The Silent Penguin

This guy LOVED the camera. Seriously...

Since I decided to go on the four day long 'W' trek in Torres del Paine, it left me scrambling for time in order to get from Puerto Natales to Punta Arenas to Ushuaia in the last three or so days. I hopped on the early bus to get to Punta Arenas, Chile in the morning so that I could take a penguin tour in the afternoon. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty stoked for it. This is the first time that I would see penguins in the wild, as they were about the only animal that I didn't get to see in the Galapagos. I checked into the hostel, threw my bags down, grabbed some lunch, and hopped on a bus to the Penguinería... The guy at the gate told me I had an hour, so I headed straight to the beach, where hundreds of penguins awaited me, waddling around, feeding their children, and pretty much being the smelly birds that they are. It was great. The big event of the day, however, occurred after I abandoned the Penguinos... As the van was leaving the park, a black truck passed us on the country road at a speed too fast for just about everything. They took a corner wide, at the same speed, and we all proceeded to watch the truck duck into the ditch and flip about five times. Fortunately, the guy and girl in the truck escaped with only a few scrapes and bruises. The guy got out of the truck, helped her out, we pulled up and fortunately a doctor in the van combined with my super sweet first-aid kit meant that they got bandaged up pretty quickly. The truck was totaled and their stuff was scattered everywhere... I'm pretty sure that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, and for some reason it made me think about what the long term implications would be for their relationship... Needless to say, it made me feel pretty good that our van had seatbelts.

I woke up the next morning, and snagged another early bus for the thirteen hour ride to Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Though there are endless things to do here, I couldn't force myself to do any of them. However, I do recommend that if you ever happen to come this far south, you should probably take the train into Tierra del Fuego National Park. I can't really say why, I guess I just like things like that... It probably has to do with some romanticized conception of trains that I got from my mom, but oh well, I guess I will never know.
Anyway, today, its off to Buenos Aires...

Under the Stars

I took this picture about 50,000 times in an attempt to get my camera to capture the roundness of the moon...

I got to Puerto Natales on a windy Saturday afternoon, after yet another long bus ride, and even longer border crossing. I met this Australian guy Marty when we were checking into Erratic Rock -- this ultra cool hostel with about 250 of the greatest movies ever on VHS and some pretty rad people running the joint. We then met this English guy Matt the next day, complete with accent and stylish feauxhawk. I made the mistake of going to lunch with them that afternoon, and they then proceeded to talk me into going ton the 'W' with them ... Thankfully I might add.

The W is a 70 something Kilometer trek normally taken over a four day period of time, with most of the hiking within three days of the four total...

The only problem with deciding that you're going to go on a four day hike on a Sunday at 3PM in South America is this: It's a Sunday, its 3pm, and everything is closed. We actually ended up lucking out, and everything opened up for about two hours, which gave us just enough time to split up and buy the necessities. Of course, not only did we buy the necessities, but we were able to snag some Salmon, wine, about 3 kilos of trail mix, and the most important thing of all: Nescafe (Its a long story). We got all packed up, tossed the salmon in the freezer, and celebrated the fact that we had to carry no water the entire journey (It's all potable down here).


We got up early the next morning and took off, all packed up with wine and salmon, ready to face the wilderness. One dusty bus ride later, and we were at the park taking a boat ride to the first campsite, set up camp, and began our 22 km trek to Glacier Grey. The entire time wind was blowing in our faces at about 100 mph as we wound up and down to our final destination. We got back to our tents at about 9PM, busted out the salmon -- which made the other campers incredibly jealous -- used some of the wine to make a reduction sauce for it, whipped up some rice, and the manager of the camp proceeded to tell us that the building was shutting down and we had to eat outside. Cool, right? No, wind was still 100 mph, or however many kilometers an hour... We ate our cold but delicious salmon, and awaited our turns at a shower. After getting ready to hit the sack, we noticed the evening was ultra bright. A full moon jumped out over the spires, and we sat, staring at it, taking a hundred different pictures, and wondering what we were really doing here. The night was clear, and we just hung out, chatting the night away. Oh, and these kids from Missouri almost had their tent blow away. It was a Coleman, just in case you are ever coming to Patagonia and don't want to suffer through losing your tent...

The second day wasn'¿t all that eventful--just a lot of hiking into Valle de Frances... We pitched a tent at the junction and tossed our stuff in, went into the valley, and stood awestruck at all of the mountains around us. It was beautiful and the weather was perfect for us, as it would continue to be for the whole next couple of days, and really the entire trip. We got back to the junction and could have just camped there for the night, like everybody else, but no, instead we packed everythign up again and headed on down the trail. Of course, it was really hot, and when we got to a lake--a glacial one--Marty had to strip down and jump in. Actually, we all did. Why? Because you have to, at least once. We sat and soaked up the sun until we dried off, headed to camp, made some hot cocoa and pasta, chowed down, and proceeded to make the first of many ads for Nescafe (You can look for them on YouTube in the near future... Maybe...).


I wish I wasn't so lazy so I could post a movie of Valle de Frances, which gives you a 360 degree view of everything...


Proof of the dip.

We had shaved about 2.5 hours off of hour hike by going further the day before. We weren't really tired through, nd we let ourselves get a late start. AFter some more Nescafe and commercials we packed up, and started wandering. Really, we hiked for 5 hours straight with our packs until we settled down for dinner, where we played Sudoku and had a beer. We actually had dinner in the Refugio-- paid camp site with bunk beds--and it really wasn't as good as anything we had made up in the previous nights. In fact, I wish we had tried to make something out of whatever we had left... I know we would have made MacGuyver proud. After din, we busted a move and rushed through a 2 hour hike in 30 minutes. The sky was red and we knew that the night was going to be clear. We pitched a tent and left all unnecessary things, and began trudging up--bouldering over--the hill to get to the top before sundown. After some spills and bruises we made it up what was probbaly the hardest trek of my life, only to find a perfect rock to sleep on. We slept like babies, and I laid there, looking at the stars, dreaming, and giggling like a little kid. I woke up once in the middle of the night, and right in front of my eyes flashed a shooting star.

The alarm went off at 5AM, just in time to catch the first hikers getting up to the top. Fortunately, they were our buddies Miguel and Ben. We started the Nescafe and pouridge--which I will never eat again after all of it I ate on this trip--and sat patiently awaiting the sunrise. When it did, we were in awe. Just speechless, and the end came to a trip that is probably one of the most spectacular things that I've ever done. Not just because of the scenery, but the people I was fortunate enough to meet and the timing of everything--the weather, the night, the moon, the absolutely delicious dried melon we got in Puerto Natales, and the great people at Erratic Rock.


Marty, I, and Matt after the sunrise...


A Screensaver for those of you at work... Do yourself a favor, and instead of facebooking, plan a trip.

I'll post something about my odd experience in Punta Arenas de Chile, and then I'm off to Buenos Aires...

The Great Chilean Escap(ad)e

I arrived in Santiago de Chile only two days ago, and I leave tomorrow. I don't want to. This city--just like La Paz, though very much unlike La Paz--is probably a place I could live. Its just got that feel to it. Santiago is a beautiful city. The streets are clean, the metro runs quick and efficiently, mountains are scattered all around, palm trees sway as much as palm trees can, and of course, its summer here. The days start at 6AM and the sun doesn't go down until 9:30PM. I have to constantly remind myself that its not summer in Seattle, or else I would get home sick again--really fast. As you all know, there is something that the smell of sun screen does to a person... I think liberating might describe it. Then again, maybe its just the fact that I'm not in higher altitudes anymore.

The costs have changed dramatically as well, which has been the biggest shock to my constantly blown mind. Food here, costs more than it does on the Ave. Beer as well. Wine, definitely not as expensive as the US. In fact, a bottle of wine, costs about as much as a botter of water. Somehow, no Chileans have purple mouths--as far as I have seen.

My flight landed alright on what I think was Tuesday (I have no concept of time), or new year´s eve. Thanks to LAN Airlines, I was able to avoid a mandatory $100 reciprocity fee as a result of a quick stopover and run through customs in Iquique, which helped me relax a little with regards to finances. Feeling pretty good about dodging the hundred dollar bullet, I walked out in search of a cab to take me to the center...

So this kid is ultra persistent about trying to get me to take his compartido--a shared van. Of course, he isn't trying to get anybody else to join in (which would make the cost cheaper), but he tells me that the cost is 8 USD. I tell him to wait for me, as I need to do some things before I leave... On the way out, I ask him about a dozen questions to make sure he is legit, ask a security guard, he says the guy is legit, and we agree on the $8 price tag. While we are driving to the center of town, he proceeds to tell me it is 20,000 Chilenos which is equivalent to 8 USD--even though it freaking ISN'T!!! It is, in fact, 40 USD. Though, I never agreed to it... I knew what he was trying to do beforehand, but it was confirmed as a result of this lie. We got to the hostel and I told him that I'd pay inside. We got inside and I handed him $10, and told him to keep the change. He looked at me, and told me it was 20,000 Chileno Pesos. I then proceeded to tell him that I wasn't an idiot, that I knew he was lying, and that since he lied he was only going to get eight bucks. He, of course, wasn't too happy about it. The management of the ultra sweet Andes Hostel stepped in, told him he was an idiot for thinking that all tourists are morons and to take the $10 or they would call the cops. This kid--Paulo was his name in case you are in Santiago--was frustrated, but got what he deserved in the end for lying. Hopefully, the next time he tries to trick a tourist, he is either more clever, or even better, honest. I then proceeded to take a nap, and get ready for New Year's Eve.

I just chilled at the hostel, had a few beers, ate some guacamole (which is served with absolutely everything, even soup), and passed out shortly after the fireworks. I woke up the next morning to find that everything in the ENTIRE city was closed. I can't overstate this enough... EVERYTHING. There was not a single soul on the streets on January 1st. It was unbelievable. I took advantage of it, learned the tram system, and walked around for a good 10 hours.

I pretty much did the same today, except I had my shot at a completo--a footlong hot dog with kraut, mustard, relish, guacamole, mayonnaise, and probably more. It may have been the grossest thing I have ever eaten, but hey, when in Rome... Maybe I should have gone to a Chilean winery and gotten to know their exclusive Camanere--a varietal wiped out in the rest of the world by some fungus, I believe. I didn't though, and won't. It's ok, because tomorrow I go to the wine capital of Argentina--Mendoza--where I can learn all about Malbec...