Glacierland

---

El Calafate

Another long trip - 24 hrs - brought me through Rio Gallegos, the capital of the Santa Cruz region of Argentina, to the much visited town of El Calafate. In Argentina you just cannot avoid these long bus rides unless you fly everywhere or just endure the long trips on some other mode of transport, like the popular Navimag (which I would love to go on if only the price did not exceed my budget by so much). I spoke with a Dutch man yesterday about this detail. Since no more than a 5 hour car ride is required to travel between any two points in Holland, he said, Argentina puts Dutch peeps in an "interesting situation" (ie this is very weird for them).

El Calafate is another one of those towns whose existence is due solely to tourism. The big boy of the attractions in the area is the Perito Moreno glacier. I happened to visit this big boy on a lovely day which even included a visit by Cristina Kirchner, the Argentinan president along with all the noise, both positive an negative, that follows her. And noise was what was drawing the visitors' attention - the glacier, in its slow yet constant movement, creaks and groans and every once in a while a chunk will fall off into Lake Argentina to make a thundering noise and a cool visual display. The electric blues and soft pinks of the glacier made me wish for a better camera. I was there from 10 until 5 - plenty of time to soak in the magnificence of the glacier.

El Chalten

The other, very compelling reason to go to El Calafate. From El Calafate I took a 3 hour bus ride north to El Chalten, a tiny, colourful town nestled inside the fabulous Fitz Roy range. Because of its placement, El Chalten is dubbed "the hiking capital of Argentina". There really is little to do but hike. Consequently the makeup of the tourist population changes a bit - more French travelers, mainly, and these a bit older than I am used to on my travels. I was suprised to hear from a young French girl that hiking is considered in France as an "old folks' hobby" - a shame in a country that boasts the Alps and the Pyrenees.

Upon arrival in El Chalten the bus stopped at the conservation office for a 10 minute talk on hiking etiquette. I have never seen such care taken of a national park. Everyone was reminded of regular, common sense hiking etiquette plus some extra rules designed to maintain the potability of the local water sources. As a result, even though thousands of hikers must pass through here each year, the area is practically virgin land. The animals are still unafraid of humans - as if they have never seen or tasted humans before. For example, there is no reason to be afraid of pumas - the second day I was there I heard reports of someone seeing a puma and her cub from 3 meters away! In Canada, of course, you rarely see a cougar unless you are in its dinner plans.

Soonafter I had settled in a hostal, I set off for my first hike. The weather was very kind while I powerhiked to Laguna Torre, a lagoon positioned well enough to get a good closeup view of Cerro Torre. The terrain is absolutely enchanting: dried, gnarly trees waiting the summer out, winding creeks, a river with crystal clear water made opaque only by the odd rapid, granite outcroppings, sedimentary hillsides, pools and lagoons boasting blues I have only dreamed of - all add up to a spectacular landscape which can only be expressed in its details. One thing I found strange was that what is ordinarily grey elsewhere had a tinge of blue - stones, dry logs, you name it - probably having something to do with the light coming off the surrounding glaciers and snow-laden mountains. A powerhike back had me at the hostel by sundown for a night of sleep broken up occasionally by the forte notes of my bunkmate's snoring.

The next morning had me set off on the longest day hike El Chalten has to offer (you could probably make your own, longer day hike but such originality is frowned upon in this virgin land). Unfortunately the weather decided that I hadn't showered enough the previous night. Despite the rain I had a good time alongside an 71 year-old American ex-biochemist who had much to say and cared little for the listening part of conversation. Nevertheless, her opinions on the current issues of the US and the role Obama will play in its future were quite entertaining. Once she left me to return to the warmth of her hostal, I attacked the last, steep slope with my powerhiking skills and arrived finally at the foot of the glorious Fitz Roy! Or at least that's what I was told. The cloudy conditions made any sighting of the enormous monolith impossible. But the glaciers at its foot and the two lagoons (one quite inaccessible) at this mountaintop were rewarding enough. Everything was wet - at one point I managed to slip and fall hard in front of a worried, international audience of American, Japanese, French, Argentinan, and German individuals. After I brushed the incident off in as suave a manner as I could, an American pointed out that if I had slipped on the other side of the hill I would have plunged through the mist to a rocky resting place 200 ft below. It's a good thing I didn't descend down that side. On the way back I met up with a Norwegian couple and their Dutch friend with whom I powerwalked back to the hostal, trying to keep up with their long strides. The night was spent trying to dry my belongings.

The third and last day at El Chalten I embarked on a short 1 hr walk to the Chorrillos del Salto waterfall. The sky had cleared up beautifully. It was a gorgeous day and my camera battery died. At the bottom of the falls I took ten minutes to briefly sketch the place and followed by exploring the area and feeling the mist settle on my skin. Another brief hike took me above the waterfall where I found some water pools and some more falls. There was no pool deep enough to try any cliff jumping, sadly. But there were a camera-happy lady with her 2 sons and a girlfriend whom I chatted with for a bit. The lady happened to have a Sony camera and the exact battery my Sony uses, so I got her to use her camera-happiness on me for a few minutes. Then, after determining that the pool closest to the main waterfall was the best for swimming, I stripped down to my nickers and jumped in. GZZHH!!! The cold I felt took a good 1/2 hour in the sun to wear off and another period of time was required to dry myself off sufficiently enough to put my clothes back on. I wasn't prepared at all for a dip, but whateva'... A little more exploring in the hillsides and around the river and I was back in town, eating an exquisite roast Patagonian lamb. Then I picked an appropriate grassy knoll and lay down for a lazy afternoon nap in the sun, waiting for the time to catch my bus. And then it was back to El Calafate for a day of catching up with traveling responsibilities.

---

Photos

Above Chorrillos del Salto
Beside the pool I took a dip in