CARNIVAL, life in buenos aires, IGUAZU y misiones de San Ignacio

So in all honesty, there should have been 2 blog entries between this and the last but I guess I just got caught up in life, and in watching TOO MANY episodes of house.
2 weekends ago was the last weekend of carnival. Here in argentina, the festivities are nothing like those in Brazil or even Uruguay, but we did hear of one place on the border with Uruguay that threw down pretty hard, so on Friday 3/5, Sam and I booked it for Retiro and caught a lateish bus. We got to gualeguaychú at around 11, pregamed in the hotel for awhile and then joined the jovenes on the streets for a fun night of dancing to samba beats. We got home at around 4, woke up at 12 to checkout, and then headed to the campsite Solar del Este, which a Argentinean friend had recommended to me. Good man, good recommendation. We set up shop, drunk some H20, and then headed out to the rio to join the early risers/early drinkers. We partied on the beach until we needed to refuel with some lunch, so we trekked into town to buy a cooler, ice, sandwich supplies and beer. We continued lounging and drinking on the beach until we followed the loungers to where it was cooler. Sprinklers cooled our bodies as we rocked out to black eyes peas and guetta for hours.



sprinkers/rave party at the rio, solar del este, gualeguaychú- CARNIVAL


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PARTY ON THE BEACH


Siesta, dinner with our tent neighbors, post-dinner siesta, and then FERRNET AND COLA- the national drink of argentina. Besides maté and vino tinto… apparently it’s just another digestive aid- man, these argentineans are really health conscious? But more like digestive conscious- because of all that meat they consume. Our bus back to Buenos aires was leaving at 11pm the next day so we spent the day nursing our hangovers in the sun, roaming the quaint town of gualeguaychú and drinking maté.

i paid $1 to try on the traditional costumes that the paraders wear for carnival

On Tuesday and Wednesday I had orientation. Nothing really to comment on. All of the information we were given was intelligible, except the immigration proceedings, which are ridiculously tedious. Here they have Facultads. Which is to say that each school (for example, arts and sciences, business etc) has its own building and really functions independently of the other facultads. But there are more facultabs than just business and architecture- for example, arts and sciences is broken down into 4-5 facultads. Because of this (or maybe not) the whole system of finding which classes to take, and signing up for them is actually really confusing/stressful. Some facultads made their class schedules available weeks ago, and others not until the day before classes. Thus, it was impossible to know if your classes schedules conflicted.
On Wednesday I went to an asado at Hostel Puerto Limon in San Telmo (highly recommend!!) that some german girls from my Spanish school had invited me to. The tender to the asado was an asado enthusiast who prided himself on his craft- as he well should. He converted me to the dark side- I can now proudly say I am a fan of mojilla (blood sausage)…but it did take 4 tries. After dinner me and the german girls got trensas, danced salsa, and put back a good number of Quilmes liters before heading home.

getting my trensa at puerto de limon hostel
On Friday I finished classes at B.A Spanish school with two certificates…hmmm, im just rackin’ in the hours. On Saturday, I met up with the german girls in Palermo. We had planned to spend the day shopping and I was going to show them my Saturday-Palermo-shopping route but they told me of a benefit concert for Chile. ARGENTINA ABRAZO A CHILE. The concert was free, provided a food donation so we stopped at the market and then joined the crowds at the bus stop. The concert was really moving, the music was great, and the clima was perfect. The park where the concert took place had an awesome familiarity to central park..the day was incredible overall.


Afterwards I met cara gerstle at her resedencia and we went for margaritas and tacos with another girl from her program. On Sunday I walked san telmo market, as per usual, with sam and anabelle (girl from his program) and a Venezuelan girl that she lives with.
9pm Monday- after 4 hours of history with Ana at 9am, a 2pm stop at retiro to buy my ticket, a 4pm oral placement exam……..i boarded the overnight bus to iguazu. I arrived at around 2pm the following day, and conveniently found that my hostel was located DIRECTLY across from the bus station- its not as bad as it sounds. I happened to meet a really interesting Italian/Spanish couple on the last 2 hours of my ride who helped me plan my entire biketrip through spain…so I guess that was more fruitful than catching up on sleep. i spent the rest of the day bumming around the pueblo of Puerto iguazu until 9ish when my friend Sven said he would be arriving.
Background story on sven: GET READY.
Sven and I hiked in Guatemala together. We both signed up for a 7 day trek with Quetaltrekkers, a popular nonprofit in Xela (where I spent last summer studying Spanish) that takes people on great hikes (volcano taculmuco, lago atílan etc) and the profits go to funding a student hogar and school for street kids. Sven and his travel buddy Ulf (Germans, obviously) intended to travel for a year. Fast forward to last week when I was planning the trip. Most of my BA friends have started classes, and even though I was more than willing to go by myself, I thought id put the message out there that I was looking for someone to go with. “Anyone want to go to iguazu from Monday to Friday,” read the facebook message. Nothing more. And luck have it, I got a response from sven saying that he would be there on wednesday- THE EXACT DAY THAT I WAS PLANNING TO DO THE PARK- NUTS!
Then, another guy named harry responds, saying that HE IS GOING TO BE IN THE PARK ON WEDNESDAY TOO. The background story with harry is that we met in a hostel in bariloche. The truth is, I had arrived in Bariloche sans guidebook, hotel reservations, hiking routes- NOTHING. So after settling down at hotel PUDU and showering for the first time in 36 hrs, I met Harry who is encircled with guidebooks. I asked him if I could have a look, we got to talking, and then happened to do circuito chico together the following day. I ended up getting sick later that day and never seeing/hearing from harry again………until now. So great. Now I have two blond travel partners for Iguazu….all courtesy of facebook.
BUT WAIT, it gets better. Then I look and see that me and harry have one mutual friend- SVEN?!?!? So I write to harry to ask how in the world he knows Sven and, APPARENTLY, they had met in bariloche a couple of days before harry and I had met, and SVEN HAD GIVEN HARRY THE EXACT GUIDEBOOKS THAT HARRY AND I LOOKED AT TOGETHER… that’s creepily cosmic no?
So I bummed around Igauzu waiting for sven and came back to the hostel at around 7 to check word. Im waiting to use the computer and I see this familiar looking blond chick and I try and think how I know her. I realize that we had met in bariloche and had dinner together one night at the Israeli hostel because she was randomly friends with the Israeli girls that I met on the same biketrip I did with Harry. But in that split second, I didn’t have the courage to say anything…so I let it pass. Later I go to my room and there she is- sleeping in the bunkbed below me!??!? She was exiting the bathroom and I go- “uh……do you remember me??!?” Really slick, I know. Anyway, we end up enjoying happy hour together, and later chatting over drinks with his guy who was preparing her a birthday dinner.
Sven joined us later, at which point I was surrounded by 3 BLOND GERMANS…apparently that’s a very infrequent ratio in this part of the world. I don’t doubt it.
The next day, sven and I wake up to go to the falls. Let it be known, Marcopolo inn hostel in Puerto iguazu has the best breakfast spread ive found in all of argentina! The bus was incredibly cheap ($AR 10 ida y vuelta) considering how much they could charge. Park entrance was $85 for foreigners (=$23) and the 12 minute boat ride was 100, but in all honesty, the waterfalls were really incredible.

me at the CATARATAS DE IGUAZU

view from the boat

soaked from the cataratas








My only complaint was the masses of people who made it impossible to simply stare at the cataratas and take in the immensity of their natural wonder. There is a Sheraton on the actual park grounds, and although im not certain if hotel guests can view the park after hours, I would guess they would be allowed. In which case, if I had the money, I would say the intimacy is worth every penny; I imagine the sunrise alone would compensate for just about any price. After the park we napped and went out for a parilla for 2 and I left for san Ignacio on a 9:45 bus the next day.
San igacio is about 4 hours south of Puerto Igauzu and only an hour north of Posadas, where I would be taking my overnight bus to back to Buenos aires. The regional climate is much closer to that of central America, so walking around the hot, red clay pueblo of san Ignacio made me miss El Salvador greatly. The town is small but the bus drops you off right infront of the town travel agency, which employs some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I met a guy from spain on the bus who was also planning to tour the ruins, so I tagged along on his adventure, or his on mine…w/e. He was a 30 year old lawyer from valenica-- At this point with my Spanish, im definitely able to meet and converse for long periods of time with Spanish speakers, but effectively, theyre doing most of the talking- which is strange for me, but at the same time comforting. We toured the ruins for about an hour- it was an incredibly moving pasea.

missiones in san igancio


The craziest thing about these ruins (despite the actual history) is that there is a living, breathing pueblo that completely surrounds one of the most interesting and well-preserved ruins ive ever seen. For example, with Mayan or Aztec temple ruins, you’d never find a city population within 10km…so this was just bizarre- ancient and modern in direct juxtaposition.

in the distance "HOTEL"

MODEL OF THE RUINS from the museum





Afterwards, nearly overrun with heat exhaustion, we stopped for some pizza and beer, and then continued to the opposite side of town to visit the house of Argentinean writer Horacio Quiroga- in part because we heard that his house had an incredible view of the river.


house of horacio
We never found the river, but the walk was pleasant enough. I caught my bus to Posadas and then to Buenos Aires and arrived home at around 1pm. All in all, excellent viaje!

okay. so. i posted the pictures of my trip in the patagonia to the wrong post. the reason is simple. it takes a while to load the pictures...a good hour dedicated to waiting around while pictures load. thus i write the entry separately, and when i have time, i sit around and watch a circle spin round and round until the 5 pictures/cycle load. absentmindedly, i loaded my trip pictures to the wrong post. forgive me.

life back in buenos aires

Ive been back in buenos aires for a little over a week now. I started Spanish clases last Wednesday, but today will mark the start of my first full week. I tested into Spanish intermediate 2, which is probably not an appropriate level to be studying abroad but fuck em. This week, ill do 3 classes of grammar, and additionally, I signed up for a one-on-one thematic intensive about argentinian politics, history, and sociology; I thought it might be better to start hearing more academic words when I can still ask questions about them, rather than when im in a large lecture.
This weekend I had plans to go Gualeguaychú and celebrate carnival in the only place in argentina that celebrates. Gualeguaychú is right on the border with Uruguay, and is about 4-5 hours north of Buenos aires. However, when I woke up on Saturday morning, I heard about the quake in chile and was too preoccupied with safety/too distraught about cate to leave BA. Also, one of my roommates is from Santiago, which is where her son and family live so I was anxious to talk to her and make sure everything was okay…and yes, everything is okay on all ends.
Later that day, I took the 12 (I am slowly mastering the colectivos) to Palermo for some typical soho shopping. It was shocking how much Palermo reminded me of soho on a beautiful spring day. The most beautiful people, lunching in outdoor resturaunts, smoking cigarettes, having parilla at 3 in the afternoon. palermo was complete overrun by Spanish and Italian tourists, but it was better than shopping alongside gringos at the market in san telmo. Sadly, the stock hadn’t changed since the last time I did a Palermo run, so I mostly people watched in plaza Serrano. At 6:30 I had plans to meet Sam, who never showed. While waiting for him, a street band started to rock out in the streets, and I struck up conversation with the girl next to me. She was originally from italy but has lived in Barcelona for 3 years and works for study abroad programs that US universities use. Nate, if youre reading this, do you use STI? She was flying from Barcelona to Santiago for a wedding, but the earthquake struck mid flight ad they were forced to land in Buenos Aires. What a tense flight that must have been? Youre in the middle of atlantic, drunk on bloody marys, when the flight attendent tells you that theres been a earthquake in your country, the airport is destroyed, and you have no chance of getting in touch with your relatives until you land! She did tell me, however, that the news has been exaggerating the damage a bit, at least in Santiago. There’s destruction, but the majority of the devastation is in Concepción, a city that cate and I spent the night in while we were switching WWOOFING farms. Its weird to know that a place that you’ve so recently visited doesn’t look, and will never again look like it did when you saw it. This girl and I ended up going for beers at my favorite bar in Palermo (I still don’t know the name of it).
In other news, last week I spent the majority of my time with some Israeli girls that I met in bariloche. Israelis are by far one of the most quirky groups of people ive encountered. 1. They’re travelling for so long that they rarely spending money on going out to dinner. Thus, they all carry these cosmetic cases of spices that they use when they cook at hostels- film canisters of oregano, and Kinder eggs of salt..its hilarious. 2. They stay in Israeli hostels…as in, the signs are in Spanish and Hebrew. There are literally so many of them, that theres an entire population of Israeli hostels..and they stay Israeli because theyre not written about in the lonely planet in English, but instead on this website that Israelis use when the travel—like tripadvisor or wikitravel in Hebrew. 3. They don’t speak Spanish. Not a word, and they have no interest in learning. If I sound judgmental, its on purpose. 4. (this is one from one story I heard, but I cant imagine that others are any different) one of the days that the girls were staying with me, I walked them to their friends hostel because it was only a couple blocks away from my school. I said, “you have to visit this museum. Its free on wednesdays. Take this colectivo. Etc….” Later that day we meet up at the house, and I say, “did you make it to the museum?”. “well lana, listen to what happened. So after waiting a very long time for the bus, it finally comes and we get on. We say, ‘we want to go to MALBA’….and then HE COMPLETELY FORGOT TO TELL US WHEN TO GET OFF.” Im not sure if im able to communicate the irony of this story. But to me, it typifies this sense of entitlement that Israelis have. He’s a bus driver, who don’t only has to maneuver the streets of Buenos aires, but is also responsible for making sure that people pay the bus fare. So for them to expect him to remember where they need to get off, and to remind them about it was hysterical to me. Don’t worry, I’ve told all of this to their face- so don’t think im bad mouthing them. They know that this is just how Israelis are.
Those are my thoughts for now.



the trio in rio gallegos, argentina.

i opted out of using my hikers backpack and shoved 4 days worth of gear into my daypack. i was a hiking homeless person.

7am. sunrise climb to los torres. UNBEATABLE WEATHER..not a cloud in the sky

the gang minutes before our first and hardest ascent.






the trio

preview of the spacious buses

picture on my 36 hour bus ride from el bolson to el calafate....miles, hours of this kind of scenery

solo traveler shot in el bolson

dinner at the israeli hostel. shuk-shu-kah...eggs and tomato sauce

my group of blond foreigners.

market day in el bolson...wish it would have been a better day

viajes en el sur

Being back in Buenos aires is quite comforting after two weeks of nonstop travel. Dad, you asked me how many miles I logged…so in kilometers (which is what they work with in EVERY OTHER COUNTRY IN THE WORLD) the trip was:
Buenos aires to bariloche (21 hour bus ride): 1,600
Bariloche to el bolson (2 hour bus ride: 121
El bolson to el calafate (36 hour bus ride…every couple of hours we would be offroading for 1-2 hours) 1720
El calafate to Puerto natales, chile (5 hour bus ride): 268
Puerto natales to torres del pine (2 hour bus ride): 92
4 days trekking in Puerto natales:49
Puerto natales to rio Gallegos (7 hour bus ride): 329
Rio gallos to Buenos aires (2 hour plane ride): 2,500
In total… feb 5th to feb 20th→ 6679 kilometers or 4150 miles. NUTS

On the 5th I took a overnight bus from Buenos aires to bariloche. When I got there it was 4 pm, raining, and I had no so much as a guidebook, nor a reservation. I had the address of hostel but because its high season, I didn’t expect to be able to snag a bed. So, with all the optimism one can muster in the rain, I decided to walk from the bus stop, ignorant as to its location in relation to the town… by the time I made it to the first kiosk, I had realized what a bad idea this had been and decided to check my email and possibly convince the woman who worked there to make a very phone calls for me, or atleast tell me where I was in relation to the hostels. By making a decent impression and having a working Spanish vocabulary, my wish was granted and there happened to be one bed left at an irish hostel named PUDU. When I got there it was about 8, happy hour at the hostel bar that only serves local brews. I got chatting with a blond English fellow, who, like me, was in the midst of planning his activites for the next day. All I had remembered from what I read in some guidebook a had glanced at is that there is this bike route that’s great for days trips. Our schmoozing attracted other travelers and by the end of the night, we had a group of seven. The next morning, after an awesome breakfast of irish biscuits and dulce de leche, me and the most blond people (4) I have ever been with at one time head out for the bike rental place.
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After having lived in Miami for 3 years, Ive pretty much lost all winter gear ive ever accumulated and was pretty ill equipped for this venture. Moreover, bariloche had just had a stint of 3 beatiuful weeks, but the weather report said the next WEEK in bariloche would be on and off rainstorms, and that’s exactly how it was while we were biking, all day. It was Sunday, and we heard there was an artisanal market in colonia suiza, so we made that our biking destination. It was a cute market, with lots of bariloche-esc/german/swiss inspired food (Belgian waffles and LOTS OF BEER) + your classic empanadas + this really authentic dish called curanto, which is where they take all these kinds of meats and vegetables and they cook them below heated earth.
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When we finally got back to the bike rental place, I was more than dehydrated. Its hard to recap this story because I was so on the verge of fainting..regardless of how it all went down, it result in the friendship of two Israeli girls. That night, I went back to my hostel and right to bed, fearful that I was coming down with something that would ruin my travels. I didn’t wake up feeling much better but I had a little chat with my immune system, as well as a much needed phone call with my mom, and all seemed a bit bright (even without the light of day). After buying some of bairloches famous chocolate, I happened to run into the Israeli girls who convinced me to stay another night. However, my hostel didn’t have room for me to stay another day so I moved into theirs. I have never been surrounded by so many Israelis…and it was a super interesting experience.
The hostel was an Israeli hostel. As in, the signs were in Spanish and Hebrew! I had heard that a lot of Israelis come here to travel after the army….but the mass was completely overwhelming. At first, I thought I would be ashamed of my lack of religious knowledge/ involvment in the jewish community..but this sentiment took on a very different meaning after spending somtime with them. When I mentioned to sam how i was surprised at how secular all of them seemed, he said that their existence is defined by judiasm, and that their religiosity is almost proven and maintained simply by being Israeli, and living the jewish experience in Israel. This idea made sense to me, but only after meeting them.
That night, the girls wanted to cook a traditional Israeli dish called shuk-shu-kah (don’t kill me on the spelling) which is basically making poached eggs but instead of cooking them in water, you use a semi-boiling tomato sauce that you make before..and you eat it with bread. Bread, eggs, and tomatoes—im on board!
The next day, I headed to el bolson, and was greeted with amazing people, and a really great market… it took me about 3 hours and several walks through the market to commit to anything but in the end, I came out with some nice things. A hand carved maté gord that’s simply beautiful and a pair of awesome earrings with quartz and amethyst. It was the first nice day in a while so even though it was a typical Tuesday..everyone was out with their familes, enjoying the entertainment of a local band, and a johny depp look-a-like clown.
The next day I boarded my very long bus to el calafate. Not much to say except that it was a very long ride………especially with my ipod that died an hour into the trip, and without a book. South America has awakened my inner poet so ive been dabbling in a little late night prose.
I had told sam and kyle that I was going to meet them at the bus station when my bus got in, but obviously we arrived late and so they were no where to be found when we finally deboared. The only thing I could think of doing was going to the closest internet café….and luck have it, they were sitting in the first one I saw. We checked into our hostel, and then grabbed a hearty vegetarian sandwhich and some local cerveza.
After debating our options for the glacier, we decided on the most expensive package…4 hours trekking. I think we would all agree that it was the right decision. We woke up early, had breakfast at the hostel, and boarded the bus when it showed up (only 30 minutes late..pretty good for latin American standards)
They drove us to the entrance to the park where we paid the park entry and then were able to walk around on this extensive network of bridges that were constructed to give you multiple angles of the glacier
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Then we took a boat over to another to another glacier, the one we would have a chance to walk around. When we got there, we trekked for 20 minutes up to a base camp where we were fitted from cramps (metal cages for your shoes that fasten to the ice while you’re walking), and then to another basecamp 10 minutes away to put on harnesses. We were actually strapped into anything while we were walking.. they were just precautionary in case anyone fell in (to what? I still don’t know) and they needed to be lifted back up. Then another 5 minutes down, at which point we strappd on our cramp ons, divided into smaller groups and headed out trekking. Basically, if I didn’t have a desire to be an astronaut before (which I didn’t…) I do now; walking on this glacier was like being on a foreign planet. The farther we walked, the more alien the terrain became. And whats more, it was super bizarre seeing moutains covered in greenery RIGHT NEXT TO this huge block of crystal blue ice. we also had the most incredible weather…. As can be seen from the clear blue sky in the pictures. Ill have it be known that I was wearing a total of $0 in snow gear, while the people all around me were decked out in the latest north face bullshit…oh consumerism. We lunched on the glacier with sandwhiches that we had made…and that was the only time I was legitimately cold…
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Afterwards, we endulged our post glacier high with a bottle of wine each…needless to say, we never left the hostel.
The next morning, we had a 4oclock bus to Puerto natales. We ended up arriving at 9pm, grabbed some dinner, and made it to our hostel by 11pm…the next morning, we took a 2pm bus to the foot of the trail in torres del pine, paid the entrance fee, and headed out trekking. We only intended to trek to the base camp, which we heard was 2-3 hours away, so we would get in by 6, set up camp, and have dinner at the refugio. I guess we were surprised by how immediately the incline started, but we kept a good pace and arrived in 1:45…basically, we were running according the map. It was a weird experience passing other hikers every 2 minutes; all treks ive done in the past have been pretty much devoid of passing other travelers, so in a way, it made the experience a bit more touristy…?
When we got to the base camp, most people had already pitched tents to we had to move quickly and claim a spot. At around 8, we had a huge hikers dinner, a box of wine (CLOS…always), and then went to bed- early morning wakeup to prepare for.
I woke up and was unable to feel my feet…besides that, my many layers and unfortunate choice of a sleeping bag had provided enough warm to last me through the night. I was actually suprisied at how few people were unzipping their tents at 5am…after all, seeing the torres at sunset is supposed to be the highlight of the trail.
We were a little behind schedule, so I took lead and set pace. We were basically sprinting through the trail, twilight style… (anyone?).
However, it simply wasn’t good enough. The light was starting to illuminate the trees, headlamps were no longer needed, and my spirit was crushed- we hadn’t even made it to the incline yet. At map told us that the sun was to ride at 6:40, and we had made it to the foot of the ascent at 6:20. Kyle took the backpack, and led the trail the rest of the way. The first part of the incline was incredibly steep, and laid with a sand that gave no traction at all…my motivation was gone. Finally, the 3 torres showed themselves in the light of day, and kyle suggested we head to a boulder to watch the rest of sunrise. But we were wrong……..although the suns light was visible, the sun itself was around 20 minutes away from rearing its head from the horizon…HURRRRAY.
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Pic of badass
We had some coffee, some dried fruit, and then turned back at around 9am. Made it back to refugio italiano at 10am, took down our tents, packed up, had some avena and maté, and were back on the road at 11. We made it to the base of the trail head by 12, took a break and then trekked for another 6 hours. When we finally got to the refugio (which was supposed to be a stopping point before another 2 hours to the campsite) we said fuck it, and pitched tent there. We got in at about 6, napped, and then woke up for dinner at around 8. There also happened to be a spare mattress. Knowing the troubles that cate had had with pulgas (fleas), and the fact that finding and using a mattress in the middle of the woods, that 100’s of disgustingly dirty hikers have slept on, should have grossed me out. But who was I kidding- I was hiking in the same clothes for 4 days, with only 2 pair of underwear and a sleeping bag in a trash bag… thus I threw caution to the wind an indulged the comfort that 5 inches of foam gave me. My nap turned out to be better than my actually sleep that night, because as it turns out, I pitched tent on a hill and was fearful of flipping my tent during the tent; dinner was accompanied by another bottle of wine- so im not sure how/why my anxiety came into play? Oh life.
The next morning we awoke at the leisurely hour of 10 and only ended up leaving the campsite at quarter to 12. This was also distinct for me. On all of my previous treks, we were up at 6, on the trail like 7:30 and into the campsite by 4 to make sure that we had enough light to set up camp. Because the sunsets at 9:30 and its only entirely dark at 10:30, the whole schedule threw me. The trek to the campsite was 2:30 minutes, and we had intended to set up camp, drop off our bags, and then hike to get an alternative view of the torres at sunset, along a path called valle de frances. That never happened. The warmth of the sun by the river, the incredible, clear view of the snowy mountain backdrop was too paralyzing to leave. So we stayed at its foot, ate dried fruit, played cards..and indulged our tired bodies. Dinner of ramen noodles, chocolate, Clos, and an inappropriate dosage of Benadryl- yum.
The next morning, we hit the trail running; no breakfast, just pure adrenalin. It was a 3 hour hike to the base of the mountain where we would catch the 12pm ferry back to our starting point. We made good time and got to the refugio at 10:30, cooked the rest of our avena and 4 packages of oriental flavor ramen (breakfast of champions), and then packed up our gear. I managed to nap after all activities that followed- after breakfast, on the ferry, and on the bus back to Puerto Natales. Later that night we went out for chorriana and beer. The next morning was our 7 hour bus ride to Rio Gallegos, including a stop at immigration which, in addition to being A JOKE, took ¼ the time- oh, I love this country.
We didn’t have reservations for a hostel in rio Gallegos so we chose at random and had someone call from the bus terminal- smoking room at Hotel Paris for 3 please! (no mom, I didn’t turn into a smoker). Exploration, beers, dinner, sleep..TOMORROW PENGUINS.
It didn’t turn out to be that easy. The excursion that kyle had heard of happened to be discontinued….with every tourist agency in rio Gallegos. Finally, we tried one last place and they were able to arrange a separate remisse for us and a family of 4. The ride ended up being a 3 hour offroading adventure.
The penguins were kind of underwhelming, although their shear number was impressive. At this point in the year, they were going through their routine moulting period, which is just a period when any animal regularly sheds its outer layer. For most animals, this takes place all the time (like dogs and cats shedding fur) but with penguins, it happens all at once, for 3-4 weeks during feb or march, and kind of makes them look sickly. So that’s what I saw, a lot of sick looking penguins, and lots of feathers flying about. We walked a ½ mile circle, encountered about 5-6 different clusterings and then made our way to the beach where we got to see them swimming. We weren’t allowed on the beach, as to prevent the disruption of their natural habitat, but they were still amusing to watch from afar.
Afterwards, we were taken to a lighthouse and got coffee and postre, that kyle and I devoured with much regret…oh dulce de leche WHY.
Later that night, we went for dinner in one of rio gallegos’s 6 restaurants, and then stayed awake until our cab ride to the airport at 2am.
And that concludes my tale of life on the road. Funny enough, I remember it as basically one stream of consciousness because I was wearing the same outfit for days on end. That is no joke. THE SAME OUTFIT.