(Steve posting) Erin mentioned yesterday that we decided to rent a car to go for a drive today. Let me explain what really happened. We were at the tour company looking for information about boat trips on the Beagle Straight. The guy at the touring company suggested a tour on a catamaran similar to the one we took in El Calafate. The highlight would be a stop at a penguin reserve. We mentioned that we really enjoyed the penguin reserve at Punto Tombo, at which time he told us that in all honesty, having seen Punto Tombo we would be bored with the local penguinera which is home to much fewer birds and where one can only look from the boat. He then asked if we were interested in driving at which point, Erin's ears perked up. He showed us a map of the area and when we saw that one could actually drive further East and South to the very end of Argentina Rt. 1 (the Panamerican highway, Rt. 3, ends in Ushuaia) Erin decided that we needed to drive to the actual end of the road.
The travel guy suggested a local rental company and called to check on availability for us... no problem at all. He wouldn't accept any payment for his assistance even though he had spent nearly 30 minutes chatting with us about different options. He gave us directions to the rental place... maybe all of 12 blocks away. We decided to walk there to fill out the paperwork for the car before taking a taxi out to the Tren Del Fin Del Mundo (the train at the end of the world).
Leonardo at the rental place seemed genuinely excited about the roads in the area and told us about things to see along the way, including restaurants, a place that raises Siberian Huskies for sled dogs, and a town about 110 km North, Tolhuin, that doesn't offer much but does sit at the end of a large lake and features a well-reknowned 24 hour bakery. Rt. 1, the real end of the road, is reached after a 30 mile drive North on the Panamerican Highway. The Panamerican is actually a very nice paved road. Rt. 1 is all dirt and is used primarily to reach some outlying Estancias (sheep ranches), including Estancia Harborton, the first such settlement in Tierra Del Fuego started by some English missionaries and still owned by the sixth generation of the family. It features tours, a restaurant, and a museum.
So we filled out the paperwork with Leonardo and made arrangements to pick up the car that evening at 8, so we could get an early start in the morning.
We didn't get a particularly early start today as we decided that we all needed some rest. We did hit the road about 9. It rained last night but today we awoke to beautiful blue skies. It was colder and windier, but still nice at about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. We decided to take the drive on Rt. 1 first as the weather was nice but the forecast called for rain later in the day. Our timing was perfect. The road was actually a joy... smoother and better maintained than the gravel mess out to Punto Tombo. The scenery was just spectacular as we were high into the Andes then down into valleys and back out to the Beagle Straight. We got to the Estancia and were the only ones there save for a van full of tourists who were taking a boat out of the Estancia to see the penguin reserve (this is the closest point on land from which one can visit the reserve). We just decided to enjoy the scenery and take some photos. We wandered into a little tea room which is placed in the original house from the early 1800s. The women working in the cafe went nuts for Paco and gave him a free cookie and cold milk (a real treat as fresh milk has actually been difficult to find as Paco won't touch the UHT stuff) as Erin and I enjoyed some tea and delicious homemade cake.
Paco has discovered the joy of photography and has taken ownership of one of our older digital cameras that we brought with us. He was walking around taking pictures of everything in the place... flowers, cups, tablecloths, you name it.
From Estancia Harborton, you are on a small protected bay looking out onto the mouth of the Beagle Straights and out into open ocean. Behind you are towering snow-covered peaks of the South Eastern most end of the Andes. With the sun out, it was truly a mind-blowing sight.
After spending some time, we decided that Paco could use a nap in the car, where he sleeps like a log, so we hit the dirt back out to Rt. 3 and North to Tolhuin, our other goal for the day. After getting back to Rt. 3, the highway climbs up and over the Andes. There is a scenic overlook at the summit where we could see for hundreds of miles. Tolhuin was shockingly ugly and run down given it's location at the end of a beautiful alpine lake. The bakery seemed to share the role of town center and meeting place and appears to be somewhat famous as the walls were covered with photos of Argentine celebrities who have visited over the years. We found a little restaurant for lunch as well. I think Erin was nervous about eating there since it looked like the roof hadn't been patched since 1975 and the place looked as run down as the rest of the town, but the empanadas were decent.
Afterwards, we saw a small park with swings and some equipment a few blocks away and Paco really needed some time to run around. The park was dedicated to the veterans of the war over the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands) back in 1982. It looked like the last coat of paint on the playground equipemnt was put on shortly after the war, but Paco had fun and the place suddenly became overrun with kids from the local school which had just let out. It was starting to get colder and the rain was coming in, so we got back on the road toward Ushuaia with the goal of stopping to see the sled dog place on the way back. It rained the whole way back over the pass and was drizzling as we went to check out the dogs.
We went to the little gift shop to check it out and the owner insisted on giving Paco a free piece of candy... this seems to be the tradition for him, after the lady on the train yesterday, the girls at the Estacia earlier today, and other places, Argentinians just love to give little kids free treats!
As we got back to Ushuaia the clouds broke and it was sunny when we arrived at the hotel. This is really the only rain we've seen in 3 weeks in Argentina. We have a suitcase filled with clothes for cold weather and rain and we haven't needed it once.
So, there it is, We wanted to drive to the end of the world and we made it about as far as it's possible to go. And it was pretty easy. There were people out on Land Rovers and we made the drive in a rented VW Gol (a tiny little model not sold outside of Latin America, I think).
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
La Dueña Loca: 29 November 2007
We landed about 8:15 into Ushuaia, and oh my goodness, what a beautiful place. On the way, we flew over the Andes (Ushuaia is the only Argentine city on this side of the Andes) and the Straight of Magellan. The airport is about 10 years old, but has the feel of an Alpine lodge. The hotel had sent a remiss for us, and we piled into the car. So we arrived at 9PM last night to the Posada del Fin del Mundo. After 2 flights up we arrived at a nice sitting room, with evening snacks and tea. We were escorted in my Martina, a lovely assistant who was very elegant and professional. Then Ana, the owner, arrived, wearing clothing too tight for her age (she is about 60, I think) and showed us her son’s room, and there was no space for Paco (there was a loft bed, but not for a 3 year old). The son was in Brazil and still had a decent amount of stuff all over the place. In my head I was thinking, great, now I have to find a new place tomorrow. But then a nice Danish couple that was only there for one night before boarding a cruise to Antarctica (so jealous). So we moved into a triple on the ground floor, with a private bath and three separate beds. A bit sparse, but it would do. One of the hilarious things was that they said, “oh, well this room has a tv.” and then we found it had a So. American plug and all the outlets were European (it has happened before). So no TV without an adapter. We liked the sitting room and thought, ok, we will deal. Then we headed out to dinner, but Paco was so exhausted, it was a short one.
In the morning, I left at 8:30 to go to the tour office to book a boat tour. They were not open until 9:30, so I grabbed a cab to get up the hill back to the posada (Spanish for Inn). I saw Ana on the way into breakfast in her running tank and pants (don’t think she was actually going running). I joined Paco and Steve for breakfast and discovered we had to move into the son’s room after all. Now, the original deal I had made, was for a triple shared bathroom with the son, but not the son’s actual room. I was po’d. Steve did not even know what to say to her. He also was not convinced we would not have to move again. It normally takes us a while to pack, and even though they had offered to move our stuff, our stuff was now everywhere. And the son’s room was full of his crap everywhere. So Steve and I whispered to each other, “let’s find another place” I started to call places in the book, and the tourist center, but a lot was booked already. When I asked Steve for a budget he said, “The Llao Llao.” I laughed because the fancy place in town is more like $350 a night. I was fully ready to give up the WiFi they had in every room to get out of there. But in the end, I called a place called Macon do (http://www.macondohouse.com/), whom I had wanted to stay with before, but they were booked up. I spoke to the owner, she was so kind and said they had a cancellation and could put us in a double with a little bed for Paco. Ana, the owner of the Posada de Fin del Mundo had just hopped into a car with some handsome looking dude, so had her morning assistant call a cab and we piled all our crap in and drove the 15 blocks to the Macondo. For those of you who are not fans of Gabriel García Marquez, Macondo is the fictional town in his novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude. A book I absolutely love and it is my dream, some day, to read it in Spanish . We dropped our stuff off and went in search of the boats tours and lunch.. I felt like a load had been lifted. Steve, to his credit, just backed me up and we could have been sniping, but instead, just rallied. (For those of you wondering, yes we are having major snipe days, but only about 1 a week and usually food or fatigue related).
At the tour office, we made the decision that a boat tour was not really for us. And so we are renting a car tomorrow. The funny thing is that from everyone I have heard, “don’t drive in Argentina” but then I realized that advice came from Argentineans no longer living here!. The roads are substantially better the last few years. And the days we have most enjoyed were those in a car, away from the crowds. Tomorrow we will follow the Pan American Hwy in search of one of the first estancias in Tierra del Fuego.
In our search to find an early place for lunch, we found a Chinese food buffet. Paco wanted to eat there, and we figured it was his turn. It was awesome. Not cheap, but fresh vegetables and decent Chinese with housemade flan that was the best I have tasted next to Judy’s, of course. Paco, who has barely eaten the last few days, ate 3 plates full of food. The hispanic waitress was shocked when Paco and I wanted chopsticks. She said, "Like the Chinese ones use? They would not let us pay for Paco, despite our pleadings. From there, we made the mistake of not heading back to the hotel to get Paco a good nap and went to the Museo del Fin del Mundo. It was very interesting, talking about the settling of the land, but not for an overtired Paco. We did, however, get some rocking stamps in our passports from the Museum. From there we went to the rental office to fill out the paperwork for the car and Paco fell asleep. We wanted to catch the steam train at 3; So we took a cab to the National Park here in Ushuaia (Steve noted that there was a golf course). Side note: Argentineans are very proud of their parks and with good reason. The fees are about $10.00 per person, but free for locals, clean and just beautiful). Paco was still asleep but woke up with a grin the minute he heard the word “train.: The train is from early 19th century when the area was a penal colony and the train was used to cart the prisoners out to timber the forest. It was wonderful, but long and Paco was bored after the first hour. He did make friends with some nice older Argentine women who shared our car and gave him candy.
We went back to the hotel before looking in search of dinner. A task in Argentina at 7. Most places are closed until 8 PM. Steve joked, “soy Americano, yo quiero comer cuando quiero y en mi coche.” He even joked that we could take the rental car, and drive to Mendoza (about 48hrs away) where we saw a drive-thru McDonalds. We found a bar and ordered a hamburger for Paco, a Neapolitan pizzetta for me and then a blue cheese one for Steve. Of course the Neapoltian pizza came with ham and cheese. Paco’s hamburger tasted like sausage and he stole all the cheese from my pizza, leaving all the ham!
We went to rent the car and then to the grocery store to get supplies for our road trip tomorrow. Despite Judy’s comments, Ushuaia is far from godforsaken. It is incredible and a town of 70K, plus tourists. Leonardo, at the rental office told us of lots of restaurants on the road, including a 24 hr bakery! Not sure if we will make it there, but it is nice to know it is in the future. We bought a bunch of snacks and Paco proceeded to pull a Hoodi, and pick the miga (the inside) out of his crusty bread and eat it all while watching TV.
I like Ushuaia a lot, the winters are tough, of course. Steve does not even want to go back to BA (I think I could convince him to spend the week in Bariloche instead). I am kind of looking forward to BA and the diversity in food a bit more. The fish here is not as good as I had hoped. I actually think the best food we have had was been in Bariloche, followed by Mendoza. Paco is ready to go home, I think. But I suspect he will start enjoying himself Again in BA when we are close to the Zoo and cucumber in the stores! As much as he did not want to go the schools here, I think he misses being around kids more. Of course, little Pdub is asleep in his bed at the foot of ours. He was thrilled because his bed is kind of a rusty orange.
It finally started to rain and get cold tonight. All day we were roasting and I did not even take my jacket out this evening. Maybe tomorrow I get to finally pull out all that cold weather stuff I have been carting around. Steve and I were both sick of being hot, so I think the rain is a welcome change before heading to steamy BA on Saturday.
I apologize for any typos, I am beat. Off to bed, and early start in the AM. But at least I don’t have to deal with Ana. Love, Erin
PS, Shannon, your stroller has had it, we so have to buy you a new one!
In the morning, I left at 8:30 to go to the tour office to book a boat tour. They were not open until 9:30, so I grabbed a cab to get up the hill back to the posada (Spanish for Inn). I saw Ana on the way into breakfast in her running tank and pants (don’t think she was actually going running). I joined Paco and Steve for breakfast and discovered we had to move into the son’s room after all. Now, the original deal I had made, was for a triple shared bathroom with the son, but not the son’s actual room. I was po’d. Steve did not even know what to say to her. He also was not convinced we would not have to move again. It normally takes us a while to pack, and even though they had offered to move our stuff, our stuff was now everywhere. And the son’s room was full of his crap everywhere. So Steve and I whispered to each other, “let’s find another place” I started to call places in the book, and the tourist center, but a lot was booked already. When I asked Steve for a budget he said, “The Llao Llao.” I laughed because the fancy place in town is more like $350 a night. I was fully ready to give up the WiFi they had in every room to get out of there. But in the end, I called a place called Macon do (http://www.macondohouse.com/), whom I had wanted to stay with before, but they were booked up. I spoke to the owner, she was so kind and said they had a cancellation and could put us in a double with a little bed for Paco. Ana, the owner of the Posada de Fin del Mundo had just hopped into a car with some handsome looking dude, so had her morning assistant call a cab and we piled all our crap in and drove the 15 blocks to the Macondo. For those of you who are not fans of Gabriel García Marquez, Macondo is the fictional town in his novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude. A book I absolutely love and it is my dream, some day, to read it in Spanish . We dropped our stuff off and went in search of the boats tours and lunch.. I felt like a load had been lifted. Steve, to his credit, just backed me up and we could have been sniping, but instead, just rallied. (For those of you wondering, yes we are having major snipe days, but only about 1 a week and usually food or fatigue related).
At the tour office, we made the decision that a boat tour was not really for us. And so we are renting a car tomorrow. The funny thing is that from everyone I have heard, “don’t drive in Argentina” but then I realized that advice came from Argentineans no longer living here!. The roads are substantially better the last few years. And the days we have most enjoyed were those in a car, away from the crowds. Tomorrow we will follow the Pan American Hwy in search of one of the first estancias in Tierra del Fuego.
In our search to find an early place for lunch, we found a Chinese food buffet. Paco wanted to eat there, and we figured it was his turn. It was awesome. Not cheap, but fresh vegetables and decent Chinese with housemade flan that was the best I have tasted next to Judy’s, of course. Paco, who has barely eaten the last few days, ate 3 plates full of food. The hispanic waitress was shocked when Paco and I wanted chopsticks. She said, "Like the Chinese ones use? They would not let us pay for Paco, despite our pleadings. From there, we made the mistake of not heading back to the hotel to get Paco a good nap and went to the Museo del Fin del Mundo. It was very interesting, talking about the settling of the land, but not for an overtired Paco. We did, however, get some rocking stamps in our passports from the Museum. From there we went to the rental office to fill out the paperwork for the car and Paco fell asleep. We wanted to catch the steam train at 3; So we took a cab to the National Park here in Ushuaia (Steve noted that there was a golf course). Side note: Argentineans are very proud of their parks and with good reason. The fees are about $10.00 per person, but free for locals, clean and just beautiful). Paco was still asleep but woke up with a grin the minute he heard the word “train.: The train is from early 19th century when the area was a penal colony and the train was used to cart the prisoners out to timber the forest. It was wonderful, but long and Paco was bored after the first hour. He did make friends with some nice older Argentine women who shared our car and gave him candy.
We went back to the hotel before looking in search of dinner. A task in Argentina at 7. Most places are closed until 8 PM. Steve joked, “soy Americano, yo quiero comer cuando quiero y en mi coche.” He even joked that we could take the rental car, and drive to Mendoza (about 48hrs away) where we saw a drive-thru McDonalds. We found a bar and ordered a hamburger for Paco, a Neapolitan pizzetta for me and then a blue cheese one for Steve. Of course the Neapoltian pizza came with ham and cheese. Paco’s hamburger tasted like sausage and he stole all the cheese from my pizza, leaving all the ham!
We went to rent the car and then to the grocery store to get supplies for our road trip tomorrow. Despite Judy’s comments, Ushuaia is far from godforsaken. It is incredible and a town of 70K, plus tourists. Leonardo, at the rental office told us of lots of restaurants on the road, including a 24 hr bakery! Not sure if we will make it there, but it is nice to know it is in the future. We bought a bunch of snacks and Paco proceeded to pull a Hoodi, and pick the miga (the inside) out of his crusty bread and eat it all while watching TV.
I like Ushuaia a lot, the winters are tough, of course. Steve does not even want to go back to BA (I think I could convince him to spend the week in Bariloche instead). I am kind of looking forward to BA and the diversity in food a bit more. The fish here is not as good as I had hoped. I actually think the best food we have had was been in Bariloche, followed by Mendoza. Paco is ready to go home, I think. But I suspect he will start enjoying himself Again in BA when we are close to the Zoo and cucumber in the stores! As much as he did not want to go the schools here, I think he misses being around kids more. Of course, little Pdub is asleep in his bed at the foot of ours. He was thrilled because his bed is kind of a rusty orange.
It finally started to rain and get cold tonight. All day we were roasting and I did not even take my jacket out this evening. Maybe tomorrow I get to finally pull out all that cold weather stuff I have been carting around. Steve and I were both sick of being hot, so I think the rain is a welcome change before heading to steamy BA on Saturday.
I apologize for any typos, I am beat. Off to bed, and early start in the AM. But at least I don’t have to deal with Ana. Love, Erin
PS, Shannon, your stroller has had it, we so have to buy you a new one!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Más de Los Pengüinos
Erin writing (Steve did the last 2 postings)...I am sorry, I needed to find the ascii code for the U with the diereses (it is ALT 0252 for those of you looking). The penguin sanctuary was amazing. The road was hilarious. I was overjoyed when Fernando at the Hertz counter told me that the road was mostly paved now. But still it was about 30KM of gravel and the car showed it. Steve was worried, but I wasn't! The only thing is that I wished we had stopped for gas one last time. But that will have to come later.
So we are making our way (I was driving) down this hilarious road. I thought we were almost there several times, but then would look at the odometer and realize we had kilometers to go. At one point we passed through someone's estancia, with a grumpy looking rancher prepping for the day, and I saw the battered, red and white penguin sign of "Punto Tombo 15KM". Ugh another 15 km! Anyway, I was starting to think we were the first ones out there when pop! behind us, hauling up in dust was a Fiat! (We were in a very sad Chevy Corsa. So I sped up. No! I did not drag my poor child out of bed at 6:45 on vacation to have someone beat us to it! OK, not that dramatic, but I did feel a certain obligation to stay ahead.
When we arrived, a nice rancher waved me to the parking spot and as Steve said, we paid and headed on along the path. But both Steve and I were thinking we would suddenly arrive on a huge colony having a chat and singing their songs. In fact, I pretty much ditched the boys and walked at a decisive pace to find the almost 400,000 pengüinos before the Fiat people. Then, as we were walking along, poof, there was a penguin, then poof, there was another. Then we saw them sleeping in their little nests, lying in the sun in the middle of the path. All the signs say, give right of way to the penguin, so you are kind of standing there, waiting for them to cross the road.
As I was hauling, Steve and Paco were on Paco tiempo, and moving at a slower rate. We never found the penguin chorus, because this time of year, as Steve was the first to discover, the penguins are in their nests, hatching their eggs. And, if we were quiet, we could hear the “pio, pio, pio” and find the furry gray ball underneath its Mama or Dada, (we were never sure).
We hung out on the rock that Steve mentioned for about 20 minutes, and I think could have stayed there all day, hanging out in the sun with the penguins. But then, the first of the tour buses came in, and suddenly the park had about 50 people in it. It was still plenty of space (the Fiat people left quickly, but were, in the end, nice and Argentine) but the silence was broken And also, Paco started to whine about being hungry, so we needed to make our way back to the small café and then hit the road.
We had a snack and a chat with the folks running the tiny snack place at Punto Tombo. And then we decided to leave before the tour buses did. We timed it relatively well, as the parking lot had about 7 tour buses (Some only hold 9 people) and several private cars in the lot. Steve drove on the return and Paco quickly passed out. The road seems shorter on the return. We saw a sign for Camarones, a town about 150 miles to the south, and I was sad we could not just take off and head down there for the night.
We had seen one gas station on the way out of Trelew and had not stopped in order to beat the tour buses. But by the time I woke up from my nap, a panicked Steve was pulling into the same gas station, as we were completely on fumes. Paco woke up at that point and we decided to head to Gaiman, the settled Welsh town.
Gamain is supposed to have a British sense to it, and to some extent, it did. But really we were both disappointed and thought it would have more of a lush green feel to the town. We did stop in for a Welsh tea, after which Steve was sure he would be in diabetic shock from all the sweets! After that we went to a park where Paco ran about and we spoke to the mother of a girl Paco’s age, who was impressed that Paco spoke Spanish, her daughter is learning Welsh!
We headed back into the depressing world of Trelew, and aimed to find an early dinner and early to bed for all. None of the places we had heard of were open at 7:30 for dinner, so we returned to Mi Ciudad, My City and recommended to a British couple with a girl Paco’s age, that they do the same. Mi Ciudad was packed full of all the people who want a drink and snack before dinner time. We ordered and sure enough, who should arrive but our British friends (whose names, of course I never got). Steve and I at this point are officially tired of ham and cheese. Paco seemed to still enjoy his ham and cheese omelet, but it seems that all sandwiches, all pizzas and all eggs some with ham and cheese.
After dinner Paco and Robin, the English 3-year old had become fast friends and we went to the park to let them run off steam. After about an hour, the kids were exhausted. So we returned to the hotel for our last night in Trelew. I had planned to stay up after Paco went to sleep, charge the camera, the phones, the iPods and write about the day, but in snuggling Paco at about 10PM, I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up about 3 AM, still fully dressed.
This morning, Steve took Paco out for a ham and cheese media luna and I packed up. Then we threw everything in the car and drove to Puerto Madryn, which is supposed to be nicer and more touristy than Trelew. (not harder to be nicer or more tourist-centered than Trelew!) Puerto Madryn was a bit nicer, but really, compared to Mendoza or Bariloche there is no comparison. There are whale and sea lion excursions, but mostly Paco was interested in the huge play structure (there is not one in Trelew that we found and he wanted us to drive back to Gaiman to day to go back to the park). We ate and a restaurant on the main beach street that was awful. Everything tasted bad. Steve’s hamburger, (ham and cheese) Paco’s omelet (ham and cheese) and the orange soda. My fish, a merluza, was the best of the 3, but even that had a fishy taste when it really should have been caught that day or the day before. However, my fish was less than $6.00 USD, so how can I complain!
We walked a bit and tried the Havanna, which was not up to usual Havanna standards. At that point Steve announced, “I am done with the province of Chubut”. I had to agree. We let Paco play at the park for another 30 minutes and then left to get to the airport early. Paco passed out in the car. And we were both surprised when he transferred easily to the stroller at the airport.
Early for us, is way too early for the Argentine, and the airport was practically empty. We were able to check or luggage and pay the airport tax. But a lightening storm had begun while we were on the road and we both thinking we would be stuck in Trelew. The Hertz desk had no one there and German, the tax guy said they would not be there for another hour. Paco slept and the tax guy gave us his WiFi key. I snuck in some ice cream, so we were happy enough. Paco then woke up, pointed at me and snuggled back to sleepiness. However, it was clear he needed to use the bathroom, so I carried him to the bathroom, he did his business, half asleep, then fell asleep again on me and I was able to transfer him back into the stroller. Crazy.
Finally, my Hertz buddy, Fernando, came and we returned the car while Steve loaded the penguin photos. They called our gate and we were headed to security with the dread of pulling a still sleeping Paco out of his stroller. You gotta love Argentina, they pushed Paco around the security gate without waking him up! I guess they no better than to mess with a sleeping toddler.
Paco finally woke up just as we were boarding and I carried him onto the plane where he snacked a bit (ham and cheese sandwich), cried a bit and watched a bit of iPod. But all in all he had slept 3 hrs in the car, in the stroller and on the toilet. Poor kid, we have been wearing him out.
We are so excited to leave Trelew. I am glad we stayed there, it was an education. But truly there is something so sad about it. It is still the closest place to stay for the penguins, so for the extra hour it buys you, it is worth it.
Both Steve and I are very excited for Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego. We are on the plane now and I am so relieved that the weather cleared so we could take off! We land at 8 PM. I am not sure we will have a chance to book the boat tours when we get there. But I don’t care; we are still going to Tierra del Fuego. I doubt we will make it to the Chilean southern most town (Ushuaia is considered the southern most city, but Puerto Williams is further south but supposedly is very tiny). The rumor ahs it the passage from the Argentine side is $300.00 USD to get there from Ushuaia. It is about an hour boat ride!
There is also mini-trekking for the glacier, so I may ask if Steve can go. But if not, we are still on a pretty amazing adventure.
Love, Erin
PS: Shan, will try to get the chick photos uploaded. They kind of just look like fuzzy gray blobs, so you will have to use your imagination.
So we are making our way (I was driving) down this hilarious road. I thought we were almost there several times, but then would look at the odometer and realize we had kilometers to go. At one point we passed through someone's estancia, with a grumpy looking rancher prepping for the day, and I saw the battered, red and white penguin sign of "Punto Tombo 15KM". Ugh another 15 km! Anyway, I was starting to think we were the first ones out there when pop! behind us, hauling up in dust was a Fiat! (We were in a very sad Chevy Corsa. So I sped up. No! I did not drag my poor child out of bed at 6:45 on vacation to have someone beat us to it! OK, not that dramatic, but I did feel a certain obligation to stay ahead.
When we arrived, a nice rancher waved me to the parking spot and as Steve said, we paid and headed on along the path. But both Steve and I were thinking we would suddenly arrive on a huge colony having a chat and singing their songs. In fact, I pretty much ditched the boys and walked at a decisive pace to find the almost 400,000 pengüinos before the Fiat people. Then, as we were walking along, poof, there was a penguin, then poof, there was another. Then we saw them sleeping in their little nests, lying in the sun in the middle of the path. All the signs say, give right of way to the penguin, so you are kind of standing there, waiting for them to cross the road.
As I was hauling, Steve and Paco were on Paco tiempo, and moving at a slower rate. We never found the penguin chorus, because this time of year, as Steve was the first to discover, the penguins are in their nests, hatching their eggs. And, if we were quiet, we could hear the “pio, pio, pio” and find the furry gray ball underneath its Mama or Dada, (we were never sure).
We hung out on the rock that Steve mentioned for about 20 minutes, and I think could have stayed there all day, hanging out in the sun with the penguins. But then, the first of the tour buses came in, and suddenly the park had about 50 people in it. It was still plenty of space (the Fiat people left quickly, but were, in the end, nice and Argentine) but the silence was broken And also, Paco started to whine about being hungry, so we needed to make our way back to the small café and then hit the road.
We had a snack and a chat with the folks running the tiny snack place at Punto Tombo. And then we decided to leave before the tour buses did. We timed it relatively well, as the parking lot had about 7 tour buses (Some only hold 9 people) and several private cars in the lot. Steve drove on the return and Paco quickly passed out. The road seems shorter on the return. We saw a sign for Camarones, a town about 150 miles to the south, and I was sad we could not just take off and head down there for the night.
We had seen one gas station on the way out of Trelew and had not stopped in order to beat the tour buses. But by the time I woke up from my nap, a panicked Steve was pulling into the same gas station, as we were completely on fumes. Paco woke up at that point and we decided to head to Gaiman, the settled Welsh town.
Gamain is supposed to have a British sense to it, and to some extent, it did. But really we were both disappointed and thought it would have more of a lush green feel to the town. We did stop in for a Welsh tea, after which Steve was sure he would be in diabetic shock from all the sweets! After that we went to a park where Paco ran about and we spoke to the mother of a girl Paco’s age, who was impressed that Paco spoke Spanish, her daughter is learning Welsh!
We headed back into the depressing world of Trelew, and aimed to find an early dinner and early to bed for all. None of the places we had heard of were open at 7:30 for dinner, so we returned to Mi Ciudad, My City and recommended to a British couple with a girl Paco’s age, that they do the same. Mi Ciudad was packed full of all the people who want a drink and snack before dinner time. We ordered and sure enough, who should arrive but our British friends (whose names, of course I never got). Steve and I at this point are officially tired of ham and cheese. Paco seemed to still enjoy his ham and cheese omelet, but it seems that all sandwiches, all pizzas and all eggs some with ham and cheese.
After dinner Paco and Robin, the English 3-year old had become fast friends and we went to the park to let them run off steam. After about an hour, the kids were exhausted. So we returned to the hotel for our last night in Trelew. I had planned to stay up after Paco went to sleep, charge the camera, the phones, the iPods and write about the day, but in snuggling Paco at about 10PM, I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up about 3 AM, still fully dressed.
This morning, Steve took Paco out for a ham and cheese media luna and I packed up. Then we threw everything in the car and drove to Puerto Madryn, which is supposed to be nicer and more touristy than Trelew. (not harder to be nicer or more tourist-centered than Trelew!) Puerto Madryn was a bit nicer, but really, compared to Mendoza or Bariloche there is no comparison. There are whale and sea lion excursions, but mostly Paco was interested in the huge play structure (there is not one in Trelew that we found and he wanted us to drive back to Gaiman to day to go back to the park). We ate and a restaurant on the main beach street that was awful. Everything tasted bad. Steve’s hamburger, (ham and cheese) Paco’s omelet (ham and cheese) and the orange soda. My fish, a merluza, was the best of the 3, but even that had a fishy taste when it really should have been caught that day or the day before. However, my fish was less than $6.00 USD, so how can I complain!
We walked a bit and tried the Havanna, which was not up to usual Havanna standards. At that point Steve announced, “I am done with the province of Chubut”. I had to agree. We let Paco play at the park for another 30 minutes and then left to get to the airport early. Paco passed out in the car. And we were both surprised when he transferred easily to the stroller at the airport.
Early for us, is way too early for the Argentine, and the airport was practically empty. We were able to check or luggage and pay the airport tax. But a lightening storm had begun while we were on the road and we both thinking we would be stuck in Trelew. The Hertz desk had no one there and German, the tax guy said they would not be there for another hour. Paco slept and the tax guy gave us his WiFi key. I snuck in some ice cream, so we were happy enough. Paco then woke up, pointed at me and snuggled back to sleepiness. However, it was clear he needed to use the bathroom, so I carried him to the bathroom, he did his business, half asleep, then fell asleep again on me and I was able to transfer him back into the stroller. Crazy.
Finally, my Hertz buddy, Fernando, came and we returned the car while Steve loaded the penguin photos. They called our gate and we were headed to security with the dread of pulling a still sleeping Paco out of his stroller. You gotta love Argentina, they pushed Paco around the security gate without waking him up! I guess they no better than to mess with a sleeping toddler.
Paco finally woke up just as we were boarding and I carried him onto the plane where he snacked a bit (ham and cheese sandwich), cried a bit and watched a bit of iPod. But all in all he had slept 3 hrs in the car, in the stroller and on the toilet. Poor kid, we have been wearing him out.
We are so excited to leave Trelew. I am glad we stayed there, it was an education. But truly there is something so sad about it. It is still the closest place to stay for the penguins, so for the extra hour it buys you, it is worth it.
Both Steve and I are very excited for Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego. We are on the plane now and I am so relieved that the weather cleared so we could take off! We land at 8 PM. I am not sure we will have a chance to book the boat tours when we get there. But I don’t care; we are still going to Tierra del Fuego. I doubt we will make it to the Chilean southern most town (Ushuaia is considered the southern most city, but Puerto Williams is further south but supposedly is very tiny). The rumor ahs it the passage from the Argentine side is $300.00 USD to get there from Ushuaia. It is about an hour boat ride!
There is also mini-trekking for the glacier, so I may ask if Steve can go. But if not, we are still on a pretty amazing adventure.
Love, Erin
PS: Shan, will try to get the chick photos uploaded. They kind of just look like fuzzy gray blobs, so you will have to use your imagination.
"Hola Pinguino"
(Steve posting) As mentioned earlier, we got to Punta Tombo before anyone else and had the place to ourselves. The drive out to the park was so desolate and so poorly marked that I was really wondering if we were going the right way. There was nothing marked for 40 km on a dirt road until we came across a sign about the size of a piece of paper that had a picture of a penguin and "7 Km" on it.
The park rangers were very friendly and we paid our entrance fee... the seemingly standard $30 (Argentine Pesos) per adult and free for Paco for all parks. We walked about 300 yards down and up a gravel path and didn't really see anything... just low Patagonian brush as far as one could see with the Atlantic Ocean about 200 yards away. Suddenly, there's a penguin walking next to the path... just a foot or two away. The penguins appear to nest in burrows underneath the bushes, so at first they are hard to see.
As we continued to walk down the path into the park the birds became more and more concentrated until there were groups of 10-20 at a time. As we got further on, I noticed some high-pitched chirping sounds from under some of the bushes... to our delight, many of the baby penguins had begun to hatch within the past week or so, and in some cases, the chicks were visible right next to the shells of their eggs... just tiny little grey balls of fuzz with beaks.
During this time, Paco was on my shoulders and he would scream every time we saw a penguin "Hola Pinguino!"
When we got to the end of the trail, we were on a rock outcropping overlooking the beach where visitors were forbidden from going. Nevertheless, we were only about 50 feet away from hundreds of penguins and could watch them waddling down the rocky paths to the water front. There was a large sea lion about 100 feet off shore swimming around and we would see the penguins swimming at full speed back to shore every time he got near.
It was quiet, and peaceful and the penguins appeared comfortable (or at least completely tolerant) of their human visitors. We didn't leave the marked trail as instructed, but the birds were perfectly comfortable walking onto the trail and within inches of us. I'll try to load some photos to see if we can do this experience justice.
It was truly an amazing place and we wish we could have stayed even longer.
The park rangers were very friendly and we paid our entrance fee... the seemingly standard $30 (Argentine Pesos) per adult and free for Paco for all parks. We walked about 300 yards down and up a gravel path and didn't really see anything... just low Patagonian brush as far as one could see with the Atlantic Ocean about 200 yards away. Suddenly, there's a penguin walking next to the path... just a foot or two away. The penguins appear to nest in burrows underneath the bushes, so at first they are hard to see.
As we continued to walk down the path into the park the birds became more and more concentrated until there were groups of 10-20 at a time. As we got further on, I noticed some high-pitched chirping sounds from under some of the bushes... to our delight, many of the baby penguins had begun to hatch within the past week or so, and in some cases, the chicks were visible right next to the shells of their eggs... just tiny little grey balls of fuzz with beaks.
During this time, Paco was on my shoulders and he would scream every time we saw a penguin "Hola Pinguino!"
When we got to the end of the trail, we were on a rock outcropping overlooking the beach where visitors were forbidden from going. Nevertheless, we were only about 50 feet away from hundreds of penguins and could watch them waddling down the rocky paths to the water front. There was a large sea lion about 100 feet off shore swimming around and we would see the penguins swimming at full speed back to shore every time he got near.
It was quiet, and peaceful and the penguins appeared comfortable (or at least completely tolerant) of their human visitors. We didn't leave the marked trail as instructed, but the birds were perfectly comfortable walking onto the trail and within inches of us. I'll try to load some photos to see if we can do this experience justice.
It was truly an amazing place and we wish we could have stayed even longer.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Penguinos!!
Penguins awesome! The road was a great adventure. The guide books had
said that the road was 75 km of unpaved gravel but the Argentine
government has seen fit to build a new paved highway South from
Trelew. The road is not yet completed so there are about 30 km of
gravel left and I imagine that some of the road to the park will be
left unpaved... It certainly adds to the charm of this desolate and
isolated piece of coastline?
said that the road was 75 km of unpaved gravel but the Argentine
government has seen fit to build a new paved highway South from
Trelew. The road is not yet completed so there are about 30 km of
gravel left and I imagine that some of the road to the park will be
left unpaved... It certainly adds to the charm of this desolate and
isolated piece of coastline?
In typical Erin fashion, we hit the road early to beat the tour buses.
We were the first car in the lot and nearly had the place to
ourselves for the first hour. What a treat. Our timing was also
perfect as the penguine chicks appear to have begun hatching in the
past week or so. More to come later!
--
Erin Wheeler
Monday, November 26, 2007
Trelew and the Dinosaurs
Trelew is an industrial town. Puerto Madryn is the town for tourists, with its whale-watching ships and sea lions ashore. We may make it there, but Trelew is closer to the penguin colony at Punta Tumbo and the Welsh village of Gaiman, which we hope to see tomorrow. Yes, Welsh. I guess a bunch of Welsh moved here with an agreement with the Argentine government that they could preserve their language and culture because they were tired of the English trying to change it all.
Paco and I slept until about 9AM after going to bed closer to 12:30. Steve woke up preoccupied about parking the car and was up from about 7, organizing things and figuring out where stuff was. After a decent snack in the breakfast are downstairs, (where, I was so flattered, some Argentine woman thought I was Spanish, HA! She must not have heard me say much) we headed out to drop off the laundry and head to the paleontology museum. Steve and I were dying in the heat. Pushing the stroller 6 blocks killed me! It is not even that hot, but it seems like one of those repressive summer days in Sacramento where it is over 80 degrees in the mornings. We headed over to the paleontology museum. Small, but wonderful, Paco walked through it 3 times in total. Steve and I took turns enjoying coffee in the café. Once again I was flattered because the dude at the café thought I was Portugese (not Spanish, but still better than gringa). Steve can add more on this later, but it was pretty amazing, and is considered the best science museum in South America. The lab where they clean the fossils has huge windows and you can watch the technicians work on the bones. Pretty cool. Paco just announced to me that it was the biggest dinosaur he ever saw in his whole life! However, it was clear that we are all sick and Paco especially had developed a fever again last night. So we headed back and the boys have been sleeping since for 3 hours. I had 2 coffees so I am kind of out of luck, I think. We needed this flop day! The WiFi at the hotel is spotty at best, so I am writing in Word to paste in later. I am sick, but I do love Argentina. The penguins, however, can wait until tomorrow.
Must go, Paco woke up and is singing in bed. That is a good sign.
So the boys woke up and we were all starving. So we walked around a bit, but Paco was a mess (snotty, grumpy, tired) so we ended up at a café called Mi Ciudad, my city. I had asked at the front desk (not the friendliest place, for sure) if there was a McDonalds in town (it is a city of about 100,000) but the guy there and the nice guy at My City had no idea what I was talking about.. Still the café was nice and Paco ate an omlette with ham and cheese and his personality changed. Steve and I shared the gnocchi with Bolognese sauce. I had ordered the house salad, which when it came I immediately handed over to Steve. It was shredded carrots, eggs, and a ton of beets. I mean a ton of beets. Yuck.
We headed to the park and the pharmacy (we needed lip balm). The park, alas, had no play structure and Paco not much energy. So we opted for ice cream instead. In typical Argentine fashion, the man behind the counter gave Paco a huuuge amount of vanilla and in Paco fashion he ate it all. Then we popped into a camera store because our camera weirdly broke yesterday. It is just the lens cover, but still. The man told me that he knew of no one who could fix a digital camera in Trelew. He also had no digital cameras for sale. Then Paco and I came back into the hotel to rest and watch TV while Steve went to retrieve the laundry and head to the market for more apples and water.
Steve commented that Trelew seemed very poor, and that it was trapped in a world about a decade older. In fact, when I read about Trelew in Wikipedia, I found the phrase "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villa_miseria" to refer to a sort of shanty town that exists on the ourskirts. I saw the same in Mendoza and the polarity of the very rich with the very poor is definitely something to note. I know Buenos Aires too, has major areas of these shanty towns.
Paco seems to be burning up again, but we are going to let the fever do its job since Paco is not acting listless, just tired.
I just got back from the store where again, there are no coins. All over Mendoza there were signs that said they would round up or round down to the nearest bill. And here, it seems like no one has coins either. I wonder what is behind it? Is it a lack of distribution because this is not a tourist center? The problem did not exist in El Calafate and Bariloche? Is it a sign of an economic crash? I don't know, I just find it unsettling.
Note about jeans: I was pleased today to see a store called "La Vaqueria". Where one goes to buy their jeans or rather their pantalones vaqueros!
Hopeufully, the penguin excursion will go well tomorrow! Love, Erin
Paco and I slept until about 9AM after going to bed closer to 12:30. Steve woke up preoccupied about parking the car and was up from about 7, organizing things and figuring out where stuff was. After a decent snack in the breakfast are downstairs, (where, I was so flattered, some Argentine woman thought I was Spanish, HA! She must not have heard me say much) we headed out to drop off the laundry and head to the paleontology museum. Steve and I were dying in the heat. Pushing the stroller 6 blocks killed me! It is not even that hot, but it seems like one of those repressive summer days in Sacramento where it is over 80 degrees in the mornings. We headed over to the paleontology museum. Small, but wonderful, Paco walked through it 3 times in total. Steve and I took turns enjoying coffee in the café. Once again I was flattered because the dude at the café thought I was Portugese (not Spanish, but still better than gringa). Steve can add more on this later, but it was pretty amazing, and is considered the best science museum in South America. The lab where they clean the fossils has huge windows and you can watch the technicians work on the bones. Pretty cool. Paco just announced to me that it was the biggest dinosaur he ever saw in his whole life! However, it was clear that we are all sick and Paco especially had developed a fever again last night. So we headed back and the boys have been sleeping since for 3 hours. I had 2 coffees so I am kind of out of luck, I think. We needed this flop day! The WiFi at the hotel is spotty at best, so I am writing in Word to paste in later. I am sick, but I do love Argentina. The penguins, however, can wait until tomorrow.
Must go, Paco woke up and is singing in bed. That is a good sign.
So the boys woke up and we were all starving. So we walked around a bit, but Paco was a mess (snotty, grumpy, tired) so we ended up at a café called Mi Ciudad, my city. I had asked at the front desk (not the friendliest place, for sure) if there was a McDonalds in town (it is a city of about 100,000) but the guy there and the nice guy at My City had no idea what I was talking about.. Still the café was nice and Paco ate an omlette with ham and cheese and his personality changed. Steve and I shared the gnocchi with Bolognese sauce. I had ordered the house salad, which when it came I immediately handed over to Steve. It was shredded carrots, eggs, and a ton of beets. I mean a ton of beets. Yuck.
We headed to the park and the pharmacy (we needed lip balm). The park, alas, had no play structure and Paco not much energy. So we opted for ice cream instead. In typical Argentine fashion, the man behind the counter gave Paco a huuuge amount of vanilla and in Paco fashion he ate it all. Then we popped into a camera store because our camera weirdly broke yesterday. It is just the lens cover, but still. The man told me that he knew of no one who could fix a digital camera in Trelew. He also had no digital cameras for sale. Then Paco and I came back into the hotel to rest and watch TV while Steve went to retrieve the laundry and head to the market for more apples and water.
Steve commented that Trelew seemed very poor, and that it was trapped in a world about a decade older. In fact, when I read about Trelew in Wikipedia, I found the phrase "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villa_miseria" to refer to a sort of shanty town that exists on the ourskirts. I saw the same in Mendoza and the polarity of the very rich with the very poor is definitely something to note. I know Buenos Aires too, has major areas of these shanty towns.
Paco seems to be burning up again, but we are going to let the fever do its job since Paco is not acting listless, just tired.
I just got back from the store where again, there are no coins. All over Mendoza there were signs that said they would round up or round down to the nearest bill. And here, it seems like no one has coins either. I wonder what is behind it? Is it a lack of distribution because this is not a tourist center? The problem did not exist in El Calafate and Bariloche? Is it a sign of an economic crash? I don't know, I just find it unsettling.
Note about jeans: I was pleased today to see a store called "La Vaqueria". Where one goes to buy their jeans or rather their pantalones vaqueros!
Hopeufully, the penguin excursion will go well tomorrow! Love, Erin
Un Día con Los Jorges
We spent most of the night last night worried about Paco, who clearly had a fever throughout the night. It was easily controlled by Tylenol and we gave him the option to stay in the hotel. Both of us a honestly thought the glacier would not wait for good health. And well, we made the poor child suck it up.
Once again, Raúl was there for breakfast and we enjoyed the morning chat and sweets. Paco loved the ham and ate a ton. There had been a miscommunication between Pablo and Ana and me and Raúl had not known that we needed lunch for the day. I had some of the day be fore's still in the fridge and Raúl gave us a ton of apples. So we were fine.
Since late last night Steve discovered he would not be able to do the mini-trek, (in the end out of principle, I think). He joined us for our early remiss taxi to the Perito Moreno Glacer. We were expecting our buddy Jorge, whom we had met Friday night, with his new Chevy wagon. We knew his car had working seatbelts, which is not to be taken for granted. Jorge is my age, and full of the Argentine gift for the gab. So we were a bit surprised when he sent another Jorge, this one older and in a mid-90s Ford Escort. Still a Jorge is a Jorge and this Jorge seemed perfectly nice and the seatbelts worked. We asked him if he spoke English and when he said "no", we cheered!
We headed out to the Perito Moreno Glacier. Jorge the 1st had tried to get me to leave later, so he could take someone to the airport before us, but I had wanted to beat the crowd. The Perito Moreno Glacier is just massive. (Include link here). From El Calafate, it is about an hour to the park entrance, where you pay 10$ US per visiting adult, but Jorge, because he is a local, was free. In addition, they are very big on "pack in in, pack it out", and we were handed a trash bag to take back to El Calafate. Then another 30 minutes later, we pulled over to see the glacier. Yesterday we had seen the tallest and largest, but oh, my goodness, this is just huge. (Steve, enter photos here). Steve just pointed out that its significance is that it is actually advancing, (Steve adds) apparently, the last such glacier in the world to be doing so (wikepedia here). Jorge happily obliged us by taking photos of us together. All 4 of us were freezing and I was wishing I had brought my other jacket.
A few minutes later we arrived at the outlook, and after using the facilities, begun the many steps down to the glacier outlook. We rook the old wooden steps so we did not hold up the tour of early risers that had arrived when we did. Panchito got tired pretty quickly and spent most of it on my shoulders. We spent ages down there. There are 3 or 4 different outlooks, which is nice, because you kind of get your own special moment to just stare. Pancho was fascinated by the falling pieces and there was one particularly huge one. (Photo here). Jorge, had wisely opted to stay up high where it was warm and there was coffee. So we traded photo-taking with the people who seemed nice. Pancho did not want to leave but it was quite cold by the glacier and I was getting a bit concerned. With the promise of chocolate caliente, Pancho re-mounted my shoulders. I left Steve on the intermediate balcony with two Australians and an Oregonian thinking it would take me forever to reach the top. The Barilochean training must have served me well, because I was not dying, despite the 35 pounds of love on my shoulders. Paco and I went into the cafeteria and chose all sorts of things to snack on, chips, sandwich, hot chocolate and café cortado. $30 US later, Steve joined us and we warmed up at the top. Jorge had gone back to the car…after our long break in the cafeteria, we found him drinking mate with a buddy in the parking lot. Note on mate: if you don't know what it is, let me know, but it is very Argentine. They drink it much more here than in BA. It is hilarious. I BA if you see a person with a thermos and mate walking along the street, they are usually Uruguayan, but in the south, it is the practice!
Side note about Paco: He hit homesickness at this point and announced he was saving his sandwich for when we get back to California.
It was already 11:30 and we were aiming to be back at the hotel by 3PM. Our choices were to take the Barcquito (the little boat) into the channel in front of the glacier, or to head out to Lago Roca, where it is supposed to me a magnificent vista. Paco opted for the vista, as did I, and Jorge seemed surprised. But, he was up for it. The road to the Lago Roca is mostly gravel and it was a long drive for Jorge. Paco and I passed out. Steve was fascinated by the wildlife. When we arrived 90 minutes later at the campground, it seemed worth it. We took our picnic and walked through the campground to the lake. I stayed back and Steve and Paco spent some time adventuring. Paco looked at the condors flying above and commented that they did not seem as big as those on Go, Diego, Go since Diego was riding on those in the air. Side note: the cold from the glacier seemed to break Paco's fever, because it did not come back all day.
We had our small picnic before heading back to Jorge. It was a long drive to the Lago, but it seemed worth it. I think Steve really enjoyed the wildlife and I enjoyed being away from the crowds. Paco was frustrated that there was a pool table in the campground center and we did not want to take the time to play. Ah, perhaps next time. On the way back we saw 12 huge condors flying above the road. It was absolutely incredible. There was one particularly huge one. Paco announced that was the daddy condor and that it could, indeed, handle Diego.
The road back to El Calafate went faster and Steve slept in the back of the car. When we arrived back at the hotel, I over tipped Jorge as I think he undercharged us for the Lago Roca portion (man, it is hard on the suspension) and he drove with such care that I never felt unsafe. That is a big statement when you drive with the Argentines (Especially since Jorge is from BA). Though El Calafate has a slower pace that infects everyone. Including us!
We were walking back into the town to grab a few souvenirs when who should pull over next to us, but Jorge the 1st. He was full of apologies and asked how it all went. He explained that is was a full work day, thank god, and he knew he had left us in good hands. He then offered us a ride into town, for which he refused, I mean refused, to take money. We got out of the car and Steve commented once again on the friendliness and genuineness of the town. We rushed through the town to meet and have a fast snack at La Cocina again. Well, of course, fast does not exist in Argentina when it comes to food. So 35 minutes later, our food just arrived when Raúl showed up at the appointed time to take us back to the hotel and then on to the airport. It was all fine, but a bit hurried. I have to love Argentine air travel, though. The flight is delayed and as a practice you are not allowed through until 1 hr before the takeoff time. We have become used to this (with some effort) and were hanging out in the café when the security opened up and all the Europeans rushed to the security. The flight was delayed and we still had an hour. So we enjoyed our coffee and Paco his juice until the line went down and we moseyed over to security. Upon inspection the officer noticed our tax documentation was off and asked us to wait. He went over to the tax desk and retrieved a missing tax stamp we had needed to Paco's ticket. In my mind, had we not had Paco, he would have sent us over and told us to get back at the end of the line. Who knows, but it just seems like traveling with a child in Argentina is easier than any place else we have gone. We got to the gate and after some chatting with some very nice Italians we were once again waved through first to board. Poor Paco was absolutely exhausted at this point and we again got looks from the Argentines about the time outs! Eventually, by us pretending to sleep, he slept himself and we had to wake him up when we landed in Trelew. There was a kind, Brasilian woman behind him who wanted to play with him. I had to mouth the words "no no!" So he would sleep instead.
Side note about Trelew: We cannot pronounce it. Every time we do: (kind of like TraaLeu) an Argentine corrects us and we cannot get it right. Steve and I joked last night it was like that SNL sketch with Nuni and Nooni: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Schoeners. Trelew is not the tourist center for the area, that is Puerto Madryn, but we wanted to be closer to the penguins and there is a dinosaur museum here.
We landed just fine, but sick and tired Paco wanted to be held. So while Steve waited for the luggage we went in search of the car. Steve was having fears of the hour that we had in Mendoza waiting at the Hertz Desk. But not the case. There was a good 10 minutes of a German struggling to communicate with the Argentine agent, but the lot porter spoke English and there was eventually a manner of communication. When it was my turn, Fernando, the agent was full of apologies, had the paperwork completed, explained that the road that was gravel was not paved and the car was brought to us. Fernando then told me to make sure Paco wore his jacket, as it was cold and waited outside with us until everything was sorted in the car before entering back inside. Not, however, before giving us his cell phone number.
We made our way into Trelew and found our hotel. But the grumpy night-time clerk was less than helpful and Paco was starving. Steve, superdad, went around the corner to a restaurant, ordered us dinner, then brought the bags up, then went and got dinner. Shannon and Cindy, this place reminded me at fist of the place in Genoa, perfectly fine, but a scary element none the less. I was almost in tears because I thought the windows on the room were boarded shut due to crime, when he walked over and opened the heavy wooden shutters that were closed due to the summer heat. He also snuck in ice cream for me, including our new favorite, dulce de leche with chocolate chips and a delicious banana (I am not a fan of banana flavored anything, ever since I was 6 and had to sit through The Jungle Book movie next to Colleen eating a package of banana flavored Now and Laters. Yuck, she denies it was her, but it was) for Paco. The banana was the hit, but Paco stuck to Vanilla and Steve and I ate it all.
We decided to sleep in tomorrow and do the penguins Tuesday. We are all just too worn out and too sick, I think. Both Steve and I really enjoyed the long day. I am not usually one for tourist cities, but El Calafate is something spectacular. The townspeople are from all over Argentina, people who seem to be looking for a quieter and easier life. Usually I am a California snob about landscapes, but the enormity and spectrum of colors humbled my arrogance. It is the glaciers yes, with their blues and white and black streaks, but too the huge rocks left by glaciers years ago, the massive valley walls with colors of brown that could not have words and the sheer quietness of it all. Neither Steve nor I wanted to leave. I was fine if we missed our flight. It was just so relaxing, and yet we did so much. There is so much more I want to do. We told Paco, we would come back when he is 10 and we can all walk on the ice together. Steve and I both were half-joking, half-dreaming about selling our house in San José and moving to Bariloche or El Calafate. But Paco would have none of it. He told us he liked his school and his friends in California. He talks of his two friends Natalia and Dominic often, more since we have left Bariloche. Ah, he likes Argentina, but he is still our California boy!
More from Trelew, Treleu or Trelau, however it is pronounced.
Quo Vaddis Cont.
Note from Erin: the WiFi in Trelew is very spotty, so the photos will have to wait!
(Steve)
By this point, you are probably wondering about the name of this post… Quo Vaddis was the name of the boat that took us on the tour. It must be the flagship of the fleet as it was the biggest catamaran on the lake and that night we saw an ad in the Aerolineas Argentinas in flight magazine for the tour company and the boat in the picture was none other than our boat. The catamaran had three levels, the lower two were enclosed passenger compartments with observation decks at the rear . The top was an observation deck and the boat’s bridge.
The passenger compartments were comfortably outfitted with leather chairs and huge windows. During the winter, the deep waters of Lago Argentino never freeze, so I imagine that they use these boats all year round, though the roads from El Calafate to the marina an hour away are reportedly barely passable during the deep winter snows. If anything, I would have wanted more outdoor observation room as I found the cabin too warm and wanted to be outside I the wind.
Our first stop after about an hour was in a section of the park that appeared to be a low valley filled with a strange forest of trees. This is a part of the National Park, so there was a restaurant (see Erin’s post). The coolest part for me was a walk of about 800 meters through the forest to the Lago Moretti, a lake formed at the base of a smaller glacier. The trees in the forest are unique to this area and could serve as a movie set for a haunted forest. The trees were twisted, spaced apart in the woods, and covered with grey moss. The woods were filled with birds. The little lake was filled with icebergs… some smaller pieces were close enough to the shore for us to touch, which Paco was excited to do. In colder months, the ice comes all the way to the beach and it’s possible to climb onto some of them, but not this time.
After lunch, we got back on the boat and made our way to Glacier Upsala, the largest in the park.
Normally, it’s possible for the boats to navigate to within a couple of hundred meters of the huge face of the glacier but they had a huge portion of the glacier break off within the past week or two and we couldn’t get within 3 kilometers (!) due to the huge ice flows. Many of the icebergs were enormous. Imagine that the face of the glacier is more than 3 kilometers wide and the entire channel was completely filled with huge chunks of ice. The icebergs were the most amazing shade of blue due to the highly compressed and pure nature of the ice within them. I don’t think it’s possible to capture this scale in pictures, but I tried.
We cruised by bergs that dwarfed the boat and many had the most unbelievable shapes including holes, arcs, etc.
After roaming amongst the bergs for about 30 minutes we turned around and made our way down another arm of the lake towards Glacier Spegazzini. Along the way, we saw the rock formations created over the years by the glaciers and saw another smaller one that had work a nice crevasse into the mountains. The glacier was still there, but the ice stopped about a thousand feet above the lake, so the area between was filled with running water and small falls.
Spegazzini isn’t the largest glacier in the park, but it is the tallest. The wall of ice on the face was reported to be nearly 450 feet high and the glacier was working it’s way down a steep mountain side that went up over 3000 feet above the lake… the force on the ice must be incredible. The face was covered with huge cracks and many enormous pieces appeared to be teetering on the edge of falling off, but nothing occurred while we were there.
I had no idea what to expect of the tour but I was impressed. The entire trip was well organized, from the bus from the hotel to the boat itself. The ship was impressive. Later in the afternoon during the trip back to the marina, the captain invited Paco to come up to the bridge for photos. He even offered to let him sit in his chair and “steer” the boat, but Paco got shy and wouldn’t do it. The bridge was impressive and very luxurious… the ever present thermos of hot water and Mate next to the captain’s work area.
Erin now: So what happened with the Captain was that a staff member came to Paco and asked if he wanted to meet the Captain. Paco announced to the entire cabin “I am going to meet the Captain” loudly in English and proceeded to march with Steve upstairs. When Paco did not want to sit in the chair, he said, “I just wanted to see the captain” and that was that. Still, this, in contrast to our experience at the restaurant, is a more traditional reflection of Argentine treatment of kids!
Steve again: After the return to the marina, we boarded the same bus for the trip home. Let’s just say that the fleet of boats is one of the main attractions for visitors to El Calafate… in fact, it’s probably the reason for the whole town’s existence as a tourist destination (there are no other industries here other than some cattle operations like throughout Patagonia. There were twelve or so full-sized tour busses waiting… these busses are there for nothing other than shuttling people back and forth from town the 50 km or so to the marina and back.
Paco and I were bushed, but Paco insisted on accompanying me into town. The bus would be making a stop near the town center before making its way to our hotel. He and I decided to get off early so I could find some sunglasses as I had broken mine and would need them for the trek on the ice the next day. What a trooper, Paco walked proudly throughout the town in his hiking boots. He was the judge of which glassed I would buy, then we made our way to the place where the taxis and remises pick you up. We waited for about ten minutes and when our car arrived we hopped in and told the drive to take us to our hotel. The driver turned and said, “Senior Haas, si?” It turned out to be Raúl, the employee from the hotel who had helped us that morning. Like many people in this town, apparently, he has two or three different jobs. The taxis are the personal cars of their drivers equipped with the metering equipment and they put a “taxi” or “remise” sign in the window when they are working and take it down when they are not.
Erin now: I stayed on the bus while the boys went into to town to find the sunglasses. And the bus started dropping people off, but dropped off some in the city center. When he got close to the Hotel, he said Señora Lumpama, acá! And had stopped 50m from the door, uphill with the backpack and all the lunch boxes. It was a stark contrast to the morning when people were collected at the door! Steve: The explanation was that the bus could not make it up the steep gravel drives to the hotels while loaded with passengers. That morning we were the second stop so the bus had been nearly empty. Erin: Sure.
Steve: We were all exhausted and decided to have an early dinner at the hotel and get to sleep early so we could get an early start in the morning. Our plan was for me to go on the ice trek while Erin and Paco took a remise to the park to see Perito Moreno. I was talking to the folks at the hotel about a late check out… I had been led to believe that the mini trek was only a half-day adventure, so I wanted to be able to use the room until about 2 or 3 so I could shower after the hike and before the flight to Trelew. Ana, at the front desk, seemed confused and said that she didn’t think I would be back before 6 or 7 pm… a real issue as our flight was at 7 or so. Hmmm, a call to the trekking company confirmed this… indeed the mini-trek was only 90 minutes on the ice but with travel time, waiting for the boat to cross the channel, and time to wait while the folks on the longer trip made their way back, it was a full day. Oops, I had to cancel or I would miss the flight. The tour company was not very nice about much of this as it was they who originally told me I could be done by 2 pm or so. They gave me a hard time about cancelling, of course, but they did credit me back. I was a bit bummed about missing this opportunity, but it turns out that we would have a terrific day all together the anyway.
(Steve)
By this point, you are probably wondering about the name of this post… Quo Vaddis was the name of the boat that took us on the tour. It must be the flagship of the fleet as it was the biggest catamaran on the lake and that night we saw an ad in the Aerolineas Argentinas in flight magazine for the tour company and the boat in the picture was none other than our boat. The catamaran had three levels, the lower two were enclosed passenger compartments with observation decks at the rear . The top was an observation deck and the boat’s bridge.
The passenger compartments were comfortably outfitted with leather chairs and huge windows. During the winter, the deep waters of Lago Argentino never freeze, so I imagine that they use these boats all year round, though the roads from El Calafate to the marina an hour away are reportedly barely passable during the deep winter snows. If anything, I would have wanted more outdoor observation room as I found the cabin too warm and wanted to be outside I the wind.
Our first stop after about an hour was in a section of the park that appeared to be a low valley filled with a strange forest of trees. This is a part of the National Park, so there was a restaurant (see Erin’s post). The coolest part for me was a walk of about 800 meters through the forest to the Lago Moretti, a lake formed at the base of a smaller glacier. The trees in the forest are unique to this area and could serve as a movie set for a haunted forest. The trees were twisted, spaced apart in the woods, and covered with grey moss. The woods were filled with birds. The little lake was filled with icebergs… some smaller pieces were close enough to the shore for us to touch, which Paco was excited to do. In colder months, the ice comes all the way to the beach and it’s possible to climb onto some of them, but not this time.
After lunch, we got back on the boat and made our way to Glacier Upsala, the largest in the park.
Normally, it’s possible for the boats to navigate to within a couple of hundred meters of the huge face of the glacier but they had a huge portion of the glacier break off within the past week or two and we couldn’t get within 3 kilometers (!) due to the huge ice flows. Many of the icebergs were enormous. Imagine that the face of the glacier is more than 3 kilometers wide and the entire channel was completely filled with huge chunks of ice. The icebergs were the most amazing shade of blue due to the highly compressed and pure nature of the ice within them. I don’t think it’s possible to capture this scale in pictures, but I tried.
We cruised by bergs that dwarfed the boat and many had the most unbelievable shapes including holes, arcs, etc.
After roaming amongst the bergs for about 30 minutes we turned around and made our way down another arm of the lake towards Glacier Spegazzini. Along the way, we saw the rock formations created over the years by the glaciers and saw another smaller one that had work a nice crevasse into the mountains. The glacier was still there, but the ice stopped about a thousand feet above the lake, so the area between was filled with running water and small falls.
Spegazzini isn’t the largest glacier in the park, but it is the tallest. The wall of ice on the face was reported to be nearly 450 feet high and the glacier was working it’s way down a steep mountain side that went up over 3000 feet above the lake… the force on the ice must be incredible. The face was covered with huge cracks and many enormous pieces appeared to be teetering on the edge of falling off, but nothing occurred while we were there.
I had no idea what to expect of the tour but I was impressed. The entire trip was well organized, from the bus from the hotel to the boat itself. The ship was impressive. Later in the afternoon during the trip back to the marina, the captain invited Paco to come up to the bridge for photos. He even offered to let him sit in his chair and “steer” the boat, but Paco got shy and wouldn’t do it. The bridge was impressive and very luxurious… the ever present thermos of hot water and Mate next to the captain’s work area.
Erin now: So what happened with the Captain was that a staff member came to Paco and asked if he wanted to meet the Captain. Paco announced to the entire cabin “I am going to meet the Captain” loudly in English and proceeded to march with Steve upstairs. When Paco did not want to sit in the chair, he said, “I just wanted to see the captain” and that was that. Still, this, in contrast to our experience at the restaurant, is a more traditional reflection of Argentine treatment of kids!
Steve again: After the return to the marina, we boarded the same bus for the trip home. Let’s just say that the fleet of boats is one of the main attractions for visitors to El Calafate… in fact, it’s probably the reason for the whole town’s existence as a tourist destination (there are no other industries here other than some cattle operations like throughout Patagonia. There were twelve or so full-sized tour busses waiting… these busses are there for nothing other than shuttling people back and forth from town the 50 km or so to the marina and back.
Paco and I were bushed, but Paco insisted on accompanying me into town. The bus would be making a stop near the town center before making its way to our hotel. He and I decided to get off early so I could find some sunglasses as I had broken mine and would need them for the trek on the ice the next day. What a trooper, Paco walked proudly throughout the town in his hiking boots. He was the judge of which glassed I would buy, then we made our way to the place where the taxis and remises pick you up. We waited for about ten minutes and when our car arrived we hopped in and told the drive to take us to our hotel. The driver turned and said, “Senior Haas, si?” It turned out to be Raúl, the employee from the hotel who had helped us that morning. Like many people in this town, apparently, he has two or three different jobs. The taxis are the personal cars of their drivers equipped with the metering equipment and they put a “taxi” or “remise” sign in the window when they are working and take it down when they are not.
Erin now: I stayed on the bus while the boys went into to town to find the sunglasses. And the bus started dropping people off, but dropped off some in the city center. When he got close to the Hotel, he said Señora Lumpama, acá! And had stopped 50m from the door, uphill with the backpack and all the lunch boxes. It was a stark contrast to the morning when people were collected at the door! Steve: The explanation was that the bus could not make it up the steep gravel drives to the hotels while loaded with passengers. That morning we were the second stop so the bus had been nearly empty. Erin: Sure.
Steve: We were all exhausted and decided to have an early dinner at the hotel and get to sleep early so we could get an early start in the morning. Our plan was for me to go on the ice trek while Erin and Paco took a remise to the park to see Perito Moreno. I was talking to the folks at the hotel about a late check out… I had been led to believe that the mini trek was only a half-day adventure, so I wanted to be able to use the room until about 2 or 3 so I could shower after the hike and before the flight to Trelew. Ana, at the front desk, seemed confused and said that she didn’t think I would be back before 6 or 7 pm… a real issue as our flight was at 7 or so. Hmmm, a call to the trekking company confirmed this… indeed the mini-trek was only 90 minutes on the ice but with travel time, waiting for the boat to cross the channel, and time to wait while the folks on the longer trip made their way back, it was a full day. Oops, I had to cancel or I would miss the flight. The tour company was not very nice about much of this as it was they who originally told me I could be done by 2 pm or so. They gave me a hard time about cancelling, of course, but they did credit me back. I was a bit bummed about missing this opportunity, but it turns out that we would have a terrific day all together the anyway.
The bus trip and the porteños
The Quo Vaddis (Steve’s Entry)
Of course, the primary reason for anyone to visit El Calafate is the city’s location as the gateway to the Parques Nacionales de los Glacieres. There are a few ways to see this incredible natural wonder. The easiest is to visit an overlook of the Perito Moreno glacier (more on that later), another is to take a mini-trek of a 90 minute walk on Perito Moreno by guided tour using crampons. Given that Paco is too young to take the hike on the ice (minimum age is 10) I decided on a third plan, a boat trip from Puerto Banderas that lasts the whole day and visit’s the faces of three glaciers, (Upsala, Spaegazzini and a combo of 3 little ones: Agassiz, Bolado and Onelli). We worried about Pancho’s sustained level of interest on a full-day boat trip, so we came prepared… or I should say that Supermom was prepared.
We had read about the boat trip in advance and wanted to make reservations ahead of time. Since our only full day in the area was to fall on a Saturday, I was anxious about not finding room on the boat. In the style to which we’ve now become accustomed , we found it impossible to book tickets more than 24 hours in advance of the day and ONLY in person and in cash at the office of the tour company in El Calafate. We were scheduled to arrive in El Calafate around 4:30 PM, giving us time to run down to the office before they closed at 9 pm. Of course, the flight was moved around so we were running a bit late. After dropping off our things at the hotel, we took a stroll down to town to book the tickets… turned out to be no problem.
Erin now: Ha! Stroll! Steve hauled a++ while I pushed Pancho. It was actually fine, except Steve was in a total Haas-style panic. So when Pancho and I arrived at the boat-tour operator, Steve had already sorted it all out, but I took over the details and then sent Steve to sign-up for the Mini-trekking. When we found him a few minutes later, he was set, but Pancho and I were disappointed. We had read that the tour offered mini-trekking for all ages and abilities, but not so. But then we headed to La Cocina, which that evening was warm and wonderful and the perfect end to a long day.
So Saturday morning (FYI, assume any conversation in El Calafate is in Spanish. We found that while most people spoke at least tourist English, they truly appreciated and supported our desire to practice and improve. Ana and Pablo at the Hosteleria Lumpama both speak English fluently, but Ana had told me that we would not be conversing in English once we arrived. Steve had no idea that Pablo spoke English until he needed to clarify something and had concerns about the communication barrier. I said, “speak to him in English.” Steve had no idea he could!).
OK, on Saturday morning we woke up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus that was due to arrive between 7 and 7:30. Steve and I were both beat and dragged ourselves downstairs for breakfast. When I saw the table prepped, with media lunas and cereal, I asked, “Is this for us?” to which Raúl answered, “Sí.” (OK, native speakers, need guidance here, would you use “Esta para nosotros?” or “por” in this instance? Because I used para since it felt like a gift to come downstairs and see everything waiting!)
We discovered, scarily, that Paco loved Tang. And he just told me he really liked the cake with the dulce de leche and the meringue dollops on top. (It was delicious). He liked the idea of it more than the actual cake and he pulled off the meringue and had me scrape off the dulce de leche.
The bus arrived at 7:15 at the door of the hotel, which is up a small gravel hill. As we left, Raúl presented us with our lunches that we had ordered the night before. The bus then continued for 4 to 5 hotels to collect everyone. It seemed to take forever to get to the main road to the Puerto Bandera. Paco passed out, then woke up when we got the to the port. Then, in true Argentine fashion, everyone had to get off the bus to pay the fee for the park entrance, half of the people then went on to a boat that would take them past the huge Perito Moreno glacier, and then half joined us back on the bus, to the other side of the port to take the boat tour of the other glaciers. At this point, a tired Pancho burst into tears and was in the middle of a time-out for hitting me (which he does when tired) when a man said to me in Spanish that he thought he could use something I did not understand. When I said, oh, I am not familiar with that, he explained it was a smack. I smiled and let Pancho keep crying and then the wife said to me as we got off the bus, Pancho is just tired, it is an early start for him. Then proceeded to tell me how impressed she was with Pancho’s understanding of Castellano.
I’ll let Steve describe the boat, but it was impressive. We found again, that Paco gave us special treatment as the purser ensured we found 3 seats together on the upper level. However, unlike previous boats I have been on, most of this boat was enclosed. I suppose the climate is unpredictable. Paco insisted on wearing his life jacket (I am the dorky mom who brings it from the States), but quickly grew tired of the crowds outside and seemed more content to be inside the boat, where, really, we had a perfectly good view. We traveled for about an hour through the impressive Lago Argentino, the largest lake in Argentina (that is this awesome whitened blue due to the minerals from the glaciers), before arriving at a wooded area that now I cannot read on the map. (Mental note, add here later). Here there is a restaurant and a trail to the other side of the point. I took Paco on my shoulders and we hauled out to the end of the trail. It was beautiful. Paco had not been feeling well (and there was a big fight about chocolate on the boat. Steve and I are now convinced it was two mistakes we made as parents (involving chocolate and communication) and as well, the Dramamine we had let him take when Steve took his.) I was concerned about his eating. So I was a bit anxious to get back to the restaurant when it started serving to make sure we had options other than the ham and cheese sandwiches (with, I am not exaggerating, easily had 3T of butter on the bread) that we had brought with us. That, and I had to go the bathroom. Steve and Paco hung out at the end of the trail while I tried to beat the crowds back to the restaurant. I grabbed a table (it was all family style) or rather 3 chairs of 6 and waited for my boys. Steve showed up with a smiling Paco on his shoulders. When they sat down a couple about Mike and Judy’s age, also from Buenos Aires joined us to share the table. For the rest of this conversation, I have to refer to them as Mike and Judy, for reasons that will become clear in a minute. The food was a choice of 3 menus, the plate of the day which was a fried fish with ham and cheese melted on it (ham and cheese seems to be a big thing here, Steve and I are both weary of it), a lomo (nice beef loin) with fries, and a spaghetti Bolognese, all came with soup that was pretty garlicky. Now, the following story was all in Spanish, which makes it even funnier, but if you know my in-laws, and can imagine them there instead of this couple from BA, you will have an idea of the events…
So the soup came and Paco was hungry, so he was picking at his ham and cheese and drinking his water. A few minutes passed and the manager of the restaurant (hereto referred as el jefe) came over and told Steve the sandwich had to be put away and the water. The food was in front of Paco’s plate and Steve and I had already ordered. Steve did not quite understand, but then got it and told Paco he had to wait until our food arrived and we would share it. Paco, burst into tears and then realized there was bread on the table. Finally, our waiter Horatio, brought the water we had ordered. The Judy asked if Paco could have his sandwich since he was a just a little boy and the other food was not ready yet. My eyes filled with tears at her kindness because we had not even exchanged a word before except to motion that there was room at the table. She gave me a hug, called me niña and said, basically, this is stupid. Horatio had come back to say the Jefe said no. Upon which the Mike and the Judy discussed in a rapid Spanish that I could not really get that this was ridiculous, the soup was spicy, there was no kids menu, what did these people think? Paco was 3, not 10 and we had ordered meals for ourselves. I think there were some Spanish words in there that I would prefer not to know as well. Upon which, the Mike decided enough was enough and went up to the manager and basically stayed there, arguing with his hands for several minutes until he returned and said, in Spanish, “La bruja dijo que el niño puede comer lo que quiere.” I think I got that right. Which basically translates as the witch said that the child can eat what he wants. Then we all discussed how not Argentine that was. For me, normally, Argentines own their children as a community. People are fast to give you advice and help and hate to see a child cry. I also find that Steve and I tend to let Paco cry if he is misbehaving and that this is very difficult for the Argentine. The main with the spanking idea is rare (he was probably not Argentine!). They really want us to just hold and kiss him and maybe give him a cookie. Paco is often given cookies or candy in many situation and usually no one will let us pay for them. In an accumulation of 6 weeks of my life here, I have twice, twice, had someone not offer me their spot in line, wave me in front or just stop everything and everyone to help me. My German friend Anne jokes that the Argentine custom of pulling the stroller to the front of passport control is unheard of in Germany, and if anything the stroller just slows you down. I had to laugh as the Germans looked at us strangely in Bariloche and El Calafate, where, between the stroller and having a kid named Francisco, we have often been given special treatment at the German tourist’s expense.
Anyway, the Mike and the Judy felt horrible, and could not believe it. The Mike even tried to buy our lunch. Between their kindness and their fortitude, we felt like in that moment, we had Steve’s porteños parents with us.
We got back on the boat and between the food and the Tylenol, Paco was much better. But he and I still felt horrible and stayed inside most of the time. Glacier report and photos coming soon…I am sorry, I am beat and need to join the boys in a nap. FYI, we are in Trelew now, but sick and pooped. So taking it easy today. Love, Erin
Of course, the primary reason for anyone to visit El Calafate is the city’s location as the gateway to the Parques Nacionales de los Glacieres. There are a few ways to see this incredible natural wonder. The easiest is to visit an overlook of the Perito Moreno glacier (more on that later), another is to take a mini-trek of a 90 minute walk on Perito Moreno by guided tour using crampons. Given that Paco is too young to take the hike on the ice (minimum age is 10) I decided on a third plan, a boat trip from Puerto Banderas that lasts the whole day and visit’s the faces of three glaciers, (Upsala, Spaegazzini and a combo of 3 little ones: Agassiz, Bolado and Onelli). We worried about Pancho’s sustained level of interest on a full-day boat trip, so we came prepared… or I should say that Supermom was prepared.
We had read about the boat trip in advance and wanted to make reservations ahead of time. Since our only full day in the area was to fall on a Saturday, I was anxious about not finding room on the boat. In the style to which we’ve now become accustomed , we found it impossible to book tickets more than 24 hours in advance of the day and ONLY in person and in cash at the office of the tour company in El Calafate. We were scheduled to arrive in El Calafate around 4:30 PM, giving us time to run down to the office before they closed at 9 pm. Of course, the flight was moved around so we were running a bit late. After dropping off our things at the hotel, we took a stroll down to town to book the tickets… turned out to be no problem.
Erin now: Ha! Stroll! Steve hauled a++ while I pushed Pancho. It was actually fine, except Steve was in a total Haas-style panic. So when Pancho and I arrived at the boat-tour operator, Steve had already sorted it all out, but I took over the details and then sent Steve to sign-up for the Mini-trekking. When we found him a few minutes later, he was set, but Pancho and I were disappointed. We had read that the tour offered mini-trekking for all ages and abilities, but not so. But then we headed to La Cocina, which that evening was warm and wonderful and the perfect end to a long day.
So Saturday morning (FYI, assume any conversation in El Calafate is in Spanish. We found that while most people spoke at least tourist English, they truly appreciated and supported our desire to practice and improve. Ana and Pablo at the Hosteleria Lumpama both speak English fluently, but Ana had told me that we would not be conversing in English once we arrived. Steve had no idea that Pablo spoke English until he needed to clarify something and had concerns about the communication barrier. I said, “speak to him in English.” Steve had no idea he could!).
OK, on Saturday morning we woke up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus that was due to arrive between 7 and 7:30. Steve and I were both beat and dragged ourselves downstairs for breakfast. When I saw the table prepped, with media lunas and cereal, I asked, “Is this for us?” to which Raúl answered, “Sí.” (OK, native speakers, need guidance here, would you use “Esta para nosotros?” or “por” in this instance? Because I used para since it felt like a gift to come downstairs and see everything waiting!)
We discovered, scarily, that Paco loved Tang. And he just told me he really liked the cake with the dulce de leche and the meringue dollops on top. (It was delicious). He liked the idea of it more than the actual cake and he pulled off the meringue and had me scrape off the dulce de leche.
The bus arrived at 7:15 at the door of the hotel, which is up a small gravel hill. As we left, Raúl presented us with our lunches that we had ordered the night before. The bus then continued for 4 to 5 hotels to collect everyone. It seemed to take forever to get to the main road to the Puerto Bandera. Paco passed out, then woke up when we got the to the port. Then, in true Argentine fashion, everyone had to get off the bus to pay the fee for the park entrance, half of the people then went on to a boat that would take them past the huge Perito Moreno glacier, and then half joined us back on the bus, to the other side of the port to take the boat tour of the other glaciers. At this point, a tired Pancho burst into tears and was in the middle of a time-out for hitting me (which he does when tired) when a man said to me in Spanish that he thought he could use something I did not understand. When I said, oh, I am not familiar with that, he explained it was a smack. I smiled and let Pancho keep crying and then the wife said to me as we got off the bus, Pancho is just tired, it is an early start for him. Then proceeded to tell me how impressed she was with Pancho’s understanding of Castellano.
I’ll let Steve describe the boat, but it was impressive. We found again, that Paco gave us special treatment as the purser ensured we found 3 seats together on the upper level. However, unlike previous boats I have been on, most of this boat was enclosed. I suppose the climate is unpredictable. Paco insisted on wearing his life jacket (I am the dorky mom who brings it from the States), but quickly grew tired of the crowds outside and seemed more content to be inside the boat, where, really, we had a perfectly good view. We traveled for about an hour through the impressive Lago Argentino, the largest lake in Argentina (that is this awesome whitened blue due to the minerals from the glaciers), before arriving at a wooded area that now I cannot read on the map. (Mental note, add here later). Here there is a restaurant and a trail to the other side of the point. I took Paco on my shoulders and we hauled out to the end of the trail. It was beautiful. Paco had not been feeling well (and there was a big fight about chocolate on the boat. Steve and I are now convinced it was two mistakes we made as parents (involving chocolate and communication) and as well, the Dramamine we had let him take when Steve took his.) I was concerned about his eating. So I was a bit anxious to get back to the restaurant when it started serving to make sure we had options other than the ham and cheese sandwiches (with, I am not exaggerating, easily had 3T of butter on the bread) that we had brought with us. That, and I had to go the bathroom. Steve and Paco hung out at the end of the trail while I tried to beat the crowds back to the restaurant. I grabbed a table (it was all family style) or rather 3 chairs of 6 and waited for my boys. Steve showed up with a smiling Paco on his shoulders. When they sat down a couple about Mike and Judy’s age, also from Buenos Aires joined us to share the table. For the rest of this conversation, I have to refer to them as Mike and Judy, for reasons that will become clear in a minute. The food was a choice of 3 menus, the plate of the day which was a fried fish with ham and cheese melted on it (ham and cheese seems to be a big thing here, Steve and I are both weary of it), a lomo (nice beef loin) with fries, and a spaghetti Bolognese, all came with soup that was pretty garlicky. Now, the following story was all in Spanish, which makes it even funnier, but if you know my in-laws, and can imagine them there instead of this couple from BA, you will have an idea of the events…
So the soup came and Paco was hungry, so he was picking at his ham and cheese and drinking his water. A few minutes passed and the manager of the restaurant (hereto referred as el jefe) came over and told Steve the sandwich had to be put away and the water. The food was in front of Paco’s plate and Steve and I had already ordered. Steve did not quite understand, but then got it and told Paco he had to wait until our food arrived and we would share it. Paco, burst into tears and then realized there was bread on the table. Finally, our waiter Horatio, brought the water we had ordered. The Judy asked if Paco could have his sandwich since he was a just a little boy and the other food was not ready yet. My eyes filled with tears at her kindness because we had not even exchanged a word before except to motion that there was room at the table. She gave me a hug, called me niña and said, basically, this is stupid. Horatio had come back to say the Jefe said no. Upon which the Mike and the Judy discussed in a rapid Spanish that I could not really get that this was ridiculous, the soup was spicy, there was no kids menu, what did these people think? Paco was 3, not 10 and we had ordered meals for ourselves. I think there were some Spanish words in there that I would prefer not to know as well. Upon which, the Mike decided enough was enough and went up to the manager and basically stayed there, arguing with his hands for several minutes until he returned and said, in Spanish, “La bruja dijo que el niño puede comer lo que quiere.” I think I got that right. Which basically translates as the witch said that the child can eat what he wants. Then we all discussed how not Argentine that was. For me, normally, Argentines own their children as a community. People are fast to give you advice and help and hate to see a child cry. I also find that Steve and I tend to let Paco cry if he is misbehaving and that this is very difficult for the Argentine. The main with the spanking idea is rare (he was probably not Argentine!). They really want us to just hold and kiss him and maybe give him a cookie. Paco is often given cookies or candy in many situation and usually no one will let us pay for them. In an accumulation of 6 weeks of my life here, I have twice, twice, had someone not offer me their spot in line, wave me in front or just stop everything and everyone to help me. My German friend Anne jokes that the Argentine custom of pulling the stroller to the front of passport control is unheard of in Germany, and if anything the stroller just slows you down. I had to laugh as the Germans looked at us strangely in Bariloche and El Calafate, where, between the stroller and having a kid named Francisco, we have often been given special treatment at the German tourist’s expense.
Anyway, the Mike and the Judy felt horrible, and could not believe it. The Mike even tried to buy our lunch. Between their kindness and their fortitude, we felt like in that moment, we had Steve’s porteños parents with us.
We got back on the boat and between the food and the Tylenol, Paco was much better. But he and I still felt horrible and stayed inside most of the time. Glacier report and photos coming soon…I am sorry, I am beat and need to join the boys in a nap. FYI, we are in Trelew now, but sick and pooped. So taking it easy today. Love, Erin
More notes on Bariloche
Steve thought Bariloche was very pleasant. Though the lack of traffic signals he found bothersome. I think they were there, just hard to see. And, like anywhere in Argentina, pedestrians are an afterthought. I find the stroller to be the great communicator and many cars stopped when they saw the wheels. Steve also just commented on all the dogs. Huge dogs, full-bred, mutts, but all huge. Gisela’s house had a total of 7, 5 puppies, less than a week old, their mother, and Guara, Paco’s friend.
One thing I really liked about Bariloche was that I thought the customer service was quite good. We went to a restaurant a couple of times and then the Havanna in town (Havanna is kind of like the Starbucks of Argentina, they are famous for their alfajores, their dulce de leche filled shortbread sandwich cookies); and the staff treated us very kindly. I think they really appreciated the desire and effort to learn Spanish. The Havanna came to know us and I felt attached when we said good-bye!
A couple of funny Spanish things…in the Patagonia they seem to say 2 things that I had not heard as much in BA or Mendoza. The first is: “míravos” meaning, you (the argentine informal “vos”) and “look.” It reality, especially in Bariloche, they seem to use to mean anything confirming, “look at that!” “really?” or “wow” could all be translations. Steve just mentioned that it is the Patagonian version of Che, but I heard plenty o Che in Bariloche as well! The other is “dale” (I think I spelled that correctly” meaning, “c’mon” or “ok then” or any kind of effort to move things ahead.
Also, Friday night in El Calafate, while at La Cocina, pobre Panchito was just exhausted. He ate a ton of broccoli, carne and bread with gusto, but also while falling asleep. We transferred him to the stroller and the little bug passed out cold while we sat at the table. Steve and I then enjoyed dessert with a sleeping Pancho next to the table.
One thing I really liked about Bariloche was that I thought the customer service was quite good. We went to a restaurant a couple of times and then the Havanna in town (Havanna is kind of like the Starbucks of Argentina, they are famous for their alfajores, their dulce de leche filled shortbread sandwich cookies); and the staff treated us very kindly. I think they really appreciated the desire and effort to learn Spanish. The Havanna came to know us and I felt attached when we said good-bye!
A couple of funny Spanish things…in the Patagonia they seem to say 2 things that I had not heard as much in BA or Mendoza. The first is: “míravos” meaning, you (the argentine informal “vos”) and “look.” It reality, especially in Bariloche, they seem to use to mean anything confirming, “look at that!” “really?” or “wow” could all be translations. Steve just mentioned that it is the Patagonian version of Che, but I heard plenty o Che in Bariloche as well! The other is “dale” (I think I spelled that correctly” meaning, “c’mon” or “ok then” or any kind of effort to move things ahead.
Also, Friday night in El Calafate, while at La Cocina, pobre Panchito was just exhausted. He ate a ton of broccoli, carne and bread with gusto, but also while falling asleep. We transferred him to the stroller and the little bug passed out cold while we sat at the table. Steve and I then enjoyed dessert with a sleeping Pancho next to the table.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Adios, Bariloche
Friday morning, I skipped class (gasp) and Paco skipped the Jardín to run some last minute errands and also because Paco and I both had colds. The reality, too, was that I just was not that interested in 2 more hours with Nadina. In end, we got along well, but I found her love of the language was not that of previous teachers I had. We tended to chat instead of talking grammar, which is what I was really hoping to do.
We discovered our flight was late and hung out at Gisela's for an extra hour before Gisela took us to the airport. Gisela was just a wonderful hostess for us and both Steve and I think we will be back. I found Bariloche less than enchanting. But I would go back just to hang out at Gisela's. It was her hospitality and her long time housekeeper/nanny/woman of magic made us feel so spoiled. Marissa made our beds everyday (I just threw the covers up, she actually made them). We had our own bathroom and Marissa dis most of our laundry. We felt so well looked after we hated to leave. And we were coming from the Llao Llao!
We flew out of Bariloche to El Calafate with a small delay. In true Argentine fashion, we were again pulled out of line to board first. Steve sat near the window and stared out as we flew into El Calfate. The Andes were stunning for sure and one could even see a Glacier or two out the window. The hilarious part is that I was on the aisle, there was a connection to Ushuaia that people were barely going to make. So those people ran up to the front the minute the wheels were on the ground. But then, I practically got trampled by two very aggressive people, who were waiting the same 30 minutes for their luggage that we were.
The taxi the the hotel had sent was very kind, and we piled all our stuff in and headed to Calafate. The hotel sits on a hill with a view of the town. The centro, which is not terribly large, is an easy 15 minute walk. Steve booked downtown to book our boat for Saturday and his mini-trek for Sunday. We met him a few minutes later. After learning that Paco was too young for the glacier walk, (one has to be 10), we found a lovely restaurant (ok, not found, it was in Frommer's) called La Cocina. As well, it had a British couple with a little 2.5 year old and they gave me some pointers for activities with Paco.
Tomorrow the boat tour!
We discovered our flight was late and hung out at Gisela's for an extra hour before Gisela took us to the airport. Gisela was just a wonderful hostess for us and both Steve and I think we will be back. I found Bariloche less than enchanting. But I would go back just to hang out at Gisela's. It was her hospitality and her long time housekeeper/nanny/woman of magic made us feel so spoiled. Marissa made our beds everyday (I just threw the covers up, she actually made them). We had our own bathroom and Marissa dis most of our laundry. We felt so well looked after we hated to leave. And we were coming from the Llao Llao!
We flew out of Bariloche to El Calafate with a small delay. In true Argentine fashion, we were again pulled out of line to board first. Steve sat near the window and stared out as we flew into El Calfate. The Andes were stunning for sure and one could even see a Glacier or two out the window. The hilarious part is that I was on the aisle, there was a connection to Ushuaia that people were barely going to make. So those people ran up to the front the minute the wheels were on the ground. But then, I practically got trampled by two very aggressive people, who were waiting the same 30 minutes for their luggage that we were.
The taxi the the hotel had sent was very kind, and we piled all our stuff in and headed to Calafate. The hotel sits on a hill with a view of the town. The centro, which is not terribly large, is an easy 15 minute walk. Steve booked downtown to book our boat for Saturday and his mini-trek for Sunday. We met him a few minutes later. After learning that Paco was too young for the glacier walk, (one has to be 10), we found a lovely restaurant (ok, not found, it was in Frommer's) called La Cocina. As well, it had a British couple with a little 2.5 year old and they gave me some pointers for activities with Paco.
Tomorrow the boat tour!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Link for the House
Here is the link for Gisela's house...
www.quintue.com.ar. She has photos as well.
I couldn't help but post this picture of the sunset last night as seen from the house. Wow, this place is beautiful.
www.quintue.com.ar. She has photos as well.
I couldn't help but post this picture of the sunset last night as seen from the house. Wow, this place is beautiful.
Hace mucho viento: 21 November 2007
The high today was 84, but the wind came in this afternoon and is shaking the house. I cannot believe we only have 2 more nights in this incredible home.
I am disappointed in the school, I have to admit. I think the school in Mendoza was so good that it spoiled me. The school charges us almost 200% of what they pay Gisela and that is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. So perhaps that is part of it.
Today, when we dropped off Paco there was no crying and we had time for a café and media luna before school. Delicious. After school, we ate chorizo (in Argentina it is more like a sausage and is not spicy) in the park.
The scenery in Bariloche is stunning for sure. I cannot believe from this kitchen window I am looking at snow-capped Andes, drinking a cold Rosé because it is so warm. I have been trying to figure out what this place reminded me of and I realized it was Alaska. The majesty, the dramatic vistas. To think that I have seen both is a true gift. But like Alaska there is this feeling of intrusion. When we are with Paco, we blend in better, but yesterday while shopping I had the backpack on, filled with stuff from school and stuff for Paco, and every person selling something on the street shouted, "Hey Señora" as I marched by. I remember seeing Juneau, Alaska and realizing when the cruise ships come in they took up over 1/4 of the town's population. I think this is closer to 50%. And you can pick us out. Boots, warm weather clothing (the Barilochinos (not sure if that is the word) are still confused by the sun this time of year.) backpack and sunglasses. Ah, that is me, a tourist for sure. On the other hand, there is something spectacular about the place. The majesty, the Swiss influence, there is a safety and richness that one cannot ignore. Steve and I were looking in a real estate window and found a home with a view for 200,000 USD. Wow.
Steve is so happy here, I hate to leave. He is getting my cold, and is exhausted (despite a 2 hr nap), but he stared at me and said, "I cannot believe I am here." Paco too, seems to love it. Though I think much of it is Gisela's house. Large and beautiful, full of life it makes us all relax.
Hmm, Maybe I could convince Steve to move. It would certainly improve my Spanish...
I am disappointed in the school, I have to admit. I think the school in Mendoza was so good that it spoiled me. The school charges us almost 200% of what they pay Gisela and that is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. So perhaps that is part of it.
Today, when we dropped off Paco there was no crying and we had time for a café and media luna before school. Delicious. After school, we ate chorizo (in Argentina it is more like a sausage and is not spicy) in the park.
The scenery in Bariloche is stunning for sure. I cannot believe from this kitchen window I am looking at snow-capped Andes, drinking a cold Rosé because it is so warm. I have been trying to figure out what this place reminded me of and I realized it was Alaska. The majesty, the dramatic vistas. To think that I have seen both is a true gift. But like Alaska there is this feeling of intrusion. When we are with Paco, we blend in better, but yesterday while shopping I had the backpack on, filled with stuff from school and stuff for Paco, and every person selling something on the street shouted, "Hey Señora" as I marched by. I remember seeing Juneau, Alaska and realizing when the cruise ships come in they took up over 1/4 of the town's population. I think this is closer to 50%. And you can pick us out. Boots, warm weather clothing (the Barilochinos (not sure if that is the word) are still confused by the sun this time of year.) backpack and sunglasses. Ah, that is me, a tourist for sure. On the other hand, there is something spectacular about the place. The majesty, the Swiss influence, there is a safety and richness that one cannot ignore. Steve and I were looking in a real estate window and found a home with a view for 200,000 USD. Wow.
Steve is so happy here, I hate to leave. He is getting my cold, and is exhausted (despite a 2 hr nap), but he stared at me and said, "I cannot believe I am here." Paco too, seems to love it. Though I think much of it is Gisela's house. Large and beautiful, full of life it makes us all relax.
Hmm, Maybe I could convince Steve to move. It would certainly improve my Spanish...
Un Descanso sin Niño: 20 November 2007
We got a bit of an earlier start this morning and were able to drop Paco off in time not just to walk to school, but also to stop at Havanna and have a quick café. Ah, what a difference. School was fine, I think both Steve and I miss the group classes, but the small break before and after without rushing to get Paco is a treat. After school, we needed to shop to 2 things: Steve needed new boots (the sole of his had ripped off in Mendoza and he needs them for El Calafate) and I really wanted another pair of pants. So we split up and in a power shopping effort we both found success. Amazingly, I found a pair of jeans (thanks to an incredible sales girl throwing me jeans over the curtain rod) in 10 minutes for 55 pesos. That is about 18 dollars. Funny side note, my first formal Spanish teacher speaks a dialect from Madrid. She refuses to say the word "los jeans" (which they say pretty much everywhere but Spai, and perhaps in Spain as well) in an effort to protect her idiom from English cognates. Me, being a dutiful student, still cannot say "jeans" without feeling that I am going to get an specific, exasperated, look. But, the phrase she uses is, "pantalones vaqueros," which means cowboy pants. You can imagine the look I got when I forgot to say "jeans" in the shop.
Steve paid substantially more for his boots, but was successful nonetheless. After our mad shopping dash, we made out way to Panda to collect Paco, who was happily playing. He told me they had smushed potatoes for lunch. I think this place is big on starches. We decided that 2 weeks was too long to go without Mexican and tried the local place, Zapata. It was a nice change from the parillas and pasta. I had seafood fajitas and Steve lomo (I think that is tenderloin) fajitas. Paco was very happy with tortillas con frijoles.
After a ice cream indulgence and a a taxi back to Gisela's we all passed out for a major siesta. To be honest, I felt horrible and practically fell asleep while waiting for Paco to finish his ice cream. Steve sweetly took care of Paco so I could rest more, until it was time to serve Paco dinner. It took more effort to get him to sleep (a late nap and ice cream, I am sure). But he loved Gisela's chorizo. For the adults, Gisela made a salad with cabbage, lettuce and radishes, and something else that I have no idea what it was. But that, with the chorizo and some rolls were just perfect. They held dinner until I could get Paco down. Steve is really enjoying the camaraderie of the house.
I stayed up way too late trying to purchase tickets for our next international trip, to England in January, and I pretty much blew off my homework. It is a vacation after all?
Oh, a note, when we got home we found much of our laundry had been done and ironed! Poor Marissa. I will have to wash a few things by hand or she will never catch up.
-Erin
Steve paid substantially more for his boots, but was successful nonetheless. After our mad shopping dash, we made out way to Panda to collect Paco, who was happily playing. He told me they had smushed potatoes for lunch. I think this place is big on starches. We decided that 2 weeks was too long to go without Mexican and tried the local place, Zapata. It was a nice change from the parillas and pasta. I had seafood fajitas and Steve lomo (I think that is tenderloin) fajitas. Paco was very happy with tortillas con frijoles.
After a ice cream indulgence and a a taxi back to Gisela's we all passed out for a major siesta. To be honest, I felt horrible and practically fell asleep while waiting for Paco to finish his ice cream. Steve sweetly took care of Paco so I could rest more, until it was time to serve Paco dinner. It took more effort to get him to sleep (a late nap and ice cream, I am sure). But he loved Gisela's chorizo. For the adults, Gisela made a salad with cabbage, lettuce and radishes, and something else that I have no idea what it was. But that, with the chorizo and some rolls were just perfect. They held dinner until I could get Paco down. Steve is really enjoying the camaraderie of the house.
I stayed up way too late trying to purchase tickets for our next international trip, to England in January, and I pretty much blew off my homework. It is a vacation after all?
Oh, a note, when we got home we found much of our laundry had been done and ironed! Poor Marissa. I will have to wash a few things by hand or she will never catch up.
-Erin
El Primer Día de Classes: 19 November 2007
This morning, we woke up at 6:30 with a goal to leave by 7:30. Ha! At 7:55, we were finally out the door. It is a hilarious walk down to the city center. Gisela's road is gravel and for about 1/4 of a mile it is a bumpy path. Then we hit the paved road, but the sidewalks are no good for a stroller. Gisela had generously spent time and driving to show us the way to the school, and then the way to our school. It is not the 2 blocks that it was in Mendoza. However, after about 30 minutes and few incorrect turns, we arrived at Jardín Panda, where Paco will spend the week's mornings. The daycare/preschool is fine, but the building is a crazy house with small curving halls with stairs and bathrooms that are not the cleanest in the world. Paco cried when we left him, but by the time we had finished with the director and given our info, a sweet little girl came downstairs (where we were) to tell us he had stopped crying and was playing.
Steve and I were late, so we grabbed a taxi from Paco's school to ours. It only about 10 blocks, but we were already barely going to make the start time. Unlike Buenos Aires, Bariloche is refreshing because it is considered safe to hail a taxi and there are taxi stands throughout the city center. We arrived at La Montaña, our Spanish school after the taxi dropped us off and we climbed two more staircases. The building has the feel of a cabin, like much of the architecture of Bariloche.
Steve and I have separate, private lessons. Steve is with Laura, whom he can write about later, and I am with Nadina. Nadina is fine, but I find I don't have the rapport with her that I had with the teachers in Mendoza. At break time, they had delicious media lunas and I drank a lot of tea. One thing about Gisela's coffee is not her forte! La Montaña offers activities, though not the level as Intercultural in Mendoza. Steve signed up for a walking tour of the city.
We walked the 10 blocks (need to check this on the map, it feels longer) to collect Paco and found them eating spaghetti. Paco was happily eating and had even asked for a 2nd serving. He seemed very excited that he had been given snacks at his school (ugh, so much like his parents, scary). I had packed him a lunch, just in case, but it remained untouched. The kids in his class asked us, in Spanish, upon our arrival, why do you speak English? It was pretty funny.
I don't get a great feeling from Panda, but it is only for a week and Paco is 3.5, not 1.5. Steve kept pointing out that despite my intuition (don't we moms know everything?), Paco's face was illuminated with his adventure. Also, at lunch, after 2 years of poo-pooing Milanesa, suddenly he stole a third of Steve's sandwich. We ate lunch at La Esquina, The Corner, which is located off of one of the squares in the city center. Gisela had recommended it and wow, it was just yummy. Paco insisted on pizza, so we shared a ham and onion pizza (his with the onions taken off), and Steve ate a sandwich with Milanesa, pounded and breaded veal fried. Well, he ate the part of the sandwich that Paco did not steal. The pizza was full of olive oil and the crust was crispy and light. It was one of the best pizzas I ever have eaten.
Paco knew I wanted to go shopping and he had opted to take his nap in the stroller rather than go back to the house. So we walked to Avenida Mitre, where all the shops are located. I had read in Frommer's that there was a chocolatier on every corner, keeping with the Swiss tradition that influenced the town. Wow, was that understating it. The chocolatiers take up half a block, on every block, with huge counters of different type of chocolates. When Paco finally fell asleep, Steve snuck off one of the more famous ones, Mamushka, to get us a secret stash about which Paco never needs to have knowledge.
Steve and I were both tired, so we went to the Havanna Café in town for espresso and to rest our feet. (I am getting a cold). Paco woke up in the process and immediately said, "Can I have a cookie?" Is this bad that he knows if we have coffee there is something in it for him? After first eating a cucumber, then a cookie, Paco seems satisfied. Steve helped us into a cab and then took off to school for the walking tour. I, being a lazy parent, was exhausted and put on Clifford in Spanish, so I could rest my eyes for a minute. After an episode of that, we headed outside to the garden/yard here to enjoy the sun (it's unusually warm for Bariloche this time of year) and fresh air. Paco was inventing some kind of animal rescue game, a la Diego, but his love of animals stopped at the puppy (about 3 mos) chasing him around the backyard. Guara, is an adorable German Shepard puppy who likes to jump and scares Paco to death. In this middle of the chaos, there was Eva, who was peacefully doing her yoga during the chaos, enjoying the sun.
Steve arrived and I prepped some of the Ravioli that Gisela had for the evening. And Paco, who never eats filled pasta Paco ate a decent portion. Yea! It was a bit of a battle (not too bad) to get Paco to sleep, but sleep he did. And once again we had a lovely adult dinner prepped by Gisela. I failed to do my homework, a very dry article on Pinochet, but the day was a good one. And we slept to the winds coming off of the the lake, shaking the house.
-Erin
Steve and I were late, so we grabbed a taxi from Paco's school to ours. It only about 10 blocks, but we were already barely going to make the start time. Unlike Buenos Aires, Bariloche is refreshing because it is considered safe to hail a taxi and there are taxi stands throughout the city center. We arrived at La Montaña, our Spanish school after the taxi dropped us off and we climbed two more staircases. The building has the feel of a cabin, like much of the architecture of Bariloche.
Steve and I have separate, private lessons. Steve is with Laura, whom he can write about later, and I am with Nadina. Nadina is fine, but I find I don't have the rapport with her that I had with the teachers in Mendoza. At break time, they had delicious media lunas and I drank a lot of tea. One thing about Gisela's coffee is not her forte! La Montaña offers activities, though not the level as Intercultural in Mendoza. Steve signed up for a walking tour of the city.
We walked the 10 blocks (need to check this on the map, it feels longer) to collect Paco and found them eating spaghetti. Paco was happily eating and had even asked for a 2nd serving. He seemed very excited that he had been given snacks at his school (ugh, so much like his parents, scary). I had packed him a lunch, just in case, but it remained untouched. The kids in his class asked us, in Spanish, upon our arrival, why do you speak English? It was pretty funny.
I don't get a great feeling from Panda, but it is only for a week and Paco is 3.5, not 1.5. Steve kept pointing out that despite my intuition (don't we moms know everything?), Paco's face was illuminated with his adventure. Also, at lunch, after 2 years of poo-pooing Milanesa, suddenly he stole a third of Steve's sandwich. We ate lunch at La Esquina, The Corner, which is located off of one of the squares in the city center. Gisela had recommended it and wow, it was just yummy. Paco insisted on pizza, so we shared a ham and onion pizza (his with the onions taken off), and Steve ate a sandwich with Milanesa, pounded and breaded veal fried. Well, he ate the part of the sandwich that Paco did not steal. The pizza was full of olive oil and the crust was crispy and light. It was one of the best pizzas I ever have eaten.
Paco knew I wanted to go shopping and he had opted to take his nap in the stroller rather than go back to the house. So we walked to Avenida Mitre, where all the shops are located. I had read in Frommer's that there was a chocolatier on every corner, keeping with the Swiss tradition that influenced the town. Wow, was that understating it. The chocolatiers take up half a block, on every block, with huge counters of different type of chocolates. When Paco finally fell asleep, Steve snuck off one of the more famous ones, Mamushka, to get us a secret stash about which Paco never needs to have knowledge.
Steve and I were both tired, so we went to the Havanna Café in town for espresso and to rest our feet. (I am getting a cold). Paco woke up in the process and immediately said, "Can I have a cookie?" Is this bad that he knows if we have coffee there is something in it for him? After first eating a cucumber, then a cookie, Paco seems satisfied. Steve helped us into a cab and then took off to school for the walking tour. I, being a lazy parent, was exhausted and put on Clifford in Spanish, so I could rest my eyes for a minute. After an episode of that, we headed outside to the garden/yard here to enjoy the sun (it's unusually warm for Bariloche this time of year) and fresh air. Paco was inventing some kind of animal rescue game, a la Diego, but his love of animals stopped at the puppy (about 3 mos) chasing him around the backyard. Guara, is an adorable German Shepard puppy who likes to jump and scares Paco to death. In this middle of the chaos, there was Eva, who was peacefully doing her yoga during the chaos, enjoying the sun.
Steve arrived and I prepped some of the Ravioli that Gisela had for the evening. And Paco, who never eats filled pasta Paco ate a decent portion. Yea! It was a bit of a battle (not too bad) to get Paco to sleep, but sleep he did. And once again we had a lovely adult dinner prepped by Gisela. I failed to do my homework, a very dry article on Pinochet, but the day was a good one. And we slept to the winds coming off of the the lake, shaking the house.
-Erin
The Family Dinner: 18 November 2007
Tonight was our first night in the "family stay" house. Gisela made a chicken dish that was delicious with cebollas (onions) and roasted potatoes. Paco ate some of the chicken while we had a snack with him. We put him to bed, and then ate like Argentine grown-ups at 9:30! Our company was fun and diverse. Scott, 20, is from San Diego, Eva Maria, whom I suspect is about 30, is Swiss, Sabrina, a bit younger (and traveling independently from Eva) is also Swiss, and then Alex, Gisela's 19-year old son, who has longish hair and plays the drums and Paco thinks is a rock star.
The kitchen is facing the lake, and has beautiful views of the mountains as well. It is directly below our room. At dinner, the chatting was about everything, mostly in Spanish, on occasion in English. Gisela speaks English well and lived in Berkeley long ago. She also speaks German, and has a strong German influence, though I never quite got the story from where.
She told us to leave our laundry and her housekeeper, Marissa would do it. Does Gisela know what that means?
-Erin
The kitchen is facing the lake, and has beautiful views of the mountains as well. It is directly below our room. At dinner, the chatting was about everything, mostly in Spanish, on occasion in English. Gisela speaks English well and lived in Berkeley long ago. She also speaks German, and has a strong German influence, though I never quite got the story from where.
She told us to leave our laundry and her housekeeper, Marissa would do it. Does Gisela know what that means?
-Erin
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
La Conductora Loca: 18 November 2007
At the Llao Llao on Sunday, we were collected in a van driven by Erma or Irma, not sure which, who was well dressed in a black suit and a bright pink blouse. But when I gave her our street name in Bariloche, she gave me a blank stare. So, using my phone, we called our host mother, Gisela, who gave Erma pretty detailed directions. There was one other woman in the car, Spanish speaking, though I am not sure from where, headed to the airport.
I am not sure why Erma did not just take the woman to the airport first, since she had a flight and we had, well, nothing pressing,but looking at the map, I guess the city is on the way, if one knows where one is going.
Well, Erma proceeded to scare me to death as there were no seatbelts and she was quite the tailgater. I have never seen a van leave so little room behind a car. For about 10 miles she was less than 2 ft from the tail of a Renault. Paco passed out with Steve and I both bracing him in his seat, as the slightly twisty road was exaggerated by Erma's driving. Then, she made a turn off the main road and started to look for our house. After about 5 more minutes, she clearly did not know where she was going and told me to call the house again (why she did not write down the directions in the first place, I don't know). So I called again and got Alex, Gisela's 19-year old son who gave more direction. The road had turned to gravel (not unusual here) and the van lumbered uphill. Then Erma's phone rang. And she answered it and started to chat as we were looking for the house! Then, we found the house and she pulled over. The house has a driveway that heads down at about a 30% angle, and has a stone retaining wall. When Erma pulled over, and I opened the door, it was a 2 ft drop. I stupidly asked her to go backwards, but in doing so, she put the front tires on the retaining wall and almost dropped the van. At that point, I ripped Paco out of the car. Our hostess Gisela came out, called the other woman a cab and she and the other woman talked in Spanish (I think) about what a horrible driver Erma is and Gisela could not believe she really worked for Llao Llao. We put our things in the house, and by the time we came out, the taxi had taken the woman and all her golf clubs to the airport. We left Erma there, waiting for a tow truck, while we joined Gisela at the supermercardo. The truck was already on the gravel road when we passed it. Gisela pulled over to tell it not to ruin her wall. I just love this woman. I'll let Steve make edits when he gets a chance.
I am not sure why Erma did not just take the woman to the airport first, since she had a flight and we had, well, nothing pressing,but looking at the map, I guess the city is on the way, if one knows where one is going.
Well, Erma proceeded to scare me to death as there were no seatbelts and she was quite the tailgater. I have never seen a van leave so little room behind a car. For about 10 miles she was less than 2 ft from the tail of a Renault. Paco passed out with Steve and I both bracing him in his seat, as the slightly twisty road was exaggerated by Erma's driving. Then, she made a turn off the main road and started to look for our house. After about 5 more minutes, she clearly did not know where she was going and told me to call the house again (why she did not write down the directions in the first place, I don't know). So I called again and got Alex, Gisela's 19-year old son who gave more direction. The road had turned to gravel (not unusual here) and the van lumbered uphill. Then Erma's phone rang. And she answered it and started to chat as we were looking for the house! Then, we found the house and she pulled over. The house has a driveway that heads down at about a 30% angle, and has a stone retaining wall. When Erma pulled over, and I opened the door, it was a 2 ft drop. I stupidly asked her to go backwards, but in doing so, she put the front tires on the retaining wall and almost dropped the van. At that point, I ripped Paco out of the car. Our hostess Gisela came out, called the other woman a cab and she and the other woman talked in Spanish (I think) about what a horrible driver Erma is and Gisela could not believe she really worked for Llao Llao. We put our things in the house, and by the time we came out, the taxi had taken the woman and all her golf clubs to the airport. We left Erma there, waiting for a tow truck, while we joined Gisela at the supermercardo. The truck was already on the gravel road when we passed it. Gisela pulled over to tell it not to ruin her wall. I just love this woman. I'll let Steve make edits when he gets a chance.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Un Cuarto con Vista (A Room with a View) 18 November 2007
Paco and Steve are sleeping, and I just tried to rearrange all the posts so that they are in order. I'll leave the old versions up until Steve has a chance to look and make sure that I did not leave any out.
We had an adventure getting to the house today. And we are further than the schools than we would prefer to be. But the view, the house and the hospitality of our host Gisela, more than make up for the distance. I am off to bed, but I'll add more tomorrow about the crazy driver that brought us here and how I yanked Paco out of the car when I realized how close she was to a 3ft drop!
I'll leave you with this photo, of our room with a view in Bariloche.
Love, Erin
More From the Pool.
More Pool Photos: 18 November 1007
(From Steve)
Here are some more pictures from the pool. In the first, Erin swam to the outdoor pool which was totally empty given that it's all of 45 degrees outside, but the sun is stunning. Two others are my lame attempt to capture the scenery.
(From Steve)
Here are some more pictures from the pool. In the first, Erin swam to the outdoor pool which was totally empty given that it's all of 45 degrees outside, but the sun is stunning. Two others are my lame attempt to capture the scenery.
No golf, fútbol. 18 November 2007
Erin again:
We left Pbub happily in the kids lounge with an employee from the rec center. Steve and I proceeded to "hike." After walking along the main road with 7 other people, we went behind the golf course and found the trial that was overgrown, because technically, it is barely spring.
After an adventure that culminated in our finding a treehouse...as you can see above, Steve was looking for another trail when my Argentine cell rang. It was the babysitter and she said that Paco had been crying. I met them on the golf course and let me just say, Paco had not been crying much. His cheeks were pink and his eyes dry! Oh well. Afterwards, we played soccer in a nearby field and later the boys went swimming before we met for tea in the "winter garden." The Llao Llao has incredible service except in this area. It was an hour of asking for things 2 or 3 times, them telling Steve they had no room when Steve had already made a reservation for the concierge, it was all very weird.
(Steve now) I had heard from two random people who have been here before about the wonderful afternoon tea at the Llao Llao, so this was on my list of to-dos while here. I think the service issues are related to the fact that if one isn't a guest at the hotel, they don't let you into tea without a reservation. For some reason, despite having arranged it with the concierge upon our arrival and my talking to the host at the tea area, he didn't realize that we were registered guests... go figure. In any case, the view was incomparable, the tea was, well, tea, in typical Argentine style the pastries were scrumptious, but the service was anomalously horrendous. For all the hassle they gave me getting in, there were many empty tables the entire time we were there.
(Back to Erin) Then during naptime, Steve took the laptop to the lobby bar, which looked awesome, but was not really Paco friendly, and I read to Paco The Little Prince in Spanish. Paco listened patiently to my struggling and mis-pronounciation. As many things that drive me crazy about our little traveler, his patience with my Spanish really warms my heart.
Before dinner, we took a photo outside with the horizon of Bariloche. However the clouds were coming in and this is the best we could do. Still. A pretty awesome scene.
Para la cena (for dinner) we went to the Patagonian Cafe , from where we had received food circus the night before. It was lovely. Paco ate bow-tie pasta with zucchini on the side and proceeded to steal all the cucumber and avocado from my salad. Steve had trucha, or trout again, but this time it was a steak. And mine was one of the best meals I have eaten in ages: angolotti with trucha and a saffron sauce. Unbelievable. The staff at the cafe was attentive and wonderful.
This morning, our trucha theme continued. The buffet has both an omelet with fresh trout and a casole with trout and salmon. The pastries (fracturas) were amazing. Filled with dulce de leche, quince, chocolate, ricotta and orange. I am sure there were more, but I cannot remember them all.
After packing and choosing which overpriced souvenirs to buy, we went to the pool and here are the boys swimming while I drink cafe and write this.
The Llao Llao was just the oasis we needed to restart before another week of Spanish immersion. I think it would be ideal to spend 4 nights here. A day to relax, a day for activities and a day to do both. But I will take the 2 full nights we had. Daniel, from Bariloche noticed that I took off my shoes and socks and brought me some slippers. The boys have just come out of the pool and we are eating our snack before resuming our swim. The taxi comes about 3 and we will meet our house mother, Gisela.
My father-in-law has spoken of this place since I have known him, with an Avalon-like description. Every time we traveled together, he would say, beautiful, but it is no Bariloche. I have never been to the Swiss Alps, but at this point in my life, I would have to agree. It is something fantastic. Though for me, I am unsure if it is the scenery, or the resort or the Argentine hospitality that has won my heart. But any one of the 3 is enough to ensure my dream of returning...for 4 days.
Daddy, Where's the golf? 17 November 2007
(Steve posting again)
We got up well rested In fact, we didn't make it out of the room until almost 11... just in time to catch the end of the breakfast included with our stay. The breakfast spread was pretty divine. After the cramped apartment in Mendoza and the travel day, it felt amazing to see a huge buffet, hot coffee, and an attentive wait staff in a salon the size of three basketball courts with a 40 ft. ceiling, and huge windows overlooking the famed view. The photo above is Paco looking out one of the windows trying to see the golf course and the pool, below.
The Llao Llao is famed for it's views as well well as its decor... which would probably throw a member of PETA into complete meltdown. It has a bit of rustic charm with wood everywhere and a kind of "hunting lodge for the richest guy in the world" feel. There are deer skulls with enormous antlers everywhere. The main lobby bar has chandeliers made of anters intertwined to make nests of lights. The chairs in the lobby bar are not only with full-fur deer hides, but many are covered in the delicate spotted pelts of fawns... I'm glad Paco didn't recently watch Bambi or he would have been in tears. It's much more elegant and warm-feeling than my description above makes it sound, though.
Anyway, after breakfast, we went exploring. There is a "kids club" where they offer babysitting services and activities for the kids. Our plan was to keep Paco busy while Erin and I went for a hike in the nearby hills. We found the kids rooms, one of which is filled with pool tables, foosball tables, video games, basically complete heaven for Paco. However, we didn't see any other kids. We found out that we needed to go down another level to the spa where the girl who takes care of the kids could be found. It appears that Paco was the only kid around today. Lilliana from the hotel took Paco to play and Erin and I started our hike.
More to come later
Llao Llao Sunrise
(Steve posting this time) The light at the end of the tunnel didn't say "Haas" but it did say "Llao Llao Hotel." Fabiane and crew were waiting just outside of the baggage claim area at the Bariloche airport. There were three couples and us for the trip in the transport van. I thought we were loaded-down with luggage given that we are three complete with stroller, car seat, and stuffed animals but I think we're actually travelling light as others had more luggage then we did and none of them appeared to be travelling for a month.
Anyway, it was cold, raining, and Fabiane and the driver couldn't have been more welcoming. I was just NOT ready for a long fiasco like we had with Hertz in Mendoza.
Anway, we got to the hotel in the dark, went to the room (very nice), ordered room service (Paco thought it was called "food circus" and we all had fun with our little picnic at 11:30 pm). Exhuasted, we showered and fell asleep.
The image above is what welcomed us this morning. Yes, the image is through the screen in the window, but I wanted to show what we saw. Clear with a few puffy clouds and the sun rising above snow-covered peaks above a clear blue Andean Lago Moreno. We didn't even splurge for a room with a view, this is the cheapest seat in the house!
This is hard for me to say, but I used to think that Lake Tahoe was one of the most beatiful sights in the world until now. The mountains here are much different. The lower elevations are covered in rich vegitation and the peaks rise sharply to snow-covered peaks. Today it's going to be a brisk 12 degrees Celcius but clear and dry.
Will post more about the day's experiences later.
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