8 if the weather is decent.

Disappointed we all trudge back to our cabins and while taking off several layers our expedition leader announces on the P.A that we`re going to attempt to make a shore landing at Fort Point, where from my cabin window I can see dramatic jagged basalt pinnacles rising out of the sea. Afterwards I learn that there's no record of anyone landing here for many years.

The sea is choppy and I get soaked on the way to shore where the zodiac drivers have problems controlling the boats in the huge surf. The beach is another volcanic one with a nunatak (look it up!) at one end, Weddell Seals and colonies of Gentoos and Chinstraps. There are also a couple of Macaroni Penguins, unusual for this area, but I miss these.

After a couple of hours the ship's horn sounds which means we need to make our way back quickly to the zodiacs. The weather has become too unstable. I get soaked again on the ride back to the ship.

(Photo - Fort Point)

Tabular iceberg, Antarctica


Jougla Point, Antarctica


Port Lockroy, Antarctica


Port Lockroy, Antarctica


This afternoon we land at Port Lockroy, a former British base. The Union Jack is flying next to the 'Base A' building, which bizarrely makes me feel closer to home. Base A is now a museum with a gift shop and post office. A handful of people live here in the summer monitoring the Gentoo penguin population living among them. The landscape here is stunning. Surrounding the bay are pristine ice cliffs with a beautiful mountain backdrop.

Antarctica Day 7 - December 4 - Palmer Station & Torgerson Island


This morning we land on Anvers Island and visit Palmer Station, a US research station of 44 people (in summer) that welcomes Antarctica visitors through an established outreach programme. The largest base in Antarctica is the US base McMurdo on Ross Island that has 1000 residents in summer.

They have baked brownies for us but I´ve been feeling unwell and almost didn´t make the landing today so I reluctantly decline. I speak to a couple of bacteriologists monitoring the marine ecosystem who are in their fourth season in Antarctica. We also make a quick stop at Torgerson Island to see a colony of Adelie Penguins. Here I'm distressed to see a couple of Skuas hovering above nesting penguins, hoping to snatch a quick meal.

(Photo - Nesting Adelie Penguins on Torgerson Island)

Lemaire Channel, Antarctica


Iceberg, Antarctica


Cuverville Island


Gentoo Penguins - Cuverville Island


Cuverville Island


Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Gentoo Penguins - Cuverville Island


Cuverville Island


Gentoo Penguins - Cuverville Island


Emperor Penguin - Cuverville Island


Gentoo Penguins - Cuverville Island


Cuverville Island


We land at Cuverville island on the Antarctic Continent this afternoon. It has the largest Gentoo colony in the area and a number of impressive birds which I can´t name apart from the brown Skua. Unusually there is also a young male Emperor Penguin nestled in the rocks, which would never normally be seen this far north. It doesn´t move for two hours so it could be injured.

The landscape here is sublime and indescribable. Even photos don´t come close to capturing its beauty. I could sit on a rock all day watching the waves and ice cliffs. While I´m far away in my thoughts, a Gentoo penguin jumps on the rock next to me barely half a metre away, sits for a minute and then carries on. It´s completely unperturbed by my presence.