Rock you like a hurricane
Before we left El Calafate behind us, we walked around a lake at the edge of the city, where, as was declared in the folder, were a lot of birds to be watched. I shot one film of slides, trying to get one of those animals in the middle of the frame, on the right time, correctly exposed, in focus, without moving the camera and a 400 mm lens, total weight more than a kilo.
At precisely midday we drove off to our next destination; Rio Gallegos. This meant that we would leave the Andes Mountains behind us for good, as we were now crossing the continent eastwards. Rio Gallegos is flat, dirty and ugly. But we were only supposed to sleep there, so we didn’t make a point of it. Finding a restaurant was another challenge, but finally we found a table at a place in the main street. The restaurant was almost empty at that time, about 9 PM. It looked like the seventies to me; pink colored tablecloths, a bunch of waiters in white jackets, the bowtie almost cutting the oxygen from their bodies. With much flair, while a white napkin rests on their left arm, they present you the menu in a fake leather cover with plasticized (?) pages with too many options of sauces and garnishes. Surely Escoffier is looking down from heaven, disapproving.
Little by little, other guests walked in, shaking hands with the waiters, with people already eating and barmen. At a small table in the corner of the restaurant, and old geezer was watching it all. A glass of whisky in front of him, loads of papers and a calculator on the table, and constantly telling the waiters what to do, what not to do, go to table sixteen, “hey, table seven is without wine”, and “let me see the order of table twenty one”. The Boss. Our food came, and was actually pretty tasty.
Next morning, December 9th, 2007, we drove off early in the direction of Ushuaia, as it was 586 kilometers to the South. From Rio Gallegos it was 91 kilometers to the Argentinean – Chilean border. The first stop was to get us and the car out of Argentine, a matter of some papers and a 20 minute delay. Than we drove on the Chilean customs. Inside the building we found a complete mess. Like hundreds of people trying to get into Chile, just to get out within two hours, all on their way to Ushuaia. Only one officer was attending, so we spent two and a half hours in line, before we got the permission to enter the Republic of Chile. We were warned that it was extremely forbidden to bring in any items like meat, eggs, vegetables, soil or other products that could cause foot and mouth disease. Not even semen was allowed inside the country. “Yes officer, I am carrying semen, but only for personal use”. Imagine.
I postponed Fernanda to throw out the goats’ cheese and salami we brought all the way from Bariloche, but she refused. “Hide it under the cars’ seat”, and put it in the toolbox”, she whispered. I didn’t like the idea spending a night in a Chilean prison cell, and paying a thousand US dollars fine, but as we, - men - , all know: we can’t resist a woman pleading. So the salami and goats’ cheese went under the passenger’s seat. Than we left the customs building. We were stopped at the gate for inspection, and in my opinion, the whole car smelled like salami. The officer looked a bit around, asked if we were carrying food items, and Fernanda showed a pack of cream crackers. “No officer, we know you can’t take food items. We already passed though customs once on our way to Puerto Montt”. Putting on her angel face.
So at midday we finally got into Chile, and drove onto the ferry, which would take us over the Estrecho de Magellanes onto Tierra del Fuego, the final frontier. While waiting nicely in line for the ferry, another Land Rover pulled up, and as Land Rover owners tend to do, they meet, talk and in general are jealous – or not – of the other one’s car. These guys were Argentinean, taking some tourists to Ushuaia, and asked us which road we were planning to take. Because they knew a shortcut, and if we wanted, we could drive together.
And what a shortcut it was. Again over ripio, this time mixed with dirty water, mud, dead goats and other debris. But as the Land Rover propaganda proudly states: “Take your Land Rover to places where no other car can go…..”, we went were noone else went. It took us about two hours to get to San Sebastian, and into Argentina again.
Formalities were kept to a minimum, and off we went to Ushuaia, while Scorpions masterpiece “Rock you like a hurricane” was thundering through the cars’ stereo. Even better; it was the version with the Berliner Philharmoniker. Couldn’t get better.
From Rio Gallegos we had made a reservation in a hotel, because we expected Ushuaia to be full, it is high season. So when we got into the most southern city of the world, there was no need to drive around in search for a bed. We got to know the small city center a bit better, and went for dinner at 9.30 PM. A small restaurant whose specialty was seafood in general, and spider crab in particular. Two waiters were handling seventeen tables, running around like madmen, smiling at the customers and yelling at the fat chef who was working with two assistants in an open kitchen in the back of the restaurant. What a mess! Shelves with plates, glass jars with seasonings, steam everywhere, dirty uniforms, aluminum pots and pans, wooden ladles. I’ve lived that that nightmare before!
The spider crab and octopus stew was really delicious, and after dinner we went right away to the sack.
December 10th, 2007
Time to get to know Ushuaia a bit better. After breakfast we went for a little ride to a National Park of Tierra del Fuego. There were nice tracks to walk on, we got to know a railroad built by prisoners, and got our passport stamped on the most southern place of the continent. Then it was back to the city center, to board a boat, which would sail around the Beagle Channel. Belen, our guide was a charming young girl, who knew more about sea lions and penguins and birds and marine life in Tierra del Fuego than any book. We saw, just like my parents eleven month before, the lighthouse, the sea lions, the rock cormorants, the seals. We walked around Bridges Island with its strange vegetation. Belen told us about the first Indians, the Yámanas, who lived here. But naked they survived by fishing, and eating sea lions. Chilled to the bone we got back on the boat and eventually back into Ushuaia again. As we didn’t had lunch that afternoon, we went for an early dinner, and devoured a goat and half a sheep, washed it down with a Norton D.O.C Malbec 2004 for the ridiculous price of 36 pesos, (12 U$D).
December 11th, 2007
Today we will visit Estancia Haberton. I’ll post that later. For now, it’s breakfast, and a internet café. All the best to you, my friends.
Before we left El Calafate behind us, we walked around a lake at the edge of the city, where, as was declared in the folder, were a lot of birds to be watched. I shot one film of slides, trying to get one of those animals in the middle of the frame, on the right time, correctly exposed, in focus, without moving the camera and a 400 mm lens, total weight more than a kilo.
