Day: 181
I don´t really feel like writing to much today. Here are some pictures of a day spent biking a dirt road with Alessandro, Ellie, and a pair of British girls. We saw Sea lions, had a badass beach picnic complete with wine that I had carried on my back for 20 kilometers. The best part of my day was seeing the diagram of Sea Lion sex.
Day: 180
Finally getting off the bus around 2pm, I staggered into the beach town of Puerto Madryn, Argentina. Alessandro, Ellie and I quickly wandered the town (thankful to not be sitting) and found a little hostel. We made lunch and decided on an afternoon of no great activity, just recovery time. You´d be surprised what that much time on a bus will do to you.
The day went on mellowly (not sure if thats a word), with a few cups of coffee, a few bottles of wine and a dinner at a seafood place a couple blocks from bed.
I tried, but the today I really felt my creativity waning.
Day:179
As the title explains, today isn´t going to be exceptionally interesting. By 11am the three of us were on a bus out of Chile into Rio Gallagos, Argentina. A few border crossings and we made it there a little before 6pm.
With the Lonely Planet, and my own powers of observation quickly realizing there was nothing to do here, we bought more tickets to continue north the 1000 miles to Puerto Madryn. A resort beach town on the atlantic in central Argentina. Still classified as Patagonia though.
Our second bus didn´t leave foor a couple of hours so we found a little cafe for some coffees, a bottle of wine and a couple plates of papas fritas (fries).
The bus ride, other than the excitement of first class-like seats and the entertainment of You, Me, and Dupree, was lame (the movie too, was lame. I give no recommendation of it). Listened to a lot of music and Eleanor and I both finally took sleeping tablets she had to pass out around 2am.
Day: 178
The priority of today was, of course, to see some penguins. The tours didn´t leave until later on in the evening so Alex, Eleanor and I started our day with a late start (much due to the late night from the day before) then it was off to the gigantic graveyard just outside of town which houses some huge musoleums as well as graves stacked atop each other for the lower classes of Chilien society.
Bored of death, we went for a cafe con leche and passed a slow afternoon in a cafe on the main street anticipating our evening among flightless birds.
Our tour guide (who was actually just a taxi driver) picked us up at our hotel and took the long road to get us out to the penguin colony, about an hour away. Eleanor and I (Alex had declined, saying he had seen penguins before) had extreme fun taunting these little guys and learning how to speak penguin (which is more difficult than one might expect.). Our “tour” was far too quick, it being the actual first nice afternoon (weather wise) we had in a long time, but before long we were on our way back to the hostel.
Back at the hostel (later):
“I just checked my e-mail and realized it´s Austrailia day!” Eleanor (being an Aussie) said to me.
I figured it was some big doings down under from the excitement on her face and asked “Well, how does one celebrate Austrailia day?”
“Normally we just get drunk and grill something…” Me, being a man who is always willing to indulge in the culture of others, was happy to be deputized as an honorary Aussie for the evening and forced to drink excessive amounts of booze.
Sometime later I asked what the day celebrated, and to my amazement she actually didn´t know. She figured it was important and we just decided to figure it out later, seeing as we were already deep in celebration.
Day: 177
Getting into Punta Arenas in the early afternoon with Alex and Eleanor there wasn’t much to do. We found the soonest bus ticket to get back into Argentina which was the morning of the day after tomorrow. The only real draw of Punta Arenas is it’s nearby Penguin colony and since we had a couple of days we planned that for tomorrow and set out to find lunch.
Lunch took place at a small Chilien dive bar, with many rounds of beer, lots of meat and many more beers it was soon time for a siesta. The afternoon flew by.
By early evening we were just sobering up, we decided on a walk and dinner(primarly to find a couple of pictures).
“Want to get drunk?” she asked me around 9pm.
“Sure”
It wasn’t long before we had bought a bottle of Stoli and were blowing the rest of the night in a vodka induced haze.
So far this town is treating me well.
Day: 176
So without the time to get everything cleaned up and dried last night, I took it upon myself to suggest I stay in Pueto Natales to catch up on things and start fresh tomorrow.
This was a spectacular idea, until about 5:30pm, when I had done 4 days of blogging, bought a bus ticket for tomorrow to Punta Arenas, had clean clothes, drank three coffees, ate lunch and took a walk with Eleanor, showered, repacked my bag which was still slightly damp, and took a mean-ass 2 hour afternoon nap then woke up around 5:30 completely bored. I walked this tiny town at least a dozen time hoping something new and interesting would spring up, but to no avail. Can’t wait for the bus at 9:30 tomorrow. Kind of weird to be excited about a bus…
At least I get to see penguins soon!
Day: 175
With the combined effort of the entire Cape Horn storm front and enough water to raise the Ark out of those obscure Russian mountains The Weather has crashed down on our Hero. Armed only with his Boy Scout wits, his Olympiad puddle dodging skills, and the second worst tent ever made (the first being the old army tent I was force to sleep in through a East Coast hurricane for 10 days in 1993);our hero awakens to the once soothing sound of rain on his tent. The sound is no longer soothing as a small stream has took up residence next to his head whilst he slept. Trying to decide his next play against this formidable Nemesis, he decides to duck out of his tent for a quick piss in the woods.
Slightly relieved, even before the impending doom that is his fate, he looks to the sky and curses in futility.
“Fuck”
Choices must be made quickly; make for the water or the road. The road is longer but won’t inflict the pain upon our shrinking funds, the water is a weapon of the enemy but has a boat and hot coffee… Where to turn? With no Choose Your Adventure readers to make decisions for him, he turns to page 109 on his own, rolls his drenched-muddy-tent, throws his last remaining dry clothes in a shopping bag, slings it all on his back, and sets off to use his puddle dodging skills to there best. His shoes last 30 minutes before the trail has become a river, his sweater makes it 15 more before it is thoroughly soaked from dripping bushes that slapped their wet leaves against him with a vengeance.
Then there’s a woman; every story has a woman. On the trail ahead she is taking part in the battle against the same enemy as the Hero. Quickly joining forces, moral improves. Stories of their own struggles are shared, bring relief that each one is not alone. The battle is far from over; shoes are overflowing with liquid, squishing with every movement; bones are chilled with the strongest weapon of The Weather, sliding down slopes covered in mud, and the backs are aching with the weight extra water that is saturating everything they own.
But alas, on the horizon the dock is in sight. only a short ways to go and victory would be ours. sort of.
Soon the Hero’s were greeted with a warm cup of coffee and a welcome only due those returning from vicious battle. Yet it was only a reprieve, and they knew it, the day would involve a struggle to fight with other champions for a seat on the only boat away from this horrendous power. Then spend the rest of the day on a bus filled with similarly soaked victims, breathing that stench of people who haven’t bathed in days and are now soaked to the bone, shivering, in want of being anywhere but where they are.
Our Hero has made another narrow escape this day, possibly because the Weather did not realize the weakness of the pinkish-white flesh of our Hero to the hole in the ozone layer and the combined effort of the Andean sun, thus never unleashing it’s ultimate weapon on this rugged adventurer. The day ends as it should, with a glass of wine, a hot meal and a shower.
Day: 174
I find rain on a tent one of the most soothing sounds in the world to sleep to. The only problem is that that in the morning everything is soaking wet well you pack your bag. I was up earlier than anyone else in the campground (I too found this amazing), was packed and on the trail by 7:30am.
By 9:30am I was at the next trailhead/campground, where you set up camp and do a 11 mile day hike up into Valle del Frances (French Valley) to see what is supposedly the most amazing view of the entire park. My wet tent was up in a matter of minutes and I was crouched over my backpack rummaging around for breakfast, when I glance up at someone walking by. I stare for a second and said.
“Jasper”
He blinked, paused, and said:
“Wow, last I checked up on you , you were in Costa Rica”
Neither of us seemed to take it as exceptionally weird the we set up camp within 20 ft of each other, with no plans to, after not seeing each other since the airport in Istanbul, 10,000 miles away last April.
A side note, For those of you new to “Mom Says…”: Jasper and I meant in the South of Turkey last March, Traveled for about a week together along with another fellow name Akbar, and he was present for the highly controversial “Crockery Heaving” incident of 06′.
I meandered over to his site with my breakfast, shared a camping pan full of tea and caught up on the last 10 months of each others travels.
I still wanted to get my hike in (even through the clouds), and he was taking an easy day. Sometime after 11am I set off, promising to come sit under his tarp and share dinner around his camp stove (bonus for me! Hot food!).
I hike for a few hours and near the top I meant a couple other friends from a few days ago, Alejandro (The Socialist-Italian) and Amanda (German), they were headed down and seeing as we would all be back in Puerto Natales tomorrow night we made plans to meet up then. It wasn’t quite the same surprise bumping into them, I knew they were somewhere on the trail and figured I would find them somewhere. I am surely becoming popular, dinner invites two nights in a row!
I made it to the summit (sweating) for the “best” views of Torres del Paine, saw nothing. I decided to give it an hour to see if the weather would clear, I wrote this entry out, ate some chocolate, aired out my smelly feet, then finally gave it up and set off, disgruntled, down the mountain again. The clouds were moving in and by the time I made it back to camp the deluge had started. Dinner was spent with three of us huddled under a small tarp around a camp stove trying to decide the best use of our ingredients: crackers, salami, powdered split pea soup mix, powdered milk, dried tortellini, a can of tuna, some raisins, and a few tea bags. At least there would be plenty of water.
Day: 173
Round trip bus ticket from Puerto Natales to Torres del Paine National Park: 12,000 pesos ($24)
Entrance fee to what is hailed as South America’s greatest national park: 15,000 pesos ($30)
Catamaran ride across the lake to the trailhead: 11,000 pesos ($22)
Three days of tent and sleeping bag rental: 15,000 pesos ($30)
Camping site: 3,500 pesos ($7)
10 mile hike: Free
Not being able to see the pride of the park, The Torres del Paine towers, because of the weather: Priceless…
Crap. It has started to rain.
Day: 172
Moving onwards towards a new town to see another National Park, I was up early to make it to Puerto Natales; the jumping off point for gearing up to tackle Torres del Paine National Park. After a quick 7 hour bus ride, which included 2 hours in Chilian customs, I found a hostel which quickly set me up for the upcoming trek. I rented a tent and sleeping bag, emptied most of the contents of my backpack into my daypack and a shopping bag combo to be left in his garage (this bag included my laptop and about $3000 worth of lenses, cross your fingers for me); stuff I didn’t need while hiking, and was ready for the bus to pick me up early the next morning to move into the park.
I set off to find some dinner, take a walk, and stock up on some food for the next three days.
This day passed without incident; it was grey and cold.
