The scenery on the trip across the border to Argentina was beautiful. In Chile there were many little lakes, grazing cattle, horse riding farmers and a spectacularly colourful clothes market in the otherwise drab and run-down looking Orsorno. Street after street was emblazened with roadside sellers of clothes. With their wares spread out on the ground and throngs of people hunting for bargains it was an incredible spectacle. Climbing up the steep roads into the Andes the mountains became rugged and jagged bedecked on the lower slopes with trees just beginning to turn to autumnal colours so little patches of russet tinged the tips of the trees. Crossing the border and entering Argentina the scenery contined to be wonderful. The mountains seemed to get more and more defined and turning down the aptly named Seven Lakes Road we passed beautiful sparkling blue lakes. A couple with beaches, others not, but all in glorious situations and competing with greens blues and white-greys to find the most vivid colour combinations. With the quiet road cutting through it I just found it so attractive and just as I might have pictured a typical Andean scene. My destination of Bariloche was perched on the banks of one of the lakes, Nahuel Huapi, was bounded by hills and mountains and with many stone and wood built buildings within the town and altogether was very pretty. Of course there was also the typical, I think, South American building site feel to the place too. There is always some constuction or repair works being undertaken which seem to get left mid-work as another job is started and landscaping just doesn´t happen at all. The rough bare ground just gets left for weeds to grow and dogs to make beds in. You just have to realise that priorities are different here and you always get the mix of rough and ready and stunningly picturesque next door to each other. After a spending some time enjoying the town I took a bus out to explore some of the local National Park a bit further. Arriving at the settlement of Villa Los Cohiues, at the head of Lago Gutierrez and with a little pebble beach,sparkling blue water, tree lined edges and high mountains overlooking it, it was a lovely start to the day. I followed the gravel road past holiday homes, new build and numerous dogs. Everywhere you go whether it be city, mountain, countryside or village, dogs abound. Mostly living rough or stray but often just wandering from their homes - they tend to live outside and are never put on a lead. None have ever seemed aggressive though and either just pad about snuffling around or, more commonly, just lie flat out somewhere looking overheated and exhausted. Anyway, I reached the park control gates and took the track through some lovely cool woods and up to a little stram and gentle waterfall - Cascada de Los Duendes. I was joined by a few very inquisitive little birds - bigger than robins and a bluey-black colour but with the orange-red breast they scooted about non-stop and were very entertaining to watch. I continued heading up the steep sandy and tree root laden path until I reached the lookout point. The view to the hills and to the lake was stunning. The hilltop behind was craggy and kind of turreted along its crest - a bit like a row of warriers waiting to attack. The trees were largely green and erect but with some ghostly pale and dead looking. The lake was gleeming bright blue. The reflection of the mountain opposite was beautiful and the hills stretched way off to the distant horizon. Just like some glossy travel mag´s typical Andean scene. I walked down through the trees until they petered out and were replaced by high bushes, grass and gorse with the sandy path becoming increasingly stoney. It was lovely and sheltered from the light breeze and with the heat, the mountains and the yellowy-green colourings I felt like I could have been in some Western film set. I was just thinking to myself that even should Clint Eastwood come riding by in Stetson and poncho it wouldn´t surprise me when I rounded a corner and came face to face with a horse - though no gaucho! It had an old frayed rope halter trailing looses but no sign of a rider and it wandered contentedly so I presume it was half feral now. Not much later, after crossing a couple of vitually dry creeks, I took a path leading down to Playa Muñoz. Reentering the trees I went back down a steep sandy path until I got back to the lake. It was almost flat calm, near perfect reflections, and absolute peace and tranquility with only a little road noise from Ruta 40 on the other side floating across. It was so beautiful with the little shingle beach, old bleached tree trinks, stones and clear water. It was amazing how deep and cold the water got quickly, thereby failing the paddle test let alone swimming! It was an easy place to while away a day until I retraced my steps and caught a bus back to town.
Seeing the horse in the park really put me in the mood for a bit of riding so that was next on my agenda. Collected from the hostel a small group of us were taken to some fields on the edge of town where Sebastien, our guide, had his horses grazing. The saddles were old and not overly comfy but at least they were there and I got onto my horse called Pampa. Once everyone was saddled up we set off. It was a slow plod to begin with, across the fields and round some back roads before crossing the main road and starting to work our way uphill. At first we were just on the dirt roads around verious houses but gradually the paths got narrower and sandier and we filed into a single line as we trekked through the bush forest. Very undulating ground meant I was happy for the hose to be doing the walking and not me - though my bum wished it had a comfier seat! Breaking through the trees the view across and down Lake Nahuel Huapi was stunning. It was again almost flat calm and we could see up and down its length to the hills beyond, over Bariloche way below us and across the forrest through which we´d climbed. (Val, I thought of you on a pony above Drum looking down Loch Ness! Have you been back again yet?) Reaching a clearing at the top we dismounted and had a very welcome stretch of the legs before setting off downhill again. Pampa had led most of the way up and as soon as I got back on she was off again eagerly leading us down, but gingerly finding her feet on some of the steep sandy sections. Once we got back to the wider tracks we were able to break out into a canter, which is much easier than a jolting trot and so much more fun than a slow plod, until we got back to the houses and reverted back to walking. Back where we started I was quite happy to dismount and have a comfier car seat for the trip back to town. I rewarded myself for my efforts with a fantastic ice-cream - once I´d sussed out the complicated queueing system! Paying first at a till you then go and get a ticket, then when your number is called you exchhange it and your receipt for your ice-cream. It was all very complicated but fortunately my stawberry ice was more than worth it - a huge couple of scoops with big chunks of strawberry piled high into the bowl. Yummy!
My final visit from Bariloche was out to Cerro Campanirio, one of the hills not far from town. Reaching the bottom of the hill you can either take a chairlift up or walk through the trees. Knowing how I feel about chair lifts you´ll not be surprised to hear I walked! Almost straight away the path became a steep climb up loose sandy soil. It was tough going and I´d barely gone 10 minutes before I had to stop for a rest! Moving on again I met 3 horse-trekkers on their descent a few minutes later and stepped aside to let them past. Looking up I saw the end of the chairlift not far above me. In my garbled Spanish I thought I´d asked how long the climb took and had been told an hour, but either I misunderstood the answer or was given the time for a round trip, because scrambling up the last rocky section I made it to the top in only 20 minutes or so. Anyway, my exertions were amply rewarded by the views. Looking out over the various lakes all around and the surrounding mountains you could see for miles. On an absolutely clear day I think you can see seven lakes. I don´t know how many I saw as it wasn´t obvious whether one or two were separate or one large mass of water, but regardless it was spectacular. Watching and admiring for a while I then set off back down the hill. It was almost as hard going down as up because the sandy soil was so slippery but I was soon safe at the bottom again and caught my bus back to Bariloche. When it came there were lots of schoolkids on board and more got on and off as we went. It was really quite funny as all the kids seem to wear white lab-coat type jackets for going to school so it just looked like a bunch of little scientists on an outing! Back in town I got the wonderful aroma of grilling steak coming from a street cart with a long queue of Argentinians waiting as he cooked strips of steak, chorizo and hamburgers to order. Always using queuing locals at a food outlet as a good sign I joined the queue and after a long wait I finally got a delicious, and cheap, steak sandwich with salad and a drink. The beef was absolutely delicious and tender and cooked just as I like it. What with good steak, lovely ice-cream, and free breakfasts and dinners at the hostel, Bariloche certainly looked afer me well food wise! It was time to move on though.
Route 40 is legendary in Argentina, being an almost completely gravel road running the full length of the country down the Western side. Me being me, I decided I had to travel at least a substantial section of it too and organised to travel down it to El Calafate in the south of the country. Having heard horror stories from other travellers of tests of endurance over the 30 or 40 hour trip, and being well warned by the woman at the ticket counter that it was just a basic bus, no frills, and with the ticketing company called El Garrobal (pronounced el harrobal) I hoped it wasn´t going to be "El Horriblë". Half expecting a ramshackle town minibus to turn up I was almost slightly disappointed when a perfectly normal intercity bus turned up! Although long and obviously rattley as we bumped along the gravel road it was a perfectly normal journey and standard of service was no different from any other intercity bus service in any other country I´ve been in - just not as all inclusive a SA bus companies usually are. The landscape as we crossed Patagonia was a seemingly endless expanse of barren yellow grass tussocks and some thorny looking little bushes. The sandy soil was stone splattered, partly natural and partly thrown from the road by passing vehicles. There is no keep right requirement ant vehicles travel the path of best fit. There was some but not a lot of traffic so it was a rare occassion when we met another vehicle. Although wide and expansive it was also undulating with at times many turns and occasional steep climbs, descents or hairpin bends. There wer lots of tiny birds flitting around the grasses and an odd one or two larger ones aswell. A couple of llama-like guanacos wandered around and several rheas (flightless mini ostrich/emu cross type birds). Grazing sheep, a herd of wild (perhaps) horses and just a few cows completed the wildlife tally. Stopping at one petrol station acouple of harassed looking older women served teas and coffees with that small town air of surprise that a bus load of people should appear - despite the fact that it happens every second day! I smiled to myself as the "glammier" one of the two wandered about with her painted nails, matching top and trousers and cigarette in holder collecting empty cups! A real latin look. With much upgrading work being done on the road (no doubt it will be sealed in the future) we had several diversions and stops to make. Arriving in the little town of Perito Morena it was announced we´d have a 4.5hr break before continuing. With nothing at the terminal other than a petrol station and nothing but a couple of kids and a few snoozing dogs to be seen in the ghostly quiet little town it was a long wait. Finally continuing the journey the terrain was ostensibly similar to before, but became more and more hilly. Big steep sided drops around possibly wind carved ridges and vertical channels in the ground created corrugated like cliffs. Mostly with flat hill tops there would be some craggy areas and as we twisted up and down it became lunar like. The colours too were amazing - for the most part dusty grey but sometimes yellow and at times red patches to the earth and rocks. I love dit and with the sun starting to set the light was lovely. After a time we crossed a few creeks and marshy areas with geese and ducks taking full advantage. Little pockets of green trees popped up where there was more water and a little farm estancion. As the light disappeared I fell asleep again and woke to early morning rain in El Chalten as we dropped off some passengers. En route from there to Calafate we had a brief stop at a little cafe in the middle of nothing. With a huge fire in the hearth, steaming hot coffee and a nice looking selection of cakes and pastries (though I resisted the temptation it being still too early even for me) it was fine stop. Continuing through the rain on the last part of the journey the rivers got more and more milky pale aquamarine in colour with quite substantial overspill into the surrounding fields, and then we reached our destination. Spread out buildings with a compact centre, it had a welcoming air to the place. After a doze and a lazy day I walked round the almost alpine feeling wooden buildings in town and down to Laguna Nimez. Obviously not short of rain of late the little info hut was completely flooded but I watched a selection of birds on the water: ducks, black headed swans and pink flamingos! It was a super mix and I hadn´t expected to see the flamingos in the south of the country so it was real bonus for me. It was a nice ending to my route 40 trip and fine welcome to Calafate.
I went on a boat trip on Lag Argentina to visit some of the glaciers in the area and although the weather was somewhat dubious - cold and wet - there was still a lot of incredible stuff to see. Even the morning trip to the port was attractive with a watery sun casting a golden glow over the hills and lake and a rainbow perfectly positioned between the two. Lago Argentina is the largest in the country and we travelled up its northern arm in water which is a very milky pale blue colour thanks to the glacial washed minerals. As we cruised up the lake we gradually saw little lumps of ice in the water then big lumps then big ice-bergs. The colour and texture was amazing: pretty smooth sided lumps; ridges of ice; holey (like Swiss cheese); big jagged points; layered slabs and great bars. One big pitted berg was dirty black but others were pearl white and others various shades of blue from pale to dark. Constantly battered by water and wind the bergs, which are broken from the faces of the glaciers turn and roll in the water as the erosion alters their balance. The darkest blue is on the freshest ice out the water gradually fading to white as air and elements take effect then blackening as dust settles or sediment within is exposed. We then reached the Spegzzini Glacier which was incredible. So blue faced and towering 400 feet high, textured and wide. Another catamaran looked dwarfed as it went along dodging in and out of the bergs, as we did too, giving a better sense of scale. After a while there we moved to the Upsula Glacier. Although not the highest or widest in the National Park it is the largest overall and with the front face having collapsed just the week before there were still lots of huge chunks of ice all around in the water. The misty cloud really prevented us seeing back up the mountains from which it stretches though. We headed round then to Onelli Bay where we docked and were able to walk up through the lovely green lichen treed woods to the lake of the same name. There are three further glaciers on it though I was only able to spot Agazzi and Bolado faintly in the distance. Onelli was hiding for the day! Despite the rain it was a pretty spot with high cliffs, little waterfall, green mossy woods and the milky lake. Heading for home we came across a berg which had turned just minutes earlier. It was so deep blue, the water around so flat and ice filled that it was a bit eerie. It was all so quiet and still - at Spegazzi in particular there was constant cracking and growling but here it was silent. Edging round the newly exposed ice it was wonderful viewing but soon we left and made our way back to Puerto Bandera. I´d enjoyed the trip not least because of the glaciers but also observing the people on board. Mostly Argentinian there was a lovely friendly atmosphere with the mix between old and young being very relaxed and natural with lots of easy cross-conversations going on and mate being sipped and drunk throughout the day by the vast majority (that´s the Argentinian favourite of a herby tea which is packed into tumblers, topped up with hot water regularly and sipped through a straw type filter). I like seeing these traditional customs of a country being maintained and not taken over by internationally available brands.
Having done the boat trip I was looking forward to going to internationally famous Glacier Moreno and I wasn´t to be disappointed. Travelling to the park we got glimpses through the clouds but once we arrived at the park and walked down the paths the glacier was awesome even wirh the icy snow particles blowing through. Tall, wide, multitextured like sliced polystyrene, whipped meringue and marble all at once. The milky blue-grey lake was calm with lumps of ice which had fallen from the leading edge floating around its base. It was almost V-shaped at the front matching the turn of the lake which it eats up. The front is about 50m high and about 4kn wide. The noise too is incredible like great gunshots or blasting of dynamite followed by thundering peels meant it was rarely silent as all the ice fractures cracked and creaked. Great chunks would fall off periodically and crash into thr water creating a little tidal wave effect, then little ice booms would form with the icy water contained within being mirror calm while the lake rippled outside the boundary. The sightseeing boats looked tiny in comparison. Glacier Moreno advances an incredible 2metres per day at thr centre, 40cm at the edges and stretches 180m below the water level. Chunks falling got bigger and more frequent - one clearly sending shock waves strong enough to loosen another section and so on. Pieces breaking underwater would result in great bubbling and spray with ice popping up to the surface eventually forming a little dam. Back in 2004 a dam even reached the shore but eventually water pressure forced its way through creating a tunnel then re-clearing the path a few weeks later. Even as I watched it was amazing how much its appearence changed over the course of the day. Another great experience for me.
On leaving Calafate the bus journey took me over more of the flat barren Patagonian landscape with just a few guanacos, grey foxes, rheas and horses scuttling about or hunched up against the wind and snow blowing through. The wildlife may have been slightly different but it reminded me of a bleak wintery Scottish moor. Finally we reached the slightly run down and ramshackle mining town of Rio Turbio which marked the border back into Chile and then it was only a short drive to Puerto Natales which allowed me to spend a day in Torres Del Paine National Park. It was just magnificent with jaw-droppingly stunning scenery. We had a brief stop at Cueva del Miloden where remains of the now extinct giant sloth like Miloden (it walked on all fours or its hind legs using its thick tail as a kind of stabiliser) were found in the late 1800s. Then it was off through wide grassy valleys with cattle and sheep grazing to the Paine mountains. The towering pillars of the Paine massif were craggy and majestic, and on the bright clear day just a thin ribbon of cloud hung round the summits. With the Andes on one side and the Paine range on the other we stopped at a vivid green lake (the only salt one in the area) and got even better and closer view of the enormous sheer walled crags of the Torres Towers: beautiful, imposing and massive! Moving on we stopped to watch the guanacos. One of the four members if the camel family found in Chile, they are generally sociable animals living in large herds with sentinals on guard duty around the hills on the lookout for pumas. Leaving them and another grey fox which had joined us behind(and after changing another flat tyre, my tour buses are definitely jinxed I reckon!) we skirted round Lagos Sarmiento and Nordenskjold to reach the waterfalls of Salto Grande. With a short walk over moorland with stunning hillside views we got to the river and falls which take the water from the lake Nordenskjold to Lago Pehoe 40m below. A real torrent of milky blue water the spray rose in great clouds, the sun picking out rainbows between the granite walls. It was lovely... and probably as much water as I´ve seen in all other waterfalls put together over the last few months! We had our lunchstop at a camping site on the shores of lake Pehoe. It was idyllic with yet more stunning views. (By now you´re probably getting the gist that I enjoyed the day and took numerous photos which will bore you all sometime in the future no doubt!) The campsite was well laid out with individual shelters and BBQs for each pitch - Chris I thought of you and reckon it´d be a good blueprint if you ever get your campsite on the go! Afterwards we drove through the wider flat valley floor across the expanses of grassland to Lago Grey. Walking through the trees from there took us down to a shingle beach and sandbank which we crossed over and went along the opposite stoney cliffside path to get fantastic views of the lake and the icebergs within it and down to the glacier at the far end. With the dramatic angular and jagged mountains, the ice, the twinkling water, the green hillsides and river it was a super spot to round off our visit to the park. Obviously the clear sunny weather on the day was a bonus but it was truly outstanding scenery, and what was brilliant was that our little tour of 8 people always seemed to be just ahead of other busloads of people so we were able to enjoy everywhere in peace and tranquility, and were leaving places just as the bigger busloads of folk started to arrive. An added bonus! I´d been toying whether or not to detour back into chile and this region but am so so glad I did.
Leaving Puerto Natales I started making my way back across to Argentina and down to Tierra del Fuego via an overnight stop in Punta Arenas. It is a strange mix of a city. Raggedy but busy streets lined with well-worn little properties and shops, but also with signs of past wealth. Big mansions surround the main square and numerous banking institutions line the streets around it. It was quite funny that as the last major town in Chile the place really had an end of the line uniqueness to it but at the same time the central square was like just about every other town square throughout the world and was full of older tenagers hanging out using the statue to hone their skateboarding and BMX skills - even in the rain! From Punta Arenas I caught the bus for Ushuaia and racing along in the pouring rain we got to the little ferry which would take us across the Magellan Strait. With the little deserted slipway, pouring rain and little ro-ro ferry it made me think of Calmac, Skipness and Arran! The crossing took just 15 minutes before we disembarked on the other side and I had finally reached Tierra del Fuego and Isla Grande. Another major milestone for me. We drove through the vast wet expanse of space for the next few hours and it reminded me of Northern Shetland: short yellow tuft grass, no treesm wet, featureless and only slightly undulating. It was a gravel road and we shuddered and shook along rhe windows getting progressvely muddier and muddier until they were completely obscured. With the road not wide enough for two vehicles over cae size we had to slow and slide to the sides when meeting oncoming vehicles - a perhaps surprisingly common occurence. At San Sebastian we crossed the border back into Argentina and onto paved road - apart from one section of ralley ride across more wet mud and gravel where we slid and weaved our way along at a real rate of knots. Finally stopping for fuel in Tolhuin, when we went to leave the bus wouldn't start again!! Fortunately after a bit of head scratching and looking in the engine we got a tow and it sprang into life! Eventually we reached Ushuaia and I had a real lump on my throat. After thinking about it for so long it seemed unreal that I'd actually made it there. It was akin to the feelongs I'd had when I got to Australia for the first time.
I had a brilliant time around the place. There was a friendly relaxed ambience at my hostel and the surrisingly sizeable city itself had a similar laid back feel. With the height of the tourist season past it wasn't too busy yet still had plenty of people around and the locals were constantly waving and greeting each other. It reminded me of Campbeltown of old. The city itself is bounded by the Beagle Channel to the front and lovely snow capped mountains behind. With the autumn colours turning on the trees it really appealed to me and I stayed for a good few days enjoying my visit. And, Is, I even managed to learn a new card game for us to try on my return!
Going on a boat trip om the Beagle channel I was in my element. The guide, called Carla, was enthusiastic and interested and quite apart from pointing out lots of interesting flora and fauna she even helped me with my Spanish and wrote a few notes for me to take away at the end if the trip! On the tour itself we went first to Bridges Island. The sun was blinking on the mountains and it was nice getting a view of the town from the sea. With the calm water I thought of Vancouver and West Coast Scotland. Arriving at the little island the colours, rocks, smell, seaweed, shingly shelly beach, tyres tied to the rocks at the jetty and the calm and air of solitude was all very familiar and homely feeling. We had a short walk to see some of the native plants but the bitter cold wind meant we didn´t linger for long, however as we climbed up onto the rise on the little isldand we stood pretty much in the middle of the channel and looked 90km one way towards the Pacific Ocean, 90km the other way to the Atlantic, and if your eyesight permitted 1000km across the last stretch of Chile was Antactica - as close as I was going to get on this journey of mine! Returning to the boat we passed a shell midden, a remnant from the Yaman people native to the area and dating back 6000 years or so. To counter the cold and wet which meant clothing was of little use as the people had no opertunity to dry the constantly wet skins they lived virtually naked, using only seal and whale blubber to grease their skins as a basic insulation against the elements. They must have been a hardy lot because even with my thermals and a welcomong hot chocolate back on the boat I could feel the cold! Chugging further along the channel there were lots of birds of a variety of kinds including the comical looking flightless steamer Ducks. They skim along the top of the water with a curious running motion and an almost rotational flapping of their wings. Very peculiar and funny to watch! We were then joined by lots of South american fur seals. They raced after the boat like a pod of dolphins jumping and surfing along in the bow wave. They´d race along heads popping up now and then to look how far away we were before almost visibly sighing and stopping to watch as we left their playground and chugged into the distance leaving them behind. After circling Faro Les Eclaireurs, the lighthouse popularly but incorrectly referred to as the lighthouse at the end of the world ( there is another at on Staten Island at the entrance to the channel) guards the stretch up to Ushuaia. Returning to port we spotted rock and king cormorants aplenty and also snowy sheathbills, dolphin gulls and many more. I´m telling you my awareness of different birds has markedly increased since I´ve been travelling. The challenge will be seeing if I remember even half of them in the future! We nosed round more rocky outcrops watching the sealions massed together in a big lazy lump then as we headed for home we were warmed with a local chocolate rum liquer which although typically SA sweet was tasty and pleasantly warming going down the throat and a nice end to the enjoyable trip.
Another place I enjoyed was my visit to the maritime museum, although why its called the maritime museum I don´t know because the maritime section was one hall containing half a dozen small models of old ships and that was about all. The rest of the place was dedicated to the old prison in which it is set and was far more interesting. Ushuaia was chosen as a penal colony for Argentina in the early 1900s and a prison was built at the edge of the then small town, constrycted by convicts themselves who would be transferred from the former military prison on Isla de los Estados. Apparently a real mix of extremely harsh treatment of forced hard labour, shackled prisoners, overcrowding and alledged ill-treatment, there were also a number of quite positive aspects: the jail had a bakery, farm area, other work rooms providing services for both the prison and the town at large, and latterly a hospital. Prisoners could be paid a small wage in return for their work in order to buy additional personal effects. the museum offered stories behind a few of the prisoners as well as outlining some of the work, escape attempts, and life and conditions for the warders and guards who also lived in the complex. A final section covered other famous jails around the world and I was delighted to see one section about Inverary Jail. Yet another connection to home. Outside I walked along the shore front where a couple of big cruise ships had arrived. At the entrance to the pier a woman and her extraordinarily powerful sound system was performing for the benefit of the cruise passengers. Unfortunately any talent she might possibly have had seemed to be distorted in the volume from the amps and she just reminded me of Marguarita Pracatan a la Clive James!!
On my last day I went out to the National Park. Its only km from town but it was a nice drive with the orange tinged trees at the foot of the hills a real contrast with the snow capped mountain tops. I got out at Ensenada Bay which was a lovely spot. It was sheltered, the water was calm, there was a small wooden jetty, the shelly beach, short springy grass, the trees were a mix of green and orangey-red, the sea was a clear dark green colour and even the rocks had a pale greeny hue to them. It reminded me of so many places in Scotland and was just beautiful. I went to the tiny shed on the pier that serves as the most southerly public post office then started out on what was a super day´s walking. The Costera Trail followed the shore of the Beagle channel sometimes right down at water´s edge sometimes back within the forrest that edged it. The little bays were wonderfully scenic and tranquil, the beaches deserted and scrunched nicely underfoot, the mountains towered above it all and the woods were fantastic. Although damp and squelchy underfoot in places the muddy track was mostly over the springy seashore grass or through the orange leaf litter within the trees. Aswell as the orange reds and russets there were still plenty of shades of green. Aswell as the leaves there were the mosses and lichen and the "old man´s beard" hung thick on many of the trees and branches and over the rocks. The path was so lovely and with it being so quiet and peaceful and through so many of the landscape features I love - woods, water, autumn colours - it suited me to a tee. A few rabbits bobbed about and although I heard a few birds I didn´t see many other than a few ducks. The exception was three little birds having a bath beside a little wooden fold. They splished and splashed and then perched on the wood to stare at me before finishing their preenings and flying off. They were really entertaining. I carried on too and after the path turned away from the shore it climbed uphill for a bit before continuing through the woods at the side of the ripio road. When the track finished I followed the road towards Lapataia Bay. Although it had started to drizzle I loved ot. The continuous landscape of little rolling hills, mountains, woods, springy grass, peaty ground, fine rain, milky green reflective water and tussocky bushes was incredible. It was akin to being in Glen affric or so many other coastal highland glens. When I reached Lapataia I had reached the end of Ruta 3 - the highway south from Buenos Aires - and the very Southern corner of Argentina. I felt I really had made it to the end of the earth. I strolled round the boardwalks trying to comprehend how far I´ve come as I waited for the bus back to town to arrive. When it did arrive we returned via the chairlift up to the Martial Glacier so I got a further look round parts of Ushuaia I hadn´t made it to yet and also some more fantastic views down over the city and sea and past some of the old traditionally styled wooden houses and modern grander hotels on the way, and as I was the last passenger on board I got dropped off right outside my hostel which was a bonus too.
I loved my time at the "Fin del Mundo" and could easily have stayed longer. Its the kind of place I think which draws you into its grasp and doesn´t let you go. Its not maybe the most aesthetically beautiful town in the world yet it is in a wonderful setting and has a nice vibe to it. However, I know there are many more places I also want to visit before I have to return to Scotland so I finally took the decision to go the only direction open to me at that point, and headed north.
