The Beaches of Uruguay

Uruguay made a fitting last country for us. We decided to head there some months ago when we realized that a few days at the beach would be a nice way to end this crazy year. Luckily it is extremely easy to get to, a quick 1-3 hour ferry ride (depending on the cost of your ticket) from Buenos Aires. We bought our tickets a few weeks in advance online, and were able to get a great deal. The great deal meant we were on the 3 hour ferry, but it was very nice, including onboard entertainment which reminded us how extremely uncomfortable we would be on a cruise ship. We were told that Americans had to pay a $40 entrance fee for Uruguay but we exited the boat with no questioning or passport stamps. We made a feeble attempt at finding immigration and then decided, why press our luck?, and headed quickly out the front doors with $80 still in our pockets.

The ferry arrived in the beautiful waterfront city of Colonia. There seems to be a nice beach in every coastal city of Uruguay, and Colonia was no different. We checked into our B&B and headed to the beach for what would be our first of eight straight days in the sand. The city was extremely laid back, with not much to do but wander the old town, go to the beach and pet stray dogs. Needless to say, it was right up our alley.

Uruguay is currently in the highest of their high seasons. Hotel prices are double or even triple what they are in low season and everything is booked solid. We spent a few hours searching the internet trying to find a place to stay at the multiple beachside towns further up the coast but to no avail. We finally decided to throw our beach hopping plans out the window and head to the town of Punta del Este, about 5 hours north of Colonia. Punta del Este is what they call an “international beach town”. People come from all over South America and the World to party at the famous clubs and show off their new plastic surgery on the many beaches that surround the city. Nope, doesn’t sound like us at all, but it was the only place where we could find a private room for less than $100 a night and we ended up very happy with our decision.

After a morning on buses we arrived in the downtown of Punta and caught a local bus out to the tiny village of Manantiales, about 15 km away. Here we had reserved a room at what we thought was just a beat up old hostel but was really a full fledged hippy commune, complete with a tent city in the back yard. Are you familiar with the movie “The Beach“? The people looked like extras straight out of the movie and I think every material utilized to build the place was recycled and taken from another building. There were no signs to mark the place, just some indiscriminate bird drawings carved into local telephone poles to lead you there. Let’s just call it interesting, but it did start to grow on us as we spent each day at the beach, playing in the waves and watching the surfers. Every night we sat on the deck and watched the sunset and the stars come out over a bottle of wine. It was beyond relaxed there and the beaches were absolutely beautiful. After two nights we bid farewell to the commune and traveled back to downtown Punta to stay in a hostel. The beaches in town were just as spectacular as the ones outside, and we spent another two days lounging on the beach there. We tried to enjoy every single second of the warm weather, knowing that in a few short days we will be arriving in the freezing cold Midwest.

We finally tore ourselves away from Punta to head to our last stop in Uruguay, the capitol of Montevideo. Carnival was upon us and we had read that there would be some good celebrations in the city. Well it turns out that most people from Montevideo head north to the beaches (where we just were) for Carnival. The city was empty. A parade did pass our hostel on the first night, with floats and lots of drumming, so we ran outside to watch the action from the streets and finished off the viewing from our roof.
With the city empty and most shops closed as it was the weekend and Carnival we spent our time doing the exact same thing we did in Punta, running and going to the beach. Montevideo’s beaches are nothing spectacular, but they are a great way to pass some time. This morning we caught a bus to the fast ferry (1 hour!) back to Buenos Aires and entered back into Argentina for our fourth and final time. Tomorrow we begin our long journey (via Brazil and London) back to the USA.

Grapes, Bikes and Steaks

We bid our final farewell to Chile and boarded an early morning bus out of Santiago which unfortunately left before the free breakfast was served at our guesthouse (after traveling for a year, a free breakfast is a nice treat). Our route took us up out of Buenos Aires and toward the border with Argentina. The bus ascended switch back after switch back as we passed Aconcagua (the highest mountain in the world outside of the Himalayas) as well as the famed Portillo ski resort.

Our last border crossing between Argentina and Chile turned out to be a long one. We spent a ridiculously long time sitting at the border, it was a Saturday in the middle of the summer and the resulting crowds were out in force. We spent a full 3 hours waiting in line outside our bus, the longest border crossing of our trip, in order to be processed. There were no less than a dozen windows processing applicants and the whole task seemed so incredibly simple and straight forward that we had to question what the hold up was (the Argentineans take periodic breaks to drink this funky looking tea called ‘mate’ out of wooden cups and that was the prime suspect for the delays). After the agents searched every single person’s bag, we finally re-boarded the bus and arrived in Mendoza, Argentina a few hours later.

Mendoza is home to the wine industry of Argentina (chances are if you drink an Argentina wine it is from there) and we had been looking forward to our visit for quite awhile. We had already been wine tasting in South Africa and Peru on this trip, and knew that Mendoza would be a great experience. After two nights in town we decided to head out into proper wine country and stay on the “wine route”, where all visitors head to taste the wine that this region has made famous. While Chile had it’s unique Carmeneres, Argentina has it‘s full flavored Malbecs. We were new to the Malbec grape but found that it produced inky dark robust wines, even more so than Cabernet. Malbec is commonly blended in other parts of the world but Argentina has begun making 100% Malbec varietel wines.

With the recommendation and gift of a family member we had booked two nights at a lodge on the wine route with the hopes of treating ourselves; the end of the trip was nearing and two weeks camping in cold/wet/rainy Patagonia had worn us a little thin. The lodge was beautiful, tucked snugly between a couple of small family run wineries and we were treated to some comforts for a couple days including our first private bathroom in over a month. The highlight of our stay was renting bicycles and touring the wineries for an afternoon. We had really enjoyed biking around New Zealand wine country a few years ago and again we had a wonderful experience as we peddled our way from tasting room to tasting room. We left Mendoza rested and in high spirits heading toward the coast for what would be our final two weeks of the trip.

We arrived in Buenos Aires via bus (our 115 bus ride of the trip!) and headed to the Palermo neighborhood. As has been the theme of late, we were encountering large crowds and difficult accommodation bookings in Buenos Aires and opted to once again spend a few extra bucks to stay in a B&B in a trendy neighborhood. The other option was a crowded dorm room in the backpacker ghetto of town; the last thing we wanted at the end of the trip was yet another frustrating (yet entertaining) night in a shared dorm room. Buenos Aires is deservingly one of the most highly touted and appreciated cities of the world. It has vast manicured parks, infinite streetside cafes and clubs open 24 hours a day, enough stores to satisfy the most serious of shopaholics, beautiful architecture that has you thinking you are in a European metropolis and all the history to go with it. We spent our days there taking long jogs in the park (only to return later for a beer on blanket under a tree), wandering aimlessly through different neighborhoods viewing sites and touring local street markets. Our final night in town was the 8th anniversary of our first date (yes you know the anniversary of your first date when you dated for 5 years) and we headed out to what was said by the guidebook and our hotel to be the top steakhouse for the money in the city. I had not had a steak in over a year; this is saying a lot for a guy that grew up in Eldridge, Iowa eating red meat multiple times a week. I think Colleen was actually anticipating my meal more than myself and I was just happy that there was a vegetarian option for her to enjoy (when traveling this long you really start to look out for each other, even more than usual). The meal was amazing, my ribeye came with no less than a dozen dipping sauces and condiments and Colleen’s pasta came in an obnoxiously large bowl allowing me to finish off her leftovers. I can’t say it was the best steak I ever had (that still goes to Daniel’s Broiler in Bellevue, WA ) but it was better than most and at $12 you can’t really go wrong! We headed out the following morning on the ferry to Uruguay and our final country of our long journey.

Patagonia Continued

It comes as no surprise that Patagonia is a draw to many travelers for various different reasons. There are loads of Americans, Europeans, Israelis and Australians down here. I like to call Patagonia the place where people come with too much money and too little vacation time. The prices for tourists activities, transportation, hotels, etc. reflect this. We have actually run into many of the same people at every site as we move around the Patagonia circuit, decked out in high-end goretex and wandering around town carrying hiking poles (why people feel the need to carry these everywhere is beyond me). It makes for an interesting dynamic in these small towns, but also makes you feel like you are on some sort of big tour as you pile in and out of the same buses.

The sights here are extraordinary though, and it is easy to see why so many people have chosen to come, us included. After resting up in Puerto Natales for a night after our big hike, we headed back over the Argentine border to the small town of El Calafate. Calafate is a tourist town to it’s bones and there is only one reason to go there, to see the dynamic Perito Moreno Glacier located 80 km away in Parque National Los Glaciers. We had planned to spend 2 nights in Calafate but after a sleepless night in a creaky dorm room, we opted to head out early to spend the day at the glacier and then continue to our next destination via a late afternoon bus. It was quite pricey to get into the national park (they raise the fees during high season for foreigners) and with the rain coming in and out we hoped the glacier would be worth it. It did not disappoint.

Perito Moreno Glacier measures 30 km long, 5 km wide and up to 60 meters high. It is considered stable in a time when most of the world’s icebergs are receding. What makes it more exceptional is that it is actually advancing, up to 2 meters per day, which in turn causes constant calving of icebergs from it’s face down into the blue waters below. The sound of ice falling and hitting the water is exhilarating, like a massive clap of thunder. We wandered the walkways for a few hours and spent a fair amount of time staring intently at the glacier, waiting for the next giant piece to peal off. It was a very pleasant way to spend the morning and still allowed us to catch the bus back to town and another bus, 3 hours further north in Argentina to the village of El Chalten.

Where do I start with El Chalten? It is Argentina’s newest town, founded in 1985 to cement Argentina’s hold on that particular part of the border with Chile. The village swells to 1800 people in the summer tourist season and it virtually shuts down in winter months. Want to claim something as your country? Build a town! Apparently it is working and El Chalten now exists solely on tourism as it sits strategically at the base of the Fitz Roy mountain range. It is considered to be a world class climbing destination and people come from all over the world to summit Mt Fitz Roy and Mt. Torre (said to be the most difficult climb in the world, mas or minus). We intended to do some more hiking and camping but the good old Patagonia weather continued to have her way with us. We spent the first 2 nights camped in town, while 50mph winds gusted around us. I have no idea how our tent did not collapse on the spot (we counted no less than a half dozen tents with snapped poles in our campground alone). Our first hike of the area started off well, but an hour and a half into it the rains came and they did not let up. We called it quits, hiked back to our tent, changed clothes and decided that what we needed was a good beer to combat the horrible weather. Luckily for us this tiny town had a small brewery, so off we went and tucked ourselves inside for the night, enjoying a beer, popcorn and a pizza.

The next morning we awoke to bluebird skies, very little wind, and no rain in sight. In Patagonia you have to seize good weather opportunities so we packed up our stuff and headed into the mountains for one last night of camping. We hiked in 12 km to a campground at the base of Mt. Fitz Roy, enjoying the jagged mountain top peaks of the Fitz Roy range as we did side hikes to multiple lookouts. We slept in the tent for our last time that night and again the weather felt the need to send us off in style. We awoke at 6:30AM hoping to break camp and hike out early, but the rains had come. We sat the next three hours huddled in our small tent waiting for a break to no avail. Finally we folded our cards and packed up our belongings, disassembled our tent in record time and headed on a long 2 hour sprint in the pouring rain back to El Chalten for our final night in town, spent comfortably in a well equipped hostel.

We had one last stop prior to heading on a flight back north, the town of Punta Arenas. Punta Arenas is at the far southern tip of Chile, about as far south as you can go in the world without reaching Antarctica. The city thrives mostly on tourists heading to and from the national parks an is a pleasant enough place for a traveler to stay for a couple days. We caught up on some laundry from our previous days of camping and took advantage of the local supermarket and hostel kitchen to make some great meals. We had one other stop in town, the local animal shelter which we had read about online. Punta Arenas has a SERIOUS dog problem; a city of 140,000 people and 20,000 stray dogs. Can you imagine if there was one stray dog for every 7 people in your neighborhood? We hopped a local shared taxi to the edge of town and hiked up a gravel road to the shelter. We were welcomed by the two full time workers who showed us around and got some humor out of our broken Spanish. They gave Chad some coveralls and assigned him to poop patrol (it is amazing how much ‘caca’ 87 dogs can produce in a day) and I took care of some much needed dog petting duties. It was truly uplifting to see the service the shelter was providing for these deprived animals and inspiring that it was all done on such a small budget (local and federal governments provide no money toward animal control in Chile). We made a donation, thanked the staff and wished them the best as they are fighting an uphill battle.

The following morning we said goodbye to Patagonia. We were able to spend 8/16 nights in the region camping and indulging ourselves in everything the area has to offer. The landscape, people and animals have definitely left their mark on us

The Lakes District of Chile and Argentina

There is nothing like camping in the Lakes District of Chile and Argentina to keep you procrastinating on writing a blog post!

We flew into Santiago from Quito on an overnight flight arriving the day after Christmas and caught a local bus to the city center where we booked our next long haul bus south. The airport and bus stations were surprisingly busy for Christmas and we were a little anxious to get south before the New Years crowds arrived on holiday.

We arrived in Valdivia, Chile late afternoon on an overcast day and searched out a hostel to catch up on rest after our long days of travel. Unfortunately, the rains had arrived with us and nixed our camping aspirations. It is rainy season in Chile but the full day long showers we were receiving are not the norm and our afternoon highs were 10 degrees below average! We dug out our rain jackets and long sleeves and opted for a few more days in a cozy hostel in the hopes of dryer and warmer days to come.

Historically Valdivia acted as the seat of German immigration to the region in the 1850s and 60s. Large droves of immigrants arrived during this time and their influence remains very evident today . The architecture of the homes as we entered the district were in stark contrast to what we had seen elsewhere in South America, resembling something out of a northern European countryside picture book. Valdivia today is an active riverside university town with German style taverns and beer halls perched on street corners next to chocolate shops and fondue restaurants. We were able to get in our daily runs along the water and balanced that with a couple of beers from local taverns and the comforts of a westernized supermarket before heading west to the border with Argentina.

No issues at the boarder crossing besides a slow bus driver who must have been getting paid by the hour. Argentina actually recently joined Brazil, Bolivia and Chile in charging Americans a $135 reciprocal fee for entering their country but luckily they are only charging at airports and we skirted this by taking a land crossing. As we crossed the political border we also got our first up close experience with the physical border between the two countries, the stunning Andes Mountains. The road wound up through steep valleys and crossed raging mountain rivers before dumping us out on the shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi and the tourism hot spot of Bariloche. Bariloche is best known as a premier winter ski destination but also lures mass crowds during the summer months (now!), families looking for a week at the lake and rugged outdoorsmen looking to scale the many surrounding peaks. The rains followed us to Bariloche but luckily cleared on our second day and we found our way to a campground a few kilometers from town away from crowds. We set up camp and headed out on a hike up the shores of the lake. Lucky for us, Bariloche has much of the same German influence as Valdivia and we encountered three microbreweries along the shores of our 12 kilometer hike! The following day we broke camp and headed into town for NYE. The town was now completely packed with people but we had prebooked a private room in a hostel instead of doing our usual wandering. We headed out for an evening drink but we were surprised to find that at 8PM nowhere was open. Either the bars don’t celebrate NYE or they all open up late at night. After nearly an hour of searching we found an open pub (not surprising, it was owned by a guy from Chicago) where we were able to get a pint. From there we retired to our hostel with a bottle of champagne and celebrated everything we had experienced in the past year and welcomed in 2010.

The scenery kept getting better the further south we headed so we pushed on to the town of El Bolson, at the Northern tip of the famed Patagonia region. El Bolson is a town of 20,000 inhabitants that actually feels much smaller. The locals pride themselves on their open-minded ‘alternative’ lifestyle and have deemed the town an ‘ecological municipality‘ and a ‘nuclear free zone‘ (not sure what exactly qualifies it as either). The town is situated along a river at the base of jagged mountains tops and spires, the type that have made the scenery in this part of the world so famous. Forest surrounds much of the village while fields producing fresh produce and hops for beer also abound. We searched out a campground on the edge of town and checked in for 4 nights. Our camping neighbors were quite the motley crew. To the left we had a climber and guide from the Yukon Territory and to the right we had a long hair fully bearded climber from the Bavarian Alps. These guys were serious with their gear; expedition tents, ice axes, crampons, basically all that really cool gear you see at the sports store and would like to buy but know you would never legitimately use. They made great company during our stay as we swapped stories and cooked over campfires.

As with many South American towns, one of the main attractions of El Bolson is their weekly outdoor market. El Bolson’s actually occurs three times weekly and starts a little later in the morning (the laid back lifestyle allows for sleeping in). This market is actually quite different from any other we have seen; it is light on livestock and produce but heavy on crafts. Woodcarvers, welders, sculptors, and knitters all sell their goods as well as musicians, chefs and craft brewers. The market is massive, there must have been well over 100 vendors lined up around the lake in the city park. We wandered the aisles, eventually settling on a wood carved cheese board for $3, some craft beer for $2.50 a pint and some gourmet pizza for $1 a slice. The following day we headed out on a hike up the valley rim to an overlook of town and the next day we hired bikes and road out through the hop fields outside of town to a high mountain lake about 15 miles away.

After 4 nights of camping (and two broken tent poles we were luckily able to repair with a trip to the local gas piping store) we shifted to a hostel with wifi to watch the Iowa Bowl game. Accommodations were extremely crowded so we had to sleep in a 6-person dorm but we convinced the staff to let us stay in the lobby until after hours (the game ended at 2AM here!) as we cheered on the Hawkeyes and enjoyed a little slice of back home to compliment our great experiences the days before.

Side Note: If anyone ever makes it to Valdivia, be sure to check out the abnormally large seals on the rivers edge. They must be some sort of freak of nature (actually I think the fisherman at the market feed them too many scraps) because they make the seals at Pier 39 in SF look like Chihuahuas.