Tea with the penguins

There really isn't much to see in Patagonia. As soon as you leave a town you're greeted by hundreds of kilometres of neverending shrubbery. It's a semi-desert at this lattitude and it's only along the coast that you can find anything of interest. Even then you have to drive for hours to find it, but when you do it's stunning.

On the whale trip I met a couple of girls who had decided to hire a car and drive to the penguin colony at Punta Tombo - only two and half hours away - and Gaiman, the 'Welsh' village, rather than pay another 60 quid to be driven there in an uncomfortable minibus with 20 Belgians. So again I was up at 6.30am yesterday morning. I'm supposed to be on holiday!

The penguin colony was worth the drive though. At the moment the tourism down here is sufficiently under-developed that they're relaxed about walking around the colony . There's no ropes or fences - all the rangers ask is that if one wants to cross in front of you, you let it go ahead of you. Which seemed reasonable enough, it is their home after all. It means you can get very close to them - if you were allowed you could pick them up, stroke them, take one home in your bag, whatever. They're very docile and seemed completely unperturbed by our presence.

It's quite tricky to get your head round the weather down here. The enormous sky is a beautiful blue and the sun blazes down - you can feel yourself burning very quickly if you haven't got sun cream on. But as soon as the wind picks up it's absolutely perishing. Freezing wind, burning sun, semi-desert, whales, penguins. It's all getting very weird.

Not as weird as Gaiman, the Patagonian Welsh village though. The place's most famous landmark is the Tea House which the Princess of Wales visited once in the 1990s. It's a genuinely odd place, little old spanish ladies in Welsh costume serve real tea, cakes, scones, jam, bread and butter and sandwiches with the crusts cut off. And all in the middle of Patagonia.

Patagonia is a strange place. It's so alien to anything I've ever seen in Europe, let alone in the UK. Getting around it is a major pain in the arse and the prospect of another 18-hour bus trip to Rio Gallegos looms this evening, but I'm so glad I decided to head down hear rather than straight across to Santiago to Buenos Aires.

Whale of a time

Despite my initial fears, an 18-hour bus journey isn't as bad as it sounds. I had a seat that folded out into a completely lie-flat bed, a hot meal served and they showed a movie. It definitely was a step up from National Express. Hopefully the others one I've got to get are as good, as I've worked out I will be spending approximately 100 hours on buses before I get to Santiago to catch my flight to Auckland on 16 December.

I was due to leave South America on 16 November, thinking that a month would be enough to see Buenos Aires, Tierra del Fuego and Machu Pichu. Boy was i wrong though. Looking at a map of the world in the UK just doesn't give a real idea of just how big this continent is. Argentina on its own is massive, and to go down to the bottom and back up to Santiago is going to take about a month. Six weeks just to see a fraction of the southern tip of South America, let alone Brazil, Peru, Bolivia, Venezuela etc. I guess I'll have to come back to do the north.

The bus trip was worth it though. I was up at 6.30 on my first morning to go on a tour of Peninsula Valdes - a nature reserve that juts out of the coast line just north of Puerto Madryn. After about an hour's drive through absolute nothingness we arrived at a tiny little village and jumped into a boat to head out to sea to try and spot some whales.
Our guide had spent most of the journey playing down our expectations, "It's the end of the mating seasoon," "They're moving on," "We don't always see them," etc. So it was pretty cool when we spotted this on the horizon.

Once the grizzled skipper had spotted the tail we headed out to where we'd seen it and switched off the engine and waited to see what would happen.

After about 10 minutes of bobbing around with 30 pairs of eyes scouring the surrounding water for a sign of the animal whose tail we'd seen, a blue black bulge surfaced just a few feet from the boat and headed straight towards us.

The skipper said it was only a young one, but it was huge. Easily 30 feet long and he swam so close to the boat that when he emptied his blow holes I swear you could hear a 'voice' - a kind of low rumble from within as he expelled the air. Apparently it was a southern right whale http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Right_whale

After another 10 minutes or so he was joined by what the guide said was his younger brother and the two of them frollicked (as much as a 15-ton whale can frollick) in the water around us. At one point he waved his tail so close to the boat that a couple of people were able to reach over the rail and touch it.

Simply an amazing experience and one I'll never forget. There was no communing with the creatures or any of kind of spiritual connection with the deep, but I did have to stop taking pictures for 10 minutes just so I could stand and stare in wonder at them. As awe-inspiring as their size and grace was, I had to pinch myself to take in the fact I was in the south Atlantic off the coast of Patagonia meeting a whale. Crazy times.

I think it may even eclipse Jesus World!

Dramatis personae

Probably more for my own future memories, but it does show what a varied bunch travellers are. And the list is in order of appearance, not affection:

Stuart, London, biker driving the length of south and north America- Bs As
Sebastian, Munich, classmate - Bs As
Michael, Lyons, classmate - Bs As
Amanda, Canadia, classmate - Bs As
Kevin, Berlin, classmate - Bs As
Susie, Woolongong, Crap tours guide and all-round good egg (?) - Bs As
Sally, Wogahwogah(?), nutty Australian traveller - Bs As
Ellen, Utrecht - Bs As
John, Sydney, exiled scouser - Montevideo ferry
Matt, London, scouser's mate - Montevideo ferry
Rodrigo, Uruguayan surf bum - Punta del Este
Aron, Aalborg - Punta del Este
Ida, Aalborg - Punta del Este
Donald, London, actor married to Lucy - Puerto Madryn
Lucy, London, ginger married to Donald - Puerto Madryn
Brandon, LA - anthropology lecturer at Santa Monica university
Jenny, Belfast, Accenture consultant and font of travelling knowledge - Puerto Madryn
Daphna, Tel Aviv, former Israeli army intelligence soldier - Puerto Madryn
Solenda, Bs As, Salsa queen and government psychologist - Puerto Madryn
Rodrig, Barcelona, insurance executive and bus mate to Rio Gallegos - Puerto Madryn

Rooms I've known

Marco Polo Inn, El Calafate, Aregentina:


Niko's II, Puerto Natales, Chile:


Mare Australis, Cape Horn:

San Telmo, Buenos Aires, Argentina:

Plaza Independencia, Montevideo, Uruguay:


Avenida Las Acasias, Punta del Este, Uruguay:

Avenida Marcelo T Alveada, Recoleta, Buenos Aires:

Bartolomeo Mitre, Puerta Madryn, Argentina:

?, Rio Gallegos, Argentina:

Freestyle Hostel, Ushuaia, Argentina:

Who ever goes to Uruguay?

Sorry, been on the move pretty constantly since Saturday so here's some pics of my time in Uruguay.

This statue is of the founder of Uruguay, whose name escapes me, in the middle of Plaza Indepencia in Montevideo. Underneath the statue is a mausoleum a la Lenin in Moscow, except with ashes instead of a waxwork dummy.

The two toy soldier-shaped outlines are actually real soldiers who guard hiss dust 24/7 in complete silence and at rigid attention. I was the only one in the room when I walked in and the guards were as photographed. They didn't move until I subtly waved my camera at the one on the left and he gave the most imperceptible of nods. (I did leave and then quickly go back in to see if they'd moved but they hadn't. What a job).

Montevideo is actually a very pretty place, there's not much to see there in anything more than a day, but it had a nice vibe and was a welcome break after the chaos of Buenos Aires.

If you've ever been to Puerto Cervo in Sardinia then you have a pretty good idea what Punta del Este is like - except Punta is bigger, has 40km of uninterrupted beaches, and is more expensive.

It's a really impressive place and I'm glad I was there in spring as the beaches were deserted but it was still hot.

Rodrigo (stood up in the middle) and his wife Alejandra run a tiny little hostel effectively out of the outhouses in their back garden, but what they lack in facilities they more than made up for in hospitality. Rodrigo drove me to the beach in his 1973 Range Rover (a good year for Range Rovers apparently) to watch the surfers and loaf about, and he rustled up a great BBQ for me, John, an expat Scouser living in Australia, and a couple of Swedish kids.

He cooked something up which he called a 'gland' from a cow's neck. Despite our fears it was delicious.

One of the things I've noticed about South America is how much sky there is and how visible the weather is. This is a storm coming in over Punta del Este. One minute 30 degree sunshine, the next torrential rain.

Oh, and there's a lot of thatched cottages in Uruguay...

In Punta del Este port, the fisherman prepare their nets and bait on the wharf wall and chuck the remains into the water, which attracts some pretty large sea lions who bask in the sun and wolf down the remnants.

Jesus world rocks

If you're going to spend Halloween anywhere, where better to celebrate an ancient pagan festival than the world's only Christian amusement park?

Jesus World as it's affectionately known to damned heathen travellers, or Tierra Santa to the good Catholic people of South America, does exactly what it says on the tin. A huge amusement park devoted to Christ and the stories surrounding him. It sounds tacky, and it is, but it's certainly not cheap. But boy is it funny.

You know you're going to enjoy somewhere when the guy who collects your tickets is dressed as a centurion and the place is run by real Franciscan monks, complete with mobiles, loudhailers and clipboards. Brilliant. I was just in heaven, well as close as I've been outside of a church, it was fascinating, unique, hilarious, sombre and ridiculous all at the same time.

It's essentially a mock Jerusalem, complete with life-size models acting out daily chores, the crucifixion, Lazarus, everything.

And then as a finale, a 30-foot high Christ rises up out of a fibreglass rock to blaring choral music and the raptures of the assembled schoolchildren. It was truly surreal, but if the point of it was to send you away feeling good about yourself, it certainly worked!

Me, Susie and a group of travelelrs we'd collected and forced to join us at Jesus World, headed back to Plaza Dorrego for some late night grub and tango. Very Buenos Aires.

Then on to a blues bar where this young girl played an astonishing set. She really was a talent and everyone loved her. Very cool.

Then to a metal bar for drinks at 4am, which when this lot...

...were done, turned itself into a disco playing Michael Jackson, A-ha and Duran Duran. I couldn't quite see the link, but the locals seemed to enjoy themselves.

After the exertions of Halloween it was a quick stroll across town to meet Susie and the school gang for a quiet steak supper. On the way I came across this lot

I don't know either, but it kinda summed Buenos Aires up. Loud, incomprehensible and slightly unhinged.

Tomorrow Uruguay.

Maradona mania

For some ungodly reason Maradona is a god here. And the fact he has just been made coach of their national team has made the little bugger's face even more omnipresent than it already was.
Though I guess when in Rome... so I headed down to La Boca, the neighbourhood of Buenos Aires which is home to, yes you've guessed it, Boca Juniors.

I had a stroll round the Bombanero stadium, which is painted the blue and yellow of Boca, save for the Coca Cola logos which are in black and white - River Plate's colours are red and white, such is the animosity between the two teams.

Outside the stadium they have a walk of fame with foot casts of various ex-players, all of whose footprints are still visible. With the exception of El Diego's which has been worn smooth by infatuated Boca fans.

The nieghbourhood of La Boca is a pretty scummy place in fact, and tourists are advised to stick to the main drag which is actually very pretty. Apparently, the first immigrants to Buenos Aires (after the Spanish had set the city up) were Italians who worked the docks. They were so poor they couldn't afford to build houses so they nicked iron and paint from the shipyards and used them to build La Boca and its houses.

It's all very pretty, but the docks are so contaminated from industry that the air round there is really toxic. It's not your normal 'fishy/diesel' port smell, it's a really metallic choking smell.

The tango was invented in this neighbourhood (originally for two fellas) and there were alot of dancers around to keep the tourists entertained if we got bored of the Diego lookalike (Sorry for not getting a picture of him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it!). So here are the tango dancers instead. After a couple of hours though I was ready to get out as the smell was giving me a headache.

Well school's nearly over and I took a stroll down to the ferry and bus company to get everything booked for next week. I'm headin to Montevideo on Sunday, and then to Punta del Este for a few days on the beach. As cool as Buenos Aires is, I'm ready to escape the city and breath some clean air, it's really very polluted here, despite the clear blue skies.

While wandering I discovered this - Torre Ingles. In days gone by the British and the Argentinians were bosom buddies. So much so that the British residents of Buenos Aires built this tower as a thank you to the 'bueno gentile' of the city for being, well, so nice.

I was amazed it hadn't been demolished during the Falklands conflict, but after walking round it I saw a few smashed windows and paint stains so it may have been a target after all.

They are still a pretty political people. Even their grafitti is political. There's no tagging, it's all either giant colourful murals or this kind of thing.

I've seen three demonstrations already. One was about fifty people just strolling down the road with a banner just shouting. No police, but walking down the middle of the road holding up the traffic - if that was London they'd all have been nicked for something. Who lives in the authoritarian country, us or them?

They're pretty free about everything - there's no lane discipline on the roads, red lights are jumped, bikers don't wear helmets, mobiles are used at the wheel, people smoke in bars and restaurants despite it being illegal. It's chaos really, but you can't help but feel they value their freedom, both politically and socially, more highly than the rest of us - either because it's relatively new to them, or because they're just latino and don't give a shit.

Blimey, don't know what came over me then. Better redress the balance. Erm, I've never seen so many camel toes. It's like a mark of distinction for young and old alike, part of the fashion. Very disturbing.

El weekend

Friday night was the birthday of one of my Spanish classmate's birthday's - Michael, the guy to the right of the young German guy giving the internationally recognised sign for "Ich rock mit die Hoff".

We went to a club in Buenos Aires docklands, which seemed a bit exclusive for a bunch of scabby travellers, but we were given free entrance and got in ahead of all the fashionably dressed locals. Must be something to do with us having mucho dinero - if only they knew! Still they did provide scantily clad dancing girls to brighten up the place, which is always nice.

And of course, this being Buenos Aires, we didn't get there until 2am and didn't leave until about 6am, I think. A few cervezas were drunk and the odd Vodka y Speed (Red Bull). Jokes were told the Germans didn't get, arguments were had with this Aussie guy and gal about sport and conversations started with locals none of us could finish cos our Spanish is so bad. So much for Spanish lessons!

Suffice to Saturday was not particularly active. But I did pop down to the widest avenue in the world as old Square Head I met last week was doing doughnuts to entertain the locals. I couldn't see much, but I could certainly hear him. This is the smoke from his doughnut, not him blowing up.

A good job Saturday was quiet as Sunday was a big day. Thursday had been Violetta's birthday so Sunday was when I headed up to the northern suburbs of Buenos Aires to give her her presents and spend a couple of hours with her.

She was a bit shy at first, but we pottered around a local park and she had a go on the carousel and various other rides. Pretty shabby ones it haas to be said, but when you're three a stick is hours of fun.

After a while she became a bit more chatty and was running around like a mad thing. Apparently her mother was the same, I was always quite a shy kid I think so she definitely gets her joie de vivre from her! She is very bright and chatty when she gets going - she was making friends with the other kids, trying out all the rides and is very smiley. And she attracts alot of attention because of her hair - she draws a lot of stares from the Argentines. I was quite proud actually!

We then found a spot on the grass to give her her presents, and as predicted she was more interested in the envelope and wrapping paper than the gifts themselves, though she did try and undress Paddington Bear.

I'd written her a card, which she obviously can't read until she's older, but she seemed to like the candles on the front. She originally was reading it upside down before realising without prompting that it was the wrong way up. Smart girl!

I have to admit it was tough leaving her. She doesn't speak very much English beyond Please and Thank you and she doesn't know who I am, but having to say goodbye and not know when I will see her again was very difficult. Still, hopefully she may remember that I came and her mother will tell her and then we will have to see what happens in the future.