Argentina, neither Buenos Aires nor Patagonia

Puerto Madryn was not entirely unlike being in Wales but we couldn't afford the exotic tea and "Welsh cake" here.  Having escaped the southern chill and snow, we rented bikes and journeyed out along the coast

as far as a sea lion reserve, where through looking pathetic we managed to get in for the nationals admission rate.  It is a few months past birthing season so there are several illegally cute young babies tottering around, but slightly fewer loud fat males making a nuisance of themselves, though those that remained seemed to be trying to be extra obnoxious to compensate or something.*

There was a surprising amount of wildlife around, many nesting shags and an amazing grey hawk eating a little furry thing that we got really close to.

The cycling was an enjoyable change of pace and we really enjoyed not having to wear all our clothes at once.  With our hosts we also had tasty platters of meat and a herby alcohol called fernet that is really big in Argentina, though we think it might be because it is like an alcoholic yerbamate.  When we hitched north we entered the Pampas which are Holland-like in flatness though probably France in scale and where a lot of the beef, wine and soya Europeans consume is grown.  We were lucky and made it all the way to Córdoba in two days, being fed more grilled meat and wine** along the way.

Córdoba is the second largest city in Argentina, though like Guadalajara in Mexico, there is a BIG gap between first and second.  Córdoba has just over one million people next to Buenos Airies with 16-17 million.  Tired of not being taken seriously, Córdoba decided to mark the bicentenary of Argentine independence by building a lighthouse.  If that doesn't seem stupid in and of itself, the city is located 500 miles from the sea.

Just a tourist attraction we are told.  But we prefer to think some town planner delcared it essential and ever since has been insisting that he was right because since it was built, not one ship has run aground in Córdoba.  Which is true.

Aside from that we've been taking it very chill.  Our plans to take the super-cheap train have been scuppered but we hope to be able to catch one on Sunday from Rosario to Buenos Aires.  In the city we have been taking advantage of cooking facilties to make cooked picnics and even cottage pie for dinner one night as an example of British cooking for our host.  When shopping for mince, we couldn't see it anywhere and eventually asked the butcher in the supermarket if there was a half-kilo of mince.  "Sure," he said, chopped off a chunk of prime loin steak and minced it there and then.  We were impressed.

People might have seen in the news last week that the last military dictator of Argentina, Jorge Videla has died.  He has been in prision since 2008 along with many others responsible for the "Dirty War" in which many tens of thousands of people were tortured, killed or disappeared with full support of and large weapons sales from American and Israeli governments.  We visited the Museum of the Memory, based in an old "Clandestine Detention, Torture & Extermination Centre" located right next to the central plaza though there were many in the city.  Like the museum in Santiago, it was a very powerful experience, especially being in the same cells and rooms where the torture took place, the police photos of those who died or who were disappeared looking so normal and familiar (except for the 70's hair on a few).  Though the dictators die, it is important to remember the system they built and were a part of remains.

On a completely different note we've also been watching some more movies, which have nothing to do with Argentina but were good.  Goodbye Lenin is the hilarious and also moving story of a young man forced to convince his sick mother that the Berlin Wall never fell and they still live in a communist East Germany.  It's also available free on Youtube if you're into that sort of naughtiness and we strongly recommend it for everyone.  Teeth is not really suitable for young uns but is also very very funny and clever in a different way, challenging male dominance and sexism and telling a weird and at times gruesome tale of a very special young girl growing up.  Don't watch it during dinner.

We're tired enough at the moment to spend a lot of time curled up watching films.  We both feel drained and ready for a break with the kind of conversation you can only have with people you know, a bit more personal space and less hours spent hitch hiking.  We're also excited to get on with things that we need to be in one place to do.  Basically we're ready to come home.  But this is good, because we couldn't afford to change the flight anyway!  Before we do though, we'll let you know how things go in Buenos Aires.


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* Sometimes it's great when animals act like humans, sometimes it's not.

**mixed with cola, the red wine, not the meat.  We are told white wine is mixed with lemonade or fanta.  It's weird, especially in a country so into their wine.

To the... north?

It feels rather curious.  But last night we did have the great pleasure of passing back through the (windy and godforsaken) town of Comodoro Rivadavia, thus making everything unknown territory again instead of retracing our steps.

But that's getting ahead of ourselves.  First, what did we get up to at the end of the world?

Unable to find a couchsurf we ended up camping, which was very very cold.  So we spent a lot of time in the (generous and warm) communal cooking area mulling cheap* Argentine wine with spices and oranges and chatting to the few remaining other campers.  Ushuaia is a final destination for a lot of people.  We met a guy who had cycled there from San Paolo, Brazil, and heard tell of someone taking eight years to walk there from Oregon, USA.  We also found time to hike up to a nearby glacier

on a beautiful day with stunning views

The next day was rainy and miserable so we hid in a museum about the people who originally inhabited the area.  They didn't wear clothes.  Seriously.  They were either incredibly tough or mental or perhaps both.  Sadly thanks to the same old European imperialism we saw up in Alaska and ever since, none of them are around to ask.

When we left Ushuaia drizzly snow was falling.  We hitched back to the ferry and down to Punta Arenas, not as far south as Ushuaia but still on mainland South America.  There we had a friendly couchsurf and as the weather got colder and wetter we semi-hibernated in his house, chatting about all kinds of things and eating our bodyweight in fresh clams with lime, spices and cheese.

We snuck out for a look at the very beautiful and interesting graveyard, filled with ornate tombs from various mineral or sheep farming booms.  The area had a lot of migration and there were many Scottish and Croat surnames on the tombs

But then went back inside.  Sadly on monday we had no choice but to get hitching again, and at points, with no wind protection, in the biting cold, it was bitter.  It's not worse than say November in Scotland but the problem is the standing around by the side of the road instead of being able to keep warm.   But we limped back up to Rio Gallegos successfully and camped there, just about staying warm enough overnight but discovering a layer of ice between the inner and outer tents in the morning.  This also heralded our return to Argentina, which was the last border crossing before we are returning home.  We're sick of the faff but have developed a Pavlovian happy response to the chunky stamping sound on a passport.

The next two days we hitched determinedly north, passing more fauna such as this strange mara creature that looks kind of like a jackrabbit bred with a bulldog.  We faced lashing snowstorms in the pitch dark (thankfully from a vehicle) and got very cosy with the national petrol company and their warm, 24hr stations. In one of these we saw the news that Ushuaia now has a foot of snow.  Got out just in time as we could have got stuck there.

Then, after the cheering moment leaving Comodoro mentioned above, we found our way to Puerto Madryn.  It is getting a bit warmer. Here, along with the nearby cities of Rawson, Trelew and Gaiman, are Argentina's biggest Welsh immigrants area.  Apparently when the Welsh were offered the opportunity to leave their windswept, sheep filled, rainy, cold corner of the world they said they'd like to go somewhere exactly the same please but not next to the English.  Fair enough.  Ahem, in reality they came for sheep farming.

We're couchsurfing again here and last enjoyed a nice dinner and chat with our hosts and then slept in a real bed without wearing all our clothes.  Which was very nice.  Now to explore pueblo gales**.

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*70p a LITRE if anyone is interested and not as bad as that would imply in the UK.

**Pueblo= town and Gah-less is spanish for Wales, there will probably be a bit of wind but nothing like further south.

The end of the line

Our trip is now officially over.  We have reached Ushuaia, the farthest south point you can reach by road in the world.  We can tell because there are lots of postcards saying that and also it is quite cold.

For anyone who thinks we have moved prettty quickly, you're right.  We spent a couple of days in Valdivia, hiding from torrential rain by drinking strong German beer and spending time with our very lovely couchsurf hosts.  After that. some lucky hitching and another dose of white line fever have meant we've covered about 2870 kms (1780 miles) in the last six days.  But the thing about Patagonia is, there's basically nothing here in the vast majority of it.  Gloriously, breathtakingly, nothing.

In lots of ways it's kind of like Scotland.  As we crossed over from Chile we got in some hiking in dripping woods

and watched the terrain change to mountains and autumn foliage

full of blue-green lakes and ski resorts.

Farther south, everything turns to brown grass and wind-stunted trees.  It began to get really cold, causing C to go into hibernation mode

The nutrition in the grass is so poor you need 5 hectares to raise a sheep.  Most farms have at least 5000 sheep to make a profit and that gives you an idea of the scale of them (the farms.  The sheep are quite stunted like the trees).  The sheep still manage to get in the road of course, and they are about the only thing blocking the freezing wind whistling across from the Andes to the Atlantic.  We have also seen rhea, the native flightless bird, and guanaco, the llama's far more dignified cousin who roam about down here laughing mockingly at the pathetic human fences and effortless leaping them to go wherever they want.

The crucial difference between here and Scotland though isn't even the small ostrich type creatures or camelids.  It's the size of the place.  Patagonia alone is twice the length of the whole of Great Britain and much wider.  So its size in terms of Scotland is hard to countenance.  There are spaces between towns the size of Scotland.  All this means when people do pick you up they are often going pretty far.

Once in Argentina we headed south through the alpine-esque towns of El Bolsón and Esquel to Comodoro Rivadavia.  There, after a slightly chilly and uncomfortable night camped out, we were filling our flask with hot water at a petrol station (hot water dispensers are at all fuel stops because if Argentines can't constantly supply themselves with Yerba Mate(1) they may riot.  More on this later) when a friendly looking chap approached and asked where we were going.

"Scotland," we brightly informed him in a minor Spanish fumble (Where are you from is a much more common question and they sound similar).  He looked a little confused as to how we intended to backpack there but after we realised our mistake explained that he would shortly be headed south to Rio Gallegos, about 700kms south.  Of course we jumped at the chance and were soon flying through the night chatting away(2) and drinking Yerba Mate.

We've had Yerba Mate from over half of our rides here.  We'd heard of it in the UK as it is a bit of craze in some circles there, but had never tried it.  You can't avoid it here though (where it is from.  Apparently Paraguay and Uruguay are the same too).  People travel with their own special little gourd which they fill with the strong bitter herb and then gradually pour small amounts of water at a time.  You drink the water through a special metal straw with a filter, refill and pass the gourd to the next person.  It's a strong flavour but great in the cold and we can't emphasize enough how essential it is to the culture here.  Last night our lift kept refilling it so often we both had to beg him to stop so we could pelt to a bathroom while he sat in the car giggling and apparently immune to the amount of liquid we'd consumed.  We suspect Argentines of having a special second Yerba Bladder.

We slept that night in a bus station behind what was technically a picket line.  A week long strike of long distance drivers has only been lifted today.  It was not as exciting as it sounds and it took us several days to notice the strike anyway as it never occured to us to take buses.  It seems that the unions have got something out of the big business, so that is good news.

Our hitching continued successful and we crossed into and back out of Chile (this guy was the border guard

), took the ferry to Tierra del Fuego and arrived in Ushuaia in the early hours of this morning.

So there you have it.  We have reached our destination.  It is certainly much nicer than Deadhorse.  We have traveled two continents, 15 countries and over 20,000 miles (31,000 kms).  That's more than going from Madrid to Bangkok via Moscow and back again.  All in all we're a bit knackered but very happy.  We are currently in a lovely little library full of big sections of books and friendly staff because internet cafes here are insanely expensive.  But here it is free.  Libraries have done us proud since Alaska.(3)

We don't fly home until early June and have to get to Buenos Aires to do so, so we will be faffing about some more for about another month, and still blogging if you're into that sort of thing.

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(1) Pronounced Mah-tay.  There's no reason why anyone who doesn't speak Spanish should know this but J still got sneered at (despite speaking a little at the time we didn't know it was from South America and that that pronounciation applied) in a swanky coffee place in Portland for pronouncing it like the affectionate term from London... we told you it was a craze for the cool kids.

(2) Though they replace 'Y' sounds with 'Shh' sounds as in (Shho soy C y estoy en Argentina con shhamas, poshho y shhuvia) the Argentine has actually been easier for us than the Chilean one often was.

(3) Support your local libraries folks.