Friday, January 08, 2010

It's a small world

This was originally posted on my friend Anna's blog, http://www.dailydoseofanna.blogspot.com/. From time to time she has guest bloggers, and I was lucky enough to be one. Check out her blog, it's cool. Anyhow, this piece is being republished here, but the original can be found here.

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So first off, let me say that I'm pissed at Aerolineas Argentina. I got to the airport this morning to fly from El Calafate to BA, and they had a) overbooked the flight to start with and b) changed equipment to a smaller plane. Consequently, Strategerist did not make it on her flight. The good news is that there is free wifi and a place to vent. I tried every trick in the book to get on the flight and nothing worked. I asked for compensation, they refused. I stood at the counter and refused to move. In the end, I got a voucher for lunch. Small victories.

So I'm sitting in the airport lounge, and I find the ONE outlet to plug my ghetto ancient computer in to. And I'm happily logging on and all that and suddenly I have the urge for a cafe con leche. So I turn to these two guys in the corner of the cafe playing scrabble and ask them to watch my computer. I notice that they have a lot of Z's on the board, so I ask them where they are from. Poland, they respond. One from Warsaw, one from Krakow. And I get so freaking excited. I tell them that I have visited Poland, but that's not why I'm excited. I'm excited, because there was some measure of divine fate earlier in the day...

I was packing my bags and trying to organize my stuff. I was pulled my ipod out of a plastic bag, and it kind of got stuck. So I pull harder and I see something attached/hanging off of the earbud. I was pissed that I had broken it or something like that (wouldn't be the first time I've crushed those earbuds). Anyhow, it was my Solidarity pin (Solidarnoss) that I picked up in Poland in June 1989. It is my absolute favorite souvenir in the world. I've written essays on this pin. And here it was, in some random bag in Argentina. And I was pissed at myself because it should not have come and I'm not sure how it got to Argentina or mixed in with my stuff. So I put it away in my laptop bag, figuring this was the safest place for it.

So when I meet these two Poles and we start talking about Poland, I suddenly remember the pin; I dart to my bag, pull it out, and show it to them. They were more than impressed and asked me how I got that. I explained that my family took a vacation to Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania in the summer of 89. They looked at me and said, 1989? Like they needed reassurance that I wasn't a lunatic. I insisted it was 89 and that's how I got the pin. Then they wanted to know what kind of family takes their vacation in the Soviet Bloc? Answer: the kind that produces a child who thinks Patagonia, Central Asia, and other remote places are fun!

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Sink Hole (Video)

Fingerpainting

I decided today (Thursday) that I needed a bit of culture to counterbalance the outdoor activities I've been doing since arriving in Patagonia. My muscles may also have needed a break after the horse trek/ice trek combo. So I figured, what can be more cultured that fingerpainting!

I went first thing this morning to see the Walichu caves just outside of El Calafate. The caves have 4,000 year old fingerpaintings. You know, cave drawings/paintings. Some hand prints and some other designs.


I think in this one you can more clearly see the "negative hands" with the white print with red outline. My guide called the upside down ones negative, and I certainly don't know that's not what they're called. These ones are made by putting your hand on the rock (and they chose good rock to do it on as there were many types in these caves) and then using guanaco blood to paint all around it. Guanacos are related to llamas and camels and are essentially wild llamas. Although I have been on the lookout for them, I haven't seen any yet. And I doubt I'm going to find any in BA.


Here are some fingerpaintings of people. They seemed to be of the stick-figure school of fingerpaint. The really tall one on the left is the shaman.
Some paintings of caves maybe? And then lots of dots in a circle.


After visiting the caves, I went to check out the regional museum in Calafate. I had been told it was small and quite good. Both accurate descriptions. It had an exhibit on all of the extinct big mammals and mega-animals (that is not what they were called, but that's what I'm calling them). They had some cool bones and fossils on display. Like a mini natural history museum.
Then came the best sign in the exhibit. Apparently there is a heated scientific debate on the domestication of the guanaco. Enough to merit an asterisk. I mean, this could have wide ranging implications today, don't you think?
And because I'm a sucker for scenery: Here are some photos from where the caves are. It's got the steppe, Lake Argentina, and the Andes. I couldn't resist.

I WALKED ON WATER!

Yup, I did. Some of it frozen, other times there was water on top of ice, and I walked on it. It was definitely one of the most awesome days of my life.

Wednesday was a great day. I signed up for Helios y Aventura's "Big Ice" trek. It's about a 7-8 day of hiking, half on Perito Moreno Glacier, and half on terra firma. I found the later to be more difficult than strapping on some crampons and climbing on ice, although that did present some challenges as well. We started out the day in Calafate and drove the 90 minutes to the glacier. We walked along much of the same path I walked on Monday, taking a look at the northern wall of the glacier. I'm glad I spent a full day there though, because that enabled me to watch the calving, and really enjoy it. This was just a quick walk through the balconies, with a short stop or two for photographs. I did, however, have the chance to see three condors (3 days of the condor?).

After visiting the glacier and walking along the path, we headed for the dock to catch a boat along the eastern/southern face of the glacier, across a lake, to get to the land so we could hike up alongside. There were some crazy pieces of ice in the water.

We started hiking through a forest trail that brought us right up close with where the glacier begins.
We climbed the side of the glacier, probably a 300 to 400m gain in elevation, in a bit under 90 minutes. Nothing too crazy, but there were some very steep parts. We stopped along the say to pick up our crampons and then to get into our harnesses. We were not attached to one another, but it was so that if we fell into some crevasse, we could be lifted out easily (that is if we didn't drown or freeze first, I was a bit pessimistic about the utility of these harnesses, but I wasn't about to go without one).
We reached the ice roughly 90 minutes into our trek and stopped to put on our crampons. Then I got a mini-lesson in how to walk uphill, downhill, and traverse. And then it was off the races. I was in a group of 10 English speakers and we spent the next 4 hours together on top of Perito Moreno.


We went in and out of ice tunnels,
checked out deep crevasses (this one filled with water and extremely deep),

rivers full of water,

explored ice caves (that's my guide cutting out a tunnel to crawl underneath and then lift ourselves into the cave using a pick),
with a shade of blue I've never seen before (the inside of this cave was the most marvelous thing I have ever seen),
and saw one enormous sink hole (video to be posted separately).

The four hours on top of the glacier were incredible. It was just me and glacier (and a few other people), but total solitude and isolation. It was windy, but we had decent weather, with the sun shining on occasion. I had lunch on top of the glacier with the best view ever and some very fresh, very cold glacier water. Take that evian. You have to wear gloves on the glacier, because the ice is as sharp as glass and if you put your hands on it, you will get cut and bleed. Because of the large amount of water on the surface of this glacier, there are numerous sink holes, which carry the water to the bottom of the glacier. All the water on the bottom is what's responsible for the glacier moving approximately 2-3 meters daily...which causes the glacier to calv. The glacier formation from the top is unique. It's like there are strips of river/glacier that sort of connect to one another, but there are often gaps in between. (If you saw Maya Lin's Systematic Landscapes exhibit at the Corcoran in 2009, you may have an idea of what I'm talking about). In any case, it was topographically and geographically fascinating and I have tons of good pictures. I was tired after my four hours on top and from wearing crampons, but I didn't want to go.
Eventually we made our way from the center of the glacier (where it's less craggy and has smoother hills - in fact, you can see this part of the glacier in some of the previous pictures I've posted) back to the edge. There we crampoffed (not a word, I just invented it now) and made our way back down the mountain. We hung around watching the glacier calv some more, and I got to see a pretty big chunk fall into the lake and some decent size waves flow out.
The boat picked us up to bring us back to our bus so we could return to Calafate. They had a very nice surprise for us...whiskey on the rocks...that is glacier ice!

Riding through the Steppe

On Tuesday morning, I went to meet Gustav Holzmann, who leads horseback treks. While I wasn't up for a trek this time (see posting from July 07 about my horse trek through Kyrgyzstan), I did want to spend a couple of hours our and about on horseback. I asked him how he got a name like Holzmann living in Argentina and if he was from Germany. He proudly responded that he is Austro-Hungarian. It's not too often you have someone claim a place that hasn't existed in a century as their homeland. But that's Patagonia for you. There are Welsh colonies dotted throughout Patagonia, where they still carry on Welsh traditions.

The ride was very nice. I was with two Scottish people from Edinburgh for the ride, she was scared senseless of horses, that I couldn't figure out why she was there. We first went through the Patagonian steppe, which has that sandy/yellowish hue to it. We were led not by Gustav, but by another Gaucho, whose name I couldn't catch, because he never moved his jaw when he spoke. His lips moved (barely), but his jaw was clenched. What I did get is that he is from Patagonia and his family is still in the area. He had a windswept face, somewhat typical for a rancher in this area, where winds are often in excess of 6mph.

After we got to the top of the hill, you could see a great view of Lake Argentina (Argentina's biggest lake), which has a very deep blue color (as I later learned because of the glaciers).
We rode down hill, through dunes, and then alongside the shore. We were actually galloping, which is rather unusual for these types of tours. Usually all you do is go slowly. But apparently these gauchos take their business seriously, and we were riding for the vast majority of the time (and the bones and muscles in my body can prove it). Riding along the beach was great. We stopped for a picnic lunch before returning to Calafate.

This is my horse, Pallo Blanco (could be Pajo or Pago, I have no idea how to spell Argentine Spanish). He was very nice (and very blond).




Another shot of the steppe. In Patagonia there is the steppe, the forest, and then the Andes.

Saw some great flowers along the ride, here are some shots of my favorite alpine flower: edelweiss.


That's Gustav. Check out the knife. Typical for gauchos, but seriously, wouldn't it make you nervous to have a knife while bouncing around on a horse? I couldn't figure out why a gaucho would actually need a large knife.


And then it became clear. A gaucho needs a knife because you might be out by a lake riding with some tourists, when your dog, who has been by your side the entire ride, decides it would be fun to hunt wabbits. And then your dog catches the rabbit and brings it back to you in his mouth (making a slight detour to show it to me). So Mr. Gaucho whose name I could not decipher, strung up the rabbit along side his saddle and rode back to Gustav with dinner for the ranch. I imagine you can make goulash out of rabbit too.

Monday, January 04, 2010

Perito Moreno Glacier Calving

The Camel, The Kook, and the Glacier

Before I even get started, I think this is my favorite picture of the day:


Greetings from El Calafate! Today I visited one of the most spectacular things I've ever seen in my life, the Perito Moreno Glacier. It's located about an hour and a half outside of El Calafate, which essentially makes it located in the middle of nowhere. The glacier is enormous, over 7k long, about a mile and a half deep, and really really wide. I took 177 pictures. I think that speaks for itself. I'll post some here, but the rest to Snapfish or something like that. And then I'll post the link. The glacier is one of the few in the world that is advancing - and this one moves about 2m every day. Because it is moving and growing, you can hear it moving, and better yet, you can see it moving, as it calves and just falls into the lake. I took a couple videos of this, which I'll post separately, as soon as Blogger lets me. For the first time in my life I a) understand why a glacier is an ice river and what it actually is, since I've never really seen one in action and b) how when I go places and they tell me the valley was created by a glacier, how that actually happened. Here is a massive chunk of ice, which is "flowing" by being pushed by more ice through the landscape, and it pushes everything in its path out of the way. Amazing.


On a random note before I get to the glacier, I have had a perpetual cold since before leaving for Argentina. Today it finally bugged me enough to go to a pharmacy. I walked in and went straight back to the pharmacist. I asked him if he spoke English. The standard answer is "a little bit," but this guy didn't even say that. So I demonstrate breathing through my nose, or the lack thereof, and he recognizes that I am congested. He pulls some spray off the shelf, puts it in a brown paper bag, and sends me to the cashier. I then ask him for Pseudoephedrine, but he doesn't understand what I'm saying. So I got the cashier and I ask him for Pseudoephedrine. After back and forth where I say the word and he repeats it, he exclaims "oh, pseudoephedrina!" I should have known to add an a. My bad. So he goes to the pharmacist, and you can see them having an animated conversation regarding the dumb gringo who didn't know that sudafed was called pseudeophedrina, and returns with my sudafed with ibuprofen. I asked if they had just straight up sudafed and they didn't. But apparently, if you walk into an Argentine pharmacy and demonstrate symptoms (real or otherwise) you get drugs. And sudafed does not appear to be a heavily regulated drug here...if you can figure out how to ask for it.



And since I don't want to keep you waiting any further for incredible pictures of Perito Moreno Glacier, here are a few. The first is a view of the face of the glacier, which is about 20m to 40m above water at different points. It's almost a straight face of ice, because if it isn't straight, then it calves and comes crashing into the water. I spent hours today just waiting around for various calves, and it was def worthwhile. The second picture is of an area of the glacier that as particularly active today. If you are able to enlarge the picture, the part that is closest in just lost a huge chunk, and you can see the blue ice more clearly. The third picture is taken from a higher vantage point, which allows you to see how long the glacier is, and how spiky it is on top. On Wednesday, I'm going on a 7 hour ice trek to the center of the glacier.








I started my day by heading to the Calafate bus station to grab a tour bus to the national park. I had the great misfortune to sit next to a guy who looked like an Argentine version of Tom Selleck, but made many camel noises throughout the 90 minute bus ride. I seriously thought I was sitting next to a camel (he kept on fluttering his lips and then spitting...strange). I prayed I didn't have to sit next to him on the way back. The Camel. As for the kook, while I was up on one of the balconies/observation points overlooking the glacier I met this Canadian who was on my tour bus. He seemed nice enough at first, but he kept on talking my ear off. At first it was fine, we were talking about sites nearby like Chalten and Fitz Roy mountain on the other end of the park. But then somehow we got to the topic of avocados. I mentioned I was allergic. He asked me "who are you allergic to?" I said, not who, but what, avocados. He told me he does holistic medicine and that people are not allergic to things, but to other people. So I need to figure out to whom I am allergic, because after that I'll be all cured. I guess I was born allergic to certain people since I never like bananas either. This was my first indication that he was kooky. But it got better, he told me about a book he's written about a diet consisting of lemon juice, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper. He told me he cured a guy of leukemia in 10 days on this diet. The pity is that in between all these kooky things, he actually had some decent points. But then I was brought back to reality when he told me that lower back pain is 100% caused by financial stress. He can lift 75lbs boxes all day and not get hurt, but if he talks about money, he hurts his lower back. The kook. I think his name is Tom Woloshyn.

But I digress. I took an hour long boat ride to the face of the glacier and met lots of cool travelers. After the boat docked, I did this walk along this path that runs probably 2km alongside the glacier, going up and down....lots of steps. I befriended an Israeli couple that were very un-Israeli. They were super nice and friendly. I ended up hiking with them on and off throughout the day. After I reached some of the better vantage points along the path, I just stayed in each one to watch the glacier break apart.


Close up of the glacier wall:


Glacier wall from the boat:


A cave. I like to call this my ice palace. The White Witch (aka Queen of Narnia may live here):


Another closer-in shot:

And a great shot of the crags, peaks, valleys, etc on top of the glacier:

Edge of the Earth

View of Lago Argentina from the airplane. Notice the amazing blue color (sorry about the photo quality) of the water contrasted with the brown desert.


View of the mountains around Bariloche taken from the plane en route from Bariloche to El Calafate.

Fun Fact about Patagonia: Butch Cassidy and other outlaws, when fed up with the growing law and order (as opposed to growing lawlessness) in the West, ran away to Patagonia to start new lives. They thought its remoteness would provide security from the law. They were right. That is until they decided to start holding up Argentine banks. It was the most random thing I've learned about Patagonia thus far. I have Bruce Chatwick to thank, as I've learned lots of random facts from his book In Patagonia, which was pubished in the late 70s.
I arrive in El Calafate yesterday (Sunday). It looks like a western outpost. Some houses, hotels, buildings sitting a bit depressed from the surrounding hills/dunes. There is a nice main drag, but then you walk one block off and the roads deteriorate, sidewalks are made of dirt, and signing/lights go way down. It really does have a frontier town feel to it. Oddly enough, like most cities in Argentina, it also has a casino. I imagine that's the "saloon" where shootouts occur. Anyhow, being out here does give you a sense of isolation and that you are really at the limits of civilization. I am at the Edge of the Earth...don't be coy, I know, the earth is round, not flat, and has no edges. Just go with this one...

Sunday, January 03, 2010

Nahuei Huapi Park - Circuito Chico (video)

Just to give you a sense of the scenery in/around Bariloche in the Lake District.

So something somewhat funny. I'm standing here, checking out this scenery and there is this guy from Colombia. He has on yellow and black shoes, black jeans, a yellow and black striped shirt, a yellow and black checkered scarf, and a hat...you guessed it, black and yellow. He also has these tremendous oversized sunglasses. Think stylishly large....now think grotesquely large. The lenses may have gone out past his ears (or maybe not). So I'm standing there taking this all in and he says "this is just like Aspen, right?" While I appreciate the attempt at "you me same same" I politely corrected him saying that I didn't believe Aspen looked like this. I guess he figured posh South American ski resort = posh North American ski resort. I'll give Aspen better skiing than Bariloche, but Bariloche has the scenery. Hands down.

San Carlos de Bariloche

I arrived in Patagonia on Thursday morning. I flew from Buenos Aires (BA) to San Carolos de Bariloche, which is located in the heart of the Argentine Lake District. The flight in (and out for that matter) was interesting as the plane first winds through high alpine peaks and then lands in a barren dessert. That's Patagonia for you. Dessert and Mountains. Some flowers and trees and what not, but it's truly odd terrain. I guess away from the water sources it kinda looks like New Mexico (but that's not really a fair comparison).

The strangest thing happened to me when I got to my hotel in Bariloche. I started unpacking my bags, and I found these random bottles of Miel de Abeja aka Honey something... Not mine. Nothing was missing from my bag, I just feel bad for the poor Argentine who has lost their year's supply of this. Even better, I left my shampoo/conditioner in the hotel on my way out of town. I called the hotel and asked them to send it in a cab (they must have thought I was crazy, but trust me, an Argentine cab is way cheaper than another bottle of shampoo and conditioner). So, the cab shows up at the airport as I'm leaving Bariloche, and there's a plastic bag in the passenger's seat: my shampoo, conditioner, and these two freakin' bottles of Miel de Abeja. I had to take a picture, since the bottles were following me around Patagonia.

I spent my time in Patagonia walking around the ski town area, doing a zipwire/canopy course, and going white water rafting on the Manso River (right up to the Chilean border). Email me if you want a picture of me on the zipwire.

Bariloche is the main South American ski resort, that being said, it's summer time now so it's a summer destination too. I heard more Hebrew than Spanish in the town. The place was overrun with Israeli backpackers. I had intended to rent a car and drive the Circuito Chico (small circuit), but there were no cars to be had. I improvised, driving the majority of it along the way to the zipwire. I took a video from one of the panoramic views, but I'll have to post it separately. Here's a great shot from a lookout point along the Circuito Chico. It's looking out at Lake Nahuei Huapi:


I was in Bariloche for New Years Eve. I had no plans to do anything, but at about 1030pm, I checked my email and saw a message from a traveller I had met in Iguazu Falls. He was in Bariloche for New Years Eve and was asking where I would be. I felt terrible, because I had seen the email previously, but didn't open it. I quickly responded and decided to head for walk outside to see what was going on in town. As I'm walking out of the hotel lobby, I heard his voice...he and his family were in the same hotel. In a rather uneventful New Years Eve, we walked to the main drag of town to find out nothing was going on, had a beer, watched the full moon rise over the lake, and called it a night.

I woke up early New Years Day to head to the Manso river. It was about a two hour drive away, mostly on unpaved roads. We got the spot, they served us cafe con leche, which I now realize was to warm us up for what was ahead. We had to wear wetsuits, along with wetsuit jackets and boots. They were quite the lifesavers. The water was freezing. The rapids were great. Class III and IV. And the instructor was hilarious, he had a great sense of humor (even in English). There were some tourists from DC and El Salvador on my raft and we all had a great time. Toward the end, as we were approaching the Chilean border, our guide invited us to jump out for a swim. I decided that it couldn't be that cold. So I jumped in. It was shockingly cold at first, but the wetsuit really did the trick and I was fine. The river we went down reminded me of some path leading to a lost city. There were high mountain walls, jungles, and mountains in the distance. Some of the mountains looked very windswept and the forests were mostly old growth, which made them look like jungles. I was hoping we'd find El Doraldo at the end of our ride.

Water Water Everywhere!

Just to give you a sense of how much water is in Iguazu. This is a video of the Devil's Throat. There are also dozens of other falls, but none compare to this one in terms of quantity of water.