Apr 2008

Dear diary,

It's raining cats and dogs and we're on a packed bus heading to Puerto Natales in Chile. I'm sitting next to an Israeli called David and he's quite nice, but unfortunately snores rather loudly, and between snores I can hear his ipod playing unidentifiable, non the less irritating music. The bus is also full of older travellers (60+??). I mean not your average 20 something gringo. I'm sitting right at the back of the bus, right next to the loo. I had planned never to do this again, but I literally got the second last seat on the bus. David got the last one. Anyway the loo is being used every bloody 5 minutes (by the oldies mostly) and the door catch is very stiff. There is a lot of timid yanking. ie hard yanking, which you don't want to make obvious. There are some funny incidents with people flying down the centre isle, after a really hard pull...Danny lends me his ipod so I try to drown everything in the biggest selection of good house music ever on an ipod. I'm suitably impressed.

When we eventually get to the border there is a whole big kerfuffle about what we need to take through into the customs building. We're told that 'yes indeed', the backpacks have to come off, drat!. So we all queue and wait nearly 2 hours going though customs. It's interesting how Chile is immediately different to Argentina. The Argentinian passport stamp is a smudgy black, rather messy affair. While the Chilean one is a very neat click clack (you know the kind of stamp where the ink is attached to the stamp and the stampy bit does a 180 before it hits the page), anyway it's fascinating. I accidentally smuggle a jar of olives through.

Then back on the bus, we're in Chile! Oh but it's still raining. Puerto Natales looks like an outback town in the butt end of nowhere, or as Alesha (who we meet at the hostel) puts it, 'butt fuck nowhere'. Puerto Natales is on a grid with single story houses. It's wet, and cold, and grey. We get off the bus and find that our bags have been taken off the bus, and thrown onto the road or mini river, luckily they're waterproofish...we donne the wet packs and head in the direction of Kaweskar hostel which Danny has booked us into.
There are hundreds of stray dogs in Puerto Natales. There have been throughout Argentina. There were also ones in Brazil, but there seem to be more in Argentina. We wade up the street and wet dogs prowl the curbs, and look generally lost and forlorn (actually we also look a bit lost and forlorn). After about 6 blocks we find what looks like our hostel. We pile in through the door. It's warm and toasty in the hostel and we all remove our packs and drip in the lobby. We are greeted by a rather strange man, who is the hostel owner called Omar. He looks Russian (don't ask me why) and has a dog called Ajax. I wonder if he supports the Dutch team, so I ask and am told aggressively 'no'!! Alright then...We are shown to our room and chill. We decide that we will start the trek tomorrow. We all agree, then we look at the weather. Fuck...camping in this weather? No, we're determined were going to do it... We get ourselves together and head off into town to get supplies and go to the 3pm trek talk at Erratic Rock hostel round the corner. The talk is super useful and is given by a American who speaks so fast he does a 2 hour talk in 1 hour. Then off to the shops to buy food and supplies.

Our meal plan for 4 days...

Cupa soup breakfast (easier than oates and lighter?!).
Chewy oat bar x 2 (per day) for each person.
Biscuits 2 packs per day (between 4 people)
2 bags of fruit and nuts.
Pasta dinner (penne and bows)

Omar continues to behave in a strange way, He is really abrupt and gets really angry. Then changes, and is all nice as pie. We return from our errands and find the hostel has filled with gringos who've just returned from their trek. There is doom and gloom and smelly wet camping stuff everywhere. Our 6 bed dorm quickly changes into an 8 bed dorm. Because Omar has over booked. Erratic Rock hostel seemed to be run like clockwork and very efficient. Our hostel is just the opposite, erratic in fact. We remember to check that we are definitely booked in with Omar before we head off. The tales from the trek do nothing to inspire confidence on our mission. Everyone has hated it. It's snowed on the mountain and everyone was wet, cold and blistered (feet). I pop out to get something for dinner and see a dead dog lying on the pavement, eyes wide open. That's really about it for me, maybe it really did rain dogs... I cant get the vision of it out of my mind. Natales is a smelly, wet, dead dog town. In the chaos of our room we try to pack for the trek. This means everything is unpacked and then re packed. Erratic Rock has said to pack everything in bin liners to keep it from getting wet. There are about 100 black bin liners around the room with different piles of stuff in them. We are so disorganised that I think it takes about 2 hours to pack. Omar is now walking round trying to be helpful with a head torch on. Vikki and I are asked what our trek plan is. We explain, he really bollocks us. Gets really angry (in Spanish) and then tells us what we should be doing (exactly what we've just told him!). We're confused and decide Omar is completely mad or very stoned. We are four on the trek now as we have enlisted Alesha from Melbourne. I will be sharing the tent with her. I head to bed and lie in the darkness. Surrounded by strangers; dead dogs, snow and blisters fill my mind, the rain is pouring outside and think that quite possibly, doing this trek is the last thing on earth I want to do. Someone farts, there's a full on dorm giggle, and then somehow I fall asleep on the mattress which is plastic...in case of water bottle spillage i suppose?

I awake to various boys getting out of various girls dorm bunk beds. I make it to the shower which is in a lean to against the back of the hostel, and definitely fails all health and safety standards. The walls and the ceiling move while in the shower? The loo steams and there's no mirror. Great. On exiting the shower I run into a pretty blond girl whom I spoke to briefly the night before. Her face is smashed and bloody, and her front tooth is broken. She looks a mess. She's returned form the 5 day W trek in Torres unscathed, and then went out on a bender last night and was given a drunken piggy back in the rain. She was dropped on her face. Maybe its a good thing there's no mirror. I can feel her pain and I'm really upset about it.

The weather has actually improved and its only drizzling... We get on the bus at 7.30 after breakfast is served at 7.25 by crazy Omar with me using the new international symbol for an egg (me holding my thumb and forefinger apart as if i was holding an egg between them, he had no idea what I was talking about). . and after trying to pay all morning, Omar lets us pay at 7.29. We're all feeling quite excited but non of us say so...?? Incredibly the weather changes during the bus ride and Torres really does have a micro climate.

DAY 1
Pitch tents.
3.5 hour walk.
Glacier Grey.
Quick wee behind rock.
Rain and sun.
Biscuits and chewy bars.
Cook dinner in campsite kitchen (horrible)
Pisco sours and beers in the Refugio bar (nice)
First night in tent OK except for the spider.
I set alarm for 6am!?.

DAY 2
The alarm goes off and it's dark and cold and we're in a tent.
Why the fuck did we decide to set the alarm for 6am?! I ask Alesha...who knows???! What fools, what were we thinking? We go back to sleep. Vikki and Danny giggle to each other in the tent next door, having heard our conversation and agreeing with it...
Beautiful rainbow morning.
Cupa soup for breakfast and a cereal bar. Quite good.
Pack up tents at about 9ish and head off trekking by 10.
3 hours trekking to camp Italiano (which is in a damp dark wood).
Set up camp on least damp slope we can find.
3 hour trek up to see 'view'.
Meet James and Dan (Alesha met them in BA), half way up, who inform us that the Refugio 1.5 hours walk from Camp Italiano is open and serving food and beer.
Get back to camp, take down the tents and head to the refugio.
The Refugio campsite is much nicer, plus we don't have as far to walk on the last day.
The Refugio is very expensive and because we have an agreed budget we decide that its delicious pasta again.
After another delicious pasta dinner (?) we agree were allowed one beer each at the Refugio.
It's warm and cosy in the Refugio.
As we sit down we see the chefs pulling fresh loaves of bread out the oven, it's too much, we have to buy one. The most expensive bread ever ($5) ish...the best bread ever with loads of butter.
Lots of giggling with James, Dan, Dom and Ewan Nice wholesome English boys.
We head to bed.
My sleeping outfit: two pairs socks, thermal long johns, thermal long sleeved top, pyjama bottoms, merino wool top, thermal gloves, balaclava, silk sleep sheet, sleeping bag with drawstring pulled tight around my head.
In the middle of the night I'm awoken by a very loud rat outside the tent. It's making a really odd noise. I freak then think oh well I'm safe in the tent, there's no food outside, and I can't actually move anyway.

DAY 3
I wake up and it's a glorious day! The rat has eaten the plastic label on my water bottle, how strange?
Vikki makes our morning cupa soup out of plastic cups, yuk...
Then pack up the tents, only to discover that the rat has eaten through the tent!! It's eaten a hole about as big as a 50p piece right through the base layer of the tent AND it's eaten all our bloody fruit and nut, well all the nuts. Then discarded the nice chunks of mango and coconut. We're devastated. That was obviously the noise I could hear. Cheeky fucking monkey, sorry rat!
We set off and go in the wrong direction adding at least 30mins on the an already long day. Nice view of the lake though!
We all lose our senses of humour at least once in the next 7 hours...
We finally make it to Camp Torres. Ive never been so happy to get to a camp...I'm dead.
Everyone is famished so its decided to pool all the resources to make a feast!

The feast cooked on two gas stoves (until one runs out):

Bowl/cup of oats with about half a teaspoon of sugar.
Cup asparagus packet soup
Cup lentil and bacon soup (a bit of grit added in)
Small plate penne alla arrabiata (I kid you not)
Two fags.
Water from stream.
Choc biscuit.

We proceed to talk about about what our favorite foods are for two hours whilst cooking, it's like we're all possessed.

It's cold, there's no alcohol, I'm full, so decide to head to bed. God I'm exciting. Oh yeah and I'm exhausted AND we really do have to get up a 6am to catch the blasted sunrise.

DAY 4
The alarm goes off at 6am, but I'm already awake. Really excited!!
Everything is packed up and we get ready to climb up to the Torres.
Sleeping bag joins me.
We set off in a group of about 10 people.
We all get spilt up and I end up on my own scaling boulders bigger than me in the dark (I have my head torch on)...It's crazy and I don't know how no one got injured.
I finally make it and luckily its still dark.
We bed down for the morning, I get into my sleeping bag with my shoes on...(Sorry Omar!)
10 people on a sloping rock looking at some dark rocks, which get lighter and lighter as the sun rises.
Crazy Canadians cook porridge on the rock.
Stunning! Well worth the schlep!
On heading back down, I see what I climbed up in the dark, and realize that if id seen what I was doing earlier, I'd never have done it.
Back down, pack up tent, no food...
2.5 hours down to the bottom.
Vikki and I get left by the fast crew (ie they're hungrier than us, because we've eaten all the food last night)
Down we go.
Wet finally get to the bottom after about 4 false 'this has to be the last bit'...
All we can think about is fat coke and chocolate.
We drink the best coke ever and eat dairy milk and a dulche du leche sandwich.
Not one blister thanks to cool Merrel walking shoes!
We did it!!!

We all wait for the bus to collect us to take us back to Omar and the mad house. I dont think I've ever been so happy to see a hostel ever. I even give Omar a hello kiss on the cheek when we get there. Puerto Natales is sunny and actually quite pretty. Nice hot shower and some Easter eggs (it's Easter Sunday). The girls get tarted up for a night on the town, we remind ourselves that no one is to have any piggy backs at all. We head out for dinner and meet in a bar for some towers of beer first. Coincidentally the English boys are all staying with us at the hostel...a really really good night!

We're booked on a bus to Rio Gallegos in Argentina the following day. So the following morning Vikki, Danny and myself head there with rather sore heads, but luckily our faces intact.

The list:

The trek is called the 'W' because you walk in a w shape!
Danny's ripped waterproof trousers (crotch)
Vikki and I both falling in the river.
My outfit (thermal long johns, combat shorts, big white trekking socks, flip flops, fleece and hat).
James ate all his ration of biscuits on the first day.
The tightrope walking Refugio warden, who fell off legs either side of the rope, ow!
The late night Israeli argument, fisty cuffs.
Darth at the Torres.

Don't miss anyone she lied.

xxxxxx

Here goes the proper lonesome blog, no sign of M or our Shenanigans.

So I leave BA on my own, tired but ok and get on a 22 hour bus to Bariloche. It's on the east side of Argentina next to the Andes. I'm starving hungry and assume that like the last bus I got in Argentina, there will be food served. After three hours though there is no sign of any food, so I give up hoping and settle into a desperately needed slumber (seat doesn't recline very much = uncomfy). Ipod, eye mask, neck pillow and jumper, lent from my neighbour. A very pleasant BA lawyer. I'm then nudged (11.30pm) to be told that there is some food being offered. The food is being served in a restaurant we've stopped at. This is very odd. We all file into the restaurant, which is empty except for us. There are long tables all set for us dining hall fashion. There's literally every age and type of person you can imagine. I sit on a table with the lawyer, some Peruvian looking men and a real Gaucho (in jodpur trouser things and long boots), two old ladies (who don't stop talking) and a young couple. Dinner is chicken and rice. Everyone is given a plate. It's not bad, but not good either. Then for desert there is Argentine equivalent of Angel Delight. I head back to the bus and slip into a delicious sleep (a lie of course, I'm on a f*cking bus for 22 hours for Christ's sake, on seats which don't recline, the air cons on max, so its about minus 10 degrees and the lawyer has taken his sweater back!)...

I arrive in Bariloche somewhat walking dead, but ok. I am wowed by the surroundings. It's beautiful, the lake is deep blue and looks like it has diamond encrusted ripples. I'm entranced. It's so bright and the air is so pure. I forget the past 24 hours and feel revived. I've checked into a hostel which is fine, but I quickly decide that don't really like. I'm feeling quite weird being without M and can't gel with anyone...I'm feeling weird, but everyone at the hostel really is weird. I book a days riding on an Argentinian Estancia for the following day and decide to check out at the same time. I actually end up meeting a sweet Canadian girl who sleeps in my dorm that evening, but too late I'm off the next day. In the morning I pack up my stuff and leave it in the reception of the hostel to collect after riding. The riding is great and I feel like John Wayne, and feel a bit like John Wayne for the next few days, Owe! We don't wear hats which feels a bit odd but good because it's so hot (sorry Roma!). There are some Aussie guys on the trek (which is all day with lunch in between). They are hilarious. They arrive in shorts. Then one gets on the horse the wrong side and then the horse starts walking around with the guy trying to look like he's in control. There are also some Aussie girls. One of whom says "are you doing that?, or is the horse taking you for a ride?" " Oz boy pipes up "no I'm doing it!", then he says: "They're pretty tame these horses, ay?" , "What do you mean?", she says, "Well they're really quiet, they're not naying or bucking or anything!". I wish I had a photo of him being 'in control' of the horse, it was fucking funny. So off we trot. The Aussie girls are actually with two Italian boys. I sort of keep myself to myself and just eavesdrop on all the conversations. The Italians really don't speak very good English. But there is some serious flirting going on, on horse back. I really have to try not to laugh my head off. It's painful. I end up hanging with the gaucho. Of course you do Esther! A nice Argentinian gaucho with olive skin who handles a horse like I imagine he would a woman (can I say that? well I just did!) Anyway he has me cantering and galloping all over the estancia, which is exhilarating! We stop for lunch at about 2pm. Parilla is served (basically meat off an open fire barbecue), with salad and potatoes. Delicious! We re-saddle after lunch and some lama petting.

The second hostel is much nicer. The people look normal and are my cup of matte. After a great day out asking people to take photos of me on my own in front of views and things (well two photos). I return to the hostel cook dinner, and meet some really cool Kiwi girls. We all sit at a big table and gas about travelling. The favorite traveller conversation. Two Dutch girls are spilling the beans about Columbia and how fantastic it is. I want to go. The next day I join the Kiwis on their mountain bike tour round the lake. We get up and I head off to book my bus to El Calafate. Then meet back at the hostel to head up to to bike hire place. A fab afternoon cycling round the lakes. It's drop dead beautiful here. Please check out Lao Lao Hotel. We cycle past this and I have to say I'd quite like to be staying there, oh dreams! But how nice to appreciate luxury again. Our hostel is perfect and I actually wouldn't want it any other way... (oh ok just one night!) What am i saying Ive just spent half a week in Brendan's luxury apartment??!

The next day I get the bus to El Calafate which is, wait for it...36 hours!!? On a dirt track road called Routa 40. What am i doing? I mooch about Bariloche and have a chilled lunch, and also find a Lan ticket office. I have decided that Im going back to Rio and need to move flights about. 'm plotting and have a plan up my sleeves. I then head to the bus station and wait for the bus. I spot two English couples who will be on the same bus. We soo get talking, being a bus for that long you cant help it! So we set off at 9pm on the Friday night. Saturday morning I wake up somewhere in Patagonia to a wonderful sunrise. I jump off the bus for a pee and to buy something to eat. Being in Argentina means there are a number of options on the buying of comestibles. Pastry with cheese, pastry with mince meat (empanadas) or crisps or biscuits. Aargh no fruit anywhere to be seen! Only sweetened fruit juice (no fresh) and bread, pastry things. Back on the bus. I have to say it goes quite quickly, I sort of drift in and out of consciousness and listening to ipod or reading means time goes quite quick. Its sunset again in no time, which means just one more night till we arrive in El Calafate. I have two seats to myself which is great...before you know it we arrive.

It's not my intention to follow the two English couples, but I storm off on my lonesome only to meet them further down the road at the cash point. We're all heading to the same place! I'm quite surprised that they're friendly with me because I'm wearing my skinnyish jeans with my walking boots and a north face waterproof. I'm a DORK. I mention this point to Danny a few weeks later and he agrees that he wasnt sure whay they talked to me! We check in and head off for some much needed food and drinks. We can't actually get in the rooms etc till after 2pm. Once fed and watered we head back to the hostel for some personal TLC, ie a shower and clean clothes. Oh the joy of clean things. I meet a very nice German boy in my dorm who takes me to a nature reserve in the afternoon and helps me sort out the trip to the glacier the next day. Accidentally I wear flip flops to walk round a really muddy reserve...I have a looming shoe crisis.

Up at the crack of dawn to visit the Perito Moreno glacier. Incredible. It's like a big blue lemon meringue pie floating on a blue milk lake. The colours are warped. I hope you like the photos. We also do a mini crampon trek on the glacier which is loads of fun. Especially when a french guy who's all kitted out with his own gear (all the gear no idea!) goes off on his own. Is then spotted by our guide and told off so badly that it feels like we're at school. He's marched off and told he has to stay behind the guide at all times. This guy is about 45! What a twat.

We all head out for Parilla in the evening, wine, steak and well that's it actually. We're served by a one eyed waiter in a ill fitting black suite, who looks like he should be from the Sopranos. Vikki, Danny, Paul and Nicki have asked me to join them doing the Torres trek in Chile. They are very cool! We take a bus in the morning to Puerto Natales in Chile. It's raining cats and dogs and the thought of doing a 5 day trek camping isnt really appealing...

Notes/memories:

Vikki's sea sick story (a woman being sick in her diving mask whilst scuba diving!)
Naked sky diving (the guys we met in Rio, one of whom did this professionally)
The mullet/friar tuck look also sported a medallion and black leather slip ones with white socks and shorts.
This blog is getting harder to write by the day, no crack of the whip by M.
The shoe situation. It's walking boots everywhere. I hate them (although they do me proud later...)
It's getting cold and sleeping under duvets again.

xxxxx