Its Wednesday the 25th of February. About 8 weeks since I left Denver in the middle of the night (or so it seemed) to begin my South American adventure.
Im not ready to review the trip or discuss my bitter-sweet emotional state, but perhaps its a good time to reflect on my position... as I sit here in Santiago.
I feel lucky.
Not many people can say they left their job for 2 months to pursue a dream in South America. Even fewer could say they were in the best company imaginable for the trip, that the sun shone bright for all the bits that counted and they made it to the end without significant loss or breakage of all-important "stuff".
And Im pretty sure that I stand alone when I say I did it all with the love and support of a husband who selflessly worked his butt off at home, to afford me this opportunity.
Ok, so maybe I was ready to address those bitter-sweet emotions. How can it not be sad to say goodbye to people and places that have changed your life... at the same time not to be excited to return to my soul mate?
PS: That shirtless guy posing on the left... I have no idea who he is. But apparently his overwhelming need to be in the photo lead him to believe we wouldn't mind!
...and it was definitely rumbling and smoking the whole time!
We have spent the last 2 days in Pucon, Chile. A gorgeous little tourist town, complete with many of my favorite South American things; patisserie, outdoor activities, laundromat and fine weather. What can I say...Im easily pleased!
Mt Villarica towers over the town. Perfectly cone shaped with a hearty helping of old and new snow near the top. For 45,000 Chilean Pesos (about $65 US) a tour company will pick you up at the campsite (at dark-o´clock), provide rucksack, crampons, jacket, crampons, trousers with tear-proof butt, plastic butt guard, gloves, ice axe and helmet. And once you have added lunch, water, camera and dry clothes to the bag, its time drive an hour or so to the start point.
In all fairness I do have to admit that the first part of the climb is available by chair lift sometimes. I took the opportunity to save my legs (which were still asleep) from an hour of uphill slog, since the fact it was operating was obviously a sign from God.
The walk wasnt that bad. Yes, there were times I thought I was going to die if I fell, but all in all, the 4 hours of steep ascent and slippery ice/snow was quite peaceful. The chocolate I felt compelled to eat at every water stop probably helped too.
Once at the top the view was to die for... so worth the walk. For miles in every direction were Chilean hills, snow capped mountains and lakes. Visibility was perfect and the sun that threatened to scorch us coming up, was a welcome addition.
As if all this wasnt entertainment enough, Rachel and I had just ventured to the inner edge of the crater when the volcano began to grumble thunderously and more smoke puffed out. In unison we screamed and ran towards the out edge of the crater, despite just discussing how tired our legs were. In the event of iminent erruption, we obviously felt we could out run a river of lava!!! All those who watched us, were in hysterics. Apparently every 5 minutes or so this happens.
In fact, Mt Villarica hasnt errupted since 1984. And while there was little to no warning of the last erruption, there is now serious seismic activity monitoring equipment on the job. None-the-less, the crater we ate lunch around drops about 60m before hitting lava and up until about 2 years ago this lava was completely visible from our view point, as it spat molten rock against the side of the crater. All this is made even more surreal by breathing the sulfur tasting and acidic gas as it blows around the top. The whole experience was breathtaking!
The adrenalin part of the volcano climbing experience was yet to come though. A four hour hike up was reduced to a one and a half hour downhill challenge. So... the fastest and (?)safest way to descend is apparently by something I would describe as Butt-Luge. Into grooves carved in ice fields you sit. Ice axe in hand (for braking), butt on plastic butt guard to decrease friction (increase speed) and heart in mouth. I was not the only one to lose control from time to time... but I believe I was the only one to come off a corner land backwards and belly-down, still racing out of control down an ice field, towards rocks and a large drop. Since this was the appropriate time to stab the ice axe into the ice and bring yourself to a stop, I did just that... almost! In reality, my ice axe did stick into the ice, but it then ripped out of my hands and I was left barrelling down a mountain without any brakes at all. Oh no!
Since I am now here, safely typing from an internet cafe, you can assume I didnt lose my life on Mt Villarica. Or even break an arm. Actually I managed to fling my arms and legs around sufficiently to slow myself before the others at the bottom helped stop me.
As you can imagine, I did sleep well last night (after several glasses of wine) and today Im exploring town before we head out to Santiago tomorrow. Its a long, 800km, drive... and its the last day of my overland adventure. My flight home from Santiago is in just 3 days.
I am filled with bittersweet feelings and so many memories. Sad to leave a group people who were crazy strangers to me just 8 weeks ago and a continent that has brought endless adventure, sights and sounds.
Very happy to be coming home... to a wonderful husband and best friend, who I have missed so much.
Ok, so technically we are not blood relatives. But today, after a sting of emails, days and months apart, and shot in the dark, my friend Justine and I spent the day together in Bariloche, Argentina.
What can I say... its a small world and a good one at that!
For those of you who dont know our connection, here is the short version:
Four and half years ago, when Osman worked with Justine´s mom on Nantucket, a plan was hatched to go halves in a puppy deal. Justines family bred their golden retriever and that´s how Marley and his sister came to be. And how I spent so much time at the Paradis residence, that I could almost consider myself a foster child!
Getting back to Bariloche... We met for tea and chocolate mousse this morning at the famous Mamuschka chocolate shop. Then followed it with a chair lift excursion for a view over and around the lake. Dinner was at The Map Room, which apparently was a favorite for both of us (yes, Im aware I just got into town 2 days ago and shouldnt probably have a favorite restaurant yet, but I do).
I left Justine perusing the spanish books at a local bookstore/cafe. Yep, she speaks quite good Spanish (Im envious) and my hat goes off to her for appearing to be quite at home in a foreign country, with new friends and further plans to travel independently before starting Vassar in the Fall.
Have fun in Puerto Madryn Justine. Maybe we´ll run into each other in a Texas airport next week, on the way home! Either way, keep in touch. I miss you already!
Somewhere along Andes, north of Ushuaia and south of Bariloche, lies a sleepy, unspoiled town by the name of El Chalten. A place where the word supermercado (supermarket) is, in my opinion, used very loosely, and where jagged peaks dwarf it on all sides. I believe we are actually inside Los Glaciares National Park.
Yesterday, from here, I dragged myself up possibly the most stunning trail I have seen yet. Views to die for every half hour or so and a trail that almost promised nothing less! We (6 of us) did this 9 hour hike in just over 7.5 hours and returned the hostel quite triumphant, with visions of a large steak dinner to follow. After all, it was the 3rd all day hike this week and none of us are what I would describe as endurance hikers... even before the vino tinto!
And that rocky mound just below the snowy peaks... was where we were heading!
End of the trail! Cold and windy, but time for lunch.
I'm not sure the pics could ever capture the steepness of the rocky climb... 500m in 1 hour...or the gale-force winds or even the fine snow and rain that pelted us on and off for about 4 of those hours. I didnt manage to capture Danie getting blown off a small bridge into a black bog, or the way we constantly stopped to layer on and layer off and I missed the opportunity to photograph our small group gourging themselves on various Argentinian snacks while tucked under a rock at the top - because I was too engaged in shoveling food into myself as fast as I could!
Dinner was everything we imagined it to be... if we had imagined that Argentinians really like to serve raw meat and are a little insulted if asked for the steak to be at least warm in the middle! Nothing a microbrewery and extra large piece of pie couldn't fix anyway. And I was not alone when I thought yesterday was one of the best days yet...
If you are reading this blog and weren't on the trip with me, you are probably all wondering what really filled our days on the truck... those long driving days, all that time spent with people I just met this year...
Funny you should ask!
I've heard it said that people living together in isolated situations (I.E. Antarctica, a boat, small rural village) tend to celebrate every little occasion. And develop an unusual affinity for costume parties (or "dressing up"/"fancy dress" as we say in NZ). Well, we did too!
You have seen pics of Rachel's Birthday. The R Party.
Here is what happens when Australia Day coincides with Ellie's 20th birthday and a long, 12 hour drive day. As is customary on our trip, the birthday girl gets to choose the theme. Ellie chose to hold a "no clothes" party. And before anyone gets all excited or rushes forth with judgment, it simply means you wear an outfit made of things that are typically not considered clothes.
No-one is naked!!! (Well, not completely anyway)
Claire, Danie and Lou dressed as hula girls... complete with paper-plate "coconut shell" tops and crepe paper "grass" skirts.
Me, in my crepe paper two-tone evening dress... the last time you will ever see me wearing hot pink! (We don't want to ask what Ewan is up to, in the background)
An array of outfits once deemed to be plastic bags, sarongs, Argentinian flags etc
Yep... It was a day to remember. (Although, I'm sure some cant and some don't want to!) Messy!!!
Other days the fun and games revolve around charades, card games, and my personal favorite; Celebrity Heads. (Where the sticker of a name of a famous person/character is put on your forehead and you ask yes or no questions to guess who you are.)
I would guess that with the exception of Reece (ADHD???) everyone become accustomed to early starts, followed almost immediately by falling asleep to the vigorous motion of the truck. So mornings passed pretty quickly.
(Various ways to remain seated/upright while sleeping...)
The long driving days and "bush camp" evenings were really the only time that 21 passengers spent time together as a group. We tended to break into smaller parties once camped in a town or staying in a hostel. For this reason, bush camping is one of my fondest memories.
I think Brendan was glad to be here too.
Then of course there were those random encounters. Events that are memorable for so many reasons. Not losing a limb for instance - Archie!
Meanwhile this local fellow is thinking to himself "why didn't they just drive around it - like we all do?" And the answer is of course... Because that is not manly enough! We need to hack something up, lift a dead weight and suffer in inclement weather to really feel good about ourselves!
Mission accomplished!
So then it's back to re-organizing the "stuff" we have packed, accumulated and deposited in our lockers. And I hear you ask.... Where exactly are these lockers? We haven't yet seen where 23 backpacks might fit in the truck.
Under each seat is a well. Big enough (in most cases) to fit our large backpacks and much more. Out of sight of non-passengers and therefore hidden to the average opportunistic thief, should he come on board. But, for the most part, easily accessible... if your arms and legs are long enough!
For Claire, it's a stretch... and can take a while!
One of only a couple of Glaciers still growing, this one moves down the mountain and into a river, dividing it completely each year. The water then melts a tunnel beneath the glacier and eventually they have what is called rapture. The arch that has been created, and its so much bigger than it appears, will collapse... Sending enormous chunks of ice into the water, resulting in waves, ice bergs and of course that one-of-a-kind noise!
Today was a highlight of South America. We traveled about an hour from our hostel at El Calafate to Moreno Glacier, which turned on the best weather and managed to drop large (house sized or bigger) chunks of itself into the lake as we watched. (Bear in mind the glacier you see is 60m above the water.)
For those that would like to know what a glacier sounds like as it shears off and collapses.... thunder and loud cracking! Ominous!!!
Sometimes I hear about people who claim to have travelled so much recently that they have trouble remembering what country they are in. In the past I found it hard to believe... and quite annoying. And yet, here I am, waking up in Patagonia day after day not quite sure if its Chile or Argentina. A money belt full of different currencies and surrounded by people just as confused as I am!
In the last week we have travelled from Ushuaia (Arg), across Tierra del Fuego (Arg and Chile) towards Torres del Paine Natl Pk (Chile) and back to Argentina and El Calafate, where I write this. We have 3 more nights in Argentina, as far as I can tell, before crossing into Chile and then shortly thereafter, back to Bariloche which is, of course, in Argentina. I end in Santiago Chile in about 17 days. Dont expect my confusion to be any the less between now and then.
But what I really wanted to share was my experiences of the last week.
In brief... there was the "bush camp" at a ghost town...
The Penguin Colony that was NOT on the itinerary... (thanks Brendan and Kristy)
And Torres del Paine National Park...
Torres del Paine National Park is one of those places that takes the breath away. Our first full day there I hiked 5 hours up a rather large ¨hill¨ to take in the view of the Torres (towers).
Kristy's face as she came over the top... the end of the trail and the view making it all worth while.
Spectacular in every sense of the word, but if I hadnt gotten a second wind (extra large endorphin fix) and skipped half the way down (for another 4 hours), I think I may still be there. It was my largest hike ever.
I opted out of the 7 hour hike the second day and instead hired a horse for the afternoon.
Claire bringing up the rear.
Brendan and the girls.
In the land of no helmets, no waivers and guides that dont speak English, I found myself cantering along a green, green river, completely surrounded by high jagged peaks and about 10 really grotty looking (but friendly) dogs. Loved every minute of it!
Day 3 was back to hiking. The Frances Valley trail. The hike that I was most looking forward to, in fact. This one took 10 hours and began way too early.
It was grueling to say the least and the last hour was done at snails pace with aching feet. I was impressed the next day to have NO aching muscles and feet that looked relatively normal too! The view was worth it and here are the pics to prove it!
Bits of glacier or avalanche or something, as it smashed its way down.
