The US is bankrupt. So is Europe and Argentina. Australia is too but will not be aware of it for 10 years. This was the cheery world economic summary from another survivor of flight AR1695/1699. He is a US Economist who tours the globe to speak on such matters.
Party big, before its all over.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Hell
We’re not sure how we went on those tests now. We are surrounded by 300 volcanos and being led down a river valley. The river Styx perhaps? There is a foreboding mist all around.
The mist suddenly lifts. We can see a beautiful lake and the volcanos on the other side. The bus drops us off at another jaw dropper of a hotel at sunset. Cabanos Del Lago, Puerto Varas, Chile. We enjoy a 5 star dinner at 2 star prices with a view of what resembles Sydney Harbour with mount Fuji on the other side.
In the very early morning, our zombie carcasses are ungratefully dragged to yet another airport, Puerto Montt.
The airport is brand new. Our plane will be half an hour late, yeah sure. But it was. Lan Chile seems to have newer planes and when they predict delays they are not just spinning you the next chapter of a very long story.
The flight was bright, cheery, and short. We’re in Santiago airport awaiting our International transfer back to Buenos Aires. We need blood. The Britt Shop Chile provides. We settle down in a quiet section of the airport undergoing renovation, next to a power point with a coke, chips and chocolate food party. Tricia has a new book and I have electrons coursing through my veins.
On the fourth "final call", Tricia finally realised her name was being called. Looking around our gate lounge we saw everyone had vanished. We ran (very quickly for zombies) to the gate just in time before they locked the airplane door. Who'd have thought a flight in South America would actually take off on time? LAN Chile, when sending Argentinians back home, apparently.
Zombiism will hopefully end tomorrow night when we will collapse to sleep in our own bed at around 1 AM.
The mist suddenly lifts. We can see a beautiful lake and the volcanos on the other side. The bus drops us off at another jaw dropper of a hotel at sunset. Cabanos Del Lago, Puerto Varas, Chile. We enjoy a 5 star dinner at 2 star prices with a view of what resembles Sydney Harbour with mount Fuji on the other side.
In the very early morning, our zombie carcasses are ungratefully dragged to yet another airport, Puerto Montt.
The airport is brand new. Our plane will be half an hour late, yeah sure. But it was. Lan Chile seems to have newer planes and when they predict delays they are not just spinning you the next chapter of a very long story.
The flight was bright, cheery, and short. We’re in Santiago airport awaiting our International transfer back to Buenos Aires. We need blood. The Britt Shop Chile provides. We settle down in a quiet section of the airport undergoing renovation, next to a power point with a coke, chips and chocolate food party. Tricia has a new book and I have electrons coursing through my veins.
On the fourth "final call", Tricia finally realised her name was being called. Looking around our gate lounge we saw everyone had vanished. We ran (very quickly for zombies) to the gate just in time before they locked the airplane door. Who'd have thought a flight in South America would actually take off on time? LAN Chile, when sending Argentinians back home, apparently.
Zombiism will hopefully end tomorrow night when we will collapse to sleep in our own bed at around 1 AM.
Monday, April 25, 2011
From The Other Side
We waited, with no information, all day. At 5 PM we were told a bus would be here for a 6:30 departure. It arrived a 6 PM. At the airport, our flight AR1695 was listed on the monitor as “taken off”. This means little as our flight last night ‘officially’ took off 2 hours late and arrived at its scheduled destination!
One of the Spanish passengers informed us our flight number has changed to AR1699 and due to depart at 8 PM and that the plane is the same one from last night.
At 9:30 PM the captain manoeuvred the plane, with us all in it, to the very end of the runway once again. He also revved the engines a couple of times on the way. Not a confidence inspiring start.
He did the U turn and applied full throttle with the entire length of the runway ahead. We got half way down and he didn’t hit the brakes. Are we about to become a burning twisted wreck of metal in the desert?
The plane angled upwards, and then the ground released us. We were in the air, just. After climbing a few hundred feet more all the passengers started applauding as if their team had just scored the winning goal.
When the captain announced we are descending to our destination, Bariloche Airport. Every second of the approach was stretched by the mounting fear. We went through a cloud. The plane jolted and a quarter of the passengers screamed. More long seconds passed. We went through another cloud. The whole plane jolted and rattled. Half the passengers screamed. When the third cloud and jolt came no one screamed, we were clinging on for dear life.
I suspect this was the point we all died somewhere in the desert outside Bariloche. But it might have been on the actual landing which we recall as being smooth and cheered by all even more vigourously. There were hugs and kisses all around as the survivors of flight AR1699 bade farewell to one another.
Others stayed on the plane, they were headed to another place. They were not so joyous.
We were apparently now in heaven in the form of a Swiss mountain ski resort.
We were up early the next day to be flown by a catamaran down a lake in a wind tunnel with a bright light at the end.
Tricia’s waterproof camera was stolen. There are pick pockets in heaven.
A bumpy bus through a dark forest then brought us to a clearing where we passed the tests to enter to the other side.
Here we find a beautiful hotel in a valley fit for Angels, Peulla. Sixties music is playing. Our waiter is Manuel. But he no longer has to stoop to avoid being hit on the head by anyone. He also has a full head of hair. This is Manuel’s heaven too.
One of the Spanish passengers informed us our flight number has changed to AR1699 and due to depart at 8 PM and that the plane is the same one from last night.
At 9:30 PM the captain manoeuvred the plane, with us all in it, to the very end of the runway once again. He also revved the engines a couple of times on the way. Not a confidence inspiring start.
He did the U turn and applied full throttle with the entire length of the runway ahead. We got half way down and he didn’t hit the brakes. Are we about to become a burning twisted wreck of metal in the desert?
The plane angled upwards, and then the ground released us. We were in the air, just. After climbing a few hundred feet more all the passengers started applauding as if their team had just scored the winning goal.
When the captain announced we are descending to our destination, Bariloche Airport. Every second of the approach was stretched by the mounting fear. We went through a cloud. The plane jolted and a quarter of the passengers screamed. More long seconds passed. We went through another cloud. The whole plane jolted and rattled. Half the passengers screamed. When the third cloud and jolt came no one screamed, we were clinging on for dear life.
I suspect this was the point we all died somewhere in the desert outside Bariloche. But it might have been on the actual landing which we recall as being smooth and cheered by all even more vigourously. There were hugs and kisses all around as the survivors of flight AR1699 bade farewell to one another.
Others stayed on the plane, they were headed to another place. They were not so joyous.
We were apparently now in heaven in the form of a Swiss mountain ski resort.
We were up early the next day to be flown by a catamaran down a lake in a wind tunnel with a bright light at the end.
Tricia’s waterproof camera was stolen. There are pick pockets in heaven.
A bumpy bus through a dark forest then brought us to a clearing where we passed the tests to enter to the other side.
Here we find a beautiful hotel in a valley fit for Angels, Peulla. Sixties music is playing. Our waiter is Manuel. But he no longer has to stoop to avoid being hit on the head by anyone. He also has a full head of hair. This is Manuel’s heaven too.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Test Take Off Dummies
Aerolineas Argentinas claims to have fixed our plane. However, we have to wait four more hours before boarding. We wonder why?
It will now be 24.5 hours late. We've lost our chance to hike the stunning NP at Bariloche (according to photos) and now have a series of four 1 night stops until Qantas might whisk us back to OZ.
However, we are all expecting to once again serve merely to test their boarding procedures and act as test dummies for the captain's aborted take-off practice pleasure.
If we don't make it, so long and thanks for all the fish.
It will now be 24.5 hours late. We've lost our chance to hike the stunning NP at Bariloche (according to photos) and now have a series of four 1 night stops until Qantas might whisk us back to OZ.
However, we are all expecting to once again serve merely to test their boarding procedures and act as test dummies for the captain's aborted take-off practice pleasure.
If we don't make it, so long and thanks for all the fish.
Red Rock West
The flight zoomed down the runway 1 hour late and then the brakes went on hard, we pulled up just before the end of the runway. We were told a system check was needed. The captain left. All passengers were held captive for an hour. We then got the good news that the problem was fixed and our flight would continue. This time the plane taxied to the very end of the runway and zoomed off just to slam on the brakes again. I’m outa here.
We got no information in English. Some passengers attempted to translate but there was considerable difference in the stories we got.
We followed like sheep to a check-in desk, no idea why. We were given a bit of paper, apparently a hotel reservation. Buses arrived and took us to various hotels around town.
A new oil filter was to be flown in to repair our plane sometime tomorrow. Maybe.
We were fed grossly cheesy pizza and coke. Our room hadn’t been used in 20 years but we were happy to have a warm place to crash instead of a twisted wreck in the desert plains at the end of the airport runway.
I investigated all possible ways to get out of here. There are no other flights tomorrow, there were never going to be. The bus takes 2.5 days to get to our destination. There are no small aircraft operators and no trains. It reminded me of Nicolas Cage trying to get out of Red Rock West but always finishing up right back in town.
We are now sitting in the hotel lobby waiting to see if the plane will be fixed. I hope they do the test take offs before they load us all back on.
We got no information in English. Some passengers attempted to translate but there was considerable difference in the stories we got.
We followed like sheep to a check-in desk, no idea why. We were given a bit of paper, apparently a hotel reservation. Buses arrived and took us to various hotels around town.
A new oil filter was to be flown in to repair our plane sometime tomorrow. Maybe.
We were fed grossly cheesy pizza and coke. Our room hadn’t been used in 20 years but we were happy to have a warm place to crash instead of a twisted wreck in the desert plains at the end of the airport runway.
I investigated all possible ways to get out of here. There are no other flights tomorrow, there were never going to be. The bus takes 2.5 days to get to our destination. There are no small aircraft operators and no trains. It reminded me of Nicolas Cage trying to get out of Red Rock West but always finishing up right back in town.
We are now sitting in the hotel lobby waiting to see if the plane will be fixed. I hope they do the test take offs before they load us all back on.
Perito Moreno Glacier NP
4 Km of metal board walks at many heights with the Glacier so close you feel you can almost touch it. Spectacular.
We were lucky, the earlier heavy rain and lashing cold winds vanished for our 2 hour walk. We had sunshine, lighting up the autumn beech forest leaves and highlighting the blue glacial ice.
We got back just in time for our transfer to the airport and just in time to check in.
We were lucky, the earlier heavy rain and lashing cold winds vanished for our 2 hour walk. We had sunshine, lighting up the autumn beech forest leaves and highlighting the blue glacial ice.
We got back just in time for our transfer to the airport and just in time to check in.
Butch Cassidy’s Hideout
After an interminable day of hardly moving in airline terminals, we finally got to Hotel Sierra Nevada in El Calafate, after dark. The flight was only 3.5 hours.
But the hotel is sublime. It has 2 pc’s nearly always free and free push bikes, but a little more modern than Butch Cassidy’s. It’s the first place we’ve stayed where it’s absolutely quiet while sleeping.
We had rescheduled our excursion to Perito Moreno glacier so we could squeeze in the Mount Fitzroy NP at El Chalten. We had a four hour hike in wondrous beech forest covered mountains with lakes, snow capped peaks, valleys, autumn leaves, wow. My back was fine, even when Tricia turned me into pack mule on our race back so we didn’t miss the bus. It was all ascending on the way in and all descending on the way back. My knees now hurt much more than my back.
We had a brief restroom/restaurant stop at La Leona. It turns out that Butch and Sundance hid out in this very building for a while.
We got back to El Calafate after dark so we still have little idea what this place looks like.
We were exhausted but had to walk to the ATM for more cash. Tricia made a valiant bid to avoid by remarking “You know how challenged you are at the ATM normally, how are you going to be when you’re drunk?”. Each step was torturous for our knees.
But the hotel is sublime. It has 2 pc’s nearly always free and free push bikes, but a little more modern than Butch Cassidy’s. It’s the first place we’ve stayed where it’s absolutely quiet while sleeping.
We had rescheduled our excursion to Perito Moreno glacier so we could squeeze in the Mount Fitzroy NP at El Chalten. We had a four hour hike in wondrous beech forest covered mountains with lakes, snow capped peaks, valleys, autumn leaves, wow. My back was fine, even when Tricia turned me into pack mule on our race back so we didn’t miss the bus. It was all ascending on the way in and all descending on the way back. My knees now hurt much more than my back.
We had a brief restroom/restaurant stop at La Leona. It turns out that Butch and Sundance hid out in this very building for a while.
We got back to El Calafate after dark so we still have little idea what this place looks like.
We were exhausted but had to walk to the ATM for more cash. Tricia made a valiant bid to avoid by remarking “You know how challenged you are at the ATM normally, how are you going to be when you’re drunk?”. Each step was torturous for our knees.
Monkeys
We were awoken to the sound of drums. On the main street of Buenos Aires? Lots of loud hailers and cacophony. Then a gunshot fired, then another. No big deal, just another protest march exacerbating traffic chaos. No arrests. A little gunfire is accepted.
Once the march dissipated we wandered aimlessly around the shops in Buenos Aires just killing time until our airport shuttle.
Then I remembered my flashing watch which needs a new battery so now we had a mission. Oddly, the shops here for a like purpose are all gathered together. On one street we saw 100 or more music shops, on the next hundreds of shops that sell watches, but don’t repair them. However, one did tell me to go another block that way. We did and found a street full of watch repair shops. The one we chose was 1 metre by 2 metres with an old guy in a corner with a wooden desk that had a single drawer. But this was all he needed. A pair of pliers quickly removed the waterproof back and then the waterproof seal on the battery. He tested the battery to confirm it was dead then put a new one in, applied waterproof sealant and secured the back. He noticed my strap pin was rusted and replaced it. All for the princely sum of 25 pesos (6 dollars). I am sure we could have gone to any of the other hundreds of repairers and got exactly the same high quality of service.
There is a simple honesty about this place that I really like.
We chatted a bit with our tour guide of the shuttle bus. It was tricky to properly comprehend her meaning. For instance, at one point she described Buenos Aires as the most European city in South America but its inhabitants (of which she is one) as ‘monkeys’.
I see a modern looking city, with significant air pollution, chaotic but forgiving road traffic, and an emphasis on physical labour over hi-tech. In the main, most people seem happy. They are content monkeys getting along OK, without envy or greed in this concrete jungle called Buenos Aires.
The march location from our room window:
Once the march dissipated we wandered aimlessly around the shops in Buenos Aires just killing time until our airport shuttle.
Then I remembered my flashing watch which needs a new battery so now we had a mission. Oddly, the shops here for a like purpose are all gathered together. On one street we saw 100 or more music shops, on the next hundreds of shops that sell watches, but don’t repair them. However, one did tell me to go another block that way. We did and found a street full of watch repair shops. The one we chose was 1 metre by 2 metres with an old guy in a corner with a wooden desk that had a single drawer. But this was all he needed. A pair of pliers quickly removed the waterproof back and then the waterproof seal on the battery. He tested the battery to confirm it was dead then put a new one in, applied waterproof sealant and secured the back. He noticed my strap pin was rusted and replaced it. All for the princely sum of 25 pesos (6 dollars). I am sure we could have gone to any of the other hundreds of repairers and got exactly the same high quality of service.
There is a simple honesty about this place that I really like.
We chatted a bit with our tour guide of the shuttle bus. It was tricky to properly comprehend her meaning. For instance, at one point she described Buenos Aires as the most European city in South America but its inhabitants (of which she is one) as ‘monkeys’.
I see a modern looking city, with significant air pollution, chaotic but forgiving road traffic, and an emphasis on physical labour over hi-tech. In the main, most people seem happy. They are content monkeys getting along OK, without envy or greed in this concrete jungle called Buenos Aires.
The march location from our room window:
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Oh the Pain
We had to leave. And from the reception with THAT view. Very painful. And the pain in my hip now seems permanent.
During the flight, Tricia developed a burst appendix. Later to be scaled back to a Hernia. And finally to a sprain.
We are back at the Bristol Hotel in Buenos Aires and in a much better room than last time. No peeling wallpaper and it seems nice. I even caught the second half of a Man Utd game but is was a very painful scoreless draw.
We’ll be off to El Calafate tomorrow. Another wasted day in airports.
During the flight, Tricia developed a burst appendix. Later to be scaled back to a Hernia. And finally to a sprain.
We are back at the Bristol Hotel in Buenos Aires and in a much better room than last time. No peeling wallpaper and it seems nice. I even caught the second half of a Man Utd game but is was a very painful scoreless draw.
We’ll be off to El Calafate tomorrow. Another wasted day in airports.
Day Off
All adventurers need a day off sometimes. I had a Swedish/Brazilian massage, drinks and lunch by the pool, and a gentle forest walk and train trip. We were back in time for the pool, drinks and snacks, sunset and moonrise. This is the life. The mozzies thought so too.
Tortured, stunned and panicked
We have been travelling on our European passports to avoid the extra taxes on Australians (a tit-for-tat when Australia imposed such taxes on Argentinians). The European passport also allows us to travel to Brazil without a visa (it takes a couple of months for Australians to get a Brazilian visa).
Our tour bus arrived at 8 AM on schedule to take us to the Brazilian Side of the falls. We were a little groggy and lethargic.
We dragged our weary bones onto the bus and the epic saga began. We drove for 20 minutes and stopped at a tiny shopping centre, a meeting place for tour buses. Other people got on our bus. We waited longer and another bus arrived and the people switched on to ours. We then drove 5 minutes and arrived at Argentina customs on the border with Brazil.
Our guide took all our passports and returned half an hour later. OK to leave Argentina. We drove 5 minutes to Brazilian customs through the apparently dangerous ‘no mans land’. All we saw were a couple of shanty farm houses nestled in a very peaceful valley.
Another half hour sitting in the bus while our guide dealt with customs and we were off.
The Park entrance building was packed. Some of our group did not have pre-paid tickets and had to wait their turn in a half hour queue. We all then boarded our same bus on the other side of the entrance. They should insist everyone on a tourist bus pre-pay and then we could have saved an hour of our lives.
By 10:30 we were at the start of the falls trail and had an hour and a half to explore. Our guide muttered something about her left our right and Noon but I couldn’t take my eyes and camera off the view. The views were even better than from the Sheraton. The drudgery of the previous 2.5 hours evaporated. Oops, where has everyone gone?
Tricia thought the way was left but I remembered the guide talking about our right, We went left. I was a little nervous about this choice. Tricia quickly abandoned me to my own fate. But I didn’t really care that everyone was lost but me, the views were stunning.
After taking all the turns to the right like I was told, I finished up on a walkway leading right to the centre of the falls. I was now drenched, everyone else was still lost, and very content.
On exiting the walkway, there was our guide! I really wasn’t lost. She had sighted Tricia some hours earlier but had no idea where she was now. The queues to the elevator to get back up to ground level were insanely long. I took the 5 minute walking trail instead.
At the top I found Tricia standing by the bus. I went back to the elevator complex and bought her an icy pole and drink. She was kinda talking to me again. She apparently got to the elevator early and since I wasn’t there to point out the walking trail, did the 30 minute queue instead.
On the way back we did a 10 minute helicopter trip over the falls, not really worth the $100 each, nor the near panic of our driver as customs wanted me to sign a form and Tricia to sign two forms and the time of our next trip was approaching fast.
We made it back precisely on time for our ‘grand adventure trip’. It was running on ‘jungle time’ and so we had 10 minutes to kill. We tried to photograph speedy butterflies that rarely stand still for more than half a second. We got a few blurry coloured streaks.
The open top bus that took us through the jungle to the river was bone jarring. Do not do this with a bad back. I still had a bad back.
We stowed all our gear in the waterproof bags, put on a life jacket, and clambered onto the speed boat. We sat at the very front.
It was a nice leisurely sail up the river towards the falls but the driver forgot to stop. We drove right into the waterfall and bumped against the rock wall. Thousands of litres of water were pouring directly onto everyone. Tricia was screaming like a little girl. The boat rebounded from the wall but since the engine was still on kept going through the falls again and again. The driver eventually wrestled control back and was able to turn us around. But then crashed into another waterfall, again and again.
We now understood why there is a sign at the door to the Sheraton, “no wet feet’. Technically we were wet everywhere so we went back to the pool, sipped more drinks, watched the sunset, and used the pool towels to dry off a bit.
Our tour bus arrived at 8 AM on schedule to take us to the Brazilian Side of the falls. We were a little groggy and lethargic.
We dragged our weary bones onto the bus and the epic saga began. We drove for 20 minutes and stopped at a tiny shopping centre, a meeting place for tour buses. Other people got on our bus. We waited longer and another bus arrived and the people switched on to ours. We then drove 5 minutes and arrived at Argentina customs on the border with Brazil.
Our guide took all our passports and returned half an hour later. OK to leave Argentina. We drove 5 minutes to Brazilian customs through the apparently dangerous ‘no mans land’. All we saw were a couple of shanty farm houses nestled in a very peaceful valley.
Another half hour sitting in the bus while our guide dealt with customs and we were off.
The Park entrance building was packed. Some of our group did not have pre-paid tickets and had to wait their turn in a half hour queue. We all then boarded our same bus on the other side of the entrance. They should insist everyone on a tourist bus pre-pay and then we could have saved an hour of our lives.
By 10:30 we were at the start of the falls trail and had an hour and a half to explore. Our guide muttered something about her left our right and Noon but I couldn’t take my eyes and camera off the view. The views were even better than from the Sheraton. The drudgery of the previous 2.5 hours evaporated. Oops, where has everyone gone?
Tricia thought the way was left but I remembered the guide talking about our right, We went left. I was a little nervous about this choice. Tricia quickly abandoned me to my own fate. But I didn’t really care that everyone was lost but me, the views were stunning.
After taking all the turns to the right like I was told, I finished up on a walkway leading right to the centre of the falls. I was now drenched, everyone else was still lost, and very content.
On exiting the walkway, there was our guide! I really wasn’t lost. She had sighted Tricia some hours earlier but had no idea where she was now. The queues to the elevator to get back up to ground level were insanely long. I took the 5 minute walking trail instead.
At the top I found Tricia standing by the bus. I went back to the elevator complex and bought her an icy pole and drink. She was kinda talking to me again. She apparently got to the elevator early and since I wasn’t there to point out the walking trail, did the 30 minute queue instead.
On the way back we did a 10 minute helicopter trip over the falls, not really worth the $100 each, nor the near panic of our driver as customs wanted me to sign a form and Tricia to sign two forms and the time of our next trip was approaching fast.
We made it back precisely on time for our ‘grand adventure trip’. It was running on ‘jungle time’ and so we had 10 minutes to kill. We tried to photograph speedy butterflies that rarely stand still for more than half a second. We got a few blurry coloured streaks.
The open top bus that took us through the jungle to the river was bone jarring. Do not do this with a bad back. I still had a bad back.
We stowed all our gear in the waterproof bags, put on a life jacket, and clambered onto the speed boat. We sat at the very front.
It was a nice leisurely sail up the river towards the falls but the driver forgot to stop. We drove right into the waterfall and bumped against the rock wall. Thousands of litres of water were pouring directly onto everyone. Tricia was screaming like a little girl. The boat rebounded from the wall but since the engine was still on kept going through the falls again and again. The driver eventually wrestled control back and was able to turn us around. But then crashed into another waterfall, again and again.
We now understood why there is a sign at the door to the Sheraton, “no wet feet’. Technically we were wet everywhere so we went back to the pool, sipped more drinks, watched the sunset, and used the pool towels to dry off a bit.
Stunned
We arrived at the Sheraton Hotel just inside (according to Tricia) or just outside the Iguazu National Park otherwise.
Tricia refers to waterfalls as “Water falling off Rocks”. They do not interest her. So this was my 35 year old dream fullfillment.
On walking up to the reception desk at the hotel, we could not focus on the staff. We were staring right through them at the waterfall in the hot steamy jungle beyond.
We were stunned.
We tossed our junk in the room and ran towards the falling water.
Lots of people, soaked to the skin were happily tramping past us. We only had half an hour before the park closed for the night (5 PM) but it was sheer joy.
We then went for a dip in the pool and sipped on drinks while watching the sunset.
Tricia refers to waterfalls as “Water falling off Rocks”. They do not interest her. So this was my 35 year old dream fullfillment.
On walking up to the reception desk at the hotel, we could not focus on the staff. We were staring right through them at the waterfall in the hot steamy jungle beyond.
We were stunned.
We tossed our junk in the room and ran towards the falling water.
Lots of people, soaked to the skin were happily tramping past us. We only had half an hour before the park closed for the night (5 PM) but it was sheer joy.
We then went for a dip in the pool and sipped on drinks while watching the sunset.
Friday, April 15, 2011
OVER THE MOON!!!!
Tricia is dancing in the streets of Buenos Aries because we have a new Aussie in our midst.
Congratulations Claudia and Kerry ;-)))))
Congratulations Claudia and Kerry ;-)))))
Voyage Summary
Overall, the experiences were fantastic. However, we had far too many days “at sea” which is a peculiarity of the trip we chose. I recommend an 11-16 day trip, if possible including South Georgia Island (which we missed out on).
The Polar Pioneer is a great ship to do Polar trips. Portholes are over-rated. Minimise the rock n roll by going for a cabin on a lower level and towards the front of the ship. The Russian crew are very friendly, competent and efficient. Our maid turned out to be an excellent Physio and our waitress a Doctor (wages are higher on the ship than in their normal professions back in Russia!). The Bridge is open to passengers 24x7. Our tour guides were excellent, especially Dr Gary Miller who did many presentations on Antarctic wildlife and on his own research into diseases of Emperor penguins. David Burren also deserves a special mention for his tireless efforts to inform and educate on anything photographic. He is seriously challenged when it comes to card games so play for big stakes and your trip could be free.
The Polar Pioneer is a great ship to do Polar trips. Portholes are over-rated. Minimise the rock n roll by going for a cabin on a lower level and towards the front of the ship. The Russian crew are very friendly, competent and efficient. Our maid turned out to be an excellent Physio and our waitress a Doctor (wages are higher on the ship than in their normal professions back in Russia!). The Bridge is open to passengers 24x7. Our tour guides were excellent, especially Dr Gary Miller who did many presentations on Antarctic wildlife and on his own research into diseases of Emperor penguins. David Burren also deserves a special mention for his tireless efforts to inform and educate on anything photographic. He is seriously challenged when it comes to card games so play for big stakes and your trip could be free.
Three days of Hell
Our ship adventure is now over but we face a three day sail to Mar Del Plata, and the seas are heavy again.
A third of the passengers are sick of being seasick, the rest are just sick of being at sea.
A third of the passengers are sick of being seasick, the rest are just sick of being at sea.
Orcas v Seal Pups – Round 2
This was organised by a local tour operator. The bus was clean and dust free. There was light rain. Our guide spoke excellent English but very poor Scottish/Australian and couldn’t understand any of Tricia’s questions.
The town is like Whyalla, but without any hills. It is also an Aluminium smelter. It imports its raw materials from Australia, its power from 500 Km away, and its water from 400 Km away. Well located, not.
The environs are just like the rest of the east coast of Patagonia, gravel pit.
However, this bus trip was smooth and uneventful.
We got to Punta Norte at low tide. The least likely time to see any Orca. And we are told we will be leaving to go to other dreary sites of no interest before the viewing window starts. However, our leader Amanda (who did survive the morning of the long knives and forks), negotiated to drop the other visits and stay here for the whole day.
Once again the Armadillos and Grey Fox in the car park created much entertainment. Especially when I (accidentally) held chocolate cake in the same hand as my camera to get some low angle shots. Three armadillos charged and fought to get me first.
A couple of hours later we all start to take up prime positions (based on yesterdays viewing). After an hour and half, and only half and hour until we must leave, it looks like we shouldn’t have bothered hanging around. But then David yells fin!
It’s in the same place as our first sighting yesterday, but there are no seal pups over there today, only in the main colony just to our right. Maybe they’ll attack with perfect light behind us?
The pod of 5 or 6 pass the headland and enter the narrow channel right in front of us. 10,000 clicks later they head away from the beach (and the seal colony) and then do a 180 degree turn. They are heading right for the juicy seal pups! Everyone is clicking furiously as they close. This could be it, seal pup blood, perfectly lit flowing from a freshly slit throat. But no, they do another 180 and head out of the channel to the deep sea and with a “sucked you in” tail slap they are gone.
Our entire group was happy, even the ones that were turning away when it seemed one of those cute little pups may be torn to shreds.
We got back to the ship just in time to avoid any late berthing penalties.
The town is like Whyalla, but without any hills. It is also an Aluminium smelter. It imports its raw materials from Australia, its power from 500 Km away, and its water from 400 Km away. Well located, not.
The environs are just like the rest of the east coast of Patagonia, gravel pit.
However, this bus trip was smooth and uneventful.
We got to Punta Norte at low tide. The least likely time to see any Orca. And we are told we will be leaving to go to other dreary sites of no interest before the viewing window starts. However, our leader Amanda (who did survive the morning of the long knives and forks), negotiated to drop the other visits and stay here for the whole day.
Once again the Armadillos and Grey Fox in the car park created much entertainment. Especially when I (accidentally) held chocolate cake in the same hand as my camera to get some low angle shots. Three armadillos charged and fought to get me first.
A couple of hours later we all start to take up prime positions (based on yesterdays viewing). After an hour and half, and only half and hour until we must leave, it looks like we shouldn’t have bothered hanging around. But then David yells fin!
It’s in the same place as our first sighting yesterday, but there are no seal pups over there today, only in the main colony just to our right. Maybe they’ll attack with perfect light behind us?
The pod of 5 or 6 pass the headland and enter the narrow channel right in front of us. 10,000 clicks later they head away from the beach (and the seal colony) and then do a 180 degree turn. They are heading right for the juicy seal pups! Everyone is clicking furiously as they close. This could be it, seal pup blood, perfectly lit flowing from a freshly slit throat. But no, they do another 180 and head out of the channel to the deep sea and with a “sucked you in” tail slap they are gone.
Our entire group was happy, even the ones that were turning away when it seemed one of those cute little pups may be torn to shreds.
We got back to the ship just in time to avoid any late berthing penalties.
Restaurant Escapades
Exhilarated from the Orcas we heeded the Lonely Planet recommendation for a local restaurant.
They welcomed us in slightly early at 8 PM and it was immediately obvious they spoke no English at all. The menu was also purely Spanish.
Luckily, David’s iPhone app uses its camera to translate for us.
I ordered “maniac wire”. The other orders were similar, “bloody slab”, “chicken concrete”, “murder tomato”.
However, I desperately needed the loo for numero duos. There was no paper, nor in the womens loo. I asked the waitress for toilet paper. She reluctantly followed my gestures and then confusedly showed me the ample supply of paper towels. I forced her back deeper into the room, she became nervous. I pointed at the empty toilet roll holder. She was relieved and left to obtain a roll, came back, installed it, and ran off. Then I noticed there was no flush button. There wasn’t a top to the cistern either. There was a wooden rod in one corner of the room but I couldn’t figure out anyway to make this beast flush.
I took my roll and went to the womens loo. It has a top and a flusher, phew! I took a huge dump, cleaned up and pressed the flusher, nothing, nada, there was no way to flush this either. I draped a couple of clean pieces of paper over the steamy mess and sneaked out. No way was I about to try to explain to our waitress what was now awaiting her other guests. But I did have to warn off present company. Tricia was confident that I was merely incompetent and that she would be able to flush. After 10 minutes of failed attempts, she returned but was unable to eat her meal.
They welcomed us in slightly early at 8 PM and it was immediately obvious they spoke no English at all. The menu was also purely Spanish.
Luckily, David’s iPhone app uses its camera to translate for us.
I ordered “maniac wire”. The other orders were similar, “bloody slab”, “chicken concrete”, “murder tomato”.
However, I desperately needed the loo for numero duos. There was no paper, nor in the womens loo. I asked the waitress for toilet paper. She reluctantly followed my gestures and then confusedly showed me the ample supply of paper towels. I forced her back deeper into the room, she became nervous. I pointed at the empty toilet roll holder. She was relieved and left to obtain a roll, came back, installed it, and ran off. Then I noticed there was no flush button. There wasn’t a top to the cistern either. There was a wooden rod in one corner of the room but I couldn’t figure out anyway to make this beast flush.
I took my roll and went to the womens loo. It has a top and a flusher, phew! I took a huge dump, cleaned up and pressed the flusher, nothing, nada, there was no way to flush this either. I draped a couple of clean pieces of paper over the steamy mess and sneaked out. No way was I about to try to explain to our waitress what was now awaiting her other guests. But I did have to warn off present company. Tricia was confident that I was merely incompetent and that she would be able to flush. After 10 minutes of failed attempts, she returned but was unable to eat her meal.
Orcas 1, Seal pups –1
After sailing 400Km north we berthed at Puerto Madryn. It looks like a proper city from the pier. In fact Buenos Arians treat it like Ibiza. They’ve never seen Ibiza. Just outside town its gravel countryside for even more hundreds of kilometres in every direction.
We wandered along the main street on a mission, to find a hire car and get outa here. Our two compadres rejected the first and closest car hire. As we trudged further away in search of another, Tricia was asking how we would ever get the last 20 minutes of our lives back.
Our compadres sneered at the next one, it was Greek, so on we trudged. More sarcasm from Tricia.
The third one offered us a cheaper deal on a four door (not a three door golf as at the first place) and despite the severely cracked (in multiple places) windscreen, the “engine fault” light that was mostly always on, and the solid coating of dust on the interior (everything), we relented to Tricia and grabbed it.
We were headed for Punta Norte, haven of the Orcas. A 170Km trip down a very dusty and bumpy road. But first we had to get supplies from the supermarket. Bread, cheese, ham, fruit, water, and a couple of sun hats for me and Tricia. The only hats available cost more than our entire food bill and were of course the Argentinian national flag colours, with a zipper pocket on one side, classy!
Back on the road, the bumps quickly stirred up all that dust embedded in the seats, carpets, roof and door linings creating a billowing dust storm bringing tears to our eyes and near zero visibility. We had to open the windows.
Our chauffeur, David, is a big guy. When Tricia found she only had six inches of leg room sitting behind him she exclaimed that she was glad we hadn’t taken the golf.
David kept veering severely to the right side of the road. Drifting, drifting, DRIFTING!! I screamed. We don’t have any “roll” cover because it is too frequently the cause of fatalities on Argentinian roads. There are no lane markings, no road edges, just a vertical drop into a ditch a metre or so deep.
When our front seat co-pilot started moving her visor around I could no longer see the edge. OMG, get your arm out of my way, I can’t see when we’re all going to die!
It didn’t help that they kept spotting critters along the way. EYES FRONT, HANDS ON THE WHEEL, STOP TRYING TO PHOTOGRAPH WHILE DRIVING, AAAARRRRGGGGHHH, whimper.
We somehow got to our destination 2 hours before high tide, perfect. The seal pups like to frolic on the beach. The Orcas like to swim directly at them and hopefully grab one whilst beaching themselves, and then wriggle back to sea. They need near high tide for this stunt.
In the car park there were armadillos scuttling about all over place, also a very curios grey fox. Good start!
We had waited an hour and half in baking sun and severe sand blasts hoping to see the fabled Orca beaching eating seal pup event. Nothing.
We all had our super zooms focussed on the group of seals right in front of us and slightly off to our right, a perfect angle with the sun behind.
Its not going to happen, not even a hint of anything bigger than a seal.
Then, all the people at the high lookout point were charging down the hill at us. We know what this must mean and wheel around to our left. Orca fins, five of them, and ridiculously close to shore. They are a long way from our group of seals, here they come.
But no, they wheel around and start beaching almost out of sight. There must be seal pups around that headland we couldn’t see. Our little corner at the end of the path is now jammed with bodies and cameras clicking furiously. I got a couple of shots through peoples arm pits but our David is a Goliath and he was on the perfect corner, his years of training had paid off. He got off hundreds of shots which could be played back quickly like a movie of the whole joyous/macabre event.
The seal pup they targeted appeared briefly to have escaped, but the Orcas were just fooling around a little to make it interesting for us. After two minutes of action they then headed out to sea to rip up their spoils.
We hung around another hour or so hoping they would come back for the tantalisingly nice seal pups in front of us. They did, but just to saunter back around the headland from where they originally came, leaving our seal pups unharmed. We are coming back tomorrow, we lust for more seal pup deaths, er?
We wandered along the main street on a mission, to find a hire car and get outa here. Our two compadres rejected the first and closest car hire. As we trudged further away in search of another, Tricia was asking how we would ever get the last 20 minutes of our lives back.
Our compadres sneered at the next one, it was Greek, so on we trudged. More sarcasm from Tricia.
The third one offered us a cheaper deal on a four door (not a three door golf as at the first place) and despite the severely cracked (in multiple places) windscreen, the “engine fault” light that was mostly always on, and the solid coating of dust on the interior (everything), we relented to Tricia and grabbed it.
We were headed for Punta Norte, haven of the Orcas. A 170Km trip down a very dusty and bumpy road. But first we had to get supplies from the supermarket. Bread, cheese, ham, fruit, water, and a couple of sun hats for me and Tricia. The only hats available cost more than our entire food bill and were of course the Argentinian national flag colours, with a zipper pocket on one side, classy!
Back on the road, the bumps quickly stirred up all that dust embedded in the seats, carpets, roof and door linings creating a billowing dust storm bringing tears to our eyes and near zero visibility. We had to open the windows.
Our chauffeur, David, is a big guy. When Tricia found she only had six inches of leg room sitting behind him she exclaimed that she was glad we hadn’t taken the golf.
David kept veering severely to the right side of the road. Drifting, drifting, DRIFTING!! I screamed. We don’t have any “roll” cover because it is too frequently the cause of fatalities on Argentinian roads. There are no lane markings, no road edges, just a vertical drop into a ditch a metre or so deep.
When our front seat co-pilot started moving her visor around I could no longer see the edge. OMG, get your arm out of my way, I can’t see when we’re all going to die!
It didn’t help that they kept spotting critters along the way. EYES FRONT, HANDS ON THE WHEEL, STOP TRYING TO PHOTOGRAPH WHILE DRIVING, AAAARRRRGGGGHHH, whimper.
We somehow got to our destination 2 hours before high tide, perfect. The seal pups like to frolic on the beach. The Orcas like to swim directly at them and hopefully grab one whilst beaching themselves, and then wriggle back to sea. They need near high tide for this stunt.
In the car park there were armadillos scuttling about all over place, also a very curios grey fox. Good start!
We had waited an hour and half in baking sun and severe sand blasts hoping to see the fabled Orca beaching eating seal pup event. Nothing.
We all had our super zooms focussed on the group of seals right in front of us and slightly off to our right, a perfect angle with the sun behind.
Its not going to happen, not even a hint of anything bigger than a seal.
Then, all the people at the high lookout point were charging down the hill at us. We know what this must mean and wheel around to our left. Orca fins, five of them, and ridiculously close to shore. They are a long way from our group of seals, here they come.
But no, they wheel around and start beaching almost out of sight. There must be seal pups around that headland we couldn’t see. Our little corner at the end of the path is now jammed with bodies and cameras clicking furiously. I got a couple of shots through peoples arm pits but our David is a Goliath and he was on the perfect corner, his years of training had paid off. He got off hundreds of shots which could be played back quickly like a movie of the whole joyous/macabre event.
The seal pup they targeted appeared briefly to have escaped, but the Orcas were just fooling around a little to make it interesting for us. After two minutes of action they then headed out to sea to rip up their spoils.
We hung around another hour or so hoping they would come back for the tantalisingly nice seal pups in front of us. They did, but just to saunter back around the headland from where they originally came, leaving our seal pups unharmed. We are coming back tomorrow, we lust for more seal pup deaths, er?
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