Esquel and Trevelin

Posted 24 March 2007
I know that Mary is waiting for this posting. But for her we would not be here, neither would we have discovered Futaleufu en route. Her cousin Hugh Evans was so enthusiastic about his visits to Esquel that he advised Mary to tell us about Esquel.

The area is one of those colonised by the Welsh starting in 1865. We spent a memorable morning with one of the contacts, Mrs Aira Hughes, her husband Edgar and one of her sons Eduardo, having located her house the following evening when we were too tired and too travel worn to call. Her grandfather on her mother´s side had gone to Esquel in 1881. She told us that tomorrow there was a big celebration at the Capilla Seion in town to celebrate 100 years and St David´s Day with procession, service and then a communal tea. Unfortunately we will be on route to Perito Moreno by bus at 10.45 tomorrow, having bought a ticket after much deliberation when we arrived yesterday.

EDGAR and AIRA HUGHES, with SON EDUARDO

Aira was unfortunately in a wheelchair as the result of a recent operation on her knee because of arthritis, not a prosthesis but a transfer of flesh from her lower leg. She was however in remarkably good spirits and made us very welcome. Her English was very good so some of the conversation was accessible by Joan and by speaking in Spanish I was able to include Edgar and Eduardo. They told us much of the early history of the Welsh who, like the rest of the world, were invited by the Argentine government to settle but not occupy the country as a foreign power.

Eduardo enthusiastically showed us his fine collection of early pre-columbian tools flint arrow heads, stone handles for slings and stone balls which the indians swung on the end of a rope to kill prey, especially quanacos (llama) and sometimes human intruders. He had found these artefacts in the mountains. When we left after more than two hours non stop talk, tea and local speciality chocolates (Esquel is famous for chocolate - so is Bariloche - if you want to start an argument!). 

He took us to the station where a very narrow gauge, 75cm (30 inches). El Viejo Expreso or La Trochita, runs twice daily for the benefit of tourists. Noways it is a pseudo steam engine with a collection of passenger carriages, wooden seats for the second class, soft seats for the first class carriage and even a dining car, but in the past it was used for transporting wool the 400 km to the coast for export. We saw it fill up with water in the old style, but that is only for the sake of making look alike smoke as it is propelled by diesel these days. Perhaps fortunately there were no tickets left for the 2 pm run. So we went directly by bus to Trevelin, and on seeing two other passengers get off and dive into a restaurant Los Troncos we followed. There we had trout and a lovely glass of house Sauvignon Blanc.

We went to the nearby tourist office to pick up a map and to establish the location of Museo La Molina and El Malacara (Museo Cartref Taid) as it is known to the Welsh speakers.

Since the former was not yet open we started at La Molina, a superb municipal museum with a very wide ranging collection of exhibits, from old photographs, to artifacts of all kinds which had been used by the settlers, from the oldest typewriter in which a slider was used to rotate the golf ball head to present the correct letter with a separate button to cause it to print, to ´sunday best ´clothes as worn by the women, kitchen stove and equipment, an early hand operated washing machine, a large Fordson tractor, Stationary Steam engine, combine harvester and a truck as used in the old horse days to convoy to transport wool to the Atlantic coast for export.

We spoke at length with the enthusiastic young curator who wanted to practice his English so as to add to his fluency in Welsh. At the same time a party of four were going around. It turned out they came from near Ammanford. Later Hazel told us she had been the first Welsh teacher in the community in 1997, sponsored by the British Council and later by the Welsh assembly as well - a tradition which is continuing under Clare Whitehouse, who we did not meet. One of the men in the party told us how he had got detached from the rest in Esquel the previous evening, and seeking directions eventually asked a youngster if he could speak English, the youngster replied in Welsh, an event which brought tears to his eyes, as it did to Joan when I repeated the story to her.


We all went over to El Malacara to see a copy of the original house of John D Evans, the founder of the community who went on to build the large grain flour mill that we had just seen. The house was built in the traditional style and sited in a beautiful garden and faithfully portrayed his original home, though as he grew more prosperous and brought up 12 children he moved elsewhere. 

The young curator of this museum told us in great detail the story of John Evans whilst struggling manfully and successfully with his English. Evans and three other men set out from the Welsh Atlantic coast settlement on horseback to follow the Chubut River inland in search of gold. They found and were delighted with the area bordering Chile which is not unlike Wales . On discovery it was populated only by a few Mapuche Indians (as found in Chile) and so they set off back to inform the others. Unfortunately they were attacked by the Indigenous Indians and only he escaped by virtue of an enormous leap by his horse Malacara. He eventually arranged its purchase from the Argentine government and led the Welsh back to found Esquel and Trevelin, these being part of an area of Argentine (Chubut province) which was populated by a variety of Celtic people from Wales, Ireland, Brittany and Galicia, although many English came later.

As we raced back to catch the 6pm bus to Esquel we learned that the group were staying at La Chacra with Mrs Rini Griffiths. That explained why her B&B was full when I phoned from the Information Office the previous day. We went instead to the Residential Ski (20K) which we found very helpful. That suited us both since La Chacra had Welsh speaking guests and we had the benefit of a convenient location in the centre of town. The hotel immediately directed me to a shoe repairer Dieguito on 25 de Mayo, just around the corner, where they repaired crucial support stitching on my rucksack while we waited, for just 1K. It was the sort of workshop almost impossible to find in present day Britain, where in consequence we throw away far too much.

One further coincidence. As we made our way back to the hotel we met a Peruvian who was selling Mandalas on the street. This is a construction made entirely of wire formed into circles. It is an amazingly versatile thing which can be transformed into a huge number of different shapes as a help to meditation. We bought one for old times sake, having first come across them in Kathmandu 20 years ago and buying several as stocking fillers for our children. He had first come across them whilst traveling in Brazil and now made them himself and provided customers with an instruction leaflet giving the sequence of the forms. The very next day we saw him at the bus station, he greeted me with `Hello Brian´, having remembered my name from our brief conversation.

So ends this posting as we head for the restaurant Parrilla next to the hotel where we shall probably go for the enormous Mixed BBQ for two, beef, sausages, sweetbreads, tripe etc as befits this land of meat.

Perito Moreño, Los Antiguos and Chile Chico

Posted 26 February 2007
The modern bus which runs Ruta 40, a mainly unpaved Ripio Road, is quite an institution. It was full of working backpackers, on a necessarily short tour to fit their holidays, many around 25/30 the rest over 50. 

RUTA 40 BUS from BARILOCHE to EL CALAFATE

They stopped overnight at El Belgrano hotel in the town of Perito Moreno but the bus tour leader at our request booked a room ahead, in a nearby two room apartment 120A or 24K as the hotel was full. People get on and off the bus as they will, to spend more time in particular destinations on its long route from Bariloche to El Calafate. Thus taking in the major Andes attractions in Argentina such as Mt Fitzroy and the Perito Moreño glacier near El Calafate, the one I think Susan and Peter have visited. They offer a number of side trips for those who leave at various points which include several multi-day treks on the glaciers. The trip from Esquel tp Perito Moreño cost (2 x180) 2 x 33K, 180A.

RUTA 40

Theo was right about Argentina, after Chile it was like passing through the Gobi desert, only on a bumpy road rather than a motorway. It is incredibly flat, boring, yellow grass and treeless. Nevertheless it was an experience worth having. Joan saw flamingos just as we left Esquel, a bird of prey as white as a gull, guancos, rheas (ostrich) and sheep. But mostly like the desert there was absolutely nothing to see except dry pampas, and the tantalising view of snow capped mountains on the border with Chile.

We went back to join the rest in El Belgrano (Margaret Thatcher lives and embarrasses her erstwhile supporter Joan) for dinner, and Joan hit the jackpot with Bife de Chorizo which turned out to be a fine steak. I only really spoke to a young Italian girl from near Venice who has lived in London for several years and loves it for its vibrancy and for the employment opportunities and standard of living it offers. She will not return to Italy.

Today we have done little except cross once again into Chile. Our landlady took us to the small bus station out of town at 10 and we waited until 10.30 before anyone arrived to sell tickets. The two buses arrived in half an hour headed for Los Antiguos, on the Argentine side of the border. There we transferred to a minibus which took us, helpfully, right through the two border posts and a long no man`s land and into the centre of Chili Chico, a very small but rapidly developing town in a strategic point for tourists.

We checked into the El Centro de Llamadas 10K (telephones), as advised by the minibus driver) where they have just added three large comfortable upstairs rooms, it is a shared bathroom but as there are no other guests we have it to ourselves, doubtless everyone else in the packed minibuses was following the recommendations of their guidebook. The same driver saw us later and pointed out a restaurant where we had the set El Menu 2 x 5.75K with Kunstmann beer from Valdivia. It was a good choice, first course was Cazuela de Vaca, a stew and soup in one, followed by lentils boiled in a beef sauce ( we had a memorable meal of this kind in La Causse Mejean when trekking in France years ago with Geoff and Judy - although that was a lamb based sauce and we slept on the straw in the barn with another family for the amazing sum of 1 Franc each and washed under the hand pump in the yard) bananas with honey and coffee completed the meal.
Since today´s boat left at 10am, long before we arrived, and tomorrow´s does not leave until 4.30pm we have booked a mini trek for the morning which includes visiting caves with primitive peoples´ stencil painting of hands (Cuevas de los Manos of which there are many examples near here including one near Perito Moreño which is a world heritage site).


We are gathering timetable information to help with a smooth return trip as we expect to do the reverse crossing to Perito Moreño in about a week, and there to rejoin the Ruta 40 bus for the next two stages south in Argentina. Then maybe fly to Ushuaia at the tip of Tierra del Fuego before making our way back north - who knows its as fluid as ever.

The trek 2x 25K was fantastic. An hour by minibus to the starting point at Jeinimeni National Park near the Chile/Argentine border. Then three hours climbing the mountain past the most amazing rock formations including one enormous red-brown iron bearing pillar carved out by nature like a huge totem pole, with plenty of green copper bearing rocks. Then a short ridge walk around to the cave, where we had a picnic of bread and a salami sausage we bought for the trip, whilst we watched the condors soaring around. In fact they got so close we thought they were about to home in on our salami.
 


The guide leader was excellent and he explained the cave in detail in Spanish only some of which we understood, but one of the three young Israelis with us explained it again in English. There was also a very pleasant young Chilean girl. The simple painting of hands was to record the visits to the cave by a nomadic people about 11,000 years ago and was done in red mineral paint which they masticated with grease and clay and then blew around their hands, although some were done by pressing already painted hands against the wall.
 
 There were also simple paintings of animals, and simple maps in dots recorded their travels. A second technique was used to produce black painting with charcoal, but this had wait until 6,000 years ago by which time they had discovered fire. The caves were in use until recently because of the find of sheep bones which must have been introduced after sheep were introduced to the Falklands.


There are many examples in this area of cave paintings of hands. Although a nomadic people they returned to the caves when a baby was about to be born or when someone was about to die, or maybe with people too old or too young to travel. They survived by hunting guanaco and we walked to the cave through a narrowing gap in the hills which was called The Valley of Guanacos.

After lunch we walked down with considerable difficulty across scree into another outstanding area of rock this time white pumice, the ash from the volcanoe. On top of the world at this point everyone took their photo opportunities to prove they had been there, including one of Joan.

I must say that I was completely out-walked by Joan who was pleased to demonstrate that her exertions of the previous trek had been worth while. I´m afraid one young Israeli and I struggled with painful knees on the descent. Indeed I owe a lot to the physical support of the leader when about to fall on the most treacherous scree. His girl assistant didn´t endear herself to us stragglers by repeatedly telling us to caminar or vamos, obviously concerned they would have to pay more to the driver waiting on the road below, or perhaps it was a more legitimate worry that we would all miss our 4.30pm ferry.

But catch the ferry we did, which was memorable for demonstrating its reputation as the coldest crossing in the area. The strong winds must blow regularly from the nearby glaciers. 


Minibuses met us on the other side and took us 120km to Coyhaique where we arrived freezing cold at 10pm to find a place to sleep. The first place we tried was full, but the second another hospedaje had a very small room with private bath. Although small the space was extremely well used. The owner made us very welcome with huge mugs of tea with real milk, which were refilled, and with some brilliant torta. And so to a hot shower, bed, a new day, and a new rainy dawn.

Coyhaique, Chacabuco and San Rafael

 Posted 5 March 2007
We have spent five nights in Coyhaique in two spells separated by two nights at a 5 star hotel in Chacabuco and a trip by motorised catamaran to the San Rafael Glacier, one of Chile´s most renowned sites.

Our time in Coyhaique has been largely spent avoiding the cold, which is inevitable in the absence of sunshine. It is otherwise a very pleasant town and at 50,000 is the largest town by far and the capital of the Carretera Austral Region, which we largely avoided by traveling south in Argentina instead. In traveler´s terms it has a big drawback in that it doesn´t have a central bus station but many small ones scattered across town which serve only individual towns. The other planning problem is that as a result nothing seems to be co-ordinated which becomes a planning nightmare when discovering that most routes are available on only a few days of the week. We thus had to abandon plans to go north on the Carretera Austral to Puyuhuapi by bus and could not get a booking on the three night catamaran Skorpios which would have included it with a trip to San Rafael. We had to work around Catamaranes del Sur which run only on Saturdays in March, and the ferry back to Chile Chico which gave its earliest date as Tuesday and the Ruta40 bus which runs south on even dates.

Friday was a glorious day, a reversion to completely blue skies, which we spent going through the beautiful local National Park areas to Puerto Aisen, which was once the port but now has become so silted up that there is no trace of its former maritime glory. So we had to go on a few more km to the present day port of Chacabuco, which as a town is little more than a shanty for dockers and seamen without decent tourist accommodation or restaurants, except incongruously just this one 5 star hotel Loberias, which exists mainly for tourists who arrive by air 50km north of Coyhaique and get on a transfer minibus, and depart a couple of days later by the same route. In season I imagine the hotel is full of tour parties, but the crowd with us in March had arrived independently like us. The hotel and the catamaran are owned and operated by the same firm, as is the local Park Aiken.

The catamarin trip was superb, one of the really unforgettable days. We started with a call at 6am and coffee in the hotel and then were ferried to the boat which eventually left half an hour late at 8am. 

On this occasion there were only 40 passengers, just half the number of seats, and meals were served on trays as on a plane. 

SMILING IN SPITE OF DISLOCATED SHOULDER

However there was complete freedom to walk around on deck and watch in awe as the boat made its way along the fiords and around the numerous islands in the half mist and low cloud, all densely covered in evergreen trees right up to the snow line. We pulled closely on shore to one island to see the sea lion colony lying on the rocks the shore. The first signs of the glacier around 5 hours later were the lumps of ice which started to appear in the water. They had not only been sculptured into wonderful curved shapes but were also glowing in wonderful shades of blue. We were told that the colours are better in an overcast day, as in bright sunlight the ice reflects white light.

Finally we were heading straight for the Glacier San Rafael, which loomed larger and larger as we homed in. Painted dates on the rocks illustrate how the glacier had shrunk year on year since 1978, which it does by breaking off in chunks which float way thus creating the ice flows.

SAN RAPHAEL GLACIER, CHILE

When we were as close in as was safe we were split into four groups and each got into heavy inflatable dinghies to go close up. We were in group two which was fortunate to be in the right position when an unusually large chunk broke off, almost disappeared under the water, then rose back to its original height setting of a swell with waves several feet high, and then breaking up to fill the bay with floating blue ice.

DIEDRE, THE SCOTS FRIEND WHO CONVINCED JOAN SHE COULD CLIMB DOWN into THE DINGHY

ICE CONTINUALLY FALLING

OUR CATAMARAN FROM DINGHY off SAN RAPHAEL GLACIER

Our boat had previously been out collecting small pieces of floating ice, and on return passengers were given whisky with 18,000 year old ice chunks, then started the party which lasted until we pulled back into harbour at 9.30pm. There had been a free bar all day but wisely they had not advertised the fact until everyone was safely out of the dinghies. A saxophonist/guitarist/singer with pre-recorded backing kept us in the party mood and encouraged the various Latin American visitors in particular to display their prowess on the dance floor. There were people on board from Argentine, Mexico, Uraguay, Brasil, but mostly from Chile. Many of these had reduced the cost by staying in Puerto Aisen and not at Loberias.

Whilst on deck at night I was joined by one of our fellow guests, one of a party of 4 Germans who were touring in a 4WD. He was much the same age as me and he had traveled a great including driving north beyond Hammerfest (Norway), the most northerly port in the world town. I was there but only as far north as Tromso (from where Artic explorers normally start) some twenty years earlier, as a hitch hiking prelude to summer vacation work near Stockholm. He told me to be sure to sign on for a similar catamaran tour at the Perito Moreno Glacier in Argentine, which includes walking in crampons across that much bigger glacier. They were now headed for Esquel.

RETURNING IN THE EVENING from SAN RAPHAEL GLACIER to CHACABUCO

It was Diedre a Scots lass who hailed from Inverness with whom we made the closest contact. Her mother came from Orkney where she had spent much time as a youngster, her father traveled the world building Hydro-electric plants and was now retired in Cape Town. She had a wonderful outgoing character who found the Chileans didn´t pay much attention to suggestions from women, but as she said ´I don´t give a shit any longer, it´s a wonderful experience just to be here´. She conveyed how thrilled she had been with the day, something we all felt but were not as good in radiating our enthusiasm, and as a reward was given a picture book by the organiser. She was in Chile, at Puerto Montt for a year on an exchange with a Chilean colleague in the same Dutch firm, which obviously is big and worldwide in feed for fish farms. She explained that Chile had now overtaken Norway as the biggest producer of farmed salmon in the world. The company also dealt in food for trout farms, bass, halibut, turbot and also cod There were many salmon farms along the coast line here, but we were pleased to note how unobtrusively they fitted in with the landscape.

The next morning she came with us to Coyhaique, but being Sunday we had to solve the problem of how to link her with a transfer minibus with everywhere closed, solved at last by going to one of the better hotels and asking them to arrange it. It arrived almost full 15 minutes later, just in the nick of time.

Today, another fine day we went for a several km walk out to the National Park of Coyhaique, which was inaugurated in 1948 but shows sign of lack of development like so many things in Chile. Lack of signposting had not stopped the circular footpath being walked and it had certainly not stopped the wild life being of great interest to Joan.

Tomorrow we are out by 7am to get a transfer to the ferry and with luck should make it all the way back to the town of Perito Moreno in Argentine, where we hope to catch the Ruta 40 bus south to El Chalten and El Calafate, though we have been unable to book it over the internet or even via travel agents.

Los Antiguos and El Chalten 1

Posted 10 March 2007
We left Coyhaique early by the arranged transfer minibus. It took about an hour to complete all its pickups, by which time some of the passengers must have been thinking they had been forgotten. The ferry time turned out to be 10am as we had observed from the timetable, though our ticket said 9am. We rushed on to get a seat in the upstairs cabin - fearing a repeat of the cold trip over - but need not have been too concerned for it was warm compared with last time. Deidre who had watched the weather had said that the temperatures had suddenly dropped 10 C, so that obviously explained the cold spell. Transfer Minibuses were waiting at the other side in Chile Chico and took us back through the border posts and on to Los Antiguous in Argentine.

Los Antiguous like nearby Chile Chico had been severely damaged by earthquake in 1991 and looked almost entirely new. We checked in El Argentino for 100A or 17K and to get a basic double room with very comfortable beds, the next night we moved to join friends in Pallida which was 25A or 4K for a bed in a dorm. El Viento a brand new restaurant specialised in two forms of Tapas, Combo1 and Combo 2, the first Spanish with lots of dried ham (what a wonderful change from the usual rubbish) the second Italian featuring good Salami. No-one with any sense comes to this part of the world for the quality of the food (especially Chile because you have to exclude Argentinian beef), though the house wines on both sides of the border are excellent.

Our new friends were Jeffrey and Pilla Liebhilde, the name her father created for her. She was born in Germany of American parents who moved to America at the end of the war. She got the worst of both worlds as a young girl, being the American enemy in Germany during the war and the Hitler girl in America afterwards. Jeffrey, the self declared baby of the group was 56, he had married Pilla 21 years earlier by which time she had 5 children from a previous marriage - quite a brave move. They had both worked for the Post Office and he took early retirement when Pilla retired. Since then they had traveled the world making one trip of 6 to 8 months each year. Their travel quite eclipses our own. Though that is precisely what we envisaged doing when we finished work in extremely fit condition - not dreaming of the rheumatoid arthritis and back injuries which lay around the corner for Joan. Last year they spent 8 months in Austria, Greece, Turkey Egypt, Jordan and Israel. They were obviously particularly thrilled by Turkey, Egypt and Cairo, and the old city of Bethlehem. Their other recommendation was the far southern tip of India , which we have thought about for some time.

They seem to travel extremely light with rear opening rucksacks ( shaped like conventional cases), but carry about a dozen books which would seem to up the density and mislead the onlooker. Over the years since Joan stopped back packing we have cut down a lot, it seems we have more to go - though I have not established where we are in excess, for instance we both carry a pair of shoes in addition to walking boots and four pairs of trousers (normally I have three but but this year have an extra lined pair to deal with the cold). They do not carry towels. Jeff in particular studies his destinations in advance, like us with special interest in old civilisations, Joan does but I must admit to learning on the hoof, but paying more attention to how to get around.

In this respect this part of the world is a nightmare, we haven´t finished weaving from Chile to Argentine because it is inevitable if traveling overland due to the idiotic borders. These two countries do not like each other. Whilst Chile was concentrating on winning territory from Peru in the north Argentina was a doing the same in the south. El Chalten, which by common consent amongst the backpackers seems to be the finest trekking location in the south, was only claimed by Argentina as recently as 1985 when they set up a same military garrison here just to claim the disputed territory. Now it a rapidly growing tourist centre with wonderful trekking into the mountains including Mount Fitzroy (nearly 4000m), named after the Beagle´s captain. Darwin was most definitely here. There are now plans to develop it as a winter resort as well. Just 500 people live here out of the season, when several thousand others appear.


If anyone doubts the basic geographical fact that there is a wet side and a dry side to mountain ranges then they should come here. Chile is beautifully green, covered in trees, very windy at times and with lots of rain but beautiful ever changing skies , though we seem to have missed most of the rain. In contrast Argentina is dry, barren (the pampas is only one slight step removed from desert and that by vegetation with the appearance of long dead sticks) but it is markedly and instead the skies tend to be a boring! plain blue.

The desert here does support families of graceful guanacos (think Bambi), also Rheas a sort of Ostrich. The only other life we saw in 14 hours of bumpy bus riding from Perito Moreno was an Armadillo, the bus driver spotted him, stopped the bus and caught him by the tail - the way to make sure he continues to show himself as he attempts to run away rather than disappear into his armoured shell- two small flocks of sheep, and a group of three horses.

Jeffrey told us that the armadilla is the ikon of Austin Texas where they now live. A third friend shares their house and looks after it whilst they are away and instead of rent he pays the household bills. A fine sounding arrangement.

Today it is cloudy and on the point of rain but we have just had four quite superb days. Two were in Los Antiguous where we did little except talk non stop to Jeffrey having found out that the Chalten Ruta 40 bus for El Chalten in fact starts here. Though we now regret missing out on our intended visit to the UNESCO Cuevas de Los Manos which we could have include by moving on to Perito Moreno. Argentina is by far the more aggressive of the two countries and they can obviously see the importance of wooing tourists south overland (backpackers and motorists) from Coyhaique. 

The route south may be bumpy ripio road at the moment but they are developing a new tarmac parallel road which will be complete in a few years and will turn this route into a major tourist path. If it was China then it would be ready for the next tourist season if it was Chile then perhaps for the next generation of tourists. By common consent of the ex-pats working here Chile is going nowhere fast ( but then that is part of its charm). The bus had the same strange mixture of backpackers as before, under thirties and over fifty fives, mostly staying in dormitories. There´s no doubt the oldies are beginning to travel independently - we no longer feel alone.

We shared a room in Los Antigous with a young Frenchman who was surprised when we knew his home area of Poitou Charente, even more surprised when we knew Argenton Chateau very near Bressuire, where he is now studying Agriculture. For his 6 month Stage he had the option of doing it in France or traveling abroad, he chose Argentina - the green fertile area (Mendoza) west of Buenos Aires. It´s a small world for Anne-Marie comes from the same region and her first home with Jim was in Bressuire.

EL CHALTEN, an excellent hiking opportunity lost to sickness

When we arrived in El Chalten at 11pm we had to search for a hotel, most of which were already full. In desperation I went into a restaurant which was just closing, who phoned around and found us a room at a new hotel nearby, though for 200A or 33K double what we have been spending in Argentina. Like most buildings in Argentina it is built of masonry, (unlike Chile where everything is wooden even to the roof tiles) but clad internally by rustic trunk work fitted and shaped by an artistic craftsman, which makes it attractively different to most modern hotels. We have an excellent large room which will no doubt be even more pricey when it gets better known - but a very average breakfast and are once again seeing how little contact there is in a hotel full of motorists all traveling around encapsulated in their steel boxes.

Yesterday was a fabulous day for hiking but unfortunately we missed out. Joan developed a severe chest infection suddenly followed by, rather than preceded by as usual, a head cold. The result was that she could not lie down without coughing and coupled with the severe diarrhea which we both contracted courtesy of the restaurant in our 5 star hotel she did not sleep or eat properly for two nights. (We observed an American diner of the first night who took nothing but water on his trip to San Rafael). Last night however she slept well and we are hoping the worst is over, although the diarrhea does keep reappearing.

We are hoping for a nice day tomorrow, so she can venture out of the hotel, and for a chance to do some hiking before we leave this wonderful mountain location. We expected the south to be cold, it is after all sitting on by far the biggest non polar ice field in the world, but the temperature here at the moment is perfect. As I finish at 3pm the sun is shining again, but the wind is still howling. Wind strength here is a hazard for hikers and especially climbers.

The less said about our 5 nights at El Chalten the better. Joan was ill with a very severe chest infection the whole time, not helped by severe diarrhoea. In addition with the exception of the beautiful first day, it was very cold, very windy, and with the continual threat of rain. Leaving by bus at 6am in the morning 55A was a treat to watch the sunrise. I was inspired to muse on a theme which may be familiar to some. ´´As the good bus Chalten humped slowly towards Calafate in the cold grey light of the South American dawn a character was seen sitting on a pile of coats wrapped in awe as the snow covered phosphorescent rugged peaks behind changed from cold silver to warm pink. Beagle that man to me said Fitzroy - now said the captain how do you come to be sitting on a pile of coats´.

Complete the story yourself - No prizes!

El Calafate and Chalten 2

Posted 16 March 2007
We have just spent two wonderful days visiting the great glaciers of Argentina in El Parque Nacional de Los Glacieres in perfect weather, blue skies and ideal warm sunshine.

The first trip was a full day catamaran trip to the biggest glacier Upsala Spezzani and Onelli and picnic lunch on the rocks beside Laguna Onelli after having walked there through a lovely Fagus Norte or Beech wood (Linga Guido being the local name), the fundamental tree in Argentinian Patagonia well adapted to the dry conditions here.

BROUGHT CLOSE TO SHORE for CONDOR BIRD WATCHING

UPSALA GLACIER, ARGENTINA

UPSALA GLACIER

PICNIC LUNCH STOP

RE-BOARDED AFTER LUNCH BREAK

The second trip to Perito Moreno, which which is far better known and features on most tours, was again a day trip but this time by minibus of Austral Mundo with a guide from the National Park to explain so much that we had not known previously about Patagonia and glaciers.

NATIONAL FLOWER OF ARGENTINA, EL CALAFATE

Our first stop was to take a one hour trip by catamaran to get closer to the ice, but the real attraction of this glacier was the ability to view it from above by means of wooden walkways, where we again had a picnic lunch. The biggest negative was the almost total absence of sculpted ice flows. The cost was 80A for the all day minibus and guide +30A for the park + 38A for the one hour catamaran.

PERITO MORENO GLACIER ARGENTINA

PERITO MORENO GLACIER

PERITO MORENO GLACIER

It´s hard to compare the three trips. San Rafael was first and there was such a steady build up of expectation as we cruised on the sea first through the islands which are dotted along this Chilean coast, then saw the first sign of deep blue small beautifully sculpted icebergs floating by and an hour later turned a corner to reveal for the first time a glacier. It was by far the most expensive trip as catamaran and the 5 star hotel at the port were controlled by the same company.

We are agreed that the best trip and the best value was the Upsala, three glaciers trip. Here again there was a steady build up as we motored for about an hour from Puero Bandera, then gradually building up to Upsala the biggest Argentinian glacier, in some ways the least impressive. The best part was the Condors for we motored very close to a nest where a female Condor was nursing two large (grown hen sized) fluffy charcoal grey chicks. We got so close at one stage that the chicks were sent back to the safety of a hole in the rock, and the Condor flew off the nest to perch on the cliff face. The ultimate photo opportunity.

Not so far behind were the small blue icebergs (huge chunks), formed as the blocks of ice fall off the advancing glacier to float down stream to Lago Argentina, the second biggest lake (to Titicaca), which eventually flows out to the Atlantic coast. In essence the direction of flow is used to define which land belongs to Argentina and which to Chile. Upsala itself looked very dirty as it was carrying by far the most rock debris in various layers created by the tributary glaciers. The all day catamaran trip cost 175A + 30A entrance fee to the park + 18A for the transfer by minibus from hotel to port and return just less than 40K Chilean each.

The Perito Moreno minibus driver talked to us through his excellent microphone system for almost the whole of the two hour drive to the glacier. He was arguably the best guide we have had and spoke so well and deliberately in Spanish that I could understand a great deal of the information and then repeated the whole message in superb English diction. So I have little excuse for forgetting. He started by describing the Patagonian Steppes, explaining that they were not deserts because the grass although yellow and coarse was food for the guanacos and the sheep.

Then there were the El Calafate plants, Berberis Buxifolia, food for the birds which humans turn into liquor, eat as fruit, make jams and flavour ice-cream. We first ate Calafate on our trek at Chile Chico where we were told the legend that ´´He who eats Calafate berries will return to Patagonia´´. He stopped to show us the Caracara birds of prey sitting on the fence posts and the flamingos feeding in the lake. Then went on to describe the second Patagonian landscape with a mixture of beech trees and the barren looking land, and finally as we got higher the dense beech forest. Looking across the lake he pointed out the entirely barren rock coloured land just above the water on the other side of the lake and said this represented the height to which the lake rose when frozen and covered in snow in winter.

I must say we are extremely impressed by the standards of care for the environment in Argentina. There is virtually no litter in the countryside. He said that the biggest environmental problem was caused by thousands of wild cattle which went back to the formation of the park in 1937. The low lying plains alongside the lake had been farmed by settlers, though they had no legal right to the land and when they were evicted they left their cattle behind. The wild cattle now prevent the forest from renewing itself in the natural way. It is very difficult to remove the cattle from such a wild inaccessible area. They cannot just kill them without removing the carcasses or they will alter the food chain in a unique environment and it is almost impossible to remove them. Nevertheless that is their next task.

Upsala glacier is so named because it was first studied by the Swedish university in 1902 and by Perito (expert) Moreno (his name). Because he proved that it discharged into the Atlantic (and was thus claimed for Argentina) he was given good land by the Government near Barriloche. He left the land for the nation provided it was made into the first conservation zone. Their first National Park was thus formed in 1903. (Need to check accuracy of dates something occurred in the 1940/50s)

The fascinating explanation was the formation of blue ice, which arises when frozen snow falls from high altitude and is turned into ice by compression, thus presumably locking in oxygen as opposed to formation of ice by the freezing of water. The blue gets more intense the greater the compression and in general relates to the age of the ice, with the bluest at the bottom of the glacier as illustrated by a large piece we saw fall from Perito Moreno which in general was simply ice coloured.

Al Calafate is described in the guide book as unattractive which is we feel very unfair. There is nothing very old but the town is pleasant and it the only place we have yet visited which would satisfy the well heeled shopaholic. We have a very nice hotel here with a generous sized room, good bathroom, and excellent continental breakfast for 140A or 24K. The first hotel opened here when there were only four families living here, its logic being as a stop on the long trek westwards with the wool wagons destined for Europe via the Atlantic ports. He said these wagon trains covered just 20km per day and took 20 to 30 days to reach the coast. Today a farm has as many as 30,000 sheep.

We would definitely recommend the very small restaurant El Puesto, with a genuine pizza oven but a full menu, which had recently been doubled in size by the addition of an extension with seating for another 12 people. Eating steaks here with wine and a chocolate desert cost 115A, a shared pizza with a starter and bottle of wine was 70A. The first night there was a queue for two hours outside on the pavement and we were asked promptly if we wanted the bill.

The second night was much more relaxed and we spent a long time after our meal talking to the young German backpackers on the next table. Rheinheldt, the woman, worked for the government as a judge, Gerrit worked as a software engineer for a company involved in the application of virtual reality (where everything is observed via the picture in a headset) in this case it was used for the design of aircraft control desks, and presumably later for the training of pilots. They were currently working on getting realistic physical feedback on using the virtual controls.

They were a delightful couple trying to holiday by backpacking for the very first time and had chosen Chile/Argentine as the easiest location in South America - the most secure for sure, though they had had their small rucksack and cards stolen on the bus down to Puerto Montt. The logistics of travel here are quite difficult because of the terrain. I think they will try Peru and the Inca Trail next. In a four week holiday from work, they had trekked by tent for several days in both Torres del Paine and Fitzroy. They had had spells of bad weather at both locations including snow whilst they sheltered in the cold tent for 24 hours. They felt that Torres del Paine had more to offer having lakes and a glacier to add variety, whereas the main attraction of Fitzroy was the impressive double peak. They like the English girl I was talking to on the Perito Moreno catamaran had liked Buenos Aires, certainly we would agree there is nothing particularly appealing about Santiago. Again the Chilean option was by far the more expensive, though not bad if you camp out. I can´t help feeling that Chile is losing out to Argentina in the attraction of middle class tourists by pricing their major attractions for the very well heeled only.

We spent our first afternoon in Calafate by visiting the nature reserve for birds which they have created in some wetland by the lake. Flamingoes, ducks, geese, black necked swans, a Harrier which Joan identified correctly and we later learned is one of the two birds of prey in the area. An absolutely natural un-enhanced reserve it was a pleasant circular walk of about 6km, with a helpful set of notes on what look for at 25 identified points.

There will be some who think we take risks, though in practice they are more imagined than real. But on our minibus trip to Upsala we were reminded of the major real risk we take in any country traffic accidents. We were waved down just after I had noticed a small ambulance racing back to Calafate. A coach presumably full of tourists, like us bound for the catamaran port had collided with a Volkswagen car, cutting it in half and scattering the debris of wheels, doors and engines across the road. The coach had landed up in the ditch on the wrong side of the road but the passenger compartment was comparatively undamaged, as for the car driver he, presumably left for dead was still strapped into his seat hanging out over a non existent engine with part of his head missing. I had been listening as two American girl students in front of us had been slagging off a ´friend´for her immaturity in going for maximum male conquests on a single night. They said not a word for the rest of a journey.

Ushuaia

Posted 20 March 2007
Argentina agents don't volunteer information to make it easy to get to Chile, and vice versa. We spent hours trying to sort out a move to Torres del Paine in Chile and eventually gave up and decided instead to fly direct to the El Fin del Mundo, ie Ushuaia (Argentina), even though Puerto Williams (Chile) is further south on the other side of the Beagle Channel. It cost only 280A each, 47K, and although we were warned in advance of a 2 hour delay we decided to waste the extra time at the busy new airport, which as a bonus had a restaurant selling competitively priced food.

We took a taxi from the airport for 10A straight to Hostal Malvinas 175A or 30K. Like the choice of name?. Note that Argentine claim all the Antarctica in the sector including Argentina , Falklands and South Georgia. I think that Britain claim most of that as well - and Chile too, in fact I was sure at the time that we took South Georgia before invading the Falklands simply for Antarctic territorial reasons.

We were also reminded of being 13,750km from London.

The Beagle Channel is quite an impressive place and Ushuaia is surrounded by peaks. The weather changes several times a day. One day it was raining when we entered a museum at 10am, then brilliant blue sky from 11am until about 5pm by which time we had completed a walk along the Senda Costera, with fantastic views of the channel and lots of photos in proof. It began to pour again as we reached the road but a minibus stopped and although full except for the front seat for her majesty they took us back to town - yours truly had to do with sitting on a pile of rucksacks!

A BEAUTIFUL WALK ALONG THE BEAGLE CHANNEL

USHUAIA, SUN and STORM OVER BEAGLE CHANNEL

Next morning as we left for Punta Arenas at dawn the peaks were all covered in a sprinkling of fresh white snow as in the picture postcards. When it's fine the weather is idyllic, but when the sun disappears and the cold wind blows it is distinctly freezing.

The day before we had signed up for a combined minibus and boat trip to a penguin island just off-shore from the Haberton Estancia. That was a great success. Again the guide was full of information, this time it was Daniella a young woman from Buenos Aires who came to Diego del Fuera a year ago and liked it so much that she is intending to stay.

She told us of the problems of conservation which had been caused by the introduction of beavers from Canada in the early 20th century because it was hoped to make a profit from the sale of skins. However it turned out that the beavers did not produce valuable fur in this environment, even worse they multiplied rapidly having no natural predators to replace the bears of Canada. They now estimate the population of beavers is 90,000 compared with the human population of 50,000 in Ushuaia.

She showed us a spot where they had dammed the river to create a small lake which in turn caused the desirable waterlogged trees to die. One valuable resource was the peat bogs, for fuel and as a complex chemical. Nevertheless the surroundings close to the Beagle Channel were still pretty enough with a great deal of tree cover and even grassy fields. We were surprised on leaving to discover that the large majority of the island was almost as flat, tree-less, windswept and boring as the pampas, although with a little better pasture for sheep.

We transferred to small boat to go on a very bumpy ride to the island (Isla Martillo) where we saw a penguin colony at close quarters, two types, Magellanes and the larger red beaked, yellow footed Gentu. Most of this year's young had left for warmer northern climes, but a couple remained as did a few examples of last years young who were malting so as get their adult plumage. 

A SKUA FISHING

The adults were regaining weight after breeding so as to be fit enough to follow. We saw their only predators the Skuas, who now fed by frightening the penguins into sicking up their food, though in easier times they had fed on eggs and young chicks. This island had been selected in preference to the many others nearby because it had some foliage to provide their nests with some cover from the Skuas. We also saw a shoal of sardines be driven onto the shore by swimming penguins.

The island was the property on Haberton Estancia, which still belonged to the English missionary family who were the original founders of Ushuaia. (Argentina declared all offshore islands as property of the state - including of course the Falklands and South Georgia, but left many in the Haberton Estancia. The family were determined to conserve the area and allowed only 45 visitors a day to set foot in the penguin island.

ISLA MARTILLO, HARBOUR

The wife of the present owner had created the well displayed museum, a monument to a quarter of a century of collection of marine mammal carcasses, which continues to this day. Whales and dolphins of all kinds, purpoises, sea lions, seals, plus a few sea birds and penguins. The current workerse were four women, three Argentinian vetinary students plus Vanessa a qualified vet from Brazil. They took us on a conducted tour of the museum displays in Spanish.

PRIVATE MUSEUM of HABBERTON ESTANCIA

Then showed us the room where all the other skeletons were stored, plus their latest arrivals, a Sea lions head, on which they was beginning the process of removing of the flesh (mainly by soaking in warm water for up to a year), cleaning, measuring and storing. 

SKELETON STORE

VANESSA and THE SEA LION'S HEAD

There was a recently received Petrel in full plumage and huge wingspan. Vanessa's main interest was in trying to save sick mammals, such as the whale which recently beached in the Thames, and on this assignment to improve her knowledge of Spanish.

On the way back we noted the various ski lifts as the area tried to develop around the year tourist economy. Also the large packs of husky dogs which were used to pull sledges in the snow for pleasure seekers. The flat peat bog areas were being developed for cross country skiing.

USHUAIA CHANGES AGAIN

El Estancia in Ushuaia was a carvery with a lot of difference. For 30A or 5K you were invited to eat as much meat as you wanted. Since there were always four whole lambs being spit roasted in a very attractive window display you would be right to conclude they were never short of customers. Saturday night I got a huge chunk of prime leg meat which was delicious but was not quite as lucky the next night, largely because the less experience chef had almost run out of carcasses ready for eating. I should have changed to beef, though sausage and chicken were also available, as were a full range of salads and much else plus a choice of good sweets. The only minimal extras were mineral water and wine.

Again when trying to book our way out to Punta Arenas we found they went out of their way to make it difficult to cross the border. At least three agencies offered buses, but non of them had a bus every day, and they claimed not to know which days or what times the others offered. The first had no bus on the day we wanted, and in any case it left at an inconvenient 5.30am, the next also had no bus the day we wanted, but at least theirs (a Chilean Bus) left at 8am, they suggested we investigated a third option of minibus to Rio Grande and come back to them for the connection on to Punta Arenas (Sandy Point) but the only mini early enough left at 6am. So we went back and booked the 8am Chilean bus for a day earlier than we had intended. Bad enough logistics in itself but these were agencies not a bus station, so each visit involved a 45 minute wait in a queue whilst they sold tickets to Antartica, Hertz rent a car, hotels, local tours etc. There was an unexpected treat because dolphins accompanied our ferry most of the way to Chile.

LEAVING USHUAIA after SNOWY NIGHT, shot taken through bus window

Today in Punta Arenas we have mapped out the rest of our holiday. We will go on a three day two night visit, a day and one night in Puerto Natales and next day a minibus tour of Torres del Paine where we will stay in a top class hotel in Torres del Paine 80K for two. On Sunday 25 March we have an air flight with Aerolineas del Sur (2 x 80K) booked from Punta Arenas to Santiago and on Thursday 29 March we leave for home with LAN Chile and Iberia from Madrid.

Concepcion and Valporaiso will have to wait for another time. But given decent weather in Torres del Paine (and that is a big ask) we will have covered the south pretty comprehensively. More later about Punta Arenas where we became friendly with three young people from Malta, and Torres del Paine.

Punta Arenas Puerto Natales

Posted 27 March 2007
Punta Arenas, unlike most Chilean towns showed fully its European colonial past. There were European style city buildings of some presence, many with plaques indicating their connection with the early antartic explorers like Scott, Shackleton and Amundsen. The old post office from which Scott posted 400 cards on his successful return from his first reconnaisance is now a centre for the administration of Chilean Antarctica (an area also claimed by Britain and Argentina). 

PUNTA ARENAS (Sandy Point)

You would however be forgiven for not knowing this was once one of the most strategic of ports, because of Antarctica and of the wealth arising from the world dominant Chilean wool trade in the late 1800s and early 1900s. That the town is even by the sea is a well hidden fact (no wonder given the grimy condition of the port and sea shore). In fact as we discovered later on our way to the airport they have now built a second port for their Armada, the tourist cruiser, and nearby a harbour for small fishing boats. Their commercial sea faring heritage is well and truly hidden.

The slump began with the end of sail, so that ships would no longer round Cape Horn in seek of shelter but go further north to Conception to pick up coal mined in its under sea pits. The second factor was of course the opening of the Panama Canal which eliminated the need to go round Cape Horn.

Nevertheless it was an interesting town with a pub with a thriving set lunch trade next door to El Coffee, which unusually for Chile actually produces real coffee and was rewarded with a good local trade, and a visually interesting local smartly suited business clientele.

Whilst wandering around the filthy old seaboard into the Barrio Croatia we made another chance discovery, a cafe called Los Immigrantes. It was packed with locals taking 'onces', and inside the walls were lined with a klaidoscope of photos recording the history of the Croatian community.

LOS IMMIGRANTES   CROATION

The cafe which Dinka had opened just a year ago was thriving and full of atmosphere. The first three pages of the menu recorded the history of the community from its earliest days in the late 1800s and in particular documented both of her parents' families. Showing how they had gone out to seek gold and a much better life only to find themselves in a cold, windy, wet, inhospitable place.

Initially they could only dream of returning to the beautiful climate of their native land. Gradually they mastered the conditions, even getting to pick one lettuce a day from their crop ravished by the wind was at the time a sign of success. Dinka´s father had run the same property as a grocery serving the area for over 50 years, then it closed for nearly ten before she, capitalising on her talent as a pastry cook, converted into an attractive cafe and meeting point. 

There was a guest house called Dinka´s close to where we were staying. Ely House was run by a very cheerful and hardworking woman who charged 2 x 6K and, as Joan observed, reserved a big kiss for all her male guests. She met our bus touting for custom and since she offered free transfer by minibus at the dead of night she cleaned up on the available trade.

In a street nearby The Green House was still advertising its owners, a bagpipe playing psychologist and a anthropologist, one of three guest houses that I had highlighted in our guidebook as of particular interest, but sadly it was completely destroyed by fire. In our first days in Chile Joan had read in the paper that several lives had been lost in a guest house fire in Punta Arenas at the end of December, but we think that had a different name. It all goes to show the hazard of fire in a country of wooden house encapsulated with galvanised steel strip. They are quite simply death traps. We both began to assess the escape routes and concluded we needed to be lucky to get out. For the steel would ensure no easy way to break out and the wood an intense blaze. It goes to show how dependent you are on the good behaviour of your fellow guests.

Though I must say they were a very good but changing group. Two of the Maltese worked for Malta Air and so got free air tickets and had used them to travel widely, the other a postman and one time footballer often joined them. He was proud of the fact that there was a Maltese footballer now playing for Coventry City and made a TV subscription which enabled him to watch all their games.

We spoke with English Patrick who was on an 15 month trip around the world and his girlfriend who had joined him for Christmas in Bali and was now converted to the traveling life. He had recently been to the island Pulau Weh off Bandeh Aceh (Sumatara) of which we have such wonderful memories, and said it was up and running again, and the coral was still magnificent. Takes more than a tsunami to destroy such wonderful natural spots. We left with three handsome young Slovac men intent on trekking in Torres del Paine.

We left the big rucksack at Ely House and took the 9am bus to Puerto Natales, prominent as a tourist centre solely as the stepping off point for Torres del Paine. In contrast to Punta Arenas it was new and with little character. The number of guest houses was testament to the huge number of in transit tourists that they accommodated at the height of season.

The only restaurant in town with any trade, English speaking El Living, was packed with travelers, a place with a lovely informal atmosphere with many people eating on their knees whilst sitting in settees. We had lunch with another English lady of our age who had been in Coyhaique several years ago on an Operation Raleigh project. (They had built a large suspension bridge linking a village in Borneo with the pasture on the other side of a major river.) She had a berth on the Navemag ferry which was to depart that evening on the 4 day trip north to Puerto Montt - something we had originally planned to do.

Our landlady had suggested we take a taxi and visit the Frigorifico museum at Puerto Borries.

PUERTO BORRIES

 Not knowing what to expect we arrived at a desolate factory which was now being converted to a museum to remind us that in the early 1900s this had been the export centre for what was the largest shep trade in the world. In those days there were 60 million sheep in Patagonia, but now with the changes in trade pattern that had fallen to 3 million. In its heyday it had a compound for 250,000 live sheep. It carried out the shearing, washed and dried the wool before packing in bales. The sheep were slaughtered and the fat and skins were separated off. The fat was processed ready for use in the candle and soap industries and put in barrels. The skins were tanned and packed. The mutton was frozen ready for export. All the products were loaded on ships bound for Europe from the associated jetty.

The train that pulled the wagons to the ships was also used morning and night to transfer workers from Puerto Natales, was displayed in the that town. Four hundred people worked in the plant rising to 800 at the peak season. They lost trade due to the opening up of the Panama canal, the rise of the New Zealand industry and the transition from frozen to chilled meat exporting. The teeth of sheep, which had been originally introduced from the Falklands, were not adapted to the tough yellow grass of Patagonia, so they wore down causing the sheep to pull up the grass rather than bite it, thus destroying their own habitat.

HASLAM of DERBY AMMONIA COMPRESSOR

The machinery rooms were still fully equipped with their original 1913 British machinery. The huge steam driven Haslam of Derby ammonia compressors with their immense flywheels were in as good a condition as when they were first installed. In deed I wondered if the firm had been back recently to clean and renovate. The 100 volt DC generators had been built by Bellis and Morecombe, the coal and wood fired boilers were by made by Babcock and the refrigeration controls by a firm from London. It's easy to wonder at the extent of British world trade, with the prestige of our manufacturing of the day and the need to import of wool and lamb.

Back in the El Living we got talking to Heink and his wife who was nicknamed Will, who were a similar age to us. They were Dutch and had just completed a three week sail in a yacht from Ushuaia, five paying crew who got on really well. The middle-aged Dutch woman who was skipper and her husband came in later. 

Heink and Will were retired and had traveled longer than us. They had stated in 1986, we too had been in Nepal in 1989 at the height of the kerosene dispute with India and we all had been in China last Sept/October. Before leaving they gave us their contact details and a heart felt invitation to call them if we were ever near Rotterdam, refusing my offer to reciprocate with a 'you come first'.