To Ushuaia

Those revelers outside the hotel were just getting warmed up night before last.  Seemed I picked the party pit of South America to start my travels.  I am told because it is safe in Uruguay (a lot of unrest going on in South America now), so everybody comes to Montevideo.  Primarily the Brazilians.  They party like it is 1999.   At any rate, as of 6 AM they were still howling in the streets, leaning into each other for support, and otherwise singing and stomping.  Had to admire them, really.  I was not annoyed.  It was amusing, watching the garbage trucks pull up, and dissipate the crowds, like a band of revolutionaries retreating to the barricades, the more sober holding up the wounded as they slinked away en masse toward a more receptive location to renew the revelry.  So I got up early and just headed for the airport to beat the traffic.  Driving along the waterfront, without any crowds, along the route I had walked two nights previously was a wonderful experience.  So serene.  Shortly thereafter, now at the airport, am struck by panic.  The flight is two hours late.  If I miss my connecting flight, there will be no way to get to Ushuaia, and I will totally miss my trip to Antarctica.  Then they change gates on me when the plane is finally ready to take off.  No announcement in English.  Only walking down a quarter of a mile to the airline personnel desk, and inquiring when the plan would depart and from what gate?, did I get the correct answer.  Ran back for my bags, and got there with five minutes to spare.  Somebody wanted me to get to Ushuaia afterall ...  The locals seem to understand once at the other end, the urgency of catching the connecting flight out of Buenos Aires, and let me dip under the ropes and go to the head of the line.  Through customs in a breeze (endless paperwork, normally, but since I'm returning to Argentina all fees have been paid and passport stamped so they wave me through).  I am struck, while waiting for the next flight, how the waiting area looks like any American mall.  Food court, lots of characters, the kids on cell phones and listening to their I-pods, and they are very style conscious.  Again, not as many as I thought are English speaking, but the parents who are English speakers are easy to spot.  They usually have laptop cases with them, and a willingness to look you in the eye that is surprisingly rare, for such a friendly country.

Flew from Montevideo, back to Buenos Aires.  Then to Califate, three hours south.  Strangely beautiful countryside.  Very isolated.  The road from the air seems to lead to nowhere, and is surrounded by a surreal moonscape.  This in complete contrast two hours later to the descent into Ushuaia, which is upon approach stunning -- much like Prince William Sound in Alaska.  Tall pointed peaks, snow capped and rising steeply from the harbor.  The Strait of Magellan makes a broad watercourse in the leadup, separating Tierra Del Fuego -- the island we are on, El Fin Del Mundo or "The End Of The World" -- from the mainland, which is primarily Chilean territory.  Got to my hostel, La Posta Hostel & Hotel Apart [mailto:reservas@laposta-ush.com.ar ].  Found it very clean, very inviting, with lots of amenities.  More importantly, travellers from all over the world, young and old, whose common language for communicating was always English.  Was struck by the number of middle aged couples, who stayed in the hostels rather than hotels and had gotten the practice down to a fine art.  I admired how they had distilled their "kit" into minimal weight and volume, able to get great mileage out of so few articles and yet somehow prepared for all manner of weather and opportunities for fun.  Walked into town.  Unlike the surroundings, it is not pretty.  Just functional, primarily as a departure point for the Antarctic (50,000 people yearly depart from here to see the 7th continent, primarily during the "summer" months of December through March) and for some of the national parks nearby.  And Patagonia.

Went to a local bar, the Dublin Pub, that had been recommended by Charlotte & Jon earlier in the week.  Again, travellers from all over the world, crowded into one 25 x 30 foot building.  Standing room only.  Place has quite the reputation as "the place" to mingle.  Soccer on big screens in the background was the glue nominally holding the crowd together.  But really, it was the chance to exchange experiences and give and seek advice that draws the crowd.  My time was spent  with two Israeli soliders on leave from their first tour of duty.  Meet Jonathan (Yonattan) and Dor.  They were special forces troops with extensive and intensive  anti-insurgency military training.  Had a huge need to blow off stress, after the rigors of their job for the last three years.  I love Israelis !  Like the Aussies, they are great travellers.  Always friendly.  Well spoken. Multi-lingual.  Eager to make a connection.  Earthy folks, with a great sense of humor.  Quick to smile, to laugh,  and to share.  They were telling me how they had gone trekking in nearby Patagonia, and how easy it was despite the heavy packs because they "didn't have to carry those rifles and grenade launchers and all that ammo!"  We hit it off well, as they learned I was very sympathetic toward Isreael and had done my thesis in college on the creation of Israel as a state.  Eventually had to part company, however, as a group of blonde Sabras worked their way past our comparative tales and into the forefront of their intentions.

Upon my return to the hostel about 2 AM, found a group from Australia and Wales telling me about a strike going on with Chilean transportation workers just across the border.  Seems a fuel surcharge of 20% was added by the government, and it affects all food being brought in due to the airport and regional capital at Punta Arenas being an adjacent island, and all goods must be brought in by boat, to support a population of 150,000.  The cost of petrol itself compounds this.  Most can't afford it.  Riots have ensued.  Three were killed the day before, when a truck ran a strike barrier and ran into a crowd.  So now, nobody can cross by road or air or boat into southernmost Chile.  Thus, no access to Torres Del Paine National Park (my next objective after Antarctica), and no possibility of flying out of Punta Arenas to get further north.  They say over 1000 international travelers are stuck in Torres Del Paine National Park right now (and more in other parts of Patagonia), running out of food as the strike locks them into place.  Many others -- those who do NOT go to Antarctica, but are here for the trekking, the glaciers, the day boat trip around Cape Horn -- are stuck, and awaiting flights out of Ushuaia to Argentina, rather than the natural loop up the west coast to Chilean points of interest.  Apparently, since the richer Chilean citizens up north are not as much affected by this new fuel surcharge, this "green initiative," there are no strikes in that top half of the country, and if you can get far enough north here on the Argentinian side, one can still make their way to Santiago.  A travel agent's or airline clerk's nightmare ...

Okay, signing off now.  Icebreaker to Antarctica (The Polar Star, all 98 passengers worth) starts boarding in about two hours and I have much to do before going to the dock.  Have made arrangements to get the computer repaired upon my return -- hopefully -- which will primarily entail having use of my mouse again, and being able to add pix to the blog once more.  Be back on January 25th.  Strangely, e-mail doesn't work well in the Antarctic !  Will have lots to post in the meantime, however, and can download it upon my return to "civilization."  Be prepared for a backload upon my return.  Ciao y arrividerci !

Next: Antarctica !