Glaciers, Glaciers, Glaciers!!!

I arrived in Calafate early the next day. Having met a med school student from Ireland, Dara, and a farmer from Cataluña Spain, David, on the aforementioned tumultuous bus ride, we set trail into town for our hostels. After checking in, we decided we’d walk down to the lake and check out the scenery. The lake (Lago Argentina) turns out to be completely frozen in the winter months, so we gave the ice a little test run. Born and bread in Hotlanta GA, it amazed me that a lake could actually freeze to the point that it will bear substantial weight – my European friends laughed at me as I tiptoed around the frozen lake, anticipating falling through the surface any second.

The next day the three of us set out for Perito Moreno Glacier. The sight and size of the glacier leaves viewers absolutely star struck as fragments of the nearly 200 foot tall glacier fall into the lake below causing earthquakelike rumbles.

Buenísima!

24 Hour Bus Rides

Before posting about Calafate I want to start by recommending that no one ever take a 24 hour bus ride. Yes it may save you money, but you may loose your sanity as I almost did. The bus ride from Ushuaia to Calafate includes a short 10 mile stint in Chile for which you must stop 4 separate times, 1) Argentina exit customs, 2) Chile entry customs, 3) Chile exit customs and lastly 4) Argentina entry customs again, followed by a freezing cold ferry ride across the Straight of Magellan before connecting in the Rio Gallegos’ bus stop.
The entirely unpaved road and subsequent bumpy ride made it impossible to read, sleep, or even think. The closest I can describe the 24 hours as, is purgatory. The following is a process flow of the Roman Catholic understanding of the afterlife and purgatory’s involvement, offered by Wikipedia, who else?

Well, I must have needed a soul cleansing.

The End of the World

Ushuaia, also known as, "The End of the World"

After a few (12) hour delay and an airport change (30 miles and $40 cab ride away) I finally caught my flight to Ushuaia from Buenos Aires. After landing much later than expected, I checked into my hostel and decided to walk around the freezing cold streets before sunset. Ushuaia, like most cities in Patagonia, is meager in size and abundant with scenes of devastating beauty. The clichés are all here people: soaring peaks, tumbling waterfalls, sparkling bodies of water, quaint rural houses and of course, numerous cows grazing contently in their Patagonian meadows. Not too many buildings are higher than 4 stories. However, a new ritzy hotel in the city center offers a 12th floor view of Ushuaia’s panoramic. I convinced the ladies at the front desk that I was interested in staying but conditionally wanted to take a look at the view from the top floor balcony. They politely escorted me to the top, and I politely enjoyed the view and snapped a photo for the memory.

“Gracias senora, pero pienso que este hotel es demasiado carro.” translates to “Thanks, but I think this hotel is too expensive for me.” My 30 peso/night ($10 USD) hostel was pretty hard to beat. But in the end, when you pay peanuts, you get monkeys, or in this case an icebox. My room was about 2 clicks above freezing. After reading for several minutes and realizing that I was not going to get a wink of sleep in my freezer, I decided to take a sleeping pill (Doc prescribed me a few before the trip for flights, jetlag and freezing cold hostels). Just then I heard something outside my door. Slightly freaked out, I approached my door and slowly opened it… and a white cat scampered in. I am ashamed to admit that I literally screamed like a little girl. The mysterious white cat skipped out on the formalities and fell asleep on my belly after I revisited my book… 6 hours later, we were rudely awoken by my noisy alarm. Apparently, while on sleeping pills I make a good mattress – the white cat had not moved a muscle since I apparently passed out while reading. The only souls awake, my new friend watched as I scarfed my breakfast before heading to the Tierra del Fuego National Park and finishing the day with a boat ride through the Beagle Channel.

Me and the Roomie

The Train to the End of the World

Furry seals and sea lions

The Beagle Channel

Spain, Canada Portugal and US represent!

Cusco & the Sacred Valley

The town of Cusco provided the bookends to our Machu Picchu adventure – staying 2 nights before and 1 night after. A beautiful city filled with illaborate Incan & Spanish architecture, lined with dozens of ornate churches. We spent our time eating delicious locale dishes, further learned the trepid Spanish/Incan coexistence (or co-nonexistence), and fended off persistent peddlers. On our first night in Cusco, we met my buddy Steve (who will be continuing our nonprofit work with NetHope, in Nairobi) for dinner. Steve ordered a local favorite, Cuyo, that is guinea pig. It looked kind of gross – Steve confirmed it was.
The next morning we took a day-long trip through the Sacred Valley, observing local ruins, landscapes and especially mercados (markets), which our guide (nowhere near as good as Juan Carlos) forced the group to spend the majority of the time… a frustrating experience for all.

Julia and I both agree that the city of Cusco is one of the most friendly, safe and hospitable cities we have ever spent time in (no offense BsAs). The trip did end on a sour note – on the last night Julia experienced her first encounter with food poisoning while I chokingly experienced my first vomit plunging exercise from our hostel sink. You know it is true love when you a willingly clean someone else’s barf.

Putucusi Mountain and Maccu Picchu

We arrived in Aguas Caliente, the hub for visitors of Maccu Picchu, after a 3 hour train ride from Cusco. After promptly checking in to our claustrophobically small room, Julia began exploring the hostel’s gardens and terraces, recognizing a large open room offering panoramic views of the river and surrounding Andes. She quickly asked for, and received, an upgrade to the superior suite.


We threw our stuff down and met our tour guide, Juan Carlos, for our climb up Mt. Putucusi. Julia noticed the striking resemblance of Putucusi to the mountains in NES Mario
She began the climb in lead position at an aggressive pace. However, the challenging inclines and lack of oxygen (~3000 meters, nearly 2 miles high) very quickly said “not so fast,” resulting in her quick digression into an angry, gasping-for-air, sweaty mess. Unwilling to accept defeat, we continued at a steadier pace while listening to Juan’s historical and geographical expertise of the surrounding Andean Jungle and the Incas that once inhabited them. The hike was unlike any other back home – it included vertical wooden ladders so high you could not see where they ended, narrow cliff-side paths that did not allow one misstep, and varied terrain including thick canopied jungle to desert-like formations. The 4 hour round trip offered beautiful views of the city below,
,
and our reason for coming, Machu Picchu.

The next day, we rose at the godforsaken hour of 4am to begin our ascent to Machu Picchu. As July is the high tourist season, nearly 4,000 global gringos make the trip to the park daily. But in this case, the early bird truly got the worm as we witnessed the sunrise break the Andean Mountain range and shed its light on the incredible ruins of Machu Picchu.
Alongside Juan, we learned about the sacred temples, religious rituals, and the tragic demise of the Inca Empire after Spanish colonization in South America. Most interesting to me, I feel the Inca provide a useful lesson in sustainability. The enormous Empire spanned the areas that are now Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and even some of Argentina. The Inca respected/worshipped the natural world around them and used it to create a vibrant society and sustainable economic system. However, after the Spanish invasion, the Incas fled their cities and temples to seek protection in the surrounding jungle. With them, they took their treasures, history and answers to the many questions spurred from what little scientist actually know.

“Free Falling" in the Iguazu Falls

To contrast the lyrics of the R&B group TLC… Do go chasing waterfalls. Located on the Argentina/Brazil border, the Iguazu Falls, a.k.a. Foz de Iguazu, are absolutely phenomenal.
2 years ago, during my near one year stint with Nortel Networks, Julia and I had the pleasure of spending a long weekend in and around the Toronto area. During our stay, we made a trip to the surrounding wine country (odd locale, but great wine), and the Niagara Falls. Niagara, the city, is a depressing Vegas wanna be. Niagra, the falls, are impressive, but are absolutely dwarfed to the size and natural beauty of Iguazu. In the words of late Eleanor Roosevelt upon first seeing Iguazu, “Poor Niagra!” Using some Starwood points, we were able to stay, for free, at the Sheraton, the only hotel located inside the national park boundary. Our room provided an eagle-eye view of the falls and surrounding jungle.

Giddy with excitement, we entered the park like two children entering Disney World for the first time. Starting at the first of three park segments, we saw the big daddy, el Garganta del Diablo.

The following two park segments were truly a feat of engineering. Mesh-steel bridges and concrete platforms snaked through the miles of waterfalls. Although my description of the materials (steel/concrete) used to build the pathways may seem invasive, everything blended perfectly with the environment, providing sometimes slippery close encounters with the falls,

and local wildlife,

Each fall was more spectacular than the next, this place is pure magic!