The blogs have been a bit spotty lately, as I was busy getting ready to leave Palmer Station, which I did on Feb 3, followed once again by the four-day crossing of the Southern Ocean between the Antarctic Peninsula and South America. I will have more to say about my time at Palmer, along with more pics, but that will require more time than I have now at this hostel Internet cafe (where it costs about 50 cents for an hour of surfing).
We returned to Punta Arenas early on Sunday, Feb. 7. Then followed a mad dash by me to try and secure a bus the next day for Ushuaia in Argentina, which competes with PA as the southernmost city. Ushuaia is farther south but smaller, so you decide ...
Miraculously, there was one ticket still available, so I booked a round trip for about 60,000 pesos -- about $110US. It´s about a 12-hour bus ride, and after yesterday I found out why ...
I got to the bus station in plenty of time, and it turned out there were two buses going to Ushuiaia, so I showed my ticket to one guy and he told me to get on the other bus. Of course, five minutes into the trip, when this fellow was going around checking seats, he told me that I was on the wrong bus and would have to transfer at some point. They were essentially caravaning. That wasn´t a big deal, as we ended up having to take a detour on some dirt road because of some sort of protest involving burning tires piled across the road to the airport. Fisherman protesting for more money apparently.
The trip was largely uneventful but the border crossing was what I would generously describe as chaotic, and it must have taken us close to two hours to exit Chile, drive the few kilometers to the Argentine border and enter the country. It looked like Argentina would be easy, as we got in quickly and got the passports stamped. Back on the bus, they told us to get back off and run our luggage through. Apparently the x-ray machine is usually `broken,´ but according to one Spanish guy on the bus, the immigration official didn´t like the bus driver or something along those lines, so we had to go back ... funny thing is no one was making sure we went back into the building, so some people didn´t even bother. And I don´t think anyone was actually watching the machine monitor, located away from where everyone just grabbed his or her bag and walked back out.
Got in around 930 p.m. in rain and light fog. The drive was beautiful for the last couple hours and actually reminded me of Colorado, esp. Lake Dillon, with mountains rising steeply up around a lake. The rest of the trip was more like eight hours driving through the foothills around Golden. Instead of wild deer or elk running acorss the road there were wild llama. And many, many kilometers of sheep farms, which eventually gave way to cattle ranches in Argentina, famous for it beef (and love thereof).
Going to try and do a little boat tour today on the Beagle Channel. First impression is that Ushuaia is a pretty touristy town, with two Irish pubs and lots of outdoor gear shops. Still, a nice break from the Ice and windy, dusty PA. The town sits right on the harbor and then climbs up away from the water like San Francisco. It is the main jumping off point for tour cruises to Antarctica, and ran into one boat crew last night, including a woman who has been to both Palmer and McMurdo stations as an expedition leader. The latter is particularly interesting since there´s really only one ship, the Russian Kapitan Klebnikov, that actually makes it to McM. I think she´s also friends with a guy I worked with at South Pole in the summer.
It´s a small world here at the bottom of the world.
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