Cape Horn and the Long Frocks

---

I retired in February 2008 and to celebrate such a momentous "Life Event" going on a major trip seemed more attractive than just applying for my free bus travel pass to mark the transition from employed person to retiree. South America as a destination always had a pull especially following the fleeting visit we had made a few years back to see the Iguazu Falls. On that occasion we had passed through Buenos Aires and on the back of the little we had seen it was agreed that Argentina might be more worthy of examination than just the 4 days we had spent dashing up to the magnificent Falls and then returning breathless to the UK.
So it was in the months prior to my departing the working life that an itinery was put together which would see us once again returning to Buenos Aires to begin another South American adventure but this time not only would we be heading off in the opposite direction from our original visit - i.e. South - but we would be touring around for a month or more.
Our trip began with a couple of nights stay in the capital at the Dandi Royal Hotel which gave us a fine base and just enough time to reacquaint ourselves with the sights from our previous visit such as the restaurants on the Waterfront - not the most comfortable place for Vegetarians which, thankfully, I'm not - and the likes of the impromptu Street Theatre whereby young couples in the Pedestrian areas set up a portable stereo and then perform the most exciting, passionate performance of the Tango to the accompaniment of amplified music. We took the tour to where the Tango had its roots in the Dockland and Shipyard area of Boca and marvelled at the multi-coloured houses which became that way because workers used to bring home the half-used cans of paint from the yards and regardless of what colour the boat had been they were building it was that which was applied to their homes to brighten things up.
However, although Buenos Aires had much more to offer - indeed, the Dandi Royal was also a Tango Dance School and Academy - we couldn't stay for we had a date with the Chilean Fiords to the south and with a tinge of regret about what we were leaving behind we made our way to the domestic airport and caught our flight to Ushuaia, the world's southern-most city.
Arrival in Ushuaia was to be a bit of a cultural shock for the bleakness of the surrounding landscape and the more immediate scenery put me in mind of the Falklands Islands, a posting I had narrowly missed when I served in the RAF and an area that I had researched in depth when there had been a real possibility of my being sent there back in the 1980s. However, whatever anxieties the comparison may have generated in my mind they were quickly dispelled when we were collected by the hotel transfer bus and made the short trip from the airport to our stay for two nights, the Tolkeyen Hotel, a grand log-cabin of a place on the western outskirts of the town with every comfort and where it seemed the friendly staff had no hang-ups about their country's claim to the Malvinas which was as near to this point on the globe as I was ever likely to reach. We spent two days in Ushuaia and in that time managed to fit in a tour of the Tierra del Fuego National Park where it seemed that anything that was deemed to be of any significance was given the prefix of "The World's most Southernly ..." as in the Golf Course which was seen on the approach to the park's entrance being billed on its gateway as "The World's most Southernly Golf Course". Well something, somewhere, has to be, doesn't it?
However, this was merely passing the time until the arrival of our vessel when we could set forth on the real reason for us being here which was, of course, boarding our ship the MS Australis which was to take us on a cruise around the islands, inlets and fiords of the Chilean coast; an adventure which would take four days. Our companions (Shipmates?) were a fairly cosmopolitan lot and we numbered about 100 of various nationalities. There were Americans both North and South; a few New Zealanders and, with us counted amongst the number, a bunch of Europeans. For the majority it was a case of being just the right side of Middle-age but there was, noticeable by not entirely fitting with the demographic, a quartet of elderly Italian ladies who did not seem to be in tune with the rest of us adventurous thrusters who were looking forward to the prospect of exploring the rugged islands and shores that had been promised in the brochures.
The first order from the Bridge was that we needed to organise ourselves into groups of 7 or 8 and claim one of the circular dining tables in the Mess Deck/Restaurant area. This was destined to be the seating plan for our time on board whenever we took our meals so there was a brief flurry of activity as folks quickly eyed each other up along with any vacant places that remained. We quickly allied ourselves with a bunch of people who seemed to share our outlook on life and an agreeable choice it was too. There was an American trio - Mom, Dad and Eldest Daughter - who had just recently finished a 6 month travelling down the Colorado river on a raft (never did ask them how they coped with the Hoover Dam); there was a young English couple who were taking a few months out from their hi-powered city jobs and then there was us two and I was never too sure what the others thought of about the prospect of being saddled with our company for the duration of the cruise!
So it was that we set off for the most delightful experience of 4 days of cruising around the southern most tip of the South American continent with our ship taking us into various inlets of the mainland and to the many islands that are dotted around this most spectacular coastline. Wherever possible we would disembark from the security of the Australis into a pair of Zodiac Inflatable craft for excursions to nearby fiords or islands. Clad in in Wet-weather clothing and safe in the embrace of a Lifejacket we looked and felt like pioneers or intrepid explorers as we sped across the short stretches of water to whatever destination had been chosen. We saw Cape Horn up close and personal; we went into fiords and saw the stunning vista of Glaciers doing that slo-flow thing down mountain sides and calfing their icebergs into the icy waters around us; we delighted in the sight of so many different seabirds wheeling about and resenting our intrusions into their domain; we went onto islands where migrating Penguins were conducting a few months of selective breeding before moving on to wherever it is that Penguins go when they are finished with the family raising; we explored islands where some of the first settlers had left their traces but were very careful to make sure we left none of our own. Whenever we completed one of these "missions" it was to return to the ship and in a state of high excitement would share with each other the details of our deeds and daring do, usually continuing the conversation over the evening meal.
All of us, that is, except the Italian Ladies who clearly were never going to be physically capable of clambering over the stern of the ship to transfer into the Zodiacs or to put up with the requirement to sit on the side of these craft whilst hanging on for dear life as we bounced our way across the wave tops. No, these ladies spent the whole voyage sitting as a dignified foursome around a card table playing something that seemed to my eye to be akin to Canasta. Any expedition we would passed by them as we struggled our way into our protective clothing and they would be dealing the deck to begin yet another tournament. On our return they would seem not to have moved and, indeed, I was unsure if they had even bothered to look out of the large picture windows such was they intense concentration on the playing cards as we made our way back to our cabins wet and somewhat bedraggled. It would be shortly thereafter when we had changed for Dinner that we would get our next encounter for they had obviously also taken an opportunity to dress for dinner and we would be charmed by the sight of all four of them wearing long dresses and costume jewelery and fit for the formality of dining at the Captain's Table (of which there wasn't one). It was an incongruous sight given that the rest of us had signed up for this trip aware of it being more of a floating youth hostel and equipped ourselves accordingly so that dressing for dinner meant that we tried to put on the least crumpled T-shirt and slacks. Whereas our Italian dowagers must have been under the impression that this "cruise" was going to be something along the lines of a Cunard 5 star luxury Mediterranean with a bit of cold weather thrown in. Whatever their misunderstanding may have been - if indeed, it was a misunderstanding - I shall silently thank them in being able to recall with clarity the holiday where I ventured the most Southernmost whilst meandering amongst the most stunning scenery for it will be filed in my fond memories as "Cape Horn and the Long Frocks".

---