Canada to Patagonia at a Worrying Age

…is the Perito Moreno Glacier at the full moon.

Most people go in the day and there are a lot of them.  Our van had 3 locals, two Colombians, two French and us.  The driver (not a mate of the other bloke) stopped at an offy on the way having announced he had a cool box.  That was a night off the ale ruined.

We got to the glacier by some back road route and didn’t have to pay to get in the park – Adriano just nodded at some bloke in a hut.

First sight of the glacier is a bit ‘wow’, but the moon was still low in the sky on this clear night.  Once we got to it, however, the full majesty began to reveal itself.  You start off in a high car park and think it’s wonderful.  Then you hear the first thunderclap as a piece the size of a car falls off.  Then you get to the first viewing platform and wonder how the hell can I get a picture of this and crack open your first can of Quilmes.  Then you get to the second platform, the moonlight getting ever brighter, and you get the full panorama of the thing reflecting off the lake.

Eventually you walk the 400m to the closest platform and think ‘God, it’s big’.  Then you crack open your second Quilmes while the hippies pass round the wine (they’d left their bongos in the van, thankfully).  Then Adriano comes down and says, “Would you like to touch the ice?”  He didn’t need to ask me twice, although Cath was unsure until he uttered the magic words “It’s not allowed”

You get  to the glacier like this.  Get over a fence designed to stop such naughtiness.  Then get over a barbed wire fence, expressly there to prevent such madness.  Then walk through a forest and past a sign saying ‘Danger’.  A pictogram indicates a bloke having his head caved in by falling ice and another sign saying go no further.  Carry on through the forest and you hit the rock, the glacier only metres away.  You can hear the cracks of falling ice as you swiftly run to the face.  Then you hear them receding as you swiftly run away again when you realise those noises are incredibly close and that those white tumbling things are not exactly snowballs.

We got off the ice and sat on some rock near the ice filled lake and all chilled out and got spiritual.  But it wasn’t a third world beach and I wasn’t wearing spandex trousers.  So that’s OK.  We were there for quite some time and eventually I put a bit of Cafe del Mar on the MD.  Bloody great.  The moon was well high now and we were half a dozen people under the awesome sight of a (moving) towering glacier.  Astonishing.  Goosebumps as I write this…

So, forget the day trip.  If you come here, time it for a full moon and hope for a clear night.  I’ve got the tour guide’s email address.  Thanks Adriano.  I’ve made the solemn (stupid?) decision not to go in daylight as I want to remember what happened last night as my impression of the glacier.  Maybe I’ll come back one day.

Chill out time in the van on the way back, with a lot of fun (offer of a party – declined), no sleep and Redemption Song on the stereo, so that will do.  Home at 3.30am.  When will I get to sleep at night on this part of the trip?

PS – Poster advertising the trip was designed by a certain M Parry.  Evidence of the Welsh tribes of Patagonia, of which more in future.

Later read this in the Rough Guide…

“Once at the glacier do not stray from the boardwalks; as notices tell you, 32 people were killed by ice falls between 1968 and 1988, either being hit by lethal ricocheting chunks of ice or swept of the rocks into the freezing waters by the subsequent water surge.”  Oops.

Boots’n’all have changed the format of the site and I’m trying to get used to it.  Two main problems are more comments in moderation (including one of my own) and smaller pictures.  Please bear with.  On the positive side, the stats section has returned and indicates over 1500 viewers and and over 13,000 page views.  Hurray.  And welcome Stuart to the happy band.  How’s Phil?  Is he too busy researching penguin-wing taco dippers.  They were my idea Phil (although Fez might claim some intellectual property rights).

(Or the Baguette Towers, as my companion refers to them.) 

Frankly a day out at this wonderful place was yet another unmissable sight on this tour of unmissable and awe-inspiring sights.  However, it could not be done simply.

You will have gathered I’m currently travelling with someone called Cath who has taken on the role of my travel agent.  She researches everything from accommodation to tours to restaurants and had researched the companies who could take us to this granite mountain range.  In particular we we concerned to get comfortable seats in the bus as it is a 300km round trip.  This meant we waited for ages while the bloke in the chosen tour company answered his phone, hired a car, answered his other phone, made a few calls etc…

We got on the bus last at 0730 (a lie in) to find we were in the povo seats at the back where there should have been a luggage rack.  I mentioned this to our guide at at the coffee stop and he sort of shrugged.  Half an hour later we were sitting on the side of the road as the bus broke down.  We waited for an hour for a replacement, but it was fine as we had a brilliant view of the mountains and guanacos and eagles for company (and later saw a condor and many flamingos – it really is a twitcher’s paradise).

Chuffed with the replacement bus as we could see out of the window and had some space.  It even meant the guides awful jokes were acceptable, although his best (unwitting) line was when he was telling us of the flight to Patagonia by Butch Cassidy and the Sunshine Band.  From now on that is the only way I can refer to the gunslingers.  By then we were late and had to bolt lunch, but again fine as we got to visit an iceberg on the beach of the lake and eat some glacier.

I still felt that we were being a bit rushed and was then confused when the tour seemed to end abruptly and we were waiting around.  Our previously over friendly guide by now would not make eye contact.  This was because we were to pick up a family of five and their holiday luggage leaving no room once again.  Ooh, I was vexed.  After two hours on unsealed roads at great speed my coccyx had been shattered and the poor guide got it in the neck.  When I tried to get back on the bus he was in my seat and I had the front one.  Good.  Meant he got his tip.

When we got back to the hostel there was no light in the bathroom.  Just thought I’d mention that.  Anyway, it was all great and a change from the far south of Patagonia which is flat, windswept and desolate.  Like Lincolnshire but without the poisonous agri-chemicals.

Now in Argentina, which is great, as I knew it would be.  Unfortunately I didn’t get in until 6 this morning having gone to see the Miss El Calafate beauty contest at the local school disco.  So today is a day of rest until a hoped for moonlit tour of the Perito Moreno Glacier tonight.

The days are long here and my body clock has got rather confused.  Essentially, I thought it was around 6pm and it was 9.15pm.  By the time me and Cath picked up Matt (Spurs fan, Mick) we were all starving.

Got to the chosen restaurant and it was packed, so had to wait for a table and ran into 3 year old Max – a buddy from the penguin trip.  Finally got to eat after 11 and we were on the second bottle of wine…  Can you imagine going home when we finally got to pay at 1245?  We´d spotted a pub which promised live music so sauntered in at a pound apiece.

They were playing a bit of punky type music and then the band came on.  Yes.  Thrash Metal in Patagonia!  They seemed to take a lot of breaks so I asked for the usual bands of the DJ (Debbie are you out there?).  Eventually got the Ramones.  As the only gringos in there we attracted a certain amount of attention and by 3am we had a lot of new (very young) buddies who thought English was cool, although playing The Beatles in our honour was going a bit far.  It was gone four when we headed home and there are some funny pictures (yes, I kept hold of my new camera).  One day I’ll be able to post them again.  Matt (hello Matt) missed his bus the next day.  I nearly missed mine and it was at 1pm.

better version at http://www.flickr.com/photos/28108075@N00/?saved=1

Some stuff since about transport and mountains (you know, the usual), but put this up as didn’t want to forget.  I don’t suppose I really could.

Buggared if I know.  But still, I did get to see some penguins yesterday (many, many penguins – the island smelt like Grandad’s chicken shed). 

After the 5 hour hour boat trip we didn’t want to run back to our ‘hotel’.  (It is a special place.  7 quid a night.  It is 100% 1970s B&B with mismatched, damp-affected wallpaper and faux wood panelling as standard.  Sitcom moment provided when we did get back at midnight and a met a woman in her nightie on the corridor.  My ‘room’ was 4 foot wide and when I coughed Cath next door laughed.  When the bloke the other side of her snored I thought it was she.  Breakfast this morning (I’m not making this up) was stale swiss roll, orange squash and sachets of Nescafe.)

Anyway, so five of us walk into the poshest hotel in Punta Arenas at 10pm and ask to see the menu.  No problem.  We all agree we can eat from it, so ask for a table.  ‘There aren’t any’.  What about those three.  ‘They’re reserved.’  Please etc.  Eventually… ‘OK.  they’re not reserved, but the kitchen shuts at 10.30.’  We’ll order quick.  We do.  That’ll be two salmon, two conger and some meat.  5 minutes later – no salmon, only conger.  OK.  5 mins on.  No conger only salmon.  That’s fine.  5 mins on.  We only have 2 conger and 1 salmon, but we do have fetuccine.  Just give us that and we’ll share out when we get it.  The veg soup never arrived.  It was all good though.

Currently trying to leave Punta Arenas.  It would be easier to leave Alcatraz.  Still, hope springs eternal and all that.  God knows where I’ll be tomorrow.  Suspect it will still be here, but I’m (now) hoping it’ll be 250km north.

Song will have to be End of The World by REM, although I’ve a feeling there’s a better ‘end of world’ song somewhere.  Anyway I’ve achieved the title of the blog, even if I can’t seem to upload any photos of penguins to prove it.

PS Insurance companies reacting as expected.  They’ve offered £500 for a  £2000 machine.  Please pop any anger (if you have any) into the freezer for a week or so.  It will be needed.

Yesterday the sun came out again and I shared a bottle of Pisco with some people at the Compass del Sur Hostel. The place deserves a mention because it is so relaxed and friendly. Apparently didn’t get to bed til about 3am. Good.

Sun still out today and I managed to get a flight to Punta Arenas tomorrow. A bit dear, but it’s an escape and the world looks a better place. Managed to get up the volcano (Osorno) in the picture today and it was absolutely fantastic. Cable car took us the final way up to the glacier at the top. Funny to touch ice after all this time (other than in a Pisco). The sun was shining and it was glorious. The last time the volcano erupted was in 1835 and Charles Darwin was there. A nearby volcano did erupt in 1961, so I felt it owed us a show today, but it didn’t bother. Lazy arse. An neither have there been any decent earth tremors – a swizz, as I was promised them in Chile.

So, into the cold we go. Really chuffed by the response to the last post by the way. Could be fun if the insurance cuts up rough as I expect. I have a plan and you’re all part of it. More later.

On the way down the mountain, the wind got up so I put on the headphones and switched the player to shuffle. First (perfect) track was Knowledge of Beauty by Dexy’s. Today’s song, although I think it may be a repeat. If so it could be Nazi Punks etc. by the Dead Kennedys as I saw a BMX punk wearing that t-shirt today.

Or is it just the sins of this one catching me up?

No, as Lou Reed says in Street Hassle, it´s called bad luck. (See if you can find a copy of that one, Rob.)

Well, I´ve now exhausted all avenues of hope for a coastal trip down to Southern Patagonia. Even if they fix the boat by Monday, which they expect to, it can`t leave until the marine authorities have checked it later in the week. It`s the only one to be blocked this season. Explaining I`ve come half way around the world specifically to do it, does no good. Am I ready to come home? No not really. But my plans seem to be changing hourly and it is getting tiresome. I`m ignoring the insurance swine for the weekend and had a good night with a mad Chileno last night. And there is a casino here…

I`m in the lovely town of Peurto Varas in a very nice hostal with friendly people and I`ve just watched United overcome the mighty Fulham. But what of the defence. 6 goals in two games? And then WBA beat Blackburn.

Here´s a picture of one of the local volcanoes…

On Chilenos, they have a refreshing view on personal space. The general view seems to be that of “I will place myself anywhere at any time, no matter how it infringes on anyone else`s space or comfort”. They`re not being rude, it`s just how it is. This includes queues as well as public transport. I`m slowly getting used to it and I’ve started pushing in where necessary, but as some German girl pointed out today, I must be British because it`s ‘Excuse me this’ and ‘Pardon me that’. Which got a hearty murmur of approval in the hostel.

The other thing about this area is that it is very German (so Tim would like it). They colonised the place first apparently and as an example of their influence today is Kuchen Day – German pies are piled up in the main square. I was hoping they were going to start flinging them à la that place in Spain with the tomatoes. But being German they lined up to buy tickets to sample the things. Not much anarchy around here, I’m afraid. I even spoke to a local who loves British music. When I asked what kind he replied Genesis and Yes. No hope for the youth in this world.

On colonisation, by the way, this area was held by the local Mapuche indians for centuries before a period of time in the 1880s known in the local guides as the ‘Pacification’. What? I’m sure the Poles would have reacted much better had they known they were being ‘pacified’ at the start of WWII.

So that’s where I’m up to. The sun shone through for a brief hour to interrupt the drizzle earlier, so all’s well with the world. I think I’ve no choice but to head for Argentina soon and once I’ve sampled the freezing delights of Patagonia I plan to head back north to the sunshine and, eventually, the bright lights of Buenos Aires and a Boca Juniors game or two.

As it’s the weekend I don’t expect too many comments, but thanks Aunty Mary and Cousin Mick and all other contributors. It really helps if things aren’t going too well to discover other people’s thoughts at the end of a wire. By the way, I see what you mean about Chester. 5-0 at Carlisle. A copper once threatened to throw me out at that ground (at a Chester game) for swearing. Maybe that was the sin. I can’t think of anything worse I’ve ever done…

Am in the most expensive internet cafe in the world, so away I go. Love to all.

Urgent email from the company that was going to take me on the next leg of my trip…

Considered Passengers:

Navimag.
Ferries.

FYI there is one ferry a week. I was booked onto Monday´s. I think Chile is now at an end…

Still, at least I wasn`t on Mike`s tip in the Wolverhampton race. Thank Heaven`s for small mercies.

…an opportunity for personal growth and increased self awareness? Er.

This from Lovely Rita (Meter Maid?) in Kelowna for Chinese New Year.

My Wish for You in 2006

May 2006 be one of the best years of your life!!!

It`s hidden on `Doing Nothing in Particular`

There have been loads of helpful messages, so thank you all.

As it happens I`ve become a lot more philosophical in the last 24 hours. I`ve landed in the lovely town of Valdivia in the Lake District and scored a hotel with a balcony river view for a couple of nights. Last night I went out and had a slap up meal like they do in the Beano and buggar the expense. The weather is astonishing for this far south (35C yesterday), the women in the exceptionally friendly Tourist Information confirming it was very unusual.

I`m no longer toying with the idea of flying back to cold Britain with it`s bird flu and the sodding insurance companies can hang themselves (there`s a faint hope that a compromise may be in the air – but don`t count your chickens – are there any chickens left?).

So the trip is starting to be back on track. The only pain is the constant reminder of wi-fi access at every cafe, station and hotel in all too sophisticated Chile. Oh, and United`s ability to lose to Blackburn when Arse, Looneypool and Chelski don`t win.

Still, perhaps Funky Days Are Here Again as Cornershop may put it – today`s track along with Won`t Get Fooled Again by The Who

This town is the gateway to Patagonia, by the way. Almost fulfilled the title of the blog…

PS – Good to see the man I least like in footy getting sacked. But they`ve replaced him with the man I dislike next on the list!