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Thursday, March 20, 2008
One year ago today... 
20th March 2007: Kagbeni - Tukuche
I sit writing my journal over a mint tea, then enjoy an apple fritter for breakfast as others awake. Two hard-boiled eggs for second breakfast, pack and we're ready to leave. Out of Kagbeni, we follow the wide, stony riverbed of the muddy, brown Kali Gandaki Nadi. The river is pretty flat and narrow at this point. It's windy, I'm wearing trainers today and miss the support around the ankles walking along the uneven, stony track.

Many light airplanes fly along the valley into and out of Jomsom. We arrive there around 10:30am and walk along the long main drag up to the police checkpost and then the ACAP checkpost. Julien stops at the bank(!) to get a cash advance, the rest of us end up in a "German Bakery"(!!) where we eventually decide to have lunch.

By midday we're on the road again. 20 minutes out of town, Ryan discovers he's left his camera at our lunch stop and runs back. Yam carries Ryan's pack, I carry Yam's load, more weight than I'm used to. Further down the river bed, we finally arrive at Marpha around 13:30. Marpha is touted as the Delightful Apple Capital of Nepal. The town is beautiful, white-washed stone/mud buildings either side of the narrow streets.

We stop in a place to try the local produce: apple juice, cider and brandy. The kiwi chick, Nicole, and husband Billy are there, about to set off for Kalapani. Ryan arrives, puffing from the run. Again we set off out of the village and along the road. Yam and Julien stop at a Rakshi bar, Ryan forges ahead, Mike and I follow at a slower pace. Trees appear along the valley sides, it starts raining lightly but the wind lets up a bit. Bt 15.30 we're in Tukuche, and split up to find our guesthouse, imaginatively named "Tukuche Guesthouse", an old stone/mud villa with a wooden interior surrounding a small courtyard.

As we stretch and check out the apple brandy on the roof, Julien and Yam arrive. After a smoke, Yam takes us to the distillery, an incredible old building, 204 years old, where the 70 year old lady living there explains the process of distilling, despite not touching a drop herself. We sample some of her brandies, very potent brews, and eventually opt for a bottle of carrot brandy between us. Back through town, I peer into what appears to be a run-down, abandoned villa. In fact, we discover a family living inside. A young dirty girl sings in the courtyard as we explore the ruins, an eerie place.

A young dirty girl sings in the courtyard

Out and on in the dark to have an apperetive of Rakshi and mutton, cooked in a very hot and spicy soup. Delicious. We arrive late at Tukuche Guesthouse for our tomato, mushroom and Yak-cheese pizza, accompanied with carrot brandy and black tea, and a couple of spliffs. We engage in conversation about compassion, religion and other such matters. One of the guesthouse kids joins us, but can only reply "yes" to any question thrown his way. Eventually it's bed time.

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Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Norway 
What news, what news? Spent a couple of weeks holiday in Norway, and as usual made an effort to take a few photos to share with you. This time I've tried to make the viewing process more enjoyable and interactive through the use of a simple Flash-based viewer. Feedback, as always, would be more than welcome.

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Monday, May 17, 2004
La Quiaca, Argentina 
I got a strange sense of de ja vù on arriving across the border in La Quiaca. This is the northernmost city in Argentina, the furthest point from Ushuaia, some 5121km away.

La Quiaca to Ushuaia


Strangely enough, from Ushuaia the journey seems to be 50km further, maybe on account that it's uphill? Surely this mystery deserves investigating further.

Ushuaia to La Quiaca

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Sunday, May 16, 2004
Uyuni, Bolivia 
Uyuni is a dusty, grey, windwept town on the Bolivian altiplano. In the town itself, a colourful market sells toiletries, pots and pans, tools, shoes and clothing. Small bowler hats sit on the heads of elder ladies, although the younger generation wears more modern clothing. A couple of kilometers south along the railway line is Uyuni's principle (only?) tourist attraction, a cemetery for trains. Rubbish and plastic bags adorn the few shrubs of the surrounding landscape, mangy dogs run around in packs, fighting in the dirt nearby. Many rusty shells of engines and carriages are strewn around between twisted bits of metal, rails and wheels.

Train Cementary


I had decided against staying a night in Uyuni, instead opting to catch a train at 0230 to Villazón on the border with Argentina, en route to Salta and Buenos Aires where I had to organize my journey home. In the morning, we came across an unforseen obstacle, several large rocks had fallen off a nearby mound and landed on the rails, breaking these in two and obstructing the way of passing trains. Luckily by this time it was day, otherwise we could have ended up in the cemetery ourselves.

On the Rails


Much to my surprise, instead of rolling back to the last village (10 minutes back up the line), the driver opted to wait, while heavy lifting gear was brought from who knows where, and many men appeared with picks, shovels and sledgehammers. Six hours later we were on the move again, and I made it to the Argentinian border with an hour to spare before the Bolivian immigration office closed.

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Uyuni Tour Day 3, Jubica to Uyuni, Bolivia 
The third and final day of our tour to Uyuni, we had until 10am to lie in, have breakfast and get ready. While waiting for Patrick and Alejandro (our punctual driver) we played frisby a bit with some of the local kids, who'd it seems had never seen anything like a frisby before! Then we set off. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of this 10,000 square kilometer expanse of salt, pure white, almost blinding in the sun.


Here we had plenty of opportunities to take trick shots, using Patrick's guitar as a prop.


I felt small in the middle of the salar, and colourful!


About half an hour driving over the flat white surface (there are no roads on the salar), miraculously we arrived at an island, Inca Huasi (home of the Inca), where the Inca and their llamas used to stop overnight before continuing on to their sacred volcano Licancabur, on the edge of the salar. The island is little more than a rocky outcrop, but is home to hundreds of giant cacti, good fun for erotic photos!


We had a picnic lunch on the salar, one of the most surreal locations at which I've had the pleasure of lunching.

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Saturday, May 15, 2004
Uyuni Tour Day 2, Laguna Colorada to Jubica, Bolivia 
In the night, a few of us were suffering from the altitude and the previous day's exertion, not to mention the cold, so little sleep was forthcoming. An early start to day two, breakfast at 0730, then promptly back into the Landcruiser and on towards our first stop for the day, the Stone Tree in the aptly named Dali Desert. Here, lonely rocks formed a surreal landscape with the surrounding sands.

Stone Tree


Back on the road, if it can be called a road...

Off Roading


...until we arrived at yet another altiplanic lake. Here we were lucky to spot an andean fox (not caught on camera, but our driver had a good go at chasing it in the Landcruiser), and more flamingos. Other than that we'd only seen a few vicuña llamas on the way.

Flamingo


After a brief stop at the lake, we continued our journey, stopping for a picnic lunch, where we finally decided it was a good idea to drink the wine that I'd been carting around with me for the last few days. Then onwards again, arriving at an abandoned village, now an army outpost at the side of a railway where we were duly inspected, told not to take photos, and to get on our way.

Rails over the Altiplano


Our final destination of the day was the tiny village of Jubica, home to a slightly more "luxury" hotel owned by our tour operator, Colque. Jubica is situated right on the edge of the Uyuni salt flats, mountains could be seen rising in the distance at the other side of the "salar", some 100km away.

Jubica

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Friday, May 14, 2004
Uyuni Tour Day 1, San Pedro de Atacama to Laguna Colorada, Bolivia 
From San Pedro I joined a 3-day tour to Bolivia, which would take us past some altiplanic lakes, over the Uyuni Salt Flats (the largest and highest in the world) and finally to Uyuni in Southern Bolivia. There were 11 of us signed up for the tour, a strange collection of 5 Kiwis, 2 Irish, 1 American, 2 Israelis and me. A minibus was laid on to take us to the Bolivian border, a tiny outpost at about 4100m altitude next to two altiplanic lakes, Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanca, named for the colour of their waters. We departed early, and the lakes were still frozen in places when we arrived at the border.

The Bolivian Border


From here on, we'd be travelling in 4x4 vehicles, so we were split into two groups. After getting our passports stamped and paying the entry fee to the National Park, we had a light breakfast then loaded our kit onto the Landcruisers. Our first stop was a thermal spring, though in the cold wind nobody dared to bathe, only our feet felt the warm geothermal heat bubbling up from the depths. From there, we had quite a bit of driving to do across the altiplano. The landscape here was pretty bleak.

Road across the Altiplano


Our journey took us past a small salt flat where we stopped to take some experimental photos, then past some geysers, and finally on to Laguna Colorado, a large altiplanic lake where flamingos grazed on the biomass which gave the water it's pink colour. We were to stop here for the night, and had almost the whole afternoon free. Instead of walking along the side of the lake, 3 of us decided to attempt to scale a nearby mountain. At the base we were already over 4300m altitude, and the mountain looked at least 1500m high. Sure enough, the altitude made it hard work, we were about 100m shy of the summit but past our turnaround time, so made the wise decision to head back. The sunset was beautiful, pastel shades of pink and thousands of blues above the lake. However, it was getting a bit chilly and the wind was numbing our extremities. Fortunately, we arrived back at the ranch (a very basic hotel) shortly after the last rays of sun had faded from the sky, and just in time for dinner. Our guide and driver took the oppportunity to have a moan at us for being late, he enjoyed moaning.

Laguna Colorada

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Thursday, May 13, 2004
Excursions in the Atacama Desert, Chile 
From San Pedro I made two excursions; the first to Valle del Muerte (Death Valley!) and Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), the second to the Tatio Geysers.


The landscape around Valle del Muerte was spectacular, rocky geometrical structures, huge sand dunes, barren mountains and volcanoes in the distance. No photograph could do justice to the sunset, which painted the whole scene in a blood-red light, pink fluffy clouds hung eerily overhead. The heat of the day ebbed away as the cold night approached, the planets brightly visible points at dusk. Later on at night, millions of stars shone through the thin desert air, illuminating the night sky.


No rest for the wicked... the following morning we had to get up at 4am for the excursion to the Tatio Geysers, a thermal field underneath the Atacama desert. Here, volcanic activity heats up rocks far underground, over which underground rivers flow. The heated water is forced upwards and bubbles out of the earth in the form of geysers. For some reason, the geysers are most active in the small hours of the morning hence the early start. Hundreds of geysers bubbled up around us, some steaming, some bubbling, some gurgling, some shooting out boiling water into the air, and some just the right temperature to warm up my hands (the night air at this altitude, over 4000m, was well below freezing). On the way back, we had the opportunity to bathe in thermal springs, quite an interesting experience as the air was very chilly, and the water temperature seemed variable, occasionally almost too hot to bare, other times too cool!


We also stopped in a semi-indigenous village before returning to San Pedro, where we enjoyed a cup of tea, a local brew made of coca leaves (good for the altitude), and where a llama attempted to eat our chocolate.

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Wednesday, May 12, 2004
San Pedro de Atacama, Chile 
- Journey across Susque pass, over 5000m altitude, dusty village
- Excursion to Valle del Muerte, Valle de la Luna
- Excursion to Tatio Geysers






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San Pedro de Atacama, Chile 
The bus journey from Salta to San Pedro de Atacama took us over the Sico pass, reaching more than 5000m above sea level, over the backbone of the Andes and the altiplanic plateau. At these altitudes there is little life to be seen, only a few cactus, spiny grass called paja brava and, surprisingly, vicuña, a member of the llama family renowned for the value of it's skin. The route back down the western side of the pass took us into the Atacama desert, the driest place on the planet. The town of San Pedro itself is 2436m above sea level, a dusty, dry oasis in the desert, but a "watering hole" where travellers chill out between visits to the surrounding areas.

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Sunday, May 09, 2004
Safari to the Clouds 
One of the principal tourist attractions of Salta is the Railway to the Clouds, which rises to over 4200m above sea level. I took an alternative tour, The Safari to the Clouds, in an odd-looking open-roofed vehicle named MoviTrack, suitable for 18 passengers.


The road approximately follows the railway line, 170km up to San Antonio de los Cobros, a dusty mining village at 3775m above sea level. Further ahead, in the middle altiplano, we visited the Salt Flats, a vast expanse of salt which gave me a taste of things to come in the Uyuni Salt Flats in Bolivia.


The trip back down the valley took us through some spectacular scenery and an through Purmamarca, an old village with a jesuit church, a UNESCO World Heritage site. On the 2 hour drive back to Salta, we enjoyed some wine and had a little party inside the vehicle!

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Saturday, May 08, 2004
Salta, Argentina 
Salta is a colonial city, capital of the arid province of Salta in Northern Argentina. I arrived at the hostel tired after an overnight bus journey from Córdoba and looking forward to some rest. Unfortunately I was kicked out of bed at midday for the hostel to be "disinfected". At least this gave me a chance to get to know the city a bit.


To the west of Salta, two high mountain ranges and the altiplano (high plane) between them seperate Salta from Northern Chile.

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Wednesday, May 05, 2004
My shadow 

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Monday, May 03, 2004
Mendoza, Argentina 
Strange things were afoot in Mendoza. I'd arranged to meet up with Hans, a Swede I'd met travelling down the Amazon from Tabatinga to Manaus. In Manaus, we'd had some very strange experiences with Brazilian girls, Mendoza proved to be just as surreal. The girls here (mendozinas locas) outnumber the guys, and tourists are in high demand. The Argentinian guys seem to get quite jealous; at a night out in a club, after just rescuing a friend from a dangerous situation, five guys walked into the toilet behind me forming a wall between me and the door. One of them said, in Spanish, "Let's turn off the light, nobody will notice". I pushed my way out, but afterwards all the guys seemed like enemies.

The day I flew
Mendoza wasn't all about wine, women and song. On one of the few days when I managed to emerge out of bed before 4pm, I decided one of the best hangover cures could be paragliding. I borrowed a magic hat from Spike, a fellow traveller with whom I shared a few drunken nights, then set out to fly.


This was surely one of the most liberating experiences of my life, in the air a couple of eagles circled around us, checking us out and sharing our thermoclimes. Mendoza was visible in the distance below, as was the cordillera de los Andes, a 5000m volcano prominent in the distance.



Damajuana Hostel
My stay in Mendoza wouldn't have been the same had it not been for the crazy hostel in which I stayed, Damajuana. This place seems to be some kind of pilgrimage for crazy travellers, and rightly so. The staff were just the friendliest people, Rasta Max & company made everyone feel at home, organized asados (BBQs with the best Argentinian meats), and could sort out pretty much anything else you needed.


Spuddy, another dorm-mate of mine, had trouble with his top bunk, and didn't quite make it to bed most evenings. One evening he got as far as the floor of the dorm, the following evening the flowerbed in the garden seemed to be a good place to stop for the night.

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Thursday, April 22, 2004
Santiago de Chile 
Santiago, home to some 5 million people, and capital of Chile. I stayed with the family of Rodolfo, a Chilean friend I'd met a few months ago in the Amazon, in a large house in a nice residential area of the city. Hanging out with Rodolfo and friends, I learnt to get by with some of the Chilean slang ("buen carrete huevón, ¿cachai?"), and had a couple of interesting evenings out.

Here in Santiago, I felt that Chile is slightly different from other countries in South America, a rich nation struggling to emerge at the cost of some of the cultural aspects found in neighbouring countries. The city centre at lunch-time was milling with people in suits, their stress felt somehow contagious and reminded me of my old life in Madrid. Luckily I found a small bar to escape the crowds, ate some porotos and drunk some wine, followed by a vermouth. Just the right recipe for stress.


The following day I went up the Teleférico in the metropolitan park, the largest urban park in the Americas. From the sanctuary at the top of Cerro San Cristóbal, some 860m above sea level, the view of the city sprawled out below to the foot of the mountains in the distance. Shutting my eyes, I could feel the noise of the city, a faint but constant hum of tires on concrete, textured with occasional sounds of a motorbike, a dog barking or an ambulance. It had rained last night, clearing the smog and revealing the snow-tipped peaks of the Cordillera in the distance. Although I'd forgotten my camera this day, I felt grateful for having the opportunity to see the city in it's natural context.

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Sunday, April 18, 2004
The Lake District, Argentina & Chile 
After a few days chilling out in Bariloche and enjoying the locally-produced chocolates, I headed up north to San Martín de los Andes, a quaint ski resort in the Argentinian lake district. Arriving in off-season, at the end of the summer and before the arrival of the snow, San Martín was fairly deserted, so I decided to continue on towards Panguipulli in Chile, taking a beautifully scenic route through the cordillera and across Lago Pirihueico. The bus to the lake took us along a dirt road, birch(?) forests on each side, snow-tipped peaks in the distance. I was one of only three passengers on the bus.

Arriving at the side of lake Pirihueico, I had a couple of hours wait before the ferry arrived. This place was one of the most tranquil places I've encountered on my travels, a good place to stop and meditate, practice a bit of Tai Chi, feel the force of nature, and take some photos. A burnt-out house by the side of the lake provided good subject material. Finally, the ferry arrived, and off-loaded a group of mountain-bikers, trucks coming to load up with timber, another half-empty bus and a couple of private vehicles.


The journey across this long, narrow lake took about 2 hours, I stayed out on deck chatting and sharing some "Mate" (an argentinian herbal drink) with an Argentinian guy living in Chile. The wind was cold, but the sun was shining and the lake was too beautiful to miss.


Arriving at the other side, in Puerto Fuy, unloading the ferry was a complicated affair, the soft mud which the vehicles had to pass over trapped more than one, including our bus. A bit of pushing and shoving was required to get us going again. The journey onwards to Panguipulli took us over some picturesque rivers and rapids, although dusk and night caught up with us shortly after leaving Puerto Fuy.

I'd originally planned to stay the night in Panguipulli, but on arriving I felt restless to continue onwards, so after a bite to eat and a beer, I found a bus to take as far as Temuco, where I stayed the night in a private lodging.

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Tuesday, April 13, 2004
El Chaltén, Santa Cruz, Argentina 
About 230km north of El Calafate, and deep inside the National Park Los Glaciares, lies El Chaltén, a tiny village (population 350 in off-season), recently named National Centre for Trekking in Argentina.


The main attractions to be seen are Mt. Fitzroy, Cerro Torre, and ice-trekking over glaciars and the continental ice field. After several days trekking previous to arriving here, I decided to take it fairly easy for a couple of days, and just did some day-treks up to Laguna Torre, about 3 hours walk from the village.

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Sunday, April 11, 2004
El Calafate, Santa Cruz, Argentina 
El Calafate, capital of the Santa Cruz province and one of the hubs of entry to the National Park Los Glaciares, is a picturesque, although quite touristy little town. Nearby is the famous glacier Pinto Moreno, one of the last glaciers in the world to still be advancing. I made a day trip to the glacier, a quite spectacular expanse of ice about the size of Buenos Aires city. The front of the glacier, rising 50-70m vertically out of the lake, is pushed forward at a rate of about 2m per day, causing huge chunks of ice to break off and fall into the water below. The noise was as spectacular as the view of the glacier itself.

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The Patagonian Steppe, Argentina & Chile 
The bus journeys from Ushuaia to Punta Arenas in Chile, from Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales, and from Puerto Natales to El Calafate took me over vast expanses of Patagonian Steppe, bleak grasslands, almost unpopulated, mainly flat but interspersed with a few undulating hills, a few lakes and with spectacular views over the Andes in the distance. These terrains seem to be principally inhabited by thousands of sheep, although I also caught a glimpse of some large flightless Ostrich-like birds, which I later discovered to be Ñandú (aka Darwin Rhea), a few Llama and some flamingos in a lake. I found an interesting site about Patagonian wildlife here.

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Friday, April 09, 2004
Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile 
I trekked for 4 days in this beautiful National Park, where "Las Torres" protrude almost 1500m vertically up from their base to around 3000m above sea-level. The mountains are surrounded by beautiful woodlands, rivers, lakes and several glaciers. I would be doing the classic "W" trek, from West to East.

Day 1
An early start to catch the 0730 bus from Puerto Natales to the National Park, a 3 hour journey. Near the park entrance I spotted several Patagonian Llamas (known here as Guanaco), and caught a glimpse of a Condor overhead. After being dropped off on the Eastern shore of Lake Pehoé, a Catamarán took us over the cold, windy lake to Refugio Pehoé, where I would be staying tonight and the starting point of my trek. An ambitious start today, leaving my bags at the Refugio I headed up to Grey's Glacier, quite a tough trek with the wind against me and mainly uphill, although I only took 2 1/2 hours, less than planned. The effort was rewarded with beautiful views of the clear blue ice-breaks washed up on the shore below me, and the magnificent glacier ahead of me, rising over 50m above the water of the lake, Lago Grey.

The way back was easier, the wind behind me, although it was raining I still made it back in one piece and before dusk. Back at the campsite, cooked myself some canned beans. Some Americans offered me some of their vegitarian rice, and eyed up my beans eagerly until I mentioned they had meat in them. We got on to a conversation about vegitarian food, apparently in the USA there are high-tech veggie products and even veggie-bacon that looks like real bacon. I suggested that they could genetically modify cows to grow soya instead of meat. Luke suggested to genetically modify trees to grow meat. Being a vegetarian in the future could be interesting...

Day 2
Another early start, left the refugio at 0740 in a huff as they had refused to let me heat some milk for my coffee. Made good going against the wind arriving at Campamento Italiano (The Italian Camp) by 0930. I took out some provisions for lunch, then hung my bag on a tree - apparently there are rats in the Italian Camp. The trek up the Valle de Los Franceses was quite steep and rocky until arriving at a large river flowing back down the valley behind me, the falling water making a very loud noise. Then through woodland between two rivers until reaching a clearing where I could see the mountains to my East, shrowded in clouds, and the lakes past the valley behind me. A bit further on, it started hailing, a cold wind was blowing, I appreciated the shelter the last bit of woodland offered me before heading on to Campamento Britanico (the British Camp), where I stopped for lunch, Cheese & Tuna rolls.

My 10 minute stop for lunch was long enough for me to become nearly hypothermic, and as the visibility was fairly poor, I decided to head back down instead of risking another hour up to the top. Looking back from the clearing on the way down, the weather had cleared up and become sunny, c'est la vie. In any case, my knees were aching by now and I was eager to get to Refugio Los Cuernos to rest. After what must have been one of the most strenuous days of my journey, I arrived, tired and aching, by 1500, had a shower and heated up some milk for my coffee. By now I felt human enough to play a couple of games of chess with a guide at the hostel, the first game was a draw, I lost the second game after stupidly losing my Queen, although I put up a valiant fight.


Cooked myself some dinner, and enjoyed a bit of wine, chatting with other trekkers arriving at the Refugio.

Day 3
Left around nine (O'Clock) towards my next stop, Refugio El Chileno, according to the maps a 6 hour trek, but today my pack was a lot lighter after having eaten most of my provisions. After 90 minutes I was about half-way there and was confronted with a grassy slope of cows, looking at me intimidatingly. When I approached, however, I realized that they were scared of me. By midday I'd arrived at the Refugio, leaving me the afternoon free. Over lunch I met a couple of kiwis staying at the refuge, and decided to join them in the afternoon for the climb up to Las Torres. Quite a steep climb, but by now I was feeling fit and it wasn't too tough for me. At the top our efforts were rewarded with a beautiful view of Las Torres, a natural arena surrounded a lake of melt-water below, the afternoon sun lit up the 1500m towers with a majestic light.


After enjoying the last rays of sun, we made our way back down, passing "the german team" heading the other way, they'd have to trek down in the dark later. Back at the refuge, we enjoyed some fried salmon, a bit of wine, and I found out the results of the Champions Leage matches, Madrid and Milan eliminated - what a result! Set my alarm for 0445, intending to catch the sunrise at Las Torres.

Day 4
At 0445, checked out of the windows, and no stars were visible so I assumed it would be a cloudy day, and decided against the trek up to Las Torres again. Instead, rested until 0915 then got up for breakfast, had a chat to the german team, packed and headed back down to the park entrance, a mere 3 hour trek. On the way down, met a couple of Irish people who I'd met previously in Lençois (Brazil) and in Buenos Aires... it really is a small world! I was hoping to get some photos of Llamas on the way back, but didn't see any until right near the park entrance, and had to feed some positive energy to my camera battery until it allowed me to take a couple of photos.

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Friday, April 02, 2004
The Beagle Channel, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina 
Today I took a boat trip out on the Beagle Channel south of Ushuaia, seeing many sealions, cormorants and even caught a lucky glimpse a few penguins in the water. After the trip, went out for dinner with the international contingent from the trip, some Canadians, an American and a German. The American girl, Heather, had an interesting Suunto watch for hiking, with heartbeat measurement, barometer, and even an electronic compass. When I questioned how the compass setting worked she thought out loud "I don't know what the Magnetic Deviation is here", the first time I've heard anyone concerned about the local magnetic deviation. She is a pilot in her spare time, so I guess that has something to do with it.


Konrad, the German, came up with a good translation of a Spanish Phrase, "The World is a Tissue". See if you can figure out what it means!

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Thursday, April 01, 2004
Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina 
Ushuaia, the most austral city in the world, 55º south of the equator, and just a stones throw away from Antarctica. I arrived last night prepared for the worst in my spanking new thermal/waterproof/windproof jacket, so I was a bit disappointed to discover that it was actually 15ºC and had been excellent weather for this time of year. Checked into a hostel in the centre of town for 15 pesos a night (less than 5 euros - Argentina is working out to be quite cheap).

This morning, after looking around the town and getting the "End of the World Museum" stamp in my passport, I decided to trek up to a glaciar nearby, Le Martial. At first the trek was fairly easy going, up through woodlands, over rocky shale and alongside a stream of meltwater. The wind was cold, but the sun was shining and I was pretty hot after walking for a while. After a couple of hours climbing, near the foot of the glacier, there were beautiful views down the valley and over the city of Ushuaia, it's port and the Beagle channel. Met several fellow trekkers on the trail from Argentina, Mexico, France, UK and Holland.


Tomorrow I hope to go to the National Park "Tierra del Fuego", then hopefully I'll manage to do a small boat trip on Saturday before heading north to Punta Arenas in Chile. As another austral explore once said, I'm just going out for a walk, I may be some time...

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Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Buenos Aires - La Boca, Estancia and Football 
On Saturday we visited La Boca, one of the poorer areas of Buenos Aires, but beautiful all the same. The home of Boca Juniors football club, La Boca is very bohemian and very colorful.


On Sunday, we were invited to an Estancia (a house in the country) of an Argentinian friend of ours... we sat by the pool, sunbathed, had an asado (lots of grilled meats) and some wine.

Last night we got to see some Argentinian football at last, at the stadium of River Plate. Argentina 1 - Ecuador 0. Not particularly interesting match, and I think Argentina were quite lucky to score, although they deserved the victory.

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Saturday, March 27, 2004
Buenos Aires 
Buenos Aires, the most European of South American cities... it almost seems like being back "home", in Madrid. A mere 16 hour journey from Iguazu, the Argentinian buses are definitely an improvement on the Brazilian ones, full reclining seats, blankets, even dinner. On the down side, they hardly stop at all, so getting off to stretch legs and practice capoeria isn't feasible. Leaving Iguazu, we got stopped by the police, who bought on a sniffer dog to check for drugs. I petted it and fed it some positive energy so it didn't bark at me :)

Last night, I met up with several of my new friends here, and ended going out for dinner just myself and 6 girls (this is a new record for me!). Even the eating hours are like Madrid here, we ended up sitting down at the restaurant at about 23:40, after having an aperitif in a wine-bar nearby. We had some tasty argentinian meats, great wines and ended up going on to a club a bit later on. Again, not so different from back home, although the DJ wasn't really up to scratch.

Good things in Argentina
  • Pretty girls
  • Good wines
  • Good meats
  • Comfortable buses

Bad things in Argentina (vs. Brazil)
  • Breakfasts
  • Juices

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Thursday, March 25, 2004
Table Football Queen 
In the hostal in Iguazu, met a french girl called Karima who was the best table football player I have had the pleasure to meet. I played her the first night I was there, and got completely trashed. However, I became quite competitive and played many times over the next couple of days. I still didn't manage to beat her, but I did win a caipirinha by scoring 5 goals against her. I also suffered my first table football injury, by pushing my right thumb into the side of the table I managed to get it to bleed under the corner of the nail. Luckily my friends Sarah and Nadia were on hand to offer medical assistance, after a bit of persuasion they got me some antiseptic and put a plaster on me. The game continued after the injury, but I was robbed of the victory.

Ruben, the DJ and barman at the hostal, was also a keen player, and beat me on my second night. We had a rematch just before I left, "first goal wins" as he couldn't take much time off work. He served and I slammed it into the back of the net with the first touch, his players didn't even get to touch the ball. Sweet!

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Alaskan Friends 
Met Nick and Ivan, a couple of Alaskan musicians on the bus from Rio to Iguazu... both extremely talented. In the evenings at the hostal we sat around listening to them jamming. Some of Nick's songs are very original (Strangers have the best candy, The Belly Button Song, Paperclip & Candy Girl).

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Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Iguaçu Falls 
The eternal bus journeys have improved notably since I discovered a wonderful invention called the "Discman", having previously obtained some CDs with new and interesting music. My record without music was 19 hours from Porto Seguro to Río de Janeiro, and that with a "stomach problem" (probably a parasite I picked up drinking river water during the trek in Chapada Diamantina), for which I decided to take an anti-shit pill. Yes, the life of the traveller is full of paradoxes. "Why would you want to do that?", some might ask. But once in a while he encounters a unique moment, for example, lying on a rock overhanging the edge of "Caçoeira Fumaça", the highest freefalling waterfall in Brazil. 400m below, the natural pool in which we had bathed the previous day looked the size of a 10 centavo coin. The water evaporated into a fine mist about halfway down, answering a question we had asked ourselves the day before, is it possible for a waterfall to evaporate into nothing? The 3-day trek along the river Capibara was one of the highlights of my travels in Brazil.

I'm now in Puerto Iguazu, the Argentinian side of the border, defined by the river Iguaçu. The 22 hour bus journey from Río was no sweat, this time with music. The buses here double as cryogenic freezing units. A new friend from Alaska mentioned that it was becoming fashionable to cryogenically freeze pets and family members in some circles. The next step could be to have them frozen in a familiar pose. "Sis, you got your hand in the cookie jar again?", or "Dad, you still in the John?" (For those of you who don't know, John is an American term for bathroom/toilet.

I'm still awestruck by the visit to the waterfalls here yesterday, vast quantities of water falling all over the place, the splash and spray from the bottom bounces up and creates this kind of upside-down rain effect, and the sunlight in the afternoon refracted to create 360º rainbows. Swifts live behind the thick wall of water in the falls, and towards sunset, they come home to roost, kamikaze style, straight through the falls.

Back at the hostal, met a fellow traveller/new friend photographer of mine with whom we discussed whether a rainbow perceived by two different people is in the same place or not. She reckons it's the same rainbow independent of who's looking at it, I wasn't convinced. Had a look at some interesting sites about rainbows on the web, and discovered I was right, rainbows are an optical illusion -- the sun must always be at your back in order to see one. No two people ever see the same rainbow!

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Sunday, March 21, 2004
Río de Janeiro 
Spent about a week in Río, got to know the city a bit, but I didn't manage to do any of the touristy things (Christ the Redeemer, Sugarloaf, Football). Didn't even spend much time on the beach as the weather was quite overcast and rainy a lot of the time. Of course, on my last day, the weather was beautiful and the beach was heaving, lots of beautiful tanned bodies around. Thought I'd spend a little time on the beach before leaving, and ended up nearly missing my bus!!

Met several people in the hostal, including some french girls. We had a conversation about junk mail... a friend of mine keeps a collection of funny junk mails. I expressed my concern of how my name got on the "small penis" list, but was reassured to find out that the french girl also receives "might aswell go big" emails:

no guy has to settle for an average size penis
Gain 3 inches guaranteed
see our website for more info


I met another American who lives in Río and is training to be the manager of a hostel which caters mainly for israelis (all written material in the hostal seemed to be written in hebrew, no english or portuguese in sight). Strangely, although his portugues is fine, I don't think he speaks any hebrew!

Another first for me in Río was having to negotiate to get out of a bar. They surrepticiously wrote down a 12 real entrance fee on a bit of paper they gave to me, and although I didn't partake of any drinks they were still eager to charge. Managed to excuse myself by telling them I was just looking for some friends who were there.

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Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Lençois, Bahia 
This small town in the Chapada Diamantina National Park is really something special. We trekked 3 days up along the side of the river Capibara making our way slowly through forests and scrambling rocks, quite tough terrain with the packs and tents, etc. The most beautiful thing I've done in Brazil however, swimming in natural pools (very fresh) in the river, showering in waterfalls, sleeping in caves (tents when it rained), and seeing the highest free-falling waterfall in Brazil, from below (swimming in the pool at the bottom) and from above, where a rock overhangs the waterfall and lets you see 400m below vertically. Quite scarey, but beautiful all the same. Also sampled some of the best weed I've tried in a long time courtesy of our brazilian guide, who is also an excellent music connoiseur, from whom I got a few good recommendations.


The town itself is just as beatiful as the surrounding countryside, I walked around for about an hour the other day without seeing another tourist (although there are quite a few about), but the locals are very beautiful happy people, the kids play around with kites, there are a few donkeys and frogs around too.



It has been so nice I extended my stay, tried to sell my bus ticket last night unsuccessfully, but will stay for another night at least before heading down to Morro de Sao Paolo, where I'll probably spend a few days on the beach recovering my tan. Got yet another cold, so trying to take it easy and get better AGAIN. Fucking air-conditioned buses I guess.

O'Clock?
Me and Dave, one of my companions on the trek, found an interesting way to bemuse our other friends by asking a simple one-word question in answer to time related questions/statements. It works like this:

It's three pm/seven thirty/sixteen fourty two/midday/...
- O'Clock?

What time shall we meet for dinner?
- O'Clock?

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Tuesday, December 23, 2003

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