Chronicles of a Patagonia Road Trip: Part IV

My arrival to Buenos Aires on April 20^th marked the end of my trip through Patagonia, as well as the end of my journey through Latin America. It has been quite the experience and I could not have asked for a better finale than this road trip.

Day 17

"Woke up to a view of Mount Fitz Roy through the wind shield of our truck. We had arrived to El Chaltén. Excited to be hiking after two weeks of inactivity. Fall colours against the backdrop of Fitz Roy the whole way. After setting up camp at its base, decided to hike to a glacier that caught our eye from the drive into El Chaltén. Getting there involved an hour or two of bush-whacking through a swamp and scrambling over loose rocks. But it was worth it. I was in awe of its baby blue colour and the thunderous sounds it produced as it cleaved. The shore of the glacier pool was dotted with chunks of ice, some as big as I. It had been days since I had last showered and the pristine water was just calling my name. It was the coldest water I’ve ever swam in, but being somewhat clean afterward was well worth it."

Woke up to this view near El Chaltén

Fall colours & Mount Fitz Roy

Taking a dip in glacier run off

Day 18

"Got out of the park just past noon and decided to treat myself to clean laundry, a bed, and the cheesiest Roquefort pizza in town. Will be back on the road tomorrow."


Day 19

"Glad to have picked up another longterm hitch-hiker, James from England. Not only can we now split fuel costs four ways, but we can sing along to 'The Proclaimers' in a four-part harmony."

Guanacos

Llamas

"Hard to believe that the Landruiser was able to handle the sharp turns on the way to Perito Moreno Glacier at double, and sometimes triple, the posted speed limit. We were silent and holding on for dear life as Tom negotiated the windy road of the national park trying to get us to the glacier before the sun set. While the passengers all made it, the truck took a little bit of a beating. The suspension was a little squeakier than usual, one of the windows was stuck, and one of the speakers ceased to work. But we managed to make it just in the nick of time, and had the entire park to ourselves."

"The glacier truly was one of the most amazing sights. It was baby blue, laced with crevasses and stretched as far as the eye could see. The sounds it made as it calved were deafening, and some lasted nearly a minute. Furthermore, it would often prompt the calving of another part of the glacier, perhaps hundreds of metres away."

Perito Moreno Glacier, El Calafate, Argentina

Managed to fix the speaker, but no luck with the window

Day 20

"Last night we ate at an all-you-can-eat parilla in El Calafate. We were stuffed and several bottles of vino deep when we discovered that the restaurant had wifi, fast wifi. As it was the first place in Patagonia that we've managed to find wifi good enough to open our e-mail, all of us, with the exception of James for he lost his cell phone, busted out our tablets and computers and went at it. We were the last people in the restaurant and eventually the staff got fed up and simply shut it off to get us to leave. After  Tom and I dropped off Thomas and James at a hostel we decided to park our truck - i.e. mobile home -  outside the restaurant in hopes that they reconnected the internet. We were in luck and spent some more time sending e-mails, calling banks, etc."


Day 21

"The streets of Puerto Natales at six in the morning are not what you would expect of a small town in Southern Patagonia... It made for an interesting start to our multi-day hike of the 'W'-trek in Torres del Paine National Park. Due to bad weather forecasts and a time constraint on our road-trip, we opted to do this four to five day hike in three. We traveled lightly the nine kilometres to the lookout point for the towers. The weather was beautiful and we had a great view of the towers at the top. But we only had maybe a half hour to soak it in as we still had the majority of the hike in front of us. We raced down the trail, picked up our packs, and had to set a fast pace for camp if we were going to make it in day light. The wind was incredibly strong. We made it just as the sun was setting and, at the end of the day, we covered about 32 km. Quinoa for dinner."

Gauchos herding horses

Parque Nacional Torres del Paine

Los Torres del Paine

Day 22

"More hiking, more incredible scenery and more Quinoa..."

The Towers at night

Setting up camp

Day 23

"The absurd cost of transport to get back to the parking lot at the start of the 'W' trek left us with a bad taste of Torres del Paine National Park. We were further aggravated when we got to the parking lot and the hotel wouldn't sell us any gas. We asked every person in the parking lot if they had any gas to spare. After an hour or two we collected maybe a litre. Decided to push for a small town between the park and Puerto Natales where rumours hold that there is a black market for gasoline. If we didn't make it, two of us would watch over the truck for the night while the other two hitched a ride into town to fill up a gas can. We made it, but the police wouldn't help us and said we'd need to hitch a ride. Finally we found the black market and bought out their whole stock, a whole six litres for more than $12 US. We had doubts that it would be sufficient to take us to Puerto Natales, but we made it with one litre to spare in the tank. Will we never learn..."


Day 24

"Slept at a nice hospedaje last night run by a grandmother named Gloria. Surprised to find the windshield wiper snapped off the car. Used some fishing line to fasten it to the truck. At least it came in use somewhere, for I'm surely not catching any fish with it... After conquering the 'Towers of Pain' (Torres del Paine)  we are ready to continue our journey sur, down the 'Road to the End of the World' (Carretera al Fin del Mundo) to 'The Land of Fire' (Tierra del Fuego). I hope the scenery lives up to the expectations set by the epic titles..."


Day 25

"Took a ferry from Punta Arenas to Porvenir, the gateway to Tierra del Fuego. While the road here looked better than most we've been driving, it was by far the worst. The dirt road was saturated with water - it was essentially mud. In 4WD we were sliding off the road into the ditches lining it, getting spun around over 90º at times, and getting covered in mud. It was comparable to driving the worst black ice. This drive would be impossible without a proper truck. Made it to Ushuaia, Argentina."

Tierra del Fuego, Chilé

In the 'Land of Fire'

Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina. The southern-most tip of South America reachable by road.

Day 26

"Today we discovered that Argentinians do not take kindly to British folk. They hold a grudge over the Falkland War and continue to claim the islands are theirs. Signs prohibit 'British pirates' from docking. James is convinced that he is given higher hostel prices once they hear his accent."

Day 27

"Trying to get off the Land of Fire is not easy. Rumours hold that one may be stuck up to 70 hours waiting for the wind to die down before the ferry can attempt the three kilometre crossing. We arrived at night to find a line stretching about two kilometres. And while the ferry was going, it would close in two hours and we would not make it until the next morning. James slept in the drivers seat, I in the passenger seat, and Tom in the back. We were fast asleep when we got woken up and told that there would be one last ferry and its our turn. James has never driven a large truck before and when Tom mentions it's a four speed, James is thrown off, "Is that just like a five speed minus one?!" Half asleep it was a jerky ride onto the ferry, and we almost missed the ramp."


Day 28

"Had to change the tire today for the first time this trip. Discovered that the jack is too small. Made for an interesting, and miserable, tire change in 70 km/hr winds. Sad to see James leave today as well. And, once again, there were two..."


Day 29

"Getting fairly proficient driving a manual transmission, but haven't quite graduated to driving stick with a hot cup of coffee. Tom was asleep and it was my turn. Grabbed a coffee and managed to navigate the parking lot without spilling a drop. My confidence was high. But then I was forced to stop on an uphill before merging on the highway, and, to make matters worse, there was a truck right behind me. I made it fine, but spilled half the cup on my crotch. Curse the lack of cup holders in this Landcruiser."


Day 30

"Arrived to Buenos Aires today. Bittersweet about it. As excited as I am to explore this city which I've heard so much about, it very well be my last day in the ol' Landcruiser. Over the course of the thirty day road trip we've had numerous experiences - some good, some bad and some ugly. It was a journey I surely will never forget."

Tango show in Café Tortoni, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Chronicles of a Patagonia Road Trip: Part III

Crossed into Chilean Patagonia for this portion of the road trip. Saw some breath-taking scenery, stumbled upon a friend’s home, camped in some amazing places and took the single-lane, gravel Carretera Austral back to Argentina. It’s been quite a ride…

Day 9

"We lost our brakes on the way to San Martin de Los Andes. Turns out you can't cross the border to Chilé with 60 litres of gasoline strapped to your roof, so we decided to burn the gas by giving a lift to a couple of French hitch-hikers we met earlier today. Whether it was the gravel road shaking the truck to death, or just regular wear and tear over the course of thirty years, we were literally dumping brake fluid down the mountain pass to town. But I'm not surprised that the brakes failed. We've learned to take everything in stride. Instead of letting the truck get us down, we're going to make the most of our time in Patagonia. We celebrated safely arriving here with a steak, which turned out to be the best I've ever had."

Day 11

"The beauty of having your own vehicle is that you can choose your own route. We crossed into Chilean Patagonia at Ruta 231 and planned to take some smaller roads that weave between the Siete Lagos in search of some fishing spots. While I've heard that Argentina's portion of Patagonia is more stunning, I'm not convinced as I look at the snow-capped peaks towering over the lakes and grazing fields."

Northern Chilean Patagonia

"Spending the night in Puerto Varas. After seeing the amount of snow and wind this far North, I need to purchase some last minute gear before venturing any deeper into Patagonia and this looks like the place to do it. We had some tapas for dinner at a ridiculously expensive restaurant, where we heard from the camarero that an 8.0 earthquake just hit Iquique in Northern Chilé. If Tom and I had stuck to our original timeline and not left Peru as early as we did, our schedule would’ve put us right in Iquique for the earthquake. Something to think about as we return to the truck and call it a night.”

Day 12


"We're starting to get deeper into Patagonia. Took a ferry from Puerto Montt to a gravel road that eventually led us to Hornopirén. The ocean, pristine forests, and rugged peaks surround this quaint fishing town. Made a new friend, a stray, who we dubbed ‘Horno’ after Hornopirén. Fed him a can of tuna after he accompanied us through town and I don’t think he’ll be leaving our side for quite some time.”

Ferry

Carretera Austral

Hornopirén, Chilé

Day 13

“No luck starting the car this morning, even by popping the clutch… With two large Russian lads, Vladimir and Dmitri, pushing from the back, and a truck pulling from the front, we managed to get our truck on the ferry just in the nick of time. Can’t help but laugh at how right Tom was in preparing for the worst, which stems from his military background. I thought he was anal when he insisted on buying shovels, tow ropes, extra gas cans, etc., but we’ve used each and every one of them. Hope for the best, plan for the worst… Oh, and Horno did accompany us on the ferry. We planned on taking him to Ushuaia with us so he could be the world’s most travelled perro, but he wouldn’t get in the truck. I hope he doesn’t perish on the tiny, uninhabited island we left him on…”

Vladimir & Dmitri on the ferry

Our stray, Horno

“It truly is a small world. We picked up a Belgian hitch-hiker on the ferry, Virginie, who needed to get to a hospedaje in Chaiten in which she was going to work for a month. We pulled-up along side the place when I noticed a sticker on the truck in front of us, a ‘Tribe’ sticker. ‘Tribe’ is a group of kayakers that I know from back home, from my time paddling the Ottawa River. I asked the owner of the place, Javier, if he knew who the truck belonged to. It was his son’s, Marcos Gallegos. I was shocked. I knew Marcos from paddling in Canada and here I am, just happened to stumble upon his home. I learned that he was on his way to the White Water Grand Prix in Canada. Talking to Javier I discovered we shared a bunch of mutual friends because he hosted the athletes from the previous WWGP. After several cervezas and laughs he fired up the grill – a fiesta was under way. Fresh salmon, sausages, chicken and pisco, lots of pisco, was consumed. Javier wouldn’t let Tom and I sleep in the truck and offered us warm beds to sleep in. Gotta love the whitewater kayaking community.”

Tribe

Tom and I with Javier and our hitch-hikers

Fresh Salmon

Cooking for the fiesta

Day 14

“I’m a little disappointed to be so close to some of the world’s best whitewater, namely the Futaleufu, and not being able to paddle it. Especially since the futaleufu is what sparked the dream not only to travel to Patagonia, but to come to Latin America in the first place. I remember seeing pictures and films of the Fu as a child and dreaming of the day I would be able to paddle it. I’m trying to not let it get me down; I’m trying to convince myself that I’ll be back someday, back solely to paddle. I’m focusing on the fact that I’m in a place that few will ever have the opportunity to see. There are pristine forests, mountains and glaciers at every turn. The only sign of development is a single lane, gravel road – the Carretera Austral – carving its way south.”

Day 15

Despite not covering much ground, we had a good day today. On the way to Lago Tranquilo with our two new hitch-hikers from España, we hit a chicken. As Tom was cutting its neck to finish it off, a Chilean woman came running out shouting, 'Necesitan pagar! Necesitan pagar para el pollo!" After explaining that we hit it and were simply putting it out of its misery, she stopped demanding payment and took the chicken for herself. I'm a little disappointed that we're not eating fresh chicken tonight... But at least we have a top-notch campsite free of charge. We hopped a fence to sleep in a pasture under a huge tree by Lago Tranquilo after being assured that Chileans are 'muy sympatico' to travellers in our situation. Had a nice fire, some vino tinto, and conversed in Spanish with our new amigos. Feels great to be able to hold a decent conversation in a foreign language."

- Buena Onda

Salento: A Coffee Aficionado's Wonderland

My hellish, forty hour journey from the deserts of La Guajira (A) to the rolling hills of the Zona Cafetera (B)

It was a nightmare. Forty hours to travel the 1400 kms from Cabo de la Vela to the Zona Cafetera. I woke before dawn on February 3^rd to take down my tent; suffered a bone-rattling ride through the desert of La Guajira in sweltering heat; was unexpectedly dropped off at the side of a freeway near Santa Marta; endured the unrelenting air-conditioning of an overnight bus; navigated the metro of Medellín; and managed to suppress my restlessness - brought on by a combination of long travel and a diet consisting of caffeine and snacks - for another couple of bus rides before finally arriving to Salento in the dead of night and, of course, the midst of a downpour. But being the coffee aficionado that I am, my trip to Colombia would have been incomplete without a visit to the Zona Cafetera, Colombia's coffee region.

As I woke the next morning in the warmth of my sleeping bag and peered out the fly of my tent I instantly knew that the hellish journey was not done in vain. Below was a river that cut through the valley of the rolling green hills of the Zona Cafetera. The cool air smelt of blossoming flowers and freshly cut grass. I put on wool socks, pants, a fleece and a toque before braving the cold and walking over to claim my complimentary breakfast, which sold me on La Serrana.

La Serrana was a ranch-style hostel about a twenty minute walk from town. The hacienda was lined with windows providing breath-taking views of the surrounding gardens and hills. The inside was decorated with antique type-writers, saddles, microphones and cow hides. It was the perfect place to escape the rain or cold and waste away the hours reading or in conversation while enjoying a glass of wine.

Salento was a charming town in the Zona Cafetera. As I walked up the steep hills of town lined with colourfully painted buildings, the aroma of fresh ground coffee and vino caliente drew me out from the chilly weather and into the shelter of the cafés. The cafés had loads of character and generally used vintage cash registers and espresso machines that took up to eight minutes to brew a cappuccino. Despite the dated equipment, the coffee was among the best I've ever had.

The cafés weren't the only things in Salento that were seemingly stuck in the past. The locals wore traditional sombreros and wool ponchos to ward off the cold, and horseback was the preferred mode of transportation. And when in the 'wild west', why not do how the cowboys do?

I got a horse. I've always been a little weirded out by these animals, but after a few words of advice they were easy to handle. I crossed deep rivers, climbed incredibly steep and muddy pitches and galloped at full speed through fields. This definitely fostered in me a new found respect for their power and endurance.

Valle de Cocora

Burundanga

Coffee Berries

Drying coffee beans

Tejo

Other than relaxing, Salento had a few other interesting things to offer. I spent a day hiking through the Valle de Cocora where I saw the world's tallest palm trees, the wax palms, as well as the source of the 'world's scariest drug', burundanga; took a tour of a family-run coffee plantation and learned about how the berries are picked, fermented, dried and finally roasted; and tried my hand at a traditional Colombian game involving beer and gunpowder, 'tejo'.

Colombia, its been a blast. Next stop, Ecuador!

Cabo de la Vela: Where the Desert meets the Sea

La Guajira has a reputation akin to that of the Wild West of the United States. It was earned by the Wayuu who were unique among the indigenous groups of Colombia for having used horses and firearms to ward off the Spaniards in the 1700s. The northernmost point of South America, La Guajira Peninsula has for one reason or another remained off the well-beaten gringo trail. All I knew was that it was remote, the land arid and the views breathtaking. And with that, I was determined to see it for myself.

La Guajira is outlined in pink. The journey from Santa Marta (A), through Riohacha (B) and Uribia (C), to the fishing town of Cabo de la Vela (D).

On January 31^st I set out for Cabo de la Vela on the western coast of La Guajira Peninsula. Its 'Wild West'-like nature began to present itself during the bus ride from Santa Marta to Riohacha, the capital of La Guajira. As we approached Riohacha, cactus-studded plains replaced the jungle-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada; tanks and soldiers were stationed along the road more and more frequently; and smuggled Venezuelan gas was sold for cheap all along the roadside. From Riohacha I had to take a colectivo to Uribia as no public buses ran further north. There I was immediately swarmed by what must have been half a dozen locals who were grabbing me by the arms and backpack, each hoping that he would have the opportunity to overcharge me for a ride to Cabo - i.e. to reap the benefits of the gringo tax. After fighting off the locals, relieved to find my wallet and camera still in my pockets, I chose a truck and waited as it was loaded up with supplies and people. And that is when the real adventure began.

Wayuu woman with her child

We drove down a bumpy and dusty road, past remnants of de-railed trains, before we pulled off into the desert. We stopped periodically to pick-up both cargo that flew off the truck and people who stood under the scorching sun waiting for a lift. Once we ran out of space within the bed of the pick-up truck, no problem, there was always space on the roof for more! As people were dropped off at their small huts in the middle of the desert, I found myself wondering how the hell these people entertained themselves.

The answer came four hours later, when I had my first glimpse of Cabo de la Vela. It was a fishing village just metres from the turquoise sea where the Wayuu welcomed tourists into their homes. If hungry I would ask one of the families what they had for dinner, which was invariably fresh seafood. While one can stay with a local family in one of their hammocks, I opted to pay a modest 5000 pesos ($2.50 US) per night to camp on the beach. Here I had a front row seat to watch the major pass-time of the village, kite-surfing.

Strong off-shore winds almost everyday of the year, coupled with the protection of the bay, make Cabo a kite-surfing mecca. The local kids were unbelievable at kiting and tried to convince me to try. Worried about getting blown out to sea, they attempted to reassure me by telling me that they could tie me to a rope with which they could pull me back to shore if anything went wrong. As tempted as I was, I decided to hold-off.

Since I didn't kite-surf, the only thing left for me to do was to explore the desert. And so, I put on my headphones, blasted some Eddie Vedder and walked 'into the wild'.

Pílon de Azúcar

View from Cerro Kamachi

Salt flat

Ojo de Agua

View from El Faro