20 - Where the Penguins Roam (Ushuaia)

Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, ARGENTINA - 28 december 2002

Pablo and I had yet another farewell hug at yet another airport. The last time was in Moscow, Russia when I saw him off at the airport and then, I had made my way to the nothernmost town of my entire trip - St. Petersburg.

Now, in turn, he saw me off at the airport and I would be making my way to the southernmost town of my entire trip - Ushuaia.

As the plane flew over Ushuaia, getting ready to land, I saw before me the most beautiful landscape I could ever recall from the air.

The snowy and craggy mountains stretched nearly to the edge of the bay. The mountains were simply breath-taking and I was lost for words. I gaped from my window, stupefied. The lady from my next seat had to ask me to sit back so that she could partake of the view as well. The pretty little town of Ushuaia sat at the bottom of the mountains, in front of the bay. I kept thinking where exactly I was on the map and I just could not get used to it.

I got off the plane and studied the people around me. I figured that this was probably the closest I ever got to rubbing shoulders with polar explorers, research biologists and people rich enough to afford the Antarctica cruises.

The air was absolutely crisp, fresh and cool. I left a 35°C Buenos Aires and arrived at a 7°C Ushuaia. I was enchanted by the colourful flowers all over town. I later learnt from a Chiliean that they are called ‘chochos’, they look like ears of corns in purple, pink, orange, etc… Delightful.

The sun was shining but the wind vicious. Many Argentine flags had tattered ends as they probably had been subjected to the relentless wind for ages.

Taking out my wind-breaker, I nearly lost it to oblivion. Standing by the dock, I nearly got tossed into the Beagle Channel. I tried to enjoy the outdoors and the sunshine by walking around but it was a tad difficult when you imagined your eye-lashes could be swept out to Antarctica any moment.

As I had just rejoined the ‘backpackers’ circuit after a two-month hiatus, frankly, I needed some time to get used to it again. I was not in the mood yet to chat with anybody… you know, the usual backpackers’ talk… “So, where are you from?”, “Are you just doing South America?”, “How long are you travelling for?”, “Where are you heading off next?”… In fact, listening to English being spoken in the next table in the café I was in, already disorientated me.

Here in Ushuaia, the sun set at around 10:30pm or 11pm. Yet another near ‘White Night’. I remember writing about this phenomenon when I was in St. Petersburg in summer. Then, I had giggled from my bed when I looked out of the window at midnight and could still observe the after-sunset blue. Now, nearly half a year later, I was in Ushuaia, in summer again, and experiencing the same phenomenon.

Two near ‘White Nights’ in one year. For someone whose natural habitat is on the Equator where the sun rises and sets at the same time everyday of the year, this was really a fantastic experience!


Ushuaia, ARGENTINA - 29 december 2002

I headed to Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego in the morning. I had wanted to do this trek alone. I figured it would be a nice walk in the woods, totally immersed with nature.

I got off at the start of the trail with Paul, from England. He had just returned from a US$4000 10-day Antarctica cruise. See, I told you I would be rubbing shoulders with one of these luminaries.

We did the first 2km or so of the Coastal Path together. He did not mind doing this stretch of the trail with me but I feared I was slowing him down as he still wanted to conquer other more strenuous trails later. I kept urging him to feel free to move on ahead. In the end, he disappeared into the woods, never to be spotted by me again.

As I made my way through the woods by myself, I realised THIS was the way to enjoy nature. Ever so often, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened. The gentle lapping of the waves from the bay… the occasional distant songs from birds… the rustling of the leaves as the shifting wind blew over… the soft pecking of the trunks by invisible woodpeckers… I would miss all these if I had been walking with someone. We would be chatting away, totally clueless. Even if we did not talk and I had stopped in my track, the sound of the other person’s movements, the rubbing of his pants as he walked, his footsteps, would drown these subtle and gentle natural melodies.

I finished the Coastal Path and sat in front of the Lapataia Bay and had a sandwich. There were two possible trails from here and I tried to decide which one I would take. I decided to walk the Lago Roca trail to the border of Chile-Argentina. Hmmm… to walk through the woods to the border of two countries… Yep, there was a nice frontier ring to it.

I made my way along the lake and at some point, got myself a little lost. When you start having to turn away from sheer drops, or crawling through very narrow gaps between huge boulders, or getting pricked every so often, you could pretty much guess you had strayed from the required trail.

I could see no yellow poles for a while now. Either I turned back or I persevered on, hoping the yellow pole was just around the corner. In the end, to my relief, I spotted the ‘3km’ sign some distance away but I had to clamber on top of huge boulders and slide down a little slope unglamourously to reach it.

At the end of the trail, there was an orange obelisk-thingie and a sign ‘LIMITE INTERNACIONAL - NO PASAR / NO TRESPASSING’. I was naughty, I crossed into Chile illegally and did a wander around to test if there were hidden snipers or laser-triggered machine guns. Nope.

I sat by the lake and stared ahead of me at the mountains opposite. The wind was extremely strong by the lake. I stood up, put on my Peruvian ‘alpaca, baby alpaca’ woolly cap and my Langmusi (Tibetan town in China) fashion-challenged gloves. Then, I re-sat by the lake and stared ahead of me at the mountains opposite.

I mentally noted my geographical location on the globe. This was a moment to treasure, to savour.


Ushuaia, ARGENTINA - 30 december 2002

I had complained about the high cost of sending post from Argentina but I made an exception today. I wrote a postcard to myself, a ‘Happy New Year’ greeting and sent it from el fin del mundo [the end of the world]. I wonder what I would make of it when I return home in a few months and read this postcard.

I took a boat ride down the Beagle Channel to veer near islands with resting cormorants and lounging sea-lions.

The way cormorants fly is great. They flutter their wings desperately ever so close to the water as they try to gain height and swoop away. I loved watching them take off. If I was not misinformed, their wings are not waterproof, hence, they need to stand around the island and dry their wings after that… which was what they were doing most of the time on the islands.

The sea-lions dozed away and lumbered around sleepily and grumpily. A few babies clustered together near their mommies.

On the boat was this guy, with a Texan drawl, from my hostel – Regi. He told me he had been doing some research to see how he could get to the Antarctica cheaply. He claimed that he always wanted to head out there because it was the last continent he had not set foot on. He was not too keen on those 10-day cruises, he just wanted to set foot on Antarctica.

Oh, sigh… I guess, all sorts of travellers exist. I did not agree with what he was saying but I exercised supreme self-control by clamming up, not saying a word and simply nodding away politely. Unsolicited, he went on to fortify my knowledge with his past trips and adventures. Well, once everything was out of the way, I guess I should be nice to say he was NOT THAT BAD a company.