How'd you do that?

San Pedro

We’re up early the next day, much to the dismay of many. There are a lot of groans as we get on the truck,
Grace and Danielle

but it’s a long drive day, so we have to get going. Today is the longest, most boring truck day in South America. We pretty much just pass through rocky desert the whole way. It looks like the way I imagine Afghanistan to look; lots of sand and rocks and not much else.

That afternoon we stop in a town named Calama that has a big mall and supermarket. San Pedro has virtually nothing for shopping, so I want to get it all done here for the next 3 days as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, about halfway through the shopping, Andy walks up to me and mentions that there’s a possible situation in the mall involving Grace. She seems to have lost her credit card into a pay phone. I rub my head, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sure enough when I arrive on the scene, Grace is crying and yelling at the mall manager. It seems that in England you can put credit cards into pay phones and they’ll just charge you through your credit card. Regrettably here you have to use a phone card. So while Jill, the American girl, tries to calm down Grace I have a chat with the mall manager. He claims that he doesn’t have the key to open the phone and that we’ll have to wait until the next morning to claim the card. Of course, that’s impossible or at least really inconvenient, as we’re still an hour and a half from San Pedro and we would have to come back the next day. So I ask him if he has the phone number for the people who manage phones and he says, ‘no he doesn’t and it’s quite impossible for them to come out now anyway.’ Hmmm…first of all I find it hard to believe that he doesn’t have their phone number, but OK, does he have a phone book so I can at least try.

He looks at me obviously irritated that I won’t be put off so easily. Eventually, I get him to take me to his office and we find the number. It turns out that it’s not impossible for the guy to come out to the phone and he says that he’ll be out in a jiffy (he doesn’t really say in a jiffy, but whatever the Spanish equivalent is). In the end, the guy gets there before the shoppers are even done, opens the phone (infuriately with a screwdriver) and we’re back on the truck without any time lost.

We finally get to San Pedro that evening and set up camp. San Pedro is in the middle of the Atacames desert, one of the driest places on Earth. The town itself is very small, but charming with adobe buildings and a number of nice cafés and bars with large outdoor courtyards. After dinner a bunch of us sample of a couple of the bars and then come back fairly early. Embarrassingly, Claire invites me to her tent, but when I come back from the bathroom she’s already gone to it and I don’t know which one it is. There’s 16 identical tents spread throughout the campground and I’m not about to start knocking on each one trying to find her, so I end up just going to my own tent. The next morning she’ll laugh and laugh.

Note: Unfortunately, this is where I stopped blogging about this tour. I always meant to continue, but I never got around to it.

Spit and Sangria

Bahia Inglesa

Off we go the next morning up to Bahia Inglesa. I must admit, Northern Chile is not my favorite part of this
Sangria on the beach. I know... my job's tough.

tour. The only reason we stop in Bahia Inglesa is because we have to stop somewhere on our way to San Pedro de Atacames. I actually asked the office if we could change our route and go up through Argentina, which I find to be much more interesting and a whole lot cheaper, but as I expected I was denied.

Anyway, we make the best of it. At the campground they have these little A-frame cabins that are almost as cheap as camping and fun to stay in, so I call ahead and make reservations. Unfortunately, even though I specified what I wanted, the guy made us reservations for these shitty little non-A-frame cabins that are really cramped and in bad shape and of course now the A-frames are all taken up. Grrrr.

Steve has decided to do a spit and I make my famous Sangria, so we still have a pleasant afternoon by the beach sipping on my deceivingly tasty cocktail. It’s not really Sangria at all, but white wine, red wine, vodka, rum, an assortment of juices (whatever I can find) and Sprite. It tastes like fruit punch but punches like a heavyweight.

Steve’s spit is out of this world, as usual. I really need to learn how he does that. Afterwards we pull out the drinking Jenga. On each block of the Jenga there’s so

That night after all the hilarity, I have to share a room with Steve, as there’s not enough rooms to go around.

Star Gazing

La Serena


People spend the day lounging on the beach or at the large mall in town. I spend the day sending off info to the office about the new kids and getting random errands done.

That night some of the pax go on the only tour that I offer in La Serena, the Mamalluca observatory tour. Because of its clear skies and it’s isolation, Northern Chile is one of the world’s best places for star gazing and there are several renown observatories in the area. At the Mamalluca observatory the pax get treated to a presentation on the stars and so forth and are able to look through a couple of high powered telescopes that let them inspect closely for instance the rings around Saturn. I find it very interesting, but I find if I sell this tour too hard a lot of people come back unhappy. Not everybody is that fascinated by looking at stars.

The Serene

La Serena

Getting on the truck today is a completely different experience from before. Only a couple of days ago each person had at least 2 seats to themselves. Now almost every single seat is filled. Martin, who is also a large man, looks at me balefully stuck in a seat next to a new guy. Gone are the days when he could stretch out across four seats and sleep laying down. So now
Finally

there are 31 sets of eyes looking at me saying ‘now what?’ I go over our itinerary from Santiago to La Paz, talking about the towns we’ll be visiting and the tours that will be available. If they read (or are read) the itinerary and are made to understand it, it eliminates a lot of the questions that they’ll ask later. Unfortunately, only about 15% of them seem to be capable of listening to it or reading it themselves and so the questions persist.

We make our first stop at a Copec gas station, the nicest gas stations anywhere. Besides providing 5 star bathrooms (1 star for cleanliness, 1 star for working order, 1 star for T.P., 1 star for a door and 1 star for a toilet seat ((I’ve seen lots of no star toilets, but that’ll have to wait until Bolivia))), showers, a remarkable selection of soft drinks and delectable pastries, they offer Chile’s national food (I kid you not) hot dogs. I very rarely eat hot dogs anywhere, but for some reason every time we stop at one of these gas stations, even at 9 am I have to get a hot dog. They’re so good.

During our lunch stop I once again do a truck tour for all of the new people, showing them the wonders of Doris. On the road again we separate everybody into cook groups and work teams. Everybody gets a shot at cooking and everybody will have a job that rotates weekly. Basically the jobs get split up into two categories which I’ve named, rather diplomatically I reckon, Strong jobs and Finesse jobs. Strong jobs include things like Bootpackers who load and unload the back packs off of Doris, Gas man who sets up the big gas tank for the stoves, Tent Packer who packs and unpacks all of the tents, etc. The finesse jobs include sweeping the floor of Doris when we arrive somewhere, keeping the refrigerator clean, etc. It just so happens that there are as many strong jobs as men and finesse jobs as women.

When we get to La Serena we go over the job responsibilities and Steve teaches the new people how to set up a tent. I have a bit of a dilemma because it just so happens that at the campground where we’re staying, there are some really nice apartments that have kitchens and everything. The problem is, is that there aren’t enough for everybody. I solve the problem by decreeing that all of the new people have to camp at least the first night. I figure it’s only fair as the old people have been pretty much camping every night for almost two months now.

La Serena is a fairly good size city situated on the beach. The campground that we stay in is just across from it which is convenient. All along the beach are nice little restaurants and ice cream stands and such. It’s pretty crowded during the high season which it now is.

After everybody is situated, I take some people out shopping. The one good thing about La Serena is that they have a huge supermarket which makes everything easy to find. Then we come back to camp and the cook group starts cooking and everybody else goes out to this little bar a block away that has a nice deck that looks out to the sea. I notice that Kate and Naomi have taken the 18 year olds under they’re wing and are feeding them drinks. I have a premonition of danger, but they have to learn sometime.

In with the New

Santiago

Now the hostel is positively humming with new people. It’s always fun to speculate on who’s new and who’s just happens to be staying at the hostel. That morning I get an email from home office about a girl named Grace Freeman, who’s joining the tour, but is stuck in Pucon, of all places. Apparently, she might be late. All day, I keep getting emails and notes about this girl and what to do if she doesn’t make it on time. To me it’s not the end of the world. If she’s not here when we leave, I’ll leave her a note on how to find us in La Serena, our next stop. Easy. Finally, she does show up, however, a young pretty but very frazzled English girl, who apparently arrived in Santiago a couple of days early, decided to go to Pucon, rented a car, proceeded to crash said car and then had to stay in Pucon an extra day sorting out payment and ended up eventually just flying to Santiago only to come into the hostel, bags swinging off of her like a tinker, hair standing on end with a very deer caught in the headlights look. Hmmm…I think to myself, this one might be a little high maintenance. I help her get her stuff to her room so she can settle down a bit before the meeting.

I get all of my last minute work done and that evening, at 5pm, we have the pre departure meeting. This is when I basically go over what they can expect from us (Steve and I), what we expect from them and what they can expect from the tour. This crowd is a bit younger, especially three girls from England (Ellie, Ella and Rosie) who are all 18. One shocker is that I have an American, Jill, joining the tour. Besides my Dad, I’ve never had an American on my tour and so it’ll be nice to have an ally in the never ending what’s wrong with Americans battle. So throughout the meeting I go over some of their responsibilities, talk about what happens if they’re sick (I’ll take them to a doctor), what happens if they bring drugs on the truck (they get kicked off the truck) etc, etc. Afterwards, I make them sign the appropriate disclaimers and take their emergency contact info and local fund. Local fund (I can’t remember if I’ve explained this already) is what they give me to pay for their hotel, food and things like charcoal and cleaning supplies. This is usually about $100 a week each and with this many people it’s a bit nerve racking, because I end up carrying around a lot of cash on me. One time in Lima because there was nowhere in my hotel to do the meeting, I had to do it in another hotel and afterwards my driver and I had to walk back to my hotel carrying an envelope containing $18,000…at night…in Lima (if you’ve ever been there, you know that it makes you nervous to carry around $20 much less that kind of money). I had fantasies of somebody coming up to me and stealing my wallet and leaving me with the envelope.

That evening we have our welcome meal back at the Vaca Gorda. The restaurant is good and nearby, so I just can’t be assed to find another one. The only other place I’ve taken a group was a Viking restaurant where we all had to wear hats and there were a lot of animal heads on the walls. Sounds like fun, but the food was excruciatingly slow and it was expensive. So back to the Vaca Gorda. When we get there, the maitre’ de can’t find my reservation that I know I booked two days ago. That’s almost my worst nightmare, to have 33 people behind me and they can’t find my reservation. Luckily, it’s a big restaurant and they’re able to make a table for us. Afterwards, I end up going to bed pretty early. Big day tomorrow.

Gettin' Ready

Santiago

Today I spend getting ready for the arrival of all the new people. The hostel we’re staying in is a true
Me and some of the new pax

Hostel International hostel with all shared rooms, usually 6 people to a room. Some of the new people are starting to trickle in and some of the old pax will find themselves sharing a room with the new tonight, which is a good thing. I’m hoping that the two groups will be able to integrate as soon as possible, but it usually takes awhile.

Most of the old pax go off on the wine tour today. They’ll visit two different wineries, the first one being a smaller old one that still stores wine in large oak casks and then after lunch a much bigger newer one that uses all modern technology. The woman who runs this tour is an American who went to school in Santiago where she ended up dating and eventually marrying the guy who owns the winery. All the girls in the group swoon when hearing this story.

While they’re off having fun, I’m making passenger lists and itineraries, copying city sheets, putting up a welcome notice and doing all the annoying little things that need to be done before a new tour starts. I’ll have my pre-departure meeting tomorrow with the newbies and everything needs to be ready before then.

That evening is the last for most of the people who are going home. We eat another group meal and say goodbye to Damon and Kristie and Leigh.

Hard to Say Goodbye

Santiago, Chile

We pull out of Pucon at 6 o’clock, heading up to Santiago. We’re all pretty subdued, hungover from the
Leigh, Kate and Naomi outside the Hostal in Santiago

night before. About 15 minutes before we get to Salta de Loja, the waterfall where we were supposed to stay a night and where we’re now scheduled to have lunch, we have a blowout a rear tire. Luckily, it’s not entirely popped and we’re able to limp it in to Salta de Loja. There, while the pax all check out the waterfall, Steve and I go find a tire place. The tire is completely ruined. While we take it off, I watch one of the workers replace the tire of a truck that basically has a bee farm on the back of it. The guy changing the tire kept getting stung on his bald head while he was trying to take the wheel off. In the end we ended up just leaving the destroyed tire and putting on our best spare. Unfortunately, our spares aren’t in the best shape after the rough roads of Patagonia, but hopefully we’ll make it back into Argentina with the tires we have, as it’s much cheaper there to buy new ones.

We pull into Santiago in the evening. Santiago is all right, but it has one major flaw: it’s not Buenos Aires. It’s not as cheap as B.A., not as attractive, the nightlife isn’t as good, the women aren’t as hot and it’s pretty average in every way.

That night I take everybody to the Vaca Gorda, a nice restaurant a block and a half away from the hostel. The tour is about to change drastically. Right now there are 14 passengers on board. A few are getting off, but a lot more are getting on. When we leave Santiago, we’ll have 31 passengers, which is 3 away from full occupancy. It’s a very difficult transition for passengers to make, so I’m a bit nervous.

After dinner we head off to a club a few blocks up the road. After about 20 minutes in the club, I walk up to the bar, slip on a patch of water and end up in the air completely horizontal and land flat on my back. I haven’t fallen like that in years. I’m a bit stunned, but otherwise OK.

The Volcano Climb

Pucon, Chile

We all get up early and head off to the tour office to get outfitted for the climb. We all get gloves, snow pants, snow jackets,
Top: The hike up. Bottom: The much more fun slide down


boots, crampons and ice axes. The night before, I asked everybody to be sure to bring lots of sunscreen and a pair of sunglasses because the snow reflects the sun very brightly on the mountain. Of course, a few people forget so we have to go back to camp before heading to the mountain.

Eventually, we get to the base camp, which is actually a ski resort. They keep one ski lift running that you can take up the first hour or so of hiking. It costs an extra 10 bucks or something, but I advise everybody to take it as though it doesn’t seem far to the top, it’s going to be a bit of an effort. I’ve learned on previous mountain climbs, that summits are like things in a rear view mirror: they appear closer than they actually are. Damon’s the only one who decides to run up it like a real man. The trail he takes actually runs right under the chairlift, so of course as we glide over him everybody has to make some smart-ass comment as he slogs his way uphill through ankle deep light volcanic rock that makes you feel like for every two steps forward you make, you go one back. Ultimately, his intelligence wins over his pride and he gives it up and goes back and buys a ticket.

When we’re all at the top of the chairlift, we start the climb. I think we’re about 5 minutes into it, when Kate starts to moan.

“I don’t think I want to do this,” she says in her thick Birmingham accent that draws out certain vowels, “I just don’t feeeeeeel like it.

“Oh, come on Kate,” I say. “We just started. At least go until you’re tired.”

“I don’t waaant to,” now really starting to pout. “I don’t like hiking.”

For some reason, I decide that she’s making it up the mountain. So for the rest of time I cajole, scold, threaten to kick her in the ass with my crampons and finally outright lie to her, telling her that we’re not coming back down the same way, so she’s has to come with us.

It’s a beautiful day and not too difficult of a hike, as long as you take it slow. The volcano isn’t that high compared to a lot of the mountains in the Andes, I think only 10,000 feet or something, but you do start from about 6,000 feet so you definitely get your exercise. When we get it to the top, there’s a stunning view of the surrounding area. The crater makes the air a bit noxious, but it’s still pretty cool to look into.

We have lunch at the top before starting back down. Now comes the really fun part. All the way back down, there are about 11 vertical chutes cut into the snow and ice ranging from 50 meters, to about 150 meters. So one by one, we lay down into the chutes and shoot down them on our snow pants like a luger or a bobsledder. To slow down or stop we just dig our ice picks into the snow. The closest thing that I can compare the experience to would be going on waterslides. It’s great fun.

Tonight we all go to bed early, except for Leigh, Kate and Naomi, who inexplicably decide to stay up until the wee hours.

Buck Neked

Pucon, Chile

We get up fairly early to make the beautiful drive up to Pucon. The beginning of day is the usually stunning 7 lakes drive,
Photographic evidence!

where we make several stops to take photos of waterfalls and lakes that are surrounded by craggy, glacier-clad peaks. Unfortunately, today it’s a bit cloudy, which puts a bit of a damper on it all. Also, I think the fact that all we’ve seen for the past couple of weeks or so have been beautiful glacier-clad peaks and spectacular lakes, puts our threshold for being impressed a bit high.

We do stop for lunch near a bridge that you can jump off of into turquoise blue, very, very cold water. You can see the glacier that it comes from. On my first tour, Dave, my first driver and I, pioneered this bridge jump and we’ve been stopping here ever since. Because of the weather and the fact that I’ve already made the jump a couple of times, I just can’t be assed to do it again. But that doesn’t stop Neal. It just so happens that it’s his birthday so he decides to jump in his birthday suit. He’s not shy, that boy. He just stripped down and jumped in. I’m not sure that I would have the… let’s call it testicular fortitude to jump into water that cold, neked, in front of that many people, most of whom were holding cameras that have the video function on them. Memorable birthday nonetheless.

We continue northwest until we get to the Chilean border. I hate Chilean borders. They’re always so nit-picky about everything. I always ask everybody to throw away any fruit, vegetable or meat products before we get to the border, but people always forget one thing or another. This time they board the truck, always with me keeping an eye on them, and they find some eggs. Usually, if they find “contraband” like this, they just throw it away. This time, however, this guy decides to line everybody up and ask them whose they are. Damon, for reasons I can’t explain, raises his hand and says, “Oh yeah, I think they’re ours.” So then he actually pulls Damon, with me right behind of course, into his office and starts to write him up some sort of ticket (really I think that he was looking for a bribe). Luckily, Damon happens to mention in passing that they’re hardboiled eggs. I grab one of the eggs and break it open in front of the official. Haha, hardboiled eggs are legal. The official lets us go a bit dejectedly.

We finally pull into the Pucon campsite just before it starts to get dark. Pucon is a little town set next to an attractive lake named Lake Villarica and in the shadow of a volcano of the same name. Mt. Villarica is a perfect snow cone volcano, that still looks a bit ominous because of its vicinity to the town and the fact that it constantly has a bit of smoke spewing out the top.

I have a lot to do before dinner. I run around doing shopping with the cook team, as well as set up our volcano climb for the next day. Everybody but Alison has signed up for the day long tour for the next day. I have never had the time to do it, so I’m really looking forward to the tour. Just as dinner’s almost ready, I realize that I haven’t bought a cake for Neal’s birthday, so I rush off to do that and get back just in time as dinner’s ending. There happens to be a cherry in the middle of the cake and so I tell Neal that it’s Chilean tradition for the birthday boy to eat the cherry off the cake with no hands…and then as he’s doing it I push his face into the cake. Classic jokes never get old. I do end up getting a lot of grief from Claire, however, who was apparently really wanted to have some cake.

The Worst Fishing Trip Ever...

Another lazy day. We were actually only scheduled to be in Barriloche for 2 nights, but I always have felt that it’s not enough and since we were originally scheduled one night near some waterfalls that aren’t worth more than a half hour or so, I’ve given us an extra night here. This gives the pax and extra day to check out the ski gondolas overlooking the area or rent bikes.

One other activity that I organize is lake fishing and besides myself and Dad, 3 other people Claire, Alison and Martin sign up. Weirdest tour ever. First of all, the tour operator is this big awkward Swedish guy and he shows up a half an hour late seeming genuinely shocked that we would still want to go fishing when there’s a bit of a breeze. Then when we walk down to the dock, I realize that he only has three poles and when I ask him about it, he just smiles and says that only three can fish at a time or the lines get tangled. So now we’re starting to have some misgivings. The pax paid like $50 for this tour and we’re not sure that it’s worth it if 2 people have to sit and watch at a time. As we’re discussing this, the Swede is pulling in his boat to the dock, which is about 8 feet tall above the water and out of the corner of my eye I’m wondering how we’re going to get down to the boat. Then the guy makes kind of a half hop off of the dock, then in slow motion bounces off the rubber pontoon side of his boat and somersaults head first into the water. Heavy coat, pants, leather shoes and all. Well…that kind of ends the conversation. We’re just peering down into the lake struggling not to laugh. Somehow I manage to offer words of concern without giggling, as he flounders about in the water, but really there’s not much we can do, short of jumping in the water ourselves, which none of us are that keen to do unless he’s really drowning. Finally he manages to clamber up on to his boat and climb sopping wet up on to the dock. So now I kind of feel bad, because we’ve definitely decided to cancel the trip and now he’s cold and wet for nothing. Anyway, there’s no way we’re going fishing now, so I mumble a kind of thanks but no thanks and we all scramble up the shore, only just holding our laughter long enough until we’re out of earshot. It was all very surreal.

Lunar Kayaking

Barriloche

Lazy day. I actually get to sleep in a bit today, which doesn’t happen very often. Claire wakes me up to come play Frisbee with her. When we start out it’s apparent that she’s the worst Frisbee player ever. It was more like playing fetch than catch. Eventually, though, she gets a little better and we enjoy ourselves.

Kyanne and Steve have taken a cabin down by the lake and in the afternoon when we see her walking down there, we follow her. It’s a perfect little love nest. Nice little cabin with a porch over looking the beautiful lake. We seemed to have interrupted a little romantic afternoon snack. Steve has bought nice wine, smoked salmon, crackers and all the rest. Luckily, Claire and I manage to get ourselves invited to stay and we enjoy a pleasant afternoon with them (only feeling slightly guilty).

That evening there is a lunar eclipse, so I manage to organize a little kayak trip on the lake for a few of us. I go along with Damon, Kristy, Neal and Leigh and we paddle up and down the lake under the eclipse. Damon, Kristy and I enjoy it, though Neal and Leigh thought it was pretty boring. Apparently, they thought there would be rapids or something to negotiate.

That evening everybody’s up for a night out, so we head into town to the Irish bar. Soon, however, Kate and especially Naomi are anxious to find a club. Naomi has a way of stamping her foot and declaring “Michael!” when she’s impatient. Unfortunately for her we find it more entertaining than threatening. Finally at about 2 am we do go look for a club. When we find one, it’s only after we pay the cover when we realize that we’re the only ones there. Once again, the Argy’s love for late nights has struck again and the place doesn’t start to fill up until about 3:30 in the morning, but by that time we’re pretty tired and only stay until about 4.

Bumpity-bump

Barriloche

Another long, bumpy day up Ruta 40. Barriloche is a Swiss-themed town, situated on the beautiful lake Nahueul Huapi. It’s a ski resort in the winter time and has lots of Swiss style chalets and architecture. It even goes so far as to have a bunch of St. Bernards walking around with little barrels around they’re neck. A bit cheesy if you ask me.

That night, I take everybody to what’s called a tenidor libre. It’s basically a big all you can eat buffet with a massive grill with almost any kind of meat. Afterwards we head around the corner to a bowling alley. But I end up playing pool with Claire instead. We started out only playing a couple of games, but something weird happens and I start playing well and winning. She wasn’t having that, so we keep playing and funnily enough I keep winning. Claire can be a stubborn girl and very competitive (though she insists only with me), its 3:30 in the morning when she finally concedes.

Ruta 40

Perito Moreno, Argentina

The next morning we wake up very early to take off for Perito Moreno It's a long drive up the old Ruta 40. Ruta 40 is Argentina’s Route 66. It’s a long highway (perhaps an ambitious word) that stretches the length of western Argentina. On our last trip I had forgotten something important in Barriloche and ended up hitchhiking for about 3 days trying to catch up to the truck as there are no buses that transverse the mainly unpaved portion of the old Ruta 40. Not only were there no buses, but very little traffic in general. So little in fact that I stopped hitchhiking and started just standing in front of whatever vehicle was trying to pass by. They didn’t have to give me a ride, but they at least had to tell me why.

We finally make it up to the small town of Perito Moreno, where we have dinner and stay in the little cabin like shelters there. That night, for some reason, Kate, Naomi, Andy, Leigh and I decide to go out in search of some trouble. We end up playing pool until stupid o’clock and get back late.

Ice Trekking

El Chalten, Argentina

The crew is off today on the ice trek, except for Alison, Martin, Neal, Rachel and myself. The ice trek involves about a three hour hike up to a little river where you have put a harness on, attach yourself to a cable and pull yourself across. Then they hike another hour or so along the glacier fed lake until they reach the glacier itself. That’s where they put on

Leigh, the intrepid Scottish ice climber

crampons and walk on the glacier for another hour, hopping over crevasses, until they reach an ice wall. There they have a chance to try out ice climbing on the 25 foot wall, before making they’re way back.

It’s a long day, but everybody seemed to enjoy themselves. Apparently, everybody made it up the ice wall. The star of the day, surprisingly is Naomi, who apparently flew up the ice wall and is starting to really enjoy this whole outdoors thing. The only scary bit was when my Dad took a bit of a spill, but he bounced up and despite a couple of bumps and bruises, was all right. I spend most of the day in the microbrewery with Martin, Neal and Rachel.

That evening there is a big celebration in the town gym. They have a couple bands playing, so Andy and I work our way down there for a bit. Andy tired out pretty quickly, so we headed back early.

Farther North

El Chalten, Argentina

Continuing north we head up to El Chalten which is on the outskirts of Fitzroy national park. Like Torres del Paine, Fitzroy has it’s share of craggy granite peaks and glacier fed lakes. Tomorrow almost everybody will be heading out on the Ice trekking. I want to go, but unfortunately, I can’t find shoes that will fit me and as much of the day is spent on a glacier, I can’t exactly do it in flops. Luckily, the town has one of S.A.’s only microbreweries so at least I’ll have something to do

Big Blue

Calafate, Argentina

We get up early this morning and pile onto a bus to go out to the Perito Moreno glacier. It’s a giant blue

Neil and Martin in front of the glacier

glacier that has giant chunks of ice that constantly are calving off of it. It’s one of my favorite things to see. On the way out to the glacier, our local guide Veronica tells us about how glaciers work and different flora and fauna that we might see along the way. Nobody can understand her accent, but for some reason I find it endearing.

When I woke up it looked to be fairly sunny. My dad had brought me nice Merrell hiking shoes for my Christmas present, but unfortunately, I managed to lose them in Torres del Paine, so now I was forced to decide to wear my flip flops or dress shoes. I opt for the flops, but immediately regret my decision as the wind and clouds close in on our way out there. By the time we get to the park it’s freezing, there’s occasional rain and lots of wind. All day I have to deal with people staring at my feet in wonderment.

The glacier rests on a lake that has a narrow peninsula that reaches right out to it and creates two different faces of it. On the peninsula they have boardwalks so you can see it at different angles. Occasionally the glacier will reach out and touch the peninsula, bisecting the lake into two, until one of the side’s water levels will rise up sometimes 15 feet. Eventually the resulting pressure will melt through the ice creating an enormous ice bridge which in turn will collapse from the pressure of the glacier. The face that we visit is about 150 feet tall and maybe 2 kilometers long. The very outside of the glacier is white, but in the cracks and crevices it’s a deep blue.

We take a boat out near the face and it runs us up and down the length of it. Our hope is to get a good video or picture of a massive chunk of ice calving off making a big splash and triumphant roar. On the boat nothing much happens, but on a little hike out on the peninsula, a huge chunk actually calves off under water and rises up from the water. Once the ice hit the warmer air, the whole thing actually shattered and pretty much made everybody’s day. I was able to get it on video, though from fairly far away. Damon I think got the best video.

That evening when we got back, we celebrated Rachel’s birthday at a pretty cool Irish bar and pizza place. Afterwards, we tried to find somewhere to hang out, but ended up back at the hostel went to bed fairly early.

Back to Argy

Calafate, Argentina

Today we go on back over into Argentina. We have a pretty easy drive up to Calafate, where to everybody’s relief we stay in a hostel. I have my own room and my own shower for the first time since Buenos Aires. Calafate is a small town that is the springboard to the Perito Moreno glacier, another highlight of Patagonia. That night we have a steak dinner at the hostel and go to bed fairly early.

Just Don't Crash

Torres del Paine

This is our last full day in Torres and I’m a little nervous because today is the day that I get to drive Doris. The group is going on a catamaran trip to the other side of Lake Pehoe, where they’ll get dropped off and they’ll walk up to where they can see the Grey Glacier. There they’ll jump on another boat that will take them back to the hotel where the kayaking was yesterday. Steve wants to go, so I’m stuck with trying not to crash Doris into anything.

I drop them off at 12 noon and then drive Doris (very carefully) down to a little hotel that has internet (the campsite office one is down). The parking lot is pretty small and Doris is a beast, so turning it around is a bit complicated, but I eventually figure it out. After using the internet I drive back to the campsite and have a leisurely day doing accounts and writing in this journal.

That evening I have to drive it 40 minutes up the road to the hotel to pick up the kids. It’s a bit nerve racking, but I make it only stalling it once. The group comes in tired and cold, but it sounds like they had a good day. We cook a quick dinner and slope off to bed early.

Kayaks and Shooting Stars

Torres del Paine

Today is mainly a free day, but there is one optional excursion and that is kayaking on Gray Lake and looking at icebergs that have calved off of the Grey glacier. It sounds pretty cool, but I’ve never had anybody do this tour. Today, my Dad and Kath have signed up for it. We’re supposed to take them out to a hotel about 40 minutes from the campground and meet the guide at ten. The guide doesn’t show up until 10:30, which is the first in a series of things that annoy me. Because the wind is up it’s probably not possible to make it out to the glaciers, but he’s not sure yet. He asks us to wait around until he can make the decision if it’s possible. If it’s not possible, we should meet them at a different place, as they’ll be kayaking down a slow river, rather than the lake. We end up waiting for over an hour and a half before he finally tells me to meet them at the river spot. So, by now, it’s too late to even go back to the campsite, so we go on down to the meeting spot and just wait another hour and a half for them to get there. When they arrive, not having seen any glaciers and spent 80 dollars on a slow river cruise in a kayak, I’m doubly annoyed. Fortunately, I’m able to convince the guide to give them half of their money back.

That evening after dinner, Neil, Claire and I climb up to the top of the truck to do some star watching. The sky is perfectly clear and the stars are incredible. Neil sees his first shooting star and we sing songs along to the music playing on the truck.

I Still Hate Horseback Riding

Torres del Paine

Today the activity is horseback riding. I hate horseback riding and usually don’t do it, but

Naomi and Neil on horseback

everybody who does this one comes back raving about it and as it’s my last trip etc. So off we go in Doris out to the horseback riding ranch and we’re all fitted out with beautiful Patagonian horses and go clip clopping along. The scenery is spectacular and for the first time, I find a horse that will actually do what I tell it to. Usually, horse and I don’t get along, but this horse is easy to ride, if not very comfortable. So I enjoy it except for the trotting that comes between the gallop and the walk. I’m not crazy about that part. We are lead by a beret wearing Chilean gaucho and his brother and no matter how good I feel about my performance on the horse, they make it look easy.

As fun as it was, when it’s over I formally announce my retirement from horseback riding. I’m very sore. Steve and Sail from Tucan have a group here and they’re camping in the same campground but at a site much more swish than ours. Tucan is the higher rolling tour, so they have tents that are all set up for them and a giant tent just for hanging out. Anyway, they’re having a wine and cheese party, so Steve and I decide to crash it. Steve is the tour guide and he started about the same time I did. For some reason, we always seem to run into each other. He started about the same time I did and seems to always work around the same places I do. There are some tour guides that I’ve heard about for a year and a half, but never run into. Sail’s the driver and has been around forever. He’s probably about 50 or so and knows more about overlanding than almost anybody. So we hang out a bit, before I head back over to my group and sit around the fire until going to bed.

The Towers

Torres del Paine, Chile

Today is the towers walk. The towers are three granite spires that stick straight up in the air

The Towers

like three naked fingers. As to be expected, there are a few casualties today. Naomi and Kate (who I’ve taken to referring to as the girls) both have nasty blisters and won’t be going anywhere, Martin and Neil are possibly still drunk, but get on the truck anyway and Rachel never even makes it out of her tent.

This morning I ask Neil if he’s changed his mind yet about getting married on top of a volcano and he still seems positive about it, though I think that the wheels of common sense are starting to turn.

We get to the start of the hike and in less than ten minutes Neil and Martin have already turned back, as they’re hangovers are already kicking in. Usually in these walks, I walk at the back with the slower walkers to make sure everybody is coming along nicely, but as Steve wants to walk with Kyanne anyway, he volunteers for the duty and I power on. The beginning part is pretty tough uphill and it discourages the casual walker. I’ve done it a few times though and know what to expect, which makes it a lot easier, though I’m still left in the dust by Damon and Kristy who are both in great shape. Once I get to the top of the first hard part, I set a slow and even pace which maintained I know will bring me to the top in no time. But along comes Claire skipping down the trail and a much more furious pace and I decide to join her. The middle part of the trail is pretty cruisy, nice rolling ups and downs, but nothing to tough. We walk through beautiful forests along a rushing river. The last part is the hard part. We have to pick our way up a boulder field for about an hour until we finally come to a look out over small lake at the base of the towers. It’s stunning and we’re lucky because it’s a perfect day and the towers are completely visible. Last time I was here, they were ducking in and out of clouds the whole time.

We sit on a boulder, eat lunch and stare at the glories that are the towers, waiting for the others. Andy makes it up a few minutes after we do and Kristy and Damon have been up here for awhile. I want to wait until my Dad makes it up, but unfortunately I didn’t bring a spare shirt to change into and the wind is starting to make me pretty cold. I wait for an hour or so, but decide to head down with Andy and Claire when they go. I run into my Dad along with Steve and Kyanne about half way down the boulder section. He’s coming along slowly but surely. Towards the end of the hike Kristy and Damon catch us and I end up walking along with Damon and Claire with Kristy, until Damon and I realize that they’re pretty far ahead and probably have decided that we’re racing. That won’t do, so we take off running down the trail and eventually catch them, almost killing ourselves in the process. Finally we roll into the small restaurant, exhausted and happy.

That night Neil breaks the news that he wants to get married with Rachel, just the two of them at some unspecified date, breaking Kristy’s heart, who was really looking forward to it, more than I think even Rachel was.

That's Reverand Michael Moe to You!

Torres del Paine, Chile

Torres del Paine is one of the most stunning national parks in the world. Its turquoise glacier fed lakes are

Los Cuernos tower over Leigh, Kyanne and Andy

looked down upon by drastic granite peaks. We camp on one of these beautiful lakes and the peaks that rise above, so close we feel like we can touch them, are Los Cuernos or the horns. It’s an incredible sight and one that I don’t think I could ever get tired of. We’re in the park for 5 days and we’ll be hiking, glacier glancing and horseback riding every day.

Today, on the way into the park, we get dropped off by Steve for our first hike. It’s only a short 4 hour, 12 Km hike that’s fairly flat. It’s a good starter for the pax and it lets me know where people are at.

About 20 minutes into it, I find out where Kate and Naomi are at. They’re already complaining of blisters. At first, I think that it’s their shoes, but then when I take a closer look at Kate’s feet, I see a little elephant peeking out at me. She’s wearing pajama socks! Heavy, loose knit pajama socks with a little furry elephant sowed on. No wonder she has blisters. I ask Naomi if her problem is the same and she shakes her head no and says that it definitely can’t be her socks, because she especially bought her socks for hiking. I’m dubious and I pull up her pant leg. Yep, she also has loose knit socks. Of course, these girls are English and have never gone hiking before in their lives, but damn.

So I stay with the girls, and let everybody else go ahead. The girls actually do pretty well for what they’re wearing, and don’t complain too much. Luckily, it’s not that difficult of a hike and we don’t fall too far behind. The beginning of the hike curls along a lake and then the trail goes up through a cool little gully and zigzags through scraggly, gnarled trees. Finally at the end, the view opens up and you see gorgeous Caribbean blue lakes and rivers and those famous granite peaks.

When we reach the end, Steve and Doris are there waiting for us and we cruise into the campsite 5 kms up the road. On a nice day, like today, this campsite has the best view of any campsite I’ve ever seen. It’s situated right on one of the lakes and just under Los Cuernos. It’s like looking at a masterpiece painting that constantly changes according to the weather and time of day.

We set up our tents, mostly in the woods as to block the wind, have dinner (another awesome spit by Steve) and then sit around the fire having beverages. Neil and Rachel are our fiancee couple on the trip and they decide, spontaneously that they want to get married in Machu Pichu and, if possible, have me officiate it. Well, of course, this won’t do, because a few of the girls who are on the trip won’t be there. So the plan eventually morphs into getting married on top of Mt. Villarica, a volcano in Chile that we’ll be climbing in a week or so. So, now the question is can I get ordained officially in Chile on the internet. According the Simpsons, it’s easy. So, I run over to the campsite office that happens to have internet, though I’m rarely allowed to use it, and ask if I can look something up. It turns out that it’s easy to get ordained over the internet. After five minutes on the net I was able to print out an official certificate of ordination from the Church of Universal Life (or something like that). Yep just call me Rev. Michael Moe. Unfortunately, I look at the small print and it turns out that I’m only allowed to perform marriages in certain states, and that it’s a bit harder to get officially licensed in Chile. Anyway, I walk back to the campsite, and everybody is significantly impressed, if not a little bit frightened at how easy it is. Unfortunately, I now realize how drunk these two are and start to think that they’ll probably change their minds tomorrow. Oh well, at least I’m a Reverend.

Stupid Penguins

Puerto Natales, Chile

This morning we cross back over into Chile, take the ferry back over the Strait of Magellan and head west. We take a dusty bumpy road out to see a penguin colony, a trip that gets on Steve’s nerves to no end. The road is hard on the truck

A stupid penguin

and the excursion pointless unless you really happen to love penguins (which a couple of our pax do).

At the park we see another Tucan truck, so while the pax are ogling waddling fauna, we sit and chat. After the pax are done we head north eventually coming into Puerto Natales, a small town about 2 hours from Torres del Paine national park. We set up camp and cook dinner. Afterwards, my Dad, Leigh, Andy, Steve and I go shoot some pool. We find the most difficult table in South America to play on and the first game last 45 minutes. I decide that I’ve had enough pool for this decade and go back and go to sleep.

Snow Falling on the Aussies

Ushuaia, Argentina

Today is our last day in Ushuaia. This morning a bunch of the pax went up to the chairlift at the ski

Kristi and Damon seeing snow for the first time

resort. At the top of the chairlift they were able to do some hiking up to a glacier and on the way it started snowing. To you and I, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but for Kristie and Damon, from Australia, it was the first time they had ever seen snow (or at least, “snow falling from the sky” in Kristie’s words”. So, when they came back they were really excited. These two are a really great couple. They’re always positive and ready to help anybody out at any time. Unfortunately, they’re leaving in Santiago. It would have been nice to have them around when the new passengers come on.

That evening we head back to Rio Grande to give us a head start on going up to Torres del Paine. We cook dinner and then Claire, my Dad and I head out to go bowling and play more pool. I finally break my losing streak and win bowling and pool.

Ushuaia

Ushuaia, Argentina

Most the pax take off this morning to do some hiking in the nearby National Park, including my

From left: Leigh, Dad, Naomi, Me, Kate, Damon

Dad. So far it’s been good to have him on tour. I feel bad because I haven’t spent that much time with him, but I think that he’s enjoying himself and is getting a real sense of what I do. I can explain it to people at home, but like anything else, you can really know what it is until you experience it yourself.

I like the campground here because there’s a nice big common room attached to the kitchen and dorm rooms with a T.V. and internet in it. It’s so infrequent that I watch TV down here that when I do have one I pretty much just park in front of it when I’m not busy. Claire, Kyanne and I watch a couple of movies.

That afternoon I do some accounting, but for the most part, it’s a pretty lazy afternoon. That night I’ve arranged for the family to hook us up with a parrilla, so there’s no cooking to do. I have a nice nap so I’ll be ready for the night. The BBQ is awesome, like I knew that it would be and we linger around drinking wine until 11pm. Somehow this group has never gone out dancing together, mainly because the dance clubs don’t open until 2am, so tonight I don’t want to go out until late, so we’re not just hanging out somewhere for 5 hours waiting for a club to open up. The good thing is that because we’re so far south it doesn’t get dark until 10:30 at night, so it feels much earlier.

After a couple of drinks, we head down to the dance club.

Little Toe of the World

Ushuaia, Argentina

I woke up early the next morning. Luckily, the hangover from the night before hadn’t hit yet. I made

Two characters: Tom (left) and Neil (right)

bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches and mixed champagne and OJ for mimosas. This definitely seemed to make up for the shit dinner from last night and everybody seemed appreciative.

C

After breky, we all jump on Doris and take off for Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world. Once again I sprawl out across the last row and sleep most of the way. About an hour and a half outside of Ushuaia, the scenery finally starts to change and the pax finally have some mountains, trees and lakes to look at. We stop at a gas station where my favorite dog in S.A. lives. He’s a huge cross between a St. Bernard and I think a Newfoundland. Anyway, the dog is like 140 pounds and only 7 months old. It’s a bit scary, especially since last time I started playing a little rough with him and his little puppy bite went through my sweatshirt and broke skin. So this time I’m a little bit more careful.

In Ushuaia we stay at the Rugby Club campground. It’s called that because there’s a rugby club next door with a couple of fields that have very large men pummeling each other and chasing around a funny-shaped white ball.

Typically, Ushuaia is kind of a place of rest for me. My two trips previous I had come to Ushuaia directly from Torres del Paine where the passengers hike nearly every day. So by the time they get to Ushuaia, they’re pretty much worn out. This time is different. They’ve all been cooped up on the truck for the last few days and are keen to do some hiking and activities, especially Kristy and Damon. They are our go to bed early (not all the time) get up early and do some exercise passengers.

Once we get there, the pax get on putting the cook tent up and our crates of food out and I go and talk to who I call Mama. She and her husband run the camp and have an absolutely lovely family. There have three giant sons who help run the camp when they’re not playing rugby or studying in Buenos Aires and there always seems to be at least one grandchild around. This time it’s Faustio, an absolute chunk of a baby. He’s eight months old and weighs about as much as the St. Bernard at the gas station. I think that they’re trying to field their own rugby team.

After everything is out of Doris and we establish who is camping and who is staying in the two dorm rooms available (Steve and I have the third), I go shopping with Neal and Rachel. When I first met the couple I instantly liked Neal. Now Rachel is starting to grow on me as well. She’s a fiery Irish girl and at first, I was a little intimidated. Anyway, off we go to the supermarket and Neal and Rachel have had an excellent idea for dinner. It’s not often that we have an oven, like there is in the kitchen of the campground, so they suggest making pizzas, which I think is a grand idea. I don’t think that they realize how much work it’ll be (as I, ahem, was a trained professional at Godfathers Pizza no exactly how much work it’ll be) but whatever it’ll still be fun.

Afterwards, I head into town to the tourist office to check out some activities. There is a boat tour of the beagle channel, but I did it last time and wasn’t that impressed. Everything that they see there they have already seen on the Valdez Peninsula tour. So, I find a couple of hikes and a gondola tour up to see a glacier for them. That’ll give them some exercise.

That night after the outstanding pizzas (they were a bit of work), I take some of the boys out to the Irish bars. Everybody else is pretty tired and as the next night is Friday night they’re all waiting for then. There are two Irish bars and they are the two most southern Irish bars in the world (oooohh, ahhhh). At least at these Irish bars they try a little harder. They have the appropriate artwork and they sell really expensive Guinness. The only remarkable thing that happens tonight is that Martin and I beat Andy and Leigh at pool 4 games to 2.

A Valentine's Day Bet

The next morning we pile back on to the truck at 6 am and start the long journey down to Tierra del Fuego. It’s long and boring. I

Claire on the left and Naomi on the right

come up with a trivia game to occupy the time, but it still drags on. The first night we camp in a little nothing coastal town named San Julian. The last time we came through here Steve decided that he wanted to drive all night, so we didn’t stop here and it had been a year and a bit since I had been here. I can’t say that I missed it. The campsite’s all right though. Plenty of room, trees that protect the sites from the wind and good showers (that’s all it takes). The next day is a little bit more interesting because we cross over the border into Chile, take the ferry across the Strait of Magellan and cross back over into Argentina.

That night we stay in what I call the yacht club. I don’t know why it’s called that. The only boats that are evident are kayaks that hang over the main room and I’ve never seen them go anywhere. Maybe it’s supposed to be facetious and I just hadn’t got it. The good thing is that we don’t have to put up tents. They have a large room upstairs with wooden floors where everybody can just throw down their roll mats and sleeping bags and down on the first floor is a serviceable kitchen that we’re allowed to use.

However, because we had to cross a couple of borders that don’t allow meat and veg across, we don’t have anything to cook for dinner, so we go out. The last time that we were here we went out to a nice restaurant, but it turned out to be a bit expensive and they mucked up our bill so badly that I vowed never to go back. So I asked the guy who runs yacht club for a suggestion. He told me that there was a nice little place down the street that has a good cheap buffet with a parrilla (a BBQ). I think excellent, that’s just what we need. I’ve never seen a bad Argy parrilla. As the pax go to dinner I run up to the supermarket. I decide that after basically a week on Doris they need a little morale boost, so I buy all the fixings for a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich breakfast and some champagne and OJ for mimosas.

When I join the pax I find that dinner’s a little bit of a disaster. The buffet is horrible and even the meat from the parrilla’s cold. One of the difficult parts of my job is that no matter what happens or who’s actually responsible, if something goes wrong it’s my fault. Not that anybody was outwardly blaming me, but I felt bad for it. Luckily, I was able to announce that the next morning we would have a sleep in and a champagne breakfast.

That night, after being stuck on the truck for a few days, the kids were anxious to go out a bit on the town. I seemed to remember that once when I was here I passed what claimed to be an Irish bar, and as I have two very ardent Irish people on board, I thought we would go check it out. The problem with Irish bars in S.A. is that 90% of the time the only things Irish about an Irish bar is the fact that it says Irish bar on the outside, has a name that starts with a O’ or Mc and maybe has a Guinness poster hanging up somewhere and if, by chance, they have a bottle of Guinness or two for sale they’ll cost as much as a full Irish soccer team. This is one of those bars, but fortunately there’s a (surprise) pool and bowling place next door.

After playing a couple of games of pool on the ground floor, I decide to go upstairs and check out the bowling. S.A. has some weird bowling alleys and this is shining example. The balls are a size between a large grapefruit and a small volley ball. There are no holes and though the lanes are normal size, the pins are also miniature.

I run back downstairs and grab Claire. We play a game and, of course, she beats me by about three points.

Happy Valentine’s Day

The Valdez Peninsula

Puerto Madryn, Argentina

This morning we get up early and pile back onto Doris to do the Valdez Peninsula tour. The

The Group with Doris. Try and pick out which one is my Dad.

Valdez Peninsula is famous for its marine wildlife. It’s a breeding ground for elephant seals, sea lions and penguins. If you come at the right time a year it’s also a great place for whale watching. The first time I came here we had a southern right whale and its calf swim right under our boat. Unfortunately, it’s not the right time of year, so there are no whales or boats.

Except for the wildlife, the island is pretty boring and we spend a long time in Doris. The one thing that makes this tour is the local tour guide, Maria. She’s traveled the world, talked her way on to archeology sites, is married to a paleontologist, knows absolutely everything about the peninsula and is a hero to every girl that’s ever taken her tour. She has a non-stop patter that weaves in and out of her own life and interesting things about the peninsula. The pax come away feeling like they just had a long conversation with somebody interesting and eventually realize that they’ve learned a lot along the way.

Fun fact: An elephant seal can dive down 1500 meters. That’s 1 and a half kilometers and over a mile down.

That night, yet again we play some pool and yet again I lose.

I Can't WIn Anything

Puerto Madryn, Argentina

6:00 am We’re up and off heading south. I’m a little hung over and very thankful

Leigh sleeping off his hangover

that there are only 14 people on the truck at the moment, so I can sprawl out over the last row of seats and sleep.

That night we camp at a really dodgy little campsite north of the Rio Colorado. The Rio Colorado is the official start of Patagonia and we get stopped by officials for at a meat and veggie check. As we have fruit and veggies for that night’s dinner and hadn’t properly hid them, they took them. As a result, we end up having to find a campsite there.

The next morning (with the rest of our meat and veggies properly stowed) we take off for Puerto Madryn. It’s another long boring drive day. The landscape here is flat and featureless except for sage brush and the occasional rhea (like an ostrich) or guanaco (like a llama).

Puerto Madryn is one of Argentina’s few beach towns. As a result even though the beach isn’t really much to look at, it’s crowded in the summertime (which it is now down here). I have a little bit of a panic attack when I realize that it’s a summer weekend. The campground that we stay at is huge and I don’t bother making reservations there, but I realize that I should’ve. Luckily, there’s still room now, though it’ll be full later that evening.

That night we go out and play more pool. I’ve lost to just about everybody at this point and being the person I am, I suggest it every chance I get. I know that eventually the tables will turn and I’ll redeem myself. Not tonight. This time I try the “if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em strategy” and team up with Claire to take on Andy and Leigh. Even though we have no business doing so, we lose 7 games to 1.

Maybe I’ll take up bowling.

I meet an Aussie soap star

Buenos Aires, Argentina

In the morning I check my email and I find that a Kiwi girl that I hung out with for a couple of

Martin, Leigh, me and some random out on the town

days in Montañita a couple of years ago has emailed and is wondering what I’m up to. It just so happens that she living in Buenos Aires. So I arrange to meet her that night. I figure if anybody knows what’s going on tonight, it’ll be somebody who’s living here. Afterward I do a bit more macroing and copying, getting my city sheets ready for the next section. Every big town we come into I hand out a little packet with a map and info about things to do, places to eat, internet, post office, etc.

After I’m done I decide to go see a movie. My dad and most of the pax have taken off down to Boca. Once in awhile it’s nice to get away from everybody and do something on my own.

That evening only Leigh, Andy and I go out to meet the Kiwi girl. We meet her, her boyfriend and a couple of her friends at a funky bar named Congo in Palermo. The Kiwi girl and her boyfriend end up leaving early on and we were left with the 2 friends. One is some sort of executive for a large dairy company and lives in B.A. The other one is an Aussie named Suzy, who is an actor and was in a popular Aussie soap named Home and Away for 4 or 5 years. I find out the next day from the Aussie girls on my trip that this is a big deal and they chastise me for not finding out which character she played or anything.

Anyway, we decide to move on and it just so happens that a girl that Andy hooked up with a couple of nights before is hanging out in a bar only a couple of blocks away, so he subtly directs us in that direction. It’s a cool bar, but very crowded and after awhile the girls take off and just a little later Leigh and I decide to go find our own fun.

As we step out of the bar we decide to find somewhere to get a tequila shot. Just a couple of steps down the street we run into another bar. It has a big sign outside and as I look at the specials it occurs to me that somewhere I’ve heard of this bar and then I look up and I recognize the door man.

He sees me and says, “Mike! You came…Come, come.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and directs us in to the bar and orders us two tequilas. It’s not for 10 or 15 minutes that I finally figure out that it’s the taxi driver from last night. Of all of the 1000’s of bars in B.A., I randomly walk into a bar that fulfills my drunken empty promise from last night.

By the time he gets done filling us with tequila, I’m spent and we end up calling it a night.

Father Figure

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Oh shit. Dad comes in today and I’m not sure how he’s going to like it. There’ll be a lot of young people with their bad language, drinking and carrying on. Though this might be my most chill group that I’ve ever had, I’m not sure he knows what he’s getting himself into. Anyway, it’ll be interesting.

He’s flying in around 10:00 am and so I wait around in the small café of the hotel. He gets here late as he took a bus into town as a taxi would take up almost ¾ of his daily budget. We go out to lunch and have a little reunion. It’s good to see him and he looks well. Over pasta and salad we catch up, and then I give little tour of the area and take him back to the hotel. He’s been traveling all night and is pretty tired. The other thing that came with Dad is a big bag of stuff mainly sent by my Mom. Down here, I’m always scrounging for books. I’ve read everything on the truck and I’ve asked her to send some down and she’s come through. In the bag is about 40 books, underwear, shorts and some Merrell shoes that are my Dad’s Christmas gift to me. Pretty exciting if you’re me.

That afternoon we head down to the main plaza of B.A., the plaza de Mayo. As its Thursday the mothers of plaza de Mayo are marching and my pax want to check it out. Back in the late 70’s and early 80’s thousands of people “disappeared” due to political disagreements. Basically if you disagreed or were suspected of disagreeing with the government you disappeared. The mothers of plaza de Mayo get together every week and march around the plaza which happens to be in front of the Casa de Rosa (the presidential palace) with signs and pictures of their lost loved ones. They’ve been asking for answers since the military government was still in power. It’s a poignant symbol to remind us how near in the past this repression was.

As poignant the symbol is, the reality isn’t that exciting. While I appreciate the bravery that these women showed in the face of oppression and understand what they signify, I can only watch old women walk around in a circle for so long. Luckily it was about time for our tango class. After last night most of the women in my group and one boyfriend (Damon) who was less enthusiastic asked me to sign them up for a class. Once again, I think reality didn’t match expectation. As with salsa or any Latin dance, it takes a couple of weeks at least of lessons before it starts to get exciting. We spent most of the class shuffling behind the instructor learning the basic step. Finally towards the end he let us dance in couples and do a couple of basic moves, but nothing like the flurry of kicks and lifts like we had seen the night before.

That night I took my group, my Dad included, out for a steak. Argentina is world renown for its beef, especially in England, and they wanted a sample. Afterward we headed back out to Palermo where we once again had to play pool to kill couple hours before the clubs opened up. I lose to Claire again and have the added bonus of losing to my Dad. I’m in a slump.

Once again, by the time it’s time to go out we’re tired. Like I said a couple of days ago, B.A. takes some getting used to and we’re not there yet. Also about 400 grams of steak is sitting in the pit of our stomachs and making it difficult to want do anything. So we hop in a taxi back to the hotel. On the way the taxi driver starts going on about his bar. Apparently, he’s not usually a taxi driver, but a bar manager. He’s just filling in for his friend. He gives me his card and makes me promise to come see his bar the next night. As soon as I get out of the cab I forget and go to bed.

Thankfully nobody wakes me up in the middle of the night tonight.

Rude Awakening

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Ahhh, the joys of Buenos Aires. I love the quirky neighborhoods, the good nightlife, but most of all, the beautiful women. It’s very difficult to walk around Buenos Aires without either A. forgetting what you were going out for or B. getting run over and the hospitals are full of men with whiplash and lamppost related injuries.

That day was a work day, as my Dad was coming in the next morning and I wanted to have most things done before he arrived. I woke up fairly early and made my way to the internet place (on the way a Nissan clipped a fire hydrant on account of a long legged blond, and water was shooting 15 feet into the air). I took care of some of the more pertinent emails and wrote my itinerary for the next 3 weeks. In every major city, which are usually about 3 weeks apart, I give out itineraries describing in some detail the places and activities that are coming up.

Afterwards, I meant to go to the photocopy place to copy off an itinerary for each pax, but I got distracted and ended up near the neighborhood of Boca. Realizing where I was and the fact that I wasn’t in the safest neighborhood I hopped in a taxi to take me back to the city center. I eventually got my copies done and headed back to hotel narrowly missing a German tourist who went head over heels over a post box.

I decided that it was safer to work in the hotel and spent the afternoon macroing. That night I took my group to a tango show. The first time I watched a tango show I was dubious going into it, but the beauty of the music and passion of the dance rapidly won me over. It’s amazing how clearly art reflects culture and watching the tango you quickly get a sense of who the Argentineans are. Their sense of humor and zeal for life is obvious within the first few moments.

After the tango show we out in Palermo a funky little neighborhood in the North. As it was only midnight or so, we head to a pool hall for some pool. I think that this is the first night that Claire kicked my ass at pool. It started a bit of a rivalry for the next week or two.

By two o’clock in the morning when the clubs finally started to open, I decided that I had had enough and went back to the hotel to get some sleep. The last image I have from that Evening is Cath coming up to the Taxi and waving through the window wearing a police man’s cap.

4:30 am Kate, Naomi and Cath burst into my room in a panic. I can’t even understand what Kate and Naomi are saying, so I send them to their room. I find that Cath is bleeding from the chin and after a couple of minutes the story comes out. It turns out that after we left they continued on until about 3:30 when they came out into the plaza and started horsing around on the playground. Cath and Andy decided to use the teeter-totter and as Andy is a bit heavier she was a bit intoxicated she took a dive and landed on her chin. We spent the next hour and a half looking for an open hospital to give her stitches. In the end they just put some glue in there and sent us on our way. It’s a 24 hour a day job.

On to B.A.!

Buenos mother-fucking Aires, Argentina

Two long days of driving, but the pot of gold at the end of the journey is my favorite city in South America. Buenos Aires is hip, hot, cheap and full of beautiful women, good food and good fun. I’m a wee bit nervous this time as my Dad is going to join the trip in B.A. and be along all the way to Santiago. I haven’t seen him in over a year and a half and haven’t spent that much time with him besides the random dinner here and there since I was a kid. Luckily, I have a really chill group right now and I think that they’ll take him in.

Tonight we camp behind a gas station.

The next day we continue driving and get in to B.A in the early afternoon. After giving the group a chance to clean up, I give them my 50 cent tour of the downtown area. For the most part it’s a practical tour, pointing out the nearest ATM and laundry, but I also throw in a little historical perspective here and there.

That night we head out for our first in a series of steak dinners. A couple of them are ready to go out and rip up the town, as I’ve told them that B.A. offers the best nightlife in S.A. Unfortunately, it’s a Tuesday night and there’s not much going on outside the expensive nightclubs, but I take them down to Recoleta, a ritzier neighborhood and we have a few drinks. One thing about B.A. is that people don’t go out to dinner until at least 10 pm and don’t go out to the bars until at least 12 pm and to the clubs until at least 2 am. It takes a little getting used to.

Super Bowl Sunday in Argentina

Puerto Iguazu, Argentina

We wake up early to go take in the falls. My head is a bit groggy and even though this is my last chance to take in the falls I decide that after we drop off the kids at the falls, I’ll go back and go to sleep. Coming along with us is the “tour guide” that we are now required to bring to the park. He costs 100 pesos, about 30 dollars, but does sweet fuck all. My last time through was the first time that we were required to use him and I thought that on the way he would be regaling the group with interesting little tidbits about the falls and the park. It turned out that he doesn’t even speak English and the whole thing is just a ruse for the government to make money. I wouldn’t use him, but apparently some guides have been hit with hefty fines when they didn’t use him. This time he doesn’t even come with us on the truck. He drives his own car out there behind us. When we get there I pay for the tickets and remind everybody what the tours are. Then as the truck drives off he comes up, collects his 100 pesos from my reluctant fist and helpfully reminds us to wear a hat as the sun is strong here…in Spanish.

Sons of Bitches

My anger perks me up as we enter the park, however, and I change my mind and decide to go see the falls after all. I join a couple of the pax on one of the optional excursions, the 4X4 and speed boat trip.

The first time I came through here I had sold it the way they explain it on their brochure and was like “It’s a crazy 4X4 trip through the mud down to the river and then we get on the speed boat and fly up through the rapids to the falls.” The problem was when it was time to get on the “4X4” it pulls up and it’s really just a large truck with an open back and seats in it. And it goes really slow through the “rainforest”, as a tour guide mumbles through a garbled microphone about the flora and fauna. Luckily, the boat trip makes it worth it. The river is high, so there aren’t really any rapids to shoot up through, but we do get a spectacular look at the falls. Once we’ve all taken all the photos that we need, the guides give us water tight bags to put our cameras, t-shirts and other valuables in. Then the real fun begins. The boat captain takes us right up and actually under the falls and tons and tons of mainly Brazilian rain water falls on our head, much to the squealing delight of the passengers. After a few more jaunts under more of the various falls we get dropped off at one of the numerous boardwalks, feeling momentarily refreshed in the stifling humidity.

After having a bite to eat, we walk around on the boardwalks that let us walk right over the calm, almost lazy river before it plummets over the edge into violent collision. Later we decide to take the train out to where a long boardwalk will give us a close up look of what is ominously called the Devil’s Mouth. The small cramped train is made worse by the humidity and mosquitoes, but the only other time I had been in the park it had been closed, so I was determined to take it to see what the fuss was all about. After the uncomfortable train, we are treated to a kilometer walk along the crowded boardwalk, which is made worse by my growing hangover and ensuing grumpiness. As we get closer, however, my grumpiness recedes and my wonder grows. At this point the river is about a kilometer and a half wide and in the middle of all this is V shaped crack that much of the river just disappears into. As I get closer and I able to see where it’s all going my wonder grows. The boardwalk brings us right up to the edge and I’m able to look down into the dizzying fury and my face becomes damp.

On the train back, my wonder turns black as I end up sitting next to an older American couple and another American kid who happened to be born in Argentina. Listening to them prattle on and on about how the problem with the people in South America is just their general laziness and if they would just work a little bit harder like Americans they would be all right. Just a little bit of elbow grease is all they need. Then the kid comes the startling revelation that China is going to be the next world power. I decide then and there that if they ask my opinion I’m just going to say, “No hablo ingles.” Eventually, I hope that Americans will learn that we aren’t the center of the universe. I think most know that intellectually, but it would probably take some apocalyptic event for them to actually know it in their hearts.

That night I watch the Super Bowl with a bunch of English and Aussies. By the fourth quarter I’m watching by myself. Maybe there is something to be said for Americans.

Border Crossing

Puerto Iguazu, Argentina

After a nice sleep in, we cross the border into Argentina. I’m not a fan of borders, but at least this

View of the falls from the Argy side


one is clean, without the usual nasty border town to accompany it. The only hold up is on the Brazilian side where they take about 2 hours to pass the truck through. The customs official, not normally known for his speedy service, was now training a new official in the art of chatting on the phone, taking lengthy cigarette breaks and generally doing anything but working on our paperwork. As they bumbled around with the truck paperwork, the rest of us basked in the hot sun and our pre-carnaval hangovers.

When we finally made it across the border, we went into the small town of Puerto Iguazu to do shopping for lunch and that night’s dinner. Though the supermarket selection is paltry at best, we’re able to find ingredients for the requisite Argentinean steak dinner.

When we reach the campground we set up camp, eat lunch and then immediately jump into the pool to escape the heat and humidity. After dinner a couple of us, including Steve, Andy, Leigh, Martin and Claire decide to go out on the town. Since I’ve never been out in Puerto Iguazu and this is my last visit, I decide to go. Our first stop is the big hostel next door. It turns out that they’re having their own pre-carnaval party, but at this one they only have a drummer/emcee and a couple of dancing girls. The girls were wearing their obligatory scanty samba outfit and doing the mandatory shaking of the ass dancing, but it seemed a little embarrassing for some reason. Where in Brazil it seems natural and platonic, here I found it a little seedy. They, of course, pulled some gringos up on stage to prove how deficient we are in natural rhythm, but there was a lot more grinding, rubbing and gawking then there would be in Brazil and half the time in Brazil the girls are topless. I don’t know. It was just weird.

From the hostel we lose Steve, Andy and Claire, but Martin, Leigh and I decide to continue on into town anyway. In Argentina, like the Mediterranean, people don’t dine until 10 or 11pm or go out until at least 1:30 or 2 am. This is a little awkward for gringos who eat dinner at 8 pm, as it’s often hard to keep people’s attention in the 5 hour interim between dinner and dancing. We make in though and dance until 4 am or so.

Race Night in Foz

Foz Iguacu, Brazil

Today was supposed to be kind of my day off. Not a real day off, mind you, there are still incessant

The Devil's Throat

questions and usual dramas to sort out, but I didn’t have much to do and I had planned to spend most of the day next to the pool. Unfortunately, like most days I think that I’ll have off, something came up. Leigh, Kate and Naomi all found that they had lost their entry visas that they were given when they entered the country.

So to get them new entry visas we had to go to the federal building, wait in line and then wait for them to print up new ones, which took forever and then we had to go to the bank, wait in line and pay for the new visas. The whole thing took about 4 hours and cost them 165 reals or about 80 dollars. Eventually, we did get back to the hostel and I did have most of the afternoon to hang out in the sun.

That night was race night. Nearby, in town, is an excellent outdoor race track. Usually, we split the pax up into teams and have 3 different races or so and have individual competitions as well as team competitions. This keeps everybody interested even when they aren’t racing. This time, however, we only had about 8 racers and so we just had one race.

One of the racers is one of my fellow tour guides, Andy. Though Andy is his real name, everybody just calls him Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean is one of the nicest guys in the world, but is also one of those hapless individuals who always seem to get themselves into a mess. You want a reality show, just follow this guy around for a couple of weeks and you’ll get pure comedy. For example, one day he is mucking around in one of the self locking lockers on his truck, but when he goes to shut it somehow he ends up locking his keys in the locker…with them still attached to the cord around his neck. Don’t ask me how he did it, but now so much of the cord is locked in the locker that he can’t move. He ends up having to sit there for over 20 minutes, practically hanging himself, until his driver happens to walk by to open the locker for him. So putting that kind of karma into the seat of a large and very fast go-kart was probably not a noble prize winning idea. But the kid wants to go, so what are you going to do. They even gave him the fastest (what was the fastest) cart in the park. Mr. Bean strikes again. On the first lap he manages to hit the straightaway concrete wall so hard that he not only breaks the cart but puts a large hole in the wall. Brilliant. Funny side note: because he is the way he is, he seems to get a lot of people who try to rob him. Unfortunately for the crooks, he happens to have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and he ends up kicking the crap out of them. What a character.

Due to the fact that I had a fast cart and had raced on the track about 15 times more than anybody else, I won. It did feel good to beat Steve who had beat me last time and is a professional driver, after all.

After the go carting, we headed back to the hostel where there was a pre-carnaval party happening. In the last couple of days, with all the trucks around who are going into Canaval, it’s been a bit of a sore spot that we’re the only ones not going in. Anyway, we dance to the samba band, drink capirinhas and enjoy ourselves just the same.

Capirinha – (Kyp-er-een-ya) The Brazilian drink of choice. Made with Cachasa, a sugar cane alcohol, lime and sugar. I’m not a big fan.

Earlier in the afternoon, we had a vote to see if they wanted to stay another day. It’s only a short drive over the border to Puerto Iguazu, Argentina and we could easily wait until the next day to do it. The vote fails and it’s decided that we’ll leave the next day. Though more than a few change their mind, it’s set.