Patagonia

We drove and drove and drove, battling strong winds that made us swerve on the road, passing nandus, guanacos and a couple of zorro colorados.

Armadillo

A relative of the Llama and Alpaca, the Guanaco is much larger

A solitary rhea

Zorro Colorado, a little fox

We pulled into El Chalten, a hikers paradise, and looked for the famous spires of Mt. Fitzroy. Sadly they were shrouded in clouds and a biting wind was blowing. We rewarded ourselves for arduous driving 700 km in two days with, what else? Burgers and Beer. The next two days we hiked and took picture after picture of the glaciers and peaks of the walking wonderland. 

Wow what a view

I actually climbed into a drain for this shot

The road to El Calafate and our errant campers summoned, and we packed up and drove the next day through the town to one of the most stunning things I’ve ever witnessed: Perito Moreno Glacier. Walking the boardwalk and looking at the massive expanse of blue ice, stretching up and away to the mountains, and hearing the cracks every now and then of ice moving, is an experience I find hard to explain. We had our lunch watching thousands of years of frozen water, and I took up a post watching one particular crack, the crack I was sure would fall, so I could catch it on camera. I must have stood there for two hours, shivering, my fingers numb, waiting, watching. Finally, I gave up and was heading up to warmth and bathrooms when I heard a crack. I immediately took up my post again and stayed there for another hour. It was now close to closing time, and the crowds were thinning out. We were almost ready to go and my aunt brought me a cup of hot chocolate to boost my heat levels. 2 minutes later, the ice began to crack, and in its full majestic descent, I caught it all. 

The sheer magnitude

Here it starts

The next day Mom and I were kitted out for the next adventure: we were going trekking on the dinosaur itself. The two of us arrived at the ferry dock 20 minutes early and the ferry captain came and introduced himself. He invited us to sit in the control room with him. We happily accepted and the journey began. Our group had about 12 people in it and 2 guides. We hooked up with crampons and set out for the hike of a lifetime. Walking on that sheer majesty is so thrilling, just thinking that this piece of ice is ancient, and that I have the opportunity to set foot on it was extremely powerful. The color of both the ice and the mini streams just continued to dazzle me. I was so happy that it was something I could share with my mom, and one more memory, in countless amazing memories that South America has and continues to give me. Motoring back to the shore, one of the guides netted a huge chunk of ice out of the water and explained that all the workers at the park have a chunk in their freezer and that this specific piece was for a party later. They even chiseled off a chunk for our freezer! 

Fancy a dip?

We arrived back happy, tired and hungry so back to El Calafate we went, 90 km away, and celebrated over a parrilla asado, a sheep grilled over charcoal for hours, accompanied by sausage, chicken, beef and morcilla, blood sausage.

Trying to beat the weather to Ushuaia, we drove like a bat out of hell to Rio Gallegos, on the coast, only stopping to hide from the strong wind that might tip us over. In Rio Gallegos we happily forked over 40 pesos pp for hot showers and a barbeque pit. Mom and Heidi washed clothes by hand and I maimed myself.
No wait, listen. I was baking whole sweet potatoes in the oven and I was attempting to check if they were ready. They were too hot to feel, so I got a knife and poked one and it was soft and then I poked the other one and it exploded. You read that right, it exploded with a force so violent it gave me second degree burns and plastered the walls, ceiling, and myself with hot sweet potato. Needless to say I screamed as one is wont to do when something that is 300F degrees is suddenly put on your skin. Dad took me to the pharmacy and we got some gauze and Burnshield and bandaged my fingers up. After that bit of excitement I was glad I washed my hair before the explosion!

We drove that afternoon hard and fast, crossing the border with ease into Chile, me garnering sympathy from the friendly customs agent for my fingers, and made it aboard the last ferry of the evening, crossing the famous Straits of Magellan, to Tierra del Fuego. The next days saw us finally arriving in Ushuaia, the end of the world.

It was terribly cold and I pitied the sailors on their boats. We took our photos with the sign, browsed the handicraft markets and inquired on tickets to Antarctica. At 7000 US dollars per person, we put the kibosh on that idea. After nearly a week there we had to start heading to Punta Arenas to drop off Heidi and Stefan at the airport so we bid Ushuaia and its allure goodbye, making a pit stop at a dog sledding place,

Who doesn't love puppies, especially huskies

 we pressed on to Rio Grande, where Mom suddenly fell ill. Within a few hours we were all violently sick and ended up stuck at the Chilean border, sleeping for two days trying to rid ourselves of it. There were fevers, hot and cold flashes, dizziness and mucous in our lungs, throats and noses. With minuscule energy we somehow managed to get through the border, to a doctor who couldn’t help us and sold us $400 dollars worth of useless medicine and advice. We booked into a hotel that cost us even more money and tried to just stay in bed and get better for two days. Dad was the worst with a deep mucous cough and headaches. After the two days were up, we drove in a zombified state to Punta Arenas and got an Airbnb that was again expensive, but worth it. A huge house with heating, washing machine and a massive gas Aga. We spent 5 days recovering, watching movies and celebrating Heidi’s birthday before putting them on the plane home and hauling up to our next destination: Puerto Deseado, the only place in Argentina for tourists to see rockhopper penguins.