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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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.