The rises just kept on coming. The wind was getting stronger and stronger as I winded my way along the gravel trail up the steep rock face. 1 Km left said the sign. 1Km is not much walking on flat ground, but on a heavy inclination, with gravel that falls away under each step making it twice as hard to put one foot in front of the other. My calves began to burn and my arms began to freeze. I looked back and saw the two figues behind me only 50 meters away. I had to get to the top before them. I had to be look out on this view alone, just me and view. The End of the World! Each turn that I came around only revealed more of the climb. As I passes others coming down, bundled up in warm jackets and hats while me, the Canadian was walking up in a t-shirt and pants. I had brought extra clothes for the summit, if it would ever come! I had walked through forest and marsh and now was too high for any of it to grow. Only jagged, flacky rocks inhabited this steep rise. When I finally reached the summit there was still a group there, having lunch, huddled behind a rock, out of the strong westernly winds. I was cold by this point. I quickly threw on more layers and sat down to refuel myself. The two figures behind me arrived and turned out to be a pair of americans. They didn´t last long. ¨Lets just get the photo and get down¨ they said. I laughed as everyone left and I casually stayed. I would get my peaceful panoramic view afterall. Afterall, what is the point in working that hard to climb something if you are just going to leave immediately after you arrive at the climax. Cold and wind is temporary, views and experiences can be burnt into your mind forever. Walking around the plateau-like section on top of this spine of rock almost 1000 meters above sea level. Down, far below, almost at sea level lay Ushuaia With its big cruise ships and airport peninsula curving out into the Beagle Channel. Over in the opposite direction lay the Chilean side of the island. Snowcapped mountain all around, Blue and green lakes and rivers winding there way between hills to spill out into the Channel. The view was fantastic. The entire National Park could be seen below. The Tierra Del Fuego national Park. Here I was on Tierra del Fuego. The end of the world. As I began to come down Cerro Guanaco huge dark clouds and fog destroyed the once splendid view. Wind increased tenfold and I had to take great care not be blown off the side of the face. Pouring rain began to wash my clothes and skin rather thoroughly. Half-way down the rain let up as I entered the wooded part once more. As I passed other on their way up I felt extremely sorry for them. What a poor day to do the climb. I myself was rather lucky. If I had arrived 30 minutes later there wouldn´t have been much to see. Once getting to the bottom the clouds reasserted themselve showing that they were not finished yet. When I arrived back to my camp and found that rain had entered my cheap, aweful tent and got several things of mine wet. I quickly packed up my things and just as I was finishing the sun came out. What perfect timing, right after I finish packing up! I took the next bus out of the park back to Ushuaia.
Ushuaia is a small, colourful city. All the buildings are relatively plain with sheet metal rooves of blue, green, orange, pink and all other colours. The streets rise away from the large port at the base always full of enormous cargo ships and rich cruise ships full of people that have the money to do the multi-day cruises down to Antartica. Ushuaia is a very touristy city. Full of many languages and old folk (with money), tourist shops, and tour agencies. Everything here is more expensive. It costs almost twice as much for a general hostel. I havn´t even bothered to check restaurants... The island called Tierra del Fuego is divided between Chile and Argentina. It was given the name Land of Fire by the first explorers who, upon arrival, saw enormous clouds of smoke rising from all over the island. This smoke came from large fires that were constantly maintained throughout the day and night by the indigenous people populating the island at the time. These people lived completely without clothing and used the fires, along with sea lion fat all over the skin, to stay warm through the cold winters. There was about 3000 of these inhabitants living on the island when the white man arrived. Within a few years after their arrival theirs number had depleited down to a few hundred!
Much of the northern part of the island is flat, lacking beauty or vegetation. Once the highway leads south and gets back into the Andes mountain range things start looking up. Mountains dominate the scene with hidden, untouched lakes lieing in the valles, with rivers and stream connecting them. The tranquility of this place is astounding. The absolute purity of the scenery and nature here is a wonderful sight. Such few inhabitants live on this island, between the 2 main cities (Rio Grande in the North and Ushuaia in the South) there is practically nothing, just farm land and animals. These two main cities are growing though especially in the tourist industry. Many people living up north where work can be scarce move down to Tierra del Fuego and find work with ease and stay for years. The temperature here is relatively mild believe it or not. It never gets extremely hot or cold compared to at home, which is the opposite. Right now in summer it is an average of about 15 degrees throughout the day with sun. During the winter it only goes slightly below 0 degrees although there is lots of wind off the ocean. This being said, even now in the summer the weather is extremely erratic, changing several times a day save snowing. Often a day can start quite sunny with lots of wind, by the afternoon clouds come in and begin to rain at times like mist other times torrential downpour as was explained earlier in this entry. This means that going out for a day trip one must be extremely prepared for any. Just because you can go out in a tshirt now doesn´t mean it will stay like that!At night it doesn´t exactly get dark per se, just extremely cloudy. The sun sets yet a weird sort of light stays in the sky except the light does not always come from where the sun has set. A blue sort of inconsistent colour of afterglow pokes through the clouds that always build up at night and take over the sky. The winds that may have blown all day long all of a sudden stop and the night is always very calm and quiet. In the park these tanquil nights were very calming, backed with a soft sound of flowing water all around and the movement of rabbits running about chewing on grass.
My first day in Ushuaia I directly went to the national park and stayed for 2 days. There I met up with Mark, my Catalán friend from Bariloche and we spent the night together in a free campsite. The day after this Mark left to El Calafate and we agreed to meet in Puerto Natales in another National Park there. I spent a day taking a boat along the Beagle channel to different islands and to see some wildlife, mainly sea lions and birds. I have decided that sea lions are a disgraceful and disgusting animal. They never do anything, just lie about on top of each other, they smell of waste and fish and are constantly making belching and vomiting noises as they try to clear their bowels of the rot that they feed themselves on. I have no desire to ever see another sea lion in my life. Penguins can be seen here although it is heavily overpriced unfortunately, like everything else in Ushuaia. For the next 2 days after this I visited 2 different glaciers and natural lagoons, camped out for one night and did some exhilerating and slightly dangerous rock climbing to reach beautiful heights on the glacier and be right next to the ice. This provided me with fantastic views of course so you can be sure that my photos will be the best, don´t bother looking anywhere else!
Ushuaia was an awesome stop, while slightly expensive, the location was definitely worth it to see. I would like to come back when I have enough money to take part in all the seriously fun stuff! I was heading next to Puerto Natales in Chile where the Torres del Paine park sits right outside of the town. This park is said to be the best in Patagonia. Although just before new years a large forest fire started which spread and burnt a large portion of the park. When I was in Valparaiso I was with a volunteer firefighter when he got word of it. He would have missed new years to go! Alas his station did not specialize in putting out forest fires so he was given the grand opportunity in going. Just a few weeks ago the fire was successfully snuffed and the park is now open once again to the public, although what percentage of the park, I do not know. I will find out and let you all know of course! :D
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Hippy Jam Fest - El Bolson - January 15th - January 23rd
3El Bolson. Hippies settled here years ago. Over time, the settlement has grown into the town it is today. Full of hippies, I don´t believe that one could live here if they did not share that sort of mind-set, whether or not they look like a hippy on the outside or not. So what does a hippy look like? Well sir, thats a damn good question, but if anyone heard the basic, blunt description I don´t think anyone would be attracted. Dirty, dreads and/or other strange or rediculous hairstyles, loose colourful clothing, piercings or tattoos, sandals, long fingernails, funny way of talking, a certain shine in eyes. I think the last description noted is the most key, the majority of the people who live in this town have this shine. All of the people are very nice, relaxed, interested. The atmosphere is something else. I would stay here for a life-time, just be immersed in the atmosphere. A word we english westerners would call ¨chill¨, except to a whole other degree. Upon stepping into the town it was not evidently noted that I was not stepping into a different world (like some have described). ¨Oh Man Its Like Stepping Back Into The 70´s Man¨. I was not hit with a 70´s feel, yet I was not living to experience the 70´s. I have hardly seen any law enforcement here in the town and when I have they have stood in groups of 3 or 4 and minded their own business. 3 or 4 days a week ¨LA FERRIA¨ happens. La Ferria is a artesania market which occupies the semi-circular main plaza of the town. Here, around the outside, lining both sides of the street, are little kiosks, side by side, full of hippies selling their works. The amounts of things they sell here is immense. Bracelets, Bags, Jewelry, Drug Parifanalia, Musical Instruments, Chocolates, Beers, Local Foods, Breads, Cheeses, Art, Woodworkings. This street of kiosks is always full of people. The streets around it are full of parked cars. Everyone comes to check out whats new in the Ferria. It is an awesome feeling. In the plaza lay people on the green grass, eating, drinking, smoking under the numerous trees´ shade. In the middel of this grass lies a sizeable man-made pond, oval shaped, with people in paddleboats peddling over the blue waters, chatting of a warm cup of Mate. I stopped at one place to look over the wares displayed. A tall, white man with a beard and dreadlocks going in all directions jumped up and immediately began to practice his english with me (which was quite good). I told him I was from Canada and he said with a joyous smile, that he was from ¨here!¨. We proceeded to talk about how the states were putting in a large oil line through Canada down into the southern states. He talked about it with dislike, obviously towards the americans. I myself, suprised that he even knew that it was taking place, told him of what little I knew of the story. He agreed with my dislike towards the american, and asked asked ¨Canada is much like Argentina isn´t it¨ with honesty I assured him that it was in many ways, and this is the truth. After this conversation ended the hippy proceeded to solicite me drugs. What a good town, and what a good market they have! As I left La Ferria I saw a few groups of law enforcement calmly minding their own business, fantastic!
The nights in El Bolson are quite lively. The sun goes down here at around 10 o clock at night, I never eat no earlier than 9 o clock, simply because it does not feel late, then all of a sudden it is 11! Many people sit and hang out in the main plaza and play music in the respective groups, the subtle scent of marijuana smoke often present. Other night, small concerts play and groups of people come out and dance with their boyfriends or children. Everyone stays out late, even young kids of 10 years old can be seen walking around at midnight. I can´t imagine crime takes place in this town very often.
I spent most of my time in El Bolson with Argentinians. Upon arrival I had no idea where to go, I went to a travel agent and they wrote down a place which was close, proved to be very nice and was full of argentinians, mainly women. Argentina is said to be one of the more beautiful populaces of the world. It has been interesting to see how the people have changed from country to country, personality and physical features combined. The attest for their fame, Agentinians have been the most stunning, both men and women. I was a gringo surrounded by Argentinians, thus I got a fair bit of attention. During this time is holidays throughout most of south america I believe. Thus I am meeting a lot of Argentinians travelling during this time. I have seen more argentinians than foreigners if that says anything. I have hardly heard any english in the last few weeks yet seen far more people travelling with tents and camping equipment. Opportunity to camp is much greater here than anywhere that I have been. A good way to save money, which I had been getting better at doing. I have begun to wash my own clothes, make my own food, and camp (after buying a cheap tent) more and more often.
My first night in the small, cozy hostel I made a large, delicious meal for 4 or 5 girls that were travelling, a bit of a dowry you could call it. That sort of bought my way in and spent the night hanging out with the group of them and others from the hostel. This group left the next day and as I was making plans to do a hike up to one of the many ¨refugios¨ (refuge, sort of like a cabin, camping area in the wilderness) I met 3 other argentinian men that were planning on doing the same. The day after we left together and camped out for the next 2 night, with 2 full days of tough walking. Between the 2 days we probably walked around 40 Km of steep uphill climbing. It was a good group I was with, All from the Buenos Aires Province, 2 studying in Buenos Aires and the third in Bahia Blanca on the eastern coast. Gaspar was a musician and taught me a fair bit of guitar. Juan was a pretty boy but not in persona and Messa was the quiet accomplice to Juan.We hiked up towards Cerro Hielo Azul and the refugio of the same name. The following day we hiked all the way to the top of the mountain to see the snow clusters there and the receding glacier where parts of it showed blue. (Hielo Azul mean Blue Ice). After descending from the summit we packed and started to go all the way back down. By the end we were all exhausted and sore. Gaspar, being quite a bit heavier and less fit then the rest of us struggled both on the ascent and descent, saying ¨Words cannot descirbe the pain I am experiencing in my foot right now!¨ We made it finally, I was left with a great feeling of achievement and strength, followed by a sobering wave of fatigue which I would spend the next day working on riding myself of.
The three were good company although at first we did not connect, simply because of the difficulty in understanding the Argentinian accent. This difficulty I believe affected my confidence which left me not feeling like myself. The second night I took it upon myself to make a fire, the dinner (which was tasty) and start the conversation. By the third day we were a close group and stuck together late into the night. I left them laying in the plaza, preparing to sleep on the ground there under a bush because they did not want to pay for a hostel for 6 hours of sleep (they were leaving in the morning). I myself went back to the same hostel to recover and wait for the next available bus to the far south, where I would stay as long as I felt was financially possible.
EDIT
I actually ended up staying 3 extra days longer than desired and expected in El Bolsón. I continuously had trouble arranging a bus down south and was stuck there. Luckily I was stuck in a place that I really enjoyed. I spent the next 3 days partially twiddling my thumbs, full of stress over ¨wasting time¨. Aside from this I did some general walks around the beuatiful nature that surrounds El Bolsón, listened to music (because there are constant festivites going on here in the summer) and met more Argentinians. I finally left on the 23rd, more than ready to leave.
I arrived in Rio Gallegos after a 23 hour bus ride down. It was the 24th of January and it was about 11 o´clock, All the buses that went to Ushuaia from here (another 15 hours) left in the morning. So I was once again forced to spend another night somewhere. I camped out in a place near the station and spent the day walking around the center, which consisted of absolutely nothing of interest. Only homes and uninteresting stores. I went to catch my first glimse of the Atlantic Ocean which was not spectacular either. The next day I was more than ready to get on my way to Ushuaia, the end of the world. To get there we would have to cross into Chile, cross the Magellan Straights onto the Big Island, Tierra Del Fuego (Land of Fire), and cross back into Argentina and down to Ushuaia. The Southermost City of the World.
The nights in El Bolson are quite lively. The sun goes down here at around 10 o clock at night, I never eat no earlier than 9 o clock, simply because it does not feel late, then all of a sudden it is 11! Many people sit and hang out in the main plaza and play music in the respective groups, the subtle scent of marijuana smoke often present. Other night, small concerts play and groups of people come out and dance with their boyfriends or children. Everyone stays out late, even young kids of 10 years old can be seen walking around at midnight. I can´t imagine crime takes place in this town very often.
I spent most of my time in El Bolson with Argentinians. Upon arrival I had no idea where to go, I went to a travel agent and they wrote down a place which was close, proved to be very nice and was full of argentinians, mainly women. Argentina is said to be one of the more beautiful populaces of the world. It has been interesting to see how the people have changed from country to country, personality and physical features combined. The attest for their fame, Agentinians have been the most stunning, both men and women. I was a gringo surrounded by Argentinians, thus I got a fair bit of attention. During this time is holidays throughout most of south america I believe. Thus I am meeting a lot of Argentinians travelling during this time. I have seen more argentinians than foreigners if that says anything. I have hardly heard any english in the last few weeks yet seen far more people travelling with tents and camping equipment. Opportunity to camp is much greater here than anywhere that I have been. A good way to save money, which I had been getting better at doing. I have begun to wash my own clothes, make my own food, and camp (after buying a cheap tent) more and more often.
My first night in the small, cozy hostel I made a large, delicious meal for 4 or 5 girls that were travelling, a bit of a dowry you could call it. That sort of bought my way in and spent the night hanging out with the group of them and others from the hostel. This group left the next day and as I was making plans to do a hike up to one of the many ¨refugios¨ (refuge, sort of like a cabin, camping area in the wilderness) I met 3 other argentinian men that were planning on doing the same. The day after we left together and camped out for the next 2 night, with 2 full days of tough walking. Between the 2 days we probably walked around 40 Km of steep uphill climbing. It was a good group I was with, All from the Buenos Aires Province, 2 studying in Buenos Aires and the third in Bahia Blanca on the eastern coast. Gaspar was a musician and taught me a fair bit of guitar. Juan was a pretty boy but not in persona and Messa was the quiet accomplice to Juan.We hiked up towards Cerro Hielo Azul and the refugio of the same name. The following day we hiked all the way to the top of the mountain to see the snow clusters there and the receding glacier where parts of it showed blue. (Hielo Azul mean Blue Ice). After descending from the summit we packed and started to go all the way back down. By the end we were all exhausted and sore. Gaspar, being quite a bit heavier and less fit then the rest of us struggled both on the ascent and descent, saying ¨Words cannot descirbe the pain I am experiencing in my foot right now!¨ We made it finally, I was left with a great feeling of achievement and strength, followed by a sobering wave of fatigue which I would spend the next day working on riding myself of.
The three were good company although at first we did not connect, simply because of the difficulty in understanding the Argentinian accent. This difficulty I believe affected my confidence which left me not feeling like myself. The second night I took it upon myself to make a fire, the dinner (which was tasty) and start the conversation. By the third day we were a close group and stuck together late into the night. I left them laying in the plaza, preparing to sleep on the ground there under a bush because they did not want to pay for a hostel for 6 hours of sleep (they were leaving in the morning). I myself went back to the same hostel to recover and wait for the next available bus to the far south, where I would stay as long as I felt was financially possible.
EDIT
I actually ended up staying 3 extra days longer than desired and expected in El Bolsón. I continuously had trouble arranging a bus down south and was stuck there. Luckily I was stuck in a place that I really enjoyed. I spent the next 3 days partially twiddling my thumbs, full of stress over ¨wasting time¨. Aside from this I did some general walks around the beuatiful nature that surrounds El Bolsón, listened to music (because there are constant festivites going on here in the summer) and met more Argentinians. I finally left on the 23rd, more than ready to leave.
I arrived in Rio Gallegos after a 23 hour bus ride down. It was the 24th of January and it was about 11 o´clock, All the buses that went to Ushuaia from here (another 15 hours) left in the morning. So I was once again forced to spend another night somewhere. I camped out in a place near the station and spent the day walking around the center, which consisted of absolutely nothing of interest. Only homes and uninteresting stores. I went to catch my first glimse of the Atlantic Ocean which was not spectacular either. The next day I was more than ready to get on my way to Ushuaia, the end of the world. To get there we would have to cross into Chile, cross the Magellan Straights onto the Big Island, Tierra Del Fuego (Land of Fire), and cross back into Argentina and down to Ushuaia. The Southermost City of the World.
Road Trippin´ - San Carlos De Bariloche - January 11th - 15th
Getting to Bariloche was relatively long, lasting about 18 hours in total with a 2 hour lay over in Neuquen, where my connecting bus was an extra hour late. Suprisingly that has been the latest bus that I have taken. I arrived to Bariloche and immediately noticed the difference in temperature. Bariloche, sitting on the south shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi and on the eastern side of the National Park, named after Lake. This is Argentina´s lake district, directly across the border to Chile lies the Chilean Lake District.
I have now entered Patagonia!
Patagonia is heavily mistaken as being the small section of Argentina, the southermost point. This is wrong. The Patagonia area covers around 1 third of the length of the country and has a range of climates and geography. It is not all cold with snow covered mountains. The Patagonia region is extremely popular world-wide for its beautiful geography. I hear it gets only more expensive as you get further south to the more remote areas. Anyone can experience Patagonia, many old folks with mucho dinero come and do trips, see mountains and cruise to Antartica... like my grandfather. Unfortunately, I do not have that kind of money, yet, Antartica will have to wait. Although maybe there is a cheap ride to the Falklands. ANYWAYS. A large portion of the ride from Neuquen to Bariloche was absolutely enchanting scenery. Arriving in the town only brought more of it. Tall, snowcapped mountains, blue lakes, green grass. This is one of the most beautiful landscapes that I have experienced so far. The city iself is not extremely attractive, although the center reminds me a bit of a ski resort town, by design and architecture. There are no sky scrapers in the this city. I would love to visit this area again in the winter and do some serious skiing for a few weeks. Riddled all over the main street are locally made chocolate shops, many of which are huge, having an enormous storefront of every find of chocolate you could imagine along with different types of icecream as well as a huge cafe sort of thing in the back, where people go to socially chat and try various forms of sugar! How Splendid! We tried to take a seat although there was a 30 minute wait for a table! I couldn´t help but think that this would greatly resemble Santa´s workshop in the winter, we just need to import some Bolivians and dress then up as little brown elves with missing teeth. There, now we have a vivid picture. Off Topic Again.
I walked the 30 minutes to the hostel, all the while being blown around by the strong winds off the lake, which made it quite chilly. I wondered whether every day would be like this. As soon as I got to my hostel and got outfitted with a room, I met my roommates, Mark and Anabell, more couples, more catalans, although Mark is definitely not a common Catalan name, considering his own people don´t even pronounce it right, sounds more like ¨Mar¨ when they say it. Its like when you meet an Asian and he tells you his name is Anthony, whats you´re real name Anthony? I laughed about it to myself and carried on. Within 5 minutes we knew eachothers back grounds and trip history, withing 10 minutes they were informing me of their plan for the next few days in Bariloche. Within 15 minutes they were offering me to join them in a car rental and drive around the northern part of the Park on the route called ¨7 Lakes Road¨, pretty straight forward, we drive by 7 lakes. I couldn´t turn down the offer, after all, renting a car was one of the things I had been thinking about wanting to do in the weeks previous to my arrival here. Fate had dealt me a good hand.
We awoke the next morning and took off. It took some time to get used to the differences in vehicles and cultures of driving, such as there are no stop signs or traffic lights anywhere, everyone has to yield! all the time! how does that work? pretty much whichever direction of traffic had momentum continues to have momentum unless someone in that dirrection chooses to stop or turn, then the other dirrection quickly jumps at the opportunity and takes control. All the streets are one way, so one must devise a game plan before trying to get anywhere or do anything. Cops are hardly ever spotted in the city, only once we left did we start seeing them. Standing in the middle of the road, on the median, with pylons also down the median, telling people to slow down if they were going to fast. What a damn good job to keep the law enforcement busy with. Once we got out of city and past these pointless police control points we were free. We set out on the road to San Martin de Los Andes about 180 Km away. The scenery was stellar, driving was refreshing and the people I was with were good company and it got me speaking spanish again. Having our own car, stopping when we wanted and where we wanted, these are the beauties of raod trips. The lakes were very cold and varying in size and shades of blue. The mountains around were also beautiful as well as the natural rock formations. We spent the whole day getting to San Martin, lazily driving and stopping for large amounts of time to relax and enjoy the nature around us. It was a very enjoyable trip and arriving in San Martin was a good way to finish the day. San Martin is like a small Bariloche, where practically the entire town hs that ski lodge feel. It was very warm all day, it also sits on the shores of a beautiful lake, nestled between the Andes. A cute and expensive town that we did not spend much time in. We had dinner and drove a few Km out of town to a campsite where we slept. Mark and Anabelle had bought a tent the same day I had met them, it was a 2 man. We squeezed into it that night (which I am still suprised even worked), head - to - feet formation we slept uncomfortably. We awoke in the morning, again early and drove up into the andes to do a short but very steep climb up a mountain there which offered a great view of the entire surrounding area. Once descended we carried on down the road and arrived at another campsite, on the shores of another lake for that night. The tent was tremendously hot and I ended up sleeping outside, on the sand beach, in my sleeping bag, on my thermarest, with a low and bright moon reflecting off the waters of Lago Traful. It was hard to close my eyes and fall asleep when offered such an awesome view. I woke up exhausted from the last few days lack of sleep and late nights talking and stumbling over guitar. I slept for the entire drive back to Bariloche and spent all of that same day relaxing. The next day, Mark and Anabelle went on a three day trekk outside of Bariloche which I turned down the offer to because I felt like it was time to move on. I myself spent the morning of that day rockclimbing. It was a private lesson, my Instructors name was Cora, being in Argentina I couldn´t help but hope for a beautiful climbing babe helping me up the rock face. When I arrived late, I was sad to see an old worn out woman with a harness by the roadside, impatiently smoking. When I approached her I smelt a mix of body odour and cigarette smoke. Her face was lined with wrinkles that increased tenfold when she smiled, errupted all over her face. This was not the babe I had been hoping for. At any rate Cora was a very nice woman and assisted me greatly with completeing challenges which I, at first, struggled with. We spent the 3 hours together talking of climbing, ourselves and Argentina as a country. It was an great morning that left me absolutely spent. My entire body ached, mainly my hands (which now had scratches all over them) and my feet (which we crammed into shoes that were too small for 3 hours, which Cora said is normal for climbers). I made my way back to Bariloche, satisfied with the 3 hours I had been given.
I think many tourists, at least I do anyway, always look for the best price for the longest duration of time when looking for activities to do. I had spent the last 2 stops always looking for full day excursions or multi day excursions. More time doing something does not mean it will be better. Some things are better left short and sweet (expecially if you are a beginner), then if you like what you tried, try it again, and again and again, for longer periods of time. I was constantly looking for full days although in hindsight, I am glad that the climbing was only 3 hours because, in all honesty, my muscles would not have lasted another minute. Likewise for horsebackriding. After only 2 or 3 hours of poor riding on my part my genitals and ass hurt more than I could explain. I has happy to get off that damn horse when I did. That being said I will readily get back on the next when the opportunity arrises once more! So does this have some higher meaning, should I learn something from this? Maybe we should not always relate experience to time. A longer trip is not necissarily a better one, a 3 day trek may not be better than a 2 day trek. So is not more about what we do with the time given, than the amount of time itself?
Later that afternoon I took the next available bus down to El Bolson, only 2 hours further south of Bariloche. El Bolson is a smaller town, full of hippies and farms all around the surrounding area.
I have now entered Patagonia!
Patagonia is heavily mistaken as being the small section of Argentina, the southermost point. This is wrong. The Patagonia area covers around 1 third of the length of the country and has a range of climates and geography. It is not all cold with snow covered mountains. The Patagonia region is extremely popular world-wide for its beautiful geography. I hear it gets only more expensive as you get further south to the more remote areas. Anyone can experience Patagonia, many old folks with mucho dinero come and do trips, see mountains and cruise to Antartica... like my grandfather. Unfortunately, I do not have that kind of money, yet, Antartica will have to wait. Although maybe there is a cheap ride to the Falklands. ANYWAYS. A large portion of the ride from Neuquen to Bariloche was absolutely enchanting scenery. Arriving in the town only brought more of it. Tall, snowcapped mountains, blue lakes, green grass. This is one of the most beautiful landscapes that I have experienced so far. The city iself is not extremely attractive, although the center reminds me a bit of a ski resort town, by design and architecture. There are no sky scrapers in the this city. I would love to visit this area again in the winter and do some serious skiing for a few weeks. Riddled all over the main street are locally made chocolate shops, many of which are huge, having an enormous storefront of every find of chocolate you could imagine along with different types of icecream as well as a huge cafe sort of thing in the back, where people go to socially chat and try various forms of sugar! How Splendid! We tried to take a seat although there was a 30 minute wait for a table! I couldn´t help but think that this would greatly resemble Santa´s workshop in the winter, we just need to import some Bolivians and dress then up as little brown elves with missing teeth. There, now we have a vivid picture. Off Topic Again.
I walked the 30 minutes to the hostel, all the while being blown around by the strong winds off the lake, which made it quite chilly. I wondered whether every day would be like this. As soon as I got to my hostel and got outfitted with a room, I met my roommates, Mark and Anabell, more couples, more catalans, although Mark is definitely not a common Catalan name, considering his own people don´t even pronounce it right, sounds more like ¨Mar¨ when they say it. Its like when you meet an Asian and he tells you his name is Anthony, whats you´re real name Anthony? I laughed about it to myself and carried on. Within 5 minutes we knew eachothers back grounds and trip history, withing 10 minutes they were informing me of their plan for the next few days in Bariloche. Within 15 minutes they were offering me to join them in a car rental and drive around the northern part of the Park on the route called ¨7 Lakes Road¨, pretty straight forward, we drive by 7 lakes. I couldn´t turn down the offer, after all, renting a car was one of the things I had been thinking about wanting to do in the weeks previous to my arrival here. Fate had dealt me a good hand.
We awoke the next morning and took off. It took some time to get used to the differences in vehicles and cultures of driving, such as there are no stop signs or traffic lights anywhere, everyone has to yield! all the time! how does that work? pretty much whichever direction of traffic had momentum continues to have momentum unless someone in that dirrection chooses to stop or turn, then the other dirrection quickly jumps at the opportunity and takes control. All the streets are one way, so one must devise a game plan before trying to get anywhere or do anything. Cops are hardly ever spotted in the city, only once we left did we start seeing them. Standing in the middle of the road, on the median, with pylons also down the median, telling people to slow down if they were going to fast. What a damn good job to keep the law enforcement busy with. Once we got out of city and past these pointless police control points we were free. We set out on the road to San Martin de Los Andes about 180 Km away. The scenery was stellar, driving was refreshing and the people I was with were good company and it got me speaking spanish again. Having our own car, stopping when we wanted and where we wanted, these are the beauties of raod trips. The lakes were very cold and varying in size and shades of blue. The mountains around were also beautiful as well as the natural rock formations. We spent the whole day getting to San Martin, lazily driving and stopping for large amounts of time to relax and enjoy the nature around us. It was a very enjoyable trip and arriving in San Martin was a good way to finish the day. San Martin is like a small Bariloche, where practically the entire town hs that ski lodge feel. It was very warm all day, it also sits on the shores of a beautiful lake, nestled between the Andes. A cute and expensive town that we did not spend much time in. We had dinner and drove a few Km out of town to a campsite where we slept. Mark and Anabelle had bought a tent the same day I had met them, it was a 2 man. We squeezed into it that night (which I am still suprised even worked), head - to - feet formation we slept uncomfortably. We awoke in the morning, again early and drove up into the andes to do a short but very steep climb up a mountain there which offered a great view of the entire surrounding area. Once descended we carried on down the road and arrived at another campsite, on the shores of another lake for that night. The tent was tremendously hot and I ended up sleeping outside, on the sand beach, in my sleeping bag, on my thermarest, with a low and bright moon reflecting off the waters of Lago Traful. It was hard to close my eyes and fall asleep when offered such an awesome view. I woke up exhausted from the last few days lack of sleep and late nights talking and stumbling over guitar. I slept for the entire drive back to Bariloche and spent all of that same day relaxing. The next day, Mark and Anabelle went on a three day trekk outside of Bariloche which I turned down the offer to because I felt like it was time to move on. I myself spent the morning of that day rockclimbing. It was a private lesson, my Instructors name was Cora, being in Argentina I couldn´t help but hope for a beautiful climbing babe helping me up the rock face. When I arrived late, I was sad to see an old worn out woman with a harness by the roadside, impatiently smoking. When I approached her I smelt a mix of body odour and cigarette smoke. Her face was lined with wrinkles that increased tenfold when she smiled, errupted all over her face. This was not the babe I had been hoping for. At any rate Cora was a very nice woman and assisted me greatly with completeing challenges which I, at first, struggled with. We spent the 3 hours together talking of climbing, ourselves and Argentina as a country. It was an great morning that left me absolutely spent. My entire body ached, mainly my hands (which now had scratches all over them) and my feet (which we crammed into shoes that were too small for 3 hours, which Cora said is normal for climbers). I made my way back to Bariloche, satisfied with the 3 hours I had been given.
I think many tourists, at least I do anyway, always look for the best price for the longest duration of time when looking for activities to do. I had spent the last 2 stops always looking for full day excursions or multi day excursions. More time doing something does not mean it will be better. Some things are better left short and sweet (expecially if you are a beginner), then if you like what you tried, try it again, and again and again, for longer periods of time. I was constantly looking for full days although in hindsight, I am glad that the climbing was only 3 hours because, in all honesty, my muscles would not have lasted another minute. Likewise for horsebackriding. After only 2 or 3 hours of poor riding on my part my genitals and ass hurt more than I could explain. I has happy to get off that damn horse when I did. That being said I will readily get back on the next when the opportunity arrises once more! So does this have some higher meaning, should I learn something from this? Maybe we should not always relate experience to time. A longer trip is not necissarily a better one, a 3 day trek may not be better than a 2 day trek. So is not more about what we do with the time given, than the amount of time itself?
Later that afternoon I took the next available bus down to El Bolson, only 2 hours further south of Bariloche. El Bolson is a smaller town, full of hippies and farms all around the surrounding area.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Argentina Heat - Mendoza - January 7th - 10th
The bus from Santiago to Mendoza was extremely scenic! Driving directly across the Andes and into Argentina. Surrounded by mountains, driving through valleys, next to rivers and springs. The border crossing was unfortunately uneccissarily long, being full of cars and buses all taking their holiday time. On the bus I met an English couple who befriended me once they found out I could speak the language. They seemed like cool people so we agreed to stick together and find a hostel. I stayed in Mendoza for three days, three long broiling hot days. So hot that you do not feel like moving, or doing anything of any sort. It was a pity because there is a lot of options of things to do and activities around Mendoza.
Mendoza is one of the main wine capitals of the world, surrounding the entire city is a plate plane of grassland. All over the province there are vineyards everywhere. Bottles of wine commonly can be found for around 4 or 5 dollars. Naturally thats what we drank the most of. Aside from wine tours, there is rock climbing, mountaineering, horsebackriding, and much more. Heat and prices were quite discouraging factors in me not ending up doing anything. I sat around mainly, plucking away on the cheap guitar I had bought in Santiago, forcing myself to learn, as well as reading. I had little interest in seeing the city either, I had spent the last 2 weeks or so in Urban city areas and I was getting thoroughly tired of it. That being said, everything I saw of Mendoza was very nice, a very calm city with trees lining both sides of all the streets everywhere you go. It provides lots of shade walking, although it hardly abates the 40 degrees that is constantly a factor. There are hardly ever clouds to shade the sun so as soon as the sun is slightly in the sky it is hot. This means that even at 10 or 11 AM the strength of the sun resembles that of 2PM. It stays steady like this until around 6 PM and still provides light up until around 9. It is a long day of sunlight and the days would only get longer as I went further south, which was the plan.
What I did do in Mendoza was a short horse excursion through some hills on the outskirts of the Andes mountains. We were told at the hostel that it included winetasting although they must have been referring to the wine included with dinner, which was an endless supply. The horseride was educational and exciting though rather anticlimactic. I was blessed with a horse that didn´t really feel like moving at any rapid speed, nothing I could do would motivate it. Me obviously having a lack of experience and the horse obviously realizing that cared not about what I did or how I did it. At any rate it was still fun and made me want to do more. The evening was finished off with an ¨ASADO¨ or BBQ. Bread, fresh tomato salad wine and an endless supply of sausage and steak. Argentina also being famous for its beef made me quite excited to try the asado here. The beef was absolutely stelar, perfectly done, the best I have ever had. Each plate the pieces consecutively got lacker and rarer. The wine came in liter bottle and we, a group of 8 total, must have drank about 4 or 5 of these bottles by the end of the night. We were all stuffed, yet continued to eat, not having the willpower to pass up the wonderful meat. Backed by near full moon, wandering horses, and a drunk, guitar-playing gaucho, we all were rather satisfied by the time we returned. Luckily for our sack it was not the gaucho that drove us back to the city.
After the next couple of days I got rather uneasy and wanting to move-on. The couple and I left on the same day althoug they onto Buenos Aires to eventually take a plane down to Ushuaia the southern-most city in the world, and I south 18 hours or so by bus to San Carlos de Bariloche, one of the northern points of the large Patagonia plateau encompassing the southern third of the country. We both agreed that would stay in touch and try and meet up again when I arrived in Ushuaia.
I was looking forward to Bariloche. Sitting on the southern shores of Lago Nahuel Huapi it would naturally be much cooler. As well being surrounded by the older national park in Argentina, by the same name as the lake, I would have a release from the endless urban attack that had taken of last few weeks of my trip. It would only get more and more rural as I went further and further south!
Mendoza is one of the main wine capitals of the world, surrounding the entire city is a plate plane of grassland. All over the province there are vineyards everywhere. Bottles of wine commonly can be found for around 4 or 5 dollars. Naturally thats what we drank the most of. Aside from wine tours, there is rock climbing, mountaineering, horsebackriding, and much more. Heat and prices were quite discouraging factors in me not ending up doing anything. I sat around mainly, plucking away on the cheap guitar I had bought in Santiago, forcing myself to learn, as well as reading. I had little interest in seeing the city either, I had spent the last 2 weeks or so in Urban city areas and I was getting thoroughly tired of it. That being said, everything I saw of Mendoza was very nice, a very calm city with trees lining both sides of all the streets everywhere you go. It provides lots of shade walking, although it hardly abates the 40 degrees that is constantly a factor. There are hardly ever clouds to shade the sun so as soon as the sun is slightly in the sky it is hot. This means that even at 10 or 11 AM the strength of the sun resembles that of 2PM. It stays steady like this until around 6 PM and still provides light up until around 9. It is a long day of sunlight and the days would only get longer as I went further south, which was the plan.
What I did do in Mendoza was a short horse excursion through some hills on the outskirts of the Andes mountains. We were told at the hostel that it included winetasting although they must have been referring to the wine included with dinner, which was an endless supply. The horseride was educational and exciting though rather anticlimactic. I was blessed with a horse that didn´t really feel like moving at any rapid speed, nothing I could do would motivate it. Me obviously having a lack of experience and the horse obviously realizing that cared not about what I did or how I did it. At any rate it was still fun and made me want to do more. The evening was finished off with an ¨ASADO¨ or BBQ. Bread, fresh tomato salad wine and an endless supply of sausage and steak. Argentina also being famous for its beef made me quite excited to try the asado here. The beef was absolutely stelar, perfectly done, the best I have ever had. Each plate the pieces consecutively got lacker and rarer. The wine came in liter bottle and we, a group of 8 total, must have drank about 4 or 5 of these bottles by the end of the night. We were all stuffed, yet continued to eat, not having the willpower to pass up the wonderful meat. Backed by near full moon, wandering horses, and a drunk, guitar-playing gaucho, we all were rather satisfied by the time we returned. Luckily for our sack it was not the gaucho that drove us back to the city.
After the next couple of days I got rather uneasy and wanting to move-on. The couple and I left on the same day althoug they onto Buenos Aires to eventually take a plane down to Ushuaia the southern-most city in the world, and I south 18 hours or so by bus to San Carlos de Bariloche, one of the northern points of the large Patagonia plateau encompassing the southern third of the country. We both agreed that would stay in touch and try and meet up again when I arrived in Ushuaia.
I was looking forward to Bariloche. Sitting on the southern shores of Lago Nahuel Huapi it would naturally be much cooler. As well being surrounded by the older national park in Argentina, by the same name as the lake, I would have a release from the endless urban attack that had taken of last few weeks of my trip. It would only get more and more rural as I went further and further south!
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Valparaiso and New Years - December 30th - January 6th
I arrived in Valparaiso early on the 30th and started looking for a hostel where I knew one of my friends from Santiago was staying, I also knew there was space to stay there if need be, which was practically impossible to find in the centre at during these festivities. I was hoping I would be able to meet up with my friend that I met in San Pedro although that never worked out and I ended up staying in a hostel the entire stay which was disappointing.
Valparaiso was a busstling city at this time. Lots of people in the street, lots of street venders, people selling fruits and vegetables on the side of the road and around the markets. Large plazas and tall buildings fill the center although as soon as you leave this area and gradually climb up the different hill, away from the ocean, these tall buildings dissapear and become small houses of varrying colours and designs. Walking through the streets one is often surrounded by walls covered in murals, street art or plain grafiti ranging in quality from absolute scribble to detailed, skilled grafiti. It is a very exciting city. Shaped like an Amphiteatre around part of the bay the cities 300,000 inhabitants or so occupy over 20 different hills, all with different names, like neighbourhoods. Valparaiso has one of the major ports of the country of Chile as well as a sizeable naval ports. The enormous bay is constantly filled with cargo ships waiting to unload or upload and military ships. Two other cities share this bay with Valparaiso, these being Viña del Mar and Concón. Concón being fairly smaller, Viña on the other hand is right next to Valpo and is of a similar size. The two cities have basically merged from expansion, although travelling from to the other is a different world of society. Viña is a beach town, its waters not being as extremely affected by the ships. In Viña there is more space, nicer cars, large, expensive resort buildings right on the ocean, next to the beach. This is how I would imagine some beach cities in California. Incomparable with Valpo, a bohemian city of art and expression, less clean, and more poverty, one of the poorest cities in Chile matter of factly. Through this lack of work it has forced the people to create their own work through creativity. The majority of the populace are into art, music, theatre or all of the above. It is a very neat atmsphere, especially now, during preparation for the New Year. Valpo is said to have one of the best New Years fireworks and festivities worldwide! Little did I know the 4 days before the big event, the city was filled with spectacular events of music, dance and acrobats occupying the plazas on a planned schedule, all day! Of these shows I experienced little, simply because of my late arrival to the place. The city pretty much just parties for a week straight several days before and after new years. All Night. But the best party, when all the people come, is on new years eve, some dont even rents a room, but just stay up until their bus the next morning. The night would not even be that expensive if you did this. There are so many people that you can not even get into bars or clubs where you would blow all of your money. Every once in a while there will be a bottle shop open, just selling alcohol, here is where the crowds flock to and buy bottles of liquor for only a few dollars.
The night started calmly. I met with some other friends from Santiago and we went out for dinner then quickly climbed the mountain to reserve a good spot to see the fireworks from above, if you leave it too late all the streets are full. We waited, holding our ground for several hours, making friends all the while. As it got dark and we kept drinking I lost track of time... The countdown was skattered and started by the crowd at first without confidence then built up. The finale was celebrated with an immense amount of champagne shaken into the sky and dropping down on us like rain, my hair was soaked after about 30 seconds of this. The fireworks began and the wet, drunk, people began to cheer. All around the bay fireworks of similar colour and fashion could be seen. Kilometers away on the other side at Concón they were small bulbs of light. There must have been almost a dozen spots around the bay that shot the firworks. It was fantastic, the noise, the colour, everybody so happy, every once in a while a late champagne bottle would be opened and pour down on us again, at this point we thought nothing of it. After about 30 minutes of this, the fireworks ended, everyone satisfied and the people filed out to begin the nights events. Now after midnight we regrouped at the hostel and went down the the main plaza where there was a stage set up with a live band. The amount of people was insane! Everywhere you went the streets were full. The large plaza was packed including all the streets around it. Everyone dancing, drinking and loving one another. Throughout the entire night not once did I see any outcry, fights, police brutality, everyone I made eye contact smiled, would shake my hand or give me a hug and say "Feliz Nueva Año!" It was a very happy moment, where hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world, of all ages, were having fun, extreme fun in a public environment without creating disturbance. Once the live music ended, people filed out of the plaza to the next place to occupy. Waling through the streets, people buying food, relieving themselves in alcoves or just in the middle of the street, drunkards passed out on the ground contentedly.
The rest of the night was long, although relatively uneventful, just hanging out with friends, talking, walking around, yet it was lots of fun and always something different. Always people playing music, rejoicing.
After a few hours of sleep I was awoken to sounds of raining glass bottles breaking on the ground, the sun was just barely up, the noise endless. Sirens in the distance became louder as the got closer. Crowds of people partying all night were being to create disturbance and not want to leave the plaza that they were occupying. Armoured jeeps and vehicles surrounded the area, riot police took over control. Blocking thrown missiles with their sheilds they slowly broke up the offenders, some forced to leave, others forced in the back of a truck and taken away. Eventually tier gas was thrown all over the area, one of the windows to our room smashed, tier gas began to enter the room, awakening the rest of my companions. Burning sinuses and throat forced us out of the room. These feelings lingered for the next several days when walking around certain areas of the city. Experiencing rebellion to that extent before my eyes was something new. It added a final touch to the entire New Years Experience here in Valpo.
I spent the next few days afterwards just relaxing with new friends. Eventually we went back to Santiago together for another few days again just relaxing by the pool side, sorting out what to do next. I decided I would head to Mendoza, Argentina. There, near the city sat the highest mountain in the Americas. Aconcagua, its name, 6900 and something meters, its height. Did I want to climb it, of course I did, or something similar.
Valparaiso was a busstling city at this time. Lots of people in the street, lots of street venders, people selling fruits and vegetables on the side of the road and around the markets. Large plazas and tall buildings fill the center although as soon as you leave this area and gradually climb up the different hill, away from the ocean, these tall buildings dissapear and become small houses of varrying colours and designs. Walking through the streets one is often surrounded by walls covered in murals, street art or plain grafiti ranging in quality from absolute scribble to detailed, skilled grafiti. It is a very exciting city. Shaped like an Amphiteatre around part of the bay the cities 300,000 inhabitants or so occupy over 20 different hills, all with different names, like neighbourhoods. Valparaiso has one of the major ports of the country of Chile as well as a sizeable naval ports. The enormous bay is constantly filled with cargo ships waiting to unload or upload and military ships. Two other cities share this bay with Valparaiso, these being Viña del Mar and Concón. Concón being fairly smaller, Viña on the other hand is right next to Valpo and is of a similar size. The two cities have basically merged from expansion, although travelling from to the other is a different world of society. Viña is a beach town, its waters not being as extremely affected by the ships. In Viña there is more space, nicer cars, large, expensive resort buildings right on the ocean, next to the beach. This is how I would imagine some beach cities in California. Incomparable with Valpo, a bohemian city of art and expression, less clean, and more poverty, one of the poorest cities in Chile matter of factly. Through this lack of work it has forced the people to create their own work through creativity. The majority of the populace are into art, music, theatre or all of the above. It is a very neat atmsphere, especially now, during preparation for the New Year. Valpo is said to have one of the best New Years fireworks and festivities worldwide! Little did I know the 4 days before the big event, the city was filled with spectacular events of music, dance and acrobats occupying the plazas on a planned schedule, all day! Of these shows I experienced little, simply because of my late arrival to the place. The city pretty much just parties for a week straight several days before and after new years. All Night. But the best party, when all the people come, is on new years eve, some dont even rents a room, but just stay up until their bus the next morning. The night would not even be that expensive if you did this. There are so many people that you can not even get into bars or clubs where you would blow all of your money. Every once in a while there will be a bottle shop open, just selling alcohol, here is where the crowds flock to and buy bottles of liquor for only a few dollars.
The night started calmly. I met with some other friends from Santiago and we went out for dinner then quickly climbed the mountain to reserve a good spot to see the fireworks from above, if you leave it too late all the streets are full. We waited, holding our ground for several hours, making friends all the while. As it got dark and we kept drinking I lost track of time... The countdown was skattered and started by the crowd at first without confidence then built up. The finale was celebrated with an immense amount of champagne shaken into the sky and dropping down on us like rain, my hair was soaked after about 30 seconds of this. The fireworks began and the wet, drunk, people began to cheer. All around the bay fireworks of similar colour and fashion could be seen. Kilometers away on the other side at Concón they were small bulbs of light. There must have been almost a dozen spots around the bay that shot the firworks. It was fantastic, the noise, the colour, everybody so happy, every once in a while a late champagne bottle would be opened and pour down on us again, at this point we thought nothing of it. After about 30 minutes of this, the fireworks ended, everyone satisfied and the people filed out to begin the nights events. Now after midnight we regrouped at the hostel and went down the the main plaza where there was a stage set up with a live band. The amount of people was insane! Everywhere you went the streets were full. The large plaza was packed including all the streets around it. Everyone dancing, drinking and loving one another. Throughout the entire night not once did I see any outcry, fights, police brutality, everyone I made eye contact smiled, would shake my hand or give me a hug and say "Feliz Nueva Año!" It was a very happy moment, where hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world, of all ages, were having fun, extreme fun in a public environment without creating disturbance. Once the live music ended, people filed out of the plaza to the next place to occupy. Waling through the streets, people buying food, relieving themselves in alcoves or just in the middle of the street, drunkards passed out on the ground contentedly.
The rest of the night was long, although relatively uneventful, just hanging out with friends, talking, walking around, yet it was lots of fun and always something different. Always people playing music, rejoicing.
After a few hours of sleep I was awoken to sounds of raining glass bottles breaking on the ground, the sun was just barely up, the noise endless. Sirens in the distance became louder as the got closer. Crowds of people partying all night were being to create disturbance and not want to leave the plaza that they were occupying. Armoured jeeps and vehicles surrounded the area, riot police took over control. Blocking thrown missiles with their sheilds they slowly broke up the offenders, some forced to leave, others forced in the back of a truck and taken away. Eventually tier gas was thrown all over the area, one of the windows to our room smashed, tier gas began to enter the room, awakening the rest of my companions. Burning sinuses and throat forced us out of the room. These feelings lingered for the next several days when walking around certain areas of the city. Experiencing rebellion to that extent before my eyes was something new. It added a final touch to the entire New Years Experience here in Valpo.
I spent the next few days afterwards just relaxing with new friends. Eventually we went back to Santiago together for another few days again just relaxing by the pool side, sorting out what to do next. I decided I would head to Mendoza, Argentina. There, near the city sat the highest mountain in the Americas. Aconcagua, its name, 6900 and something meters, its height. Did I want to climb it, of course I did, or something similar.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Santiago December 27th - 30th
The 23 hour bus ride did not turn out nearly as bad as I was fearing, shorter bus rides in Bolivia went much worse. The bus through Chile was smooth and steady, save random stops along the way on the side of the road for who knows what reasons why? All the windows of the bus at night get covered with curtains, I would just imagine the bus driver scurrying out of the bus to run off into the darkness to relieve him of some inner demon.
Anyway arriving in Santiago was a wild change from the last capital I had visited. It felt like I was coming back home practically, at least in comparison to Bolivia. The Golden Arches were spotted on several occasions (McDonalds) along with other American fast food chains. Large apartment buildings were everywhere, along with other massive shopping centers and supermarkets (which are actually organized in an aisle fashion, with signs!) I was definitely back in civilization. Talking to people made me expect, to a degree, the change and height in development in Santiago compared to most South American cities, although I was still suprised. Here in Santiago I did a lot of walking and achieved nothing in the 2 days I stayed there before heading out to Valparaiso, the best New years party in South America and arguably the world. On top of all this discouraged walking it was swealteringly hot! I would say at the very least 30 degrees each day, closer to 40 in the afternoons. Santiais a large city of around 6 million people, although there is much more space, everything is further spread out, side walks are larger, stores are larger. For these 6 million people, the city has around 100 Universities, a local told me. He also told me that they are all shit and none of them are of any international standard or fame, yet most of them are quite expensive, comparing to some schools Canada for price. Whether this is completely true, I cannot be sure.
So I spent all the days, wandering the streets, and all the nights partying with friends from the hostel and going out to clubs. It was a fun social experience that I had not done much of so far for lack of interest. It was also a good warm-up for the coming new year in Valpo where it would be a thousand times bigger and better.
Anyway arriving in Santiago was a wild change from the last capital I had visited. It felt like I was coming back home practically, at least in comparison to Bolivia. The Golden Arches were spotted on several occasions (McDonalds) along with other American fast food chains. Large apartment buildings were everywhere, along with other massive shopping centers and supermarkets (which are actually organized in an aisle fashion, with signs!) I was definitely back in civilization. Talking to people made me expect, to a degree, the change and height in development in Santiago compared to most South American cities, although I was still suprised. Here in Santiago I did a lot of walking and achieved nothing in the 2 days I stayed there before heading out to Valparaiso, the best New years party in South America and arguably the world. On top of all this discouraged walking it was swealteringly hot! I would say at the very least 30 degrees each day, closer to 40 in the afternoons. Santiais a large city of around 6 million people, although there is much more space, everything is further spread out, side walks are larger, stores are larger. For these 6 million people, the city has around 100 Universities, a local told me. He also told me that they are all shit and none of them are of any international standard or fame, yet most of them are quite expensive, comparing to some schools Canada for price. Whether this is completely true, I cannot be sure.
So I spent all the days, wandering the streets, and all the nights partying with friends from the hostel and going out to clubs. It was a fun social experience that I had not done much of so far for lack of interest. It was also a good warm-up for the coming new year in Valpo where it would be a thousand times bigger and better.
We´re not in Bolivia anymore - December 24th - 26th
Getting through customs and the Border Police was a slow process, mainly because of the sheer amount of people that were crossing at the same spot and same time from the end of the salt flats tour. Although the restrictions on what you bring into Chile were definitely more defined than when getting into Bolivia which was literally just walking into a building, getting a stamp and going in. In Chile they are far more restrictive on what you can bring in, in terms of food or products from other countries.
Getting into San Pedro de Atacama was quite different. A small town of maybe half a dozen thousand inhabitants sitting in the middle of the desert, filled with tourists. The only things that could be found here were restaurants, tour agencies and hostels/hotels. San Pedro has been my most expensive stop throughout my entire trip so far. I flew through money, inexplicably. Narrow, dirt roads made up the entire town. Bikes were the most common means of transportation, tourists being able to rent them from just about any business for a relatively cheap price. This is a good way of getting around the town and a cheaper option to seeing some of the sights which lie only a few kilometers outside of the town. Thomas and I decided this made the most sense and would allow us to make the most of the day. The first day in San Pedro we did very little and both agreed that neither of us wanted to do anything on Christmas day. San Pedro is said to have a great observatory areas situated in the desert and is one of the best places to have crisp clear sightings of stars. We both decided it would be good to try to do this while we were here. Unfortunately we were blessed with unusual weather both nights that there were arranged groups and the tours were immediately cancelled from an over-abundance of clouds. The town is also surrounded by many natural beauties of lagoons, valleys, geysers and volcanoes. One could spend several days visiting it all, although, coming from Bolivia where we were trapped in a vehicle and visiting lagoons, geysers, and mountains. We were in no hurry to go and visit more of the same thing. La Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley) is the major site in San Pedro and is a mere 15 Km out of town. La Valle de la Muerte (Death Valley) is another valley where one can go sandboarding and is only 5 Km or so away. We rented the bikes for the day and visited nearby ruins, and both of the Valleys, timing the Moon Valley for the sunset, when it is best. We set out just after 12, the sun was piercingly strong, always present, beading down on our backs, making the day´s excercise even more difficult. In the driest dessert biking over soft sand that simply fell away under the weight of the bike, making it very difficult or even impossible at times. The jagged mountains and cliff faces were made of bubbly rock that has dried out so much that it simply crumbles to the touch. Winding our way further through these rock crags towards the death Valley we began to lose motivation at actually reaching the destination, under that heat, turning back to town for a break and water sounded like a better idea, we also were not expecting the death valley to look much different than what we were biking through. We pushed on, thinking ¨we have come this far¨, and upon arrival we´re exposed to a much different sight than before. Hot dessert dunes rose up hundreds of meters off in the far distance, surrounded and speckled in between these dunes and rising out of the sands like living creatures were more of these crags and long spines of rock that rose and fell for hundreds of meters in length, resembling greatly the spines or backs of some ancient dinosaur. We left the Valley quite satisfied and glad that we pushed on. Most of the ride back to town was on the highway, a perfectly paved highway with guard rails and 2 meter wide shoulders. Crisp, clean lines defined the boundaries and median of the road, we we´re definitely not in Bolivia anymore... Even walking through San Pedro, a small dessert towns, new, quality vehicles would often be seen driving about the dirt roads. This was an enormous shock to me at first. We took a short break out of the sun in the hostel, re-hydrated and headed back out in a different direction to catch the famed sunset in the Moon Valley. The ride there was excruciatingly difficult and slow because of the immense amount of head-wind, which even made descent a struggle. Not to mention that by this point we had been several hours riding now and our asses were beginning to feel the south american bike quality. Finally, upon arrival, we were rewarded with the impressive moon valley. Following a tiny path through a crevice with rock walls and stagmites rising up steeply on both sides was fun. Ducking through a labyrinthe of caves and darkness, and coming to the realization that it was not rock, but clear crystal that surrounded us, on all sides, stained brown from years of dirt settling and clinging to its surface, becoming one. The textures of the rock made it feel as though we had travelled to a different planet. The erosion looked like it was from years of water sliding down in thin lines down the face, leaving singular lines of erosion all over the surface, almost like water dripping through sand. We biked on deeper into the valley, more climbing, powerful gusts of wind and sand that attacked at our bare skin and nearly blowing us off the road. The scenery throughout the valley was amazing, different at every turn, with different looking rocks, or random enormous sand dunes or walls. After we had gone to the furthest point and began to turn back, rushing to get back to the viewpoint for the sunset, the wind at our backs now, the going was quite easy and effortless. The sky was filled with clouds so we we´re not expecting much of a sunset anyhow, but the going was not over yet. Not long after turning back my ass started feeling more and more of the bumps, looking down, the back tire was completely flat. Standing on the side of the road, we spent nearly the next hour trying to work out how to fix this tire with the faulty equipment that we had been blessed with. Eventually it was completed and we carried on riding back, not expecting to see any beautiful colours in the sky, as we came around a bend Thomas, who was leading, exclaimed ¨fuckin´ell!¨ as we were blasted with orange, purple and red difracted through the fog directly behind a distant mountain, defining its shape. An unexpected treat it was. The ride back to town was amazingly easy, with a large part of it being exilaratingly dangerous for the down-hill pitch.
As soon as we got back we went out for a Christmas dinner that was crazy overpriced and only ¨good¨ lacking the AMAZING that I wanted to expect for that price. The day of biking and the bottle of wine with dinner left us absolutely exausted and we rushed back to the hostel to pass out. The next day, Christmas day, I awoke early and went to purchase bacon, eggs, bread, and peanut butter, (the first time I had seen it anywhere!!) It was a homey breakfast. I spent the whole day talking with family and relaxing. That evening Thomas and I were invited out with a few others staying in the hostel, all Chileans. One was already drunk upon going out and was an absolute mess, providing much entertainment and the bill, including food and four bottles of wine. No one objected against his drunken generosity. Here in the group was a girl that happened to live in Valparaiso, where I was planning on going for New Years. She said I could definitely stay with her, which would save me likely around 100 dollars on accomdation over 2 or 3 nights, the price being so heavily inflated for the famous event. You never know what the world will throw at you next.
The next day, Boxing day, Thomas and I embarked on the 23 hour bus ride that would take us to Santiago, far south, the capital of Chile, and hailed to be the most developped city in South America. Who knows what the big city and new years would have in store, I was full of anticipation.
Getting into San Pedro de Atacama was quite different. A small town of maybe half a dozen thousand inhabitants sitting in the middle of the desert, filled with tourists. The only things that could be found here were restaurants, tour agencies and hostels/hotels. San Pedro has been my most expensive stop throughout my entire trip so far. I flew through money, inexplicably. Narrow, dirt roads made up the entire town. Bikes were the most common means of transportation, tourists being able to rent them from just about any business for a relatively cheap price. This is a good way of getting around the town and a cheaper option to seeing some of the sights which lie only a few kilometers outside of the town. Thomas and I decided this made the most sense and would allow us to make the most of the day. The first day in San Pedro we did very little and both agreed that neither of us wanted to do anything on Christmas day. San Pedro is said to have a great observatory areas situated in the desert and is one of the best places to have crisp clear sightings of stars. We both decided it would be good to try to do this while we were here. Unfortunately we were blessed with unusual weather both nights that there were arranged groups and the tours were immediately cancelled from an over-abundance of clouds. The town is also surrounded by many natural beauties of lagoons, valleys, geysers and volcanoes. One could spend several days visiting it all, although, coming from Bolivia where we were trapped in a vehicle and visiting lagoons, geysers, and mountains. We were in no hurry to go and visit more of the same thing. La Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley) is the major site in San Pedro and is a mere 15 Km out of town. La Valle de la Muerte (Death Valley) is another valley where one can go sandboarding and is only 5 Km or so away. We rented the bikes for the day and visited nearby ruins, and both of the Valleys, timing the Moon Valley for the sunset, when it is best. We set out just after 12, the sun was piercingly strong, always present, beading down on our backs, making the day´s excercise even more difficult. In the driest dessert biking over soft sand that simply fell away under the weight of the bike, making it very difficult or even impossible at times. The jagged mountains and cliff faces were made of bubbly rock that has dried out so much that it simply crumbles to the touch. Winding our way further through these rock crags towards the death Valley we began to lose motivation at actually reaching the destination, under that heat, turning back to town for a break and water sounded like a better idea, we also were not expecting the death valley to look much different than what we were biking through. We pushed on, thinking ¨we have come this far¨, and upon arrival we´re exposed to a much different sight than before. Hot dessert dunes rose up hundreds of meters off in the far distance, surrounded and speckled in between these dunes and rising out of the sands like living creatures were more of these crags and long spines of rock that rose and fell for hundreds of meters in length, resembling greatly the spines or backs of some ancient dinosaur. We left the Valley quite satisfied and glad that we pushed on. Most of the ride back to town was on the highway, a perfectly paved highway with guard rails and 2 meter wide shoulders. Crisp, clean lines defined the boundaries and median of the road, we we´re definitely not in Bolivia anymore... Even walking through San Pedro, a small dessert towns, new, quality vehicles would often be seen driving about the dirt roads. This was an enormous shock to me at first. We took a short break out of the sun in the hostel, re-hydrated and headed back out in a different direction to catch the famed sunset in the Moon Valley. The ride there was excruciatingly difficult and slow because of the immense amount of head-wind, which even made descent a struggle. Not to mention that by this point we had been several hours riding now and our asses were beginning to feel the south american bike quality. Finally, upon arrival, we were rewarded with the impressive moon valley. Following a tiny path through a crevice with rock walls and stagmites rising up steeply on both sides was fun. Ducking through a labyrinthe of caves and darkness, and coming to the realization that it was not rock, but clear crystal that surrounded us, on all sides, stained brown from years of dirt settling and clinging to its surface, becoming one. The textures of the rock made it feel as though we had travelled to a different planet. The erosion looked like it was from years of water sliding down in thin lines down the face, leaving singular lines of erosion all over the surface, almost like water dripping through sand. We biked on deeper into the valley, more climbing, powerful gusts of wind and sand that attacked at our bare skin and nearly blowing us off the road. The scenery throughout the valley was amazing, different at every turn, with different looking rocks, or random enormous sand dunes or walls. After we had gone to the furthest point and began to turn back, rushing to get back to the viewpoint for the sunset, the wind at our backs now, the going was quite easy and effortless. The sky was filled with clouds so we we´re not expecting much of a sunset anyhow, but the going was not over yet. Not long after turning back my ass started feeling more and more of the bumps, looking down, the back tire was completely flat. Standing on the side of the road, we spent nearly the next hour trying to work out how to fix this tire with the faulty equipment that we had been blessed with. Eventually it was completed and we carried on riding back, not expecting to see any beautiful colours in the sky, as we came around a bend Thomas, who was leading, exclaimed ¨fuckin´ell!¨ as we were blasted with orange, purple and red difracted through the fog directly behind a distant mountain, defining its shape. An unexpected treat it was. The ride back to town was amazingly easy, with a large part of it being exilaratingly dangerous for the down-hill pitch.
As soon as we got back we went out for a Christmas dinner that was crazy overpriced and only ¨good¨ lacking the AMAZING that I wanted to expect for that price. The day of biking and the bottle of wine with dinner left us absolutely exausted and we rushed back to the hostel to pass out. The next day, Christmas day, I awoke early and went to purchase bacon, eggs, bread, and peanut butter, (the first time I had seen it anywhere!!) It was a homey breakfast. I spent the whole day talking with family and relaxing. That evening Thomas and I were invited out with a few others staying in the hostel, all Chileans. One was already drunk upon going out and was an absolute mess, providing much entertainment and the bill, including food and four bottles of wine. No one objected against his drunken generosity. Here in the group was a girl that happened to live in Valparaiso, where I was planning on going for New Years. She said I could definitely stay with her, which would save me likely around 100 dollars on accomdation over 2 or 3 nights, the price being so heavily inflated for the famous event. You never know what the world will throw at you next.
The next day, Boxing day, Thomas and I embarked on the 23 hour bus ride that would take us to Santiago, far south, the capital of Chile, and hailed to be the most developped city in South America. Who knows what the big city and new years would have in store, I was full of anticipation.
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