george-sykes86
Team Sykes on tour
Harriet and George take on South America
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Alternative landscapes
The next stint of our journey saw us venture north to the top of Chile and then eventually over the border into Bolivia. These two weeks would take us high into the Atacama dessert and then its close neighbour the Uyuni Salt flats.
After arriving of the 24 hour bus to San Pedro completely drenched in sweat it was time for a serious shower followed by the first Pizza we had found in South America which wasn’t just a mound of terrible cheese. Suitably fed and watered Ilene decided to retire to bed confident of a productive day to follow.
As planned it was straight to town after breakfast and in a futile effort to save a few pounds we visited every agency on the strip until eventually going for one with the most helpful advisor. Seduced by her pitch we booked ourselves onto enough day trips to fill the days until we would disappear off to Bolivia.
The next few days did not disappoint we were treated to Lunar landscapes, Martian vistas, volcanoes, glassy Laguna peppered with flamingos, blood red rocks and rainbow coloured hills. It was a geologists dream and certainly not how I imagined a desert to be. After 4 days of baking ourselves in the desert sun we even managed to witness the rare event of a thunder storm. Dramatic as it was it was nothing compared to the pictures we had seen of an earlier storm where bystanders had there hair standing on end from the static. It is hard to explain the time in San Pedro with its small town charm and incredible surroundings but I would highly recommend everyone visit it once in there lives. After a fantastic 5 days it was time to pack up and head out. Loaded into a minibus we headed out for the border. It is safe to say border control in Bolivia is not quite the same as the UK. After checking in at a small building in the middle of no where we were packed into ancient 4x4s and the adventure began. The three day trip kept us at 4000m for the first two days and although we didn't have to walk far we sounded like 90 years olds with a smoking problem. Luckily both Harriet and I survived without much in the way of altitude sickness but one Canadian in our group was very much worse for wear despite the heavy doses of cocoa leaves. The trip was like a highlights tour of incredible lagunas surrounded by snow capped volcanoes, huge expanses of sand with dramatic rock formations and the occasional bit of animal life. In the evenings we were treated to some traditional Bolivian food, very potato heavy, and the opportunity to learn an exciting Dutch card game that quickly became a big hit. The accommodation though basic certainly exceeds expectations and the second night in the guest house made of salt was certainly different. Despite all this nothing would prepare us for the final day. Having had to push start the 4x4 on the penultimate day our driver worked through the night to repair the starter motor. Eventually at 4am we appeared ready to head out for sun rise. As the sun came up we rolled off the road and onto the famous Salar de Uyuni , the worlds largest salt flat. Due to an unusually wet month it was coated in about 2 inches of water which meant it perfectly reflected the sky to give the impression you were floating in an endless sky. This was the most incredible view I have ever seen which is saying something after the sights of the last week. After breakfast on the flats we headed out cruising across the expanse of white until eventually we reached Uyuni the first civilisation for a while. Everyone seemed exhausted probably by the early start and the barrage of sights. Luckily all we had to do was collapse onto another bus and head out for the next location Potosi.
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Funiculi funicular
This should only be a short update focussing on our 2 days in Valparaiso. The city acts as the main port for Santiago and is set on a steep hill leading down to the water s edge where a large dock houses cruise ships, container ships and a large part of the Chilean Navy. What once was an extremely wealthy area used to servicing the many ships stopping on their way from passing through the straights of Magellan to the west coast of the US or other Pacific destinations is now suffering from a serious depletion of wealth thanks to the opening of the Panama Canal. Out of this change in fortune has come a charming juxtaposition of grand buildings, charming colourful streets and elaborate protest street art. The main action for the 2 days were walking tours of the area both guided and unguided. Getting around either requires dicing with death in one of the local buses or taking one of many funicular railways. A change in pace that was most welcome and Valparaiso was well worth a visit. Next it was a long and incredibly hot bus journey up to San Pedro and the Atacama desert.
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When 2 became 3
It was now time for the arrival of a Mr Patrick Hunt. Our ranks would be bolstered for the next 2 weeks in which would see us venture out of the wilderness and into the more populous locations of Bariloche, Mendoza and Santiago.
Fresh from our 24 hour bus journey we fell through the door of our apartment to find Paddy had already done the evening shop and had beers on ice for us. What a man! Desperate to shake of the the journey we showered and changed and headed out into town to explore the nightlife which proved to be excellent. One street in particular owns closed off to cars after 8pm and as the bars opened temporary stages housed local bands.
With only a short amount of time to take in the enormous lakeside town and the surrounding national parks we quickly booked ourselves onto a raft of activities.
Day 1 took us to a stunning lake in search of kayaks. After serif up camp Harriet set off in the direction of the only kayaks visible only to return dejected having failed to use her feminine charms to persuade the hotels resident kayak specialist to part with his prized possessions for an hour. After a bit more sun we set off on a walk around the lake to see some waterfalls marked on the map. At the end of the path we were faced by a dilemma. Two signs, one pointing to the falls the others saying kayaks. I am sure you can guess which won. Day 1 also featured a major highlight. Steak night. Finally we found a restaurant in Argentina that sold us mountains of meat with incredible wine for an outstanding price. Smiles all round! Day 2 featured a ferry trip on the main lake to the last remaining myrtle forest and the beautiful Victoria island. The scenery was spectacular and the day was only tainted by the presence of other people. It started on the ferry with a procession preferring to ignore their amazing surroundings and instead desperately battling each other to get a photo of a seagull eating a cracker out of their hands. This resulted in a lot of rubbish photos, a few painful fingers and my bag being covered in seagull poo. Next up was the myrtle forest and amongst the amazing orange trees were hoards of Asian tourists taking awful selfies. Harriet quickly lost patience and most of the tourists were lucky not to be thrown over the edge of the walkways as she stormed through. Finally we reached Victoria island with our strategy now well defined. Go in the opposite direction to the crowd. With the majority of people flooding to the only restaurant on the island we headed to the beach with its wooden jetty perfect for a bit of tomfoolery. Finding it deserted we set about absorbing as much sun as possible and honing our synchronised diving and bombing skills. By the time the crowds descended upon us we had had our full and headed off to explore the rest of the island in peace. On day 3 it was time to inject some exercise into the week to counteract the steak and wine. This came in the form a 35km hilly cycle around the circuit Chico in the national park. Before setting off we were instructed to take the bikes for a ride to make sure everything was in order. Suitably satisfied and decked out in high via jackets we set off down the road. At the foot of the first steep hill a quick lesson in using gears was quickly dismissed by Harriet who declared her legs were made for cycling. Sadly her attention to detail when checking the bike initially was not up to the same level and although she was able to generate as much power as lance armstrong in his prime a 30% incline without the bottom cog on the front proved her undoing and also almost the undoing of our relationship. After a quick call to the shop a replacement was delivered and things went much more smoothly after that. Beautiful views, some fine cycling and all topped off with a trip to the Patagonia brewery where craft beers were enjoyed in one of the best located bars on the continent. That was pretty much it for Bariloche as after a day washed out with heavy storms it was off again in the bus for another 20 hours up to Mendoza Being the main wine producing region in Argentina we always knew what would take centre stage in Mendoza. During our 5 days there most of the activities either focussed on wine or involved drinking plenty of it. We tried our hand at being proper gauchos with a sunset horse ride in the hills followed by a BBQ and bottomless wine from the vineyard. Despite only booking the activity in the afternoon the sunset was sadly obscured by thick cloud to then unhelpfully be informed by our guide that Mendoza only has 60 days of cloud a year. We managed to pick two of them for our stay. This was a mere speed bump though and we had an excellent evening which finished with a sing along to some classic Argentinian folk songs such as Wonderwall by Oasis. Having not had enough of the bikes in Bariloche we decided to hit the road again but this time at a more sedate pace as we trundled between vineyards to sample the local produce. Harriet was the only casualty of the day not partaking of the final vineyards bounty citing too much sun as the cause. I am prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt on this occasion. Wanting to take it up a notch we took to the waters with a morning of white water rafting followed by paddle boarding in the near by lake. The rafting started as a pleasant wholesome activity but as soon as the white water began to crash over the boat it became a fierce competition between the two boats culminating in the guide for the other boat being pulled into the river after a sneak attack. The paddle boarding was conducted at a slower pace but Harriet was able to demonstrate an unexpected proficiency for the sport. Added to this smorgasbord of excursions was the main reason we were in Mendoza on those particular dates. The annual harvest festival was not to be missed. The streets, lined with outdoor restaurants were treated to an enormous parade with each region having it own float to showcase ta local produce and more importantly its queen. This unexpected extra turned out to be a glorified beauty pageant with one region taking home the bragging rights. Having been warned that the floats often involved the throwing of gifts into the crowd and that concussions were not uncommon, I had my first taste when I was hit between the eyes by a piece of fruit. Luckily only a grape. Bigger items were to follow but I had my wits about me by then. One the floats had passed we were treated to matching bands and some extremely overdressed dance troops. The working theory is that the dancing is some sort of local weight loss initiative as we were passed by wave after wave of thickset Argentinians dressed head to toe in what can only be described as a mix of costume between a flamenco dancer and a Spanish matador. Combine his with 30 degree heat and the pained expressions on their faces said it all. Having seen all this we should not have been surprised when the grand finale, a huge ceremony in the towns amphitheatre, was postponed by a day. The reason given was that there was political problems leading to payment of the dancers. In think the more likely reason is most of the cast were on an IV drip after their earlier exertions. This could have put a damper of the end of the visit but we instead substituted t with a trip to the world famous 1884 restaurant by Argentinian hero Frances Malmann for some excellent steak and wine. Thankfully the next leg of the journey was to Santiago which was a mere 6 hour bus journey over the Andes. This could quite possibly be the most spectacular bus trip on the planet. Santiago was just a short stop to see the major sites but we were all impressed by its understated charm and haphazard layout as a result of the seismic activity that it suffers from. After a couple of days of gentle sightseeing we crowned our two weeks with Paddy with a few drinks. As it turns out the local favourite, a Pisco Sour, slips down nice and easily. I am sure there will be a few more to be had, particularly as both Peru and Chile claim to be the inventors so t would only be fair to try both. 2 weeks has whistled by and we said our goodbyes before jumping into desperate taxis. Paddy headed for the airport to catch his flight home and we set off for the bus station, next stop the port town of Valparaiso.
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A farewell to Patagonia
Week 3 was once again packed with new towns, amazing scenery and plenty of walking. The frantic pace with which we were covering the vast Patagonian landscape was only countered by the incredible calm and peacefulness.
After saying goodbye to the penguins we headed back North and in the space of the next 8 days we would cover the towns of El Calafate, El Chalten and then head off on our first long distance (22 hour) bus journey from which I started writing this blog entry.
Having briefly passed through El Calafate on the way into Patagonia, we had already had a first impression of the town with its apres-ski vibe, quiet streets and vast, barren landscapes. This however was not the El Calafate that we returned to. The town, in the midst of a local festival, was filled to the brim with tourists and locals alike. We were booked into a fantastic hostel with an incredible panoramic view of the hills and lakes. After unloading our bags and washing away the remains of a long journey we were thankful to be able to partake of the hostels BBQ and salad bar, the latter of which had been in short supply on the trip to date. Spurning the thought of an early night we headed out into Calafate to assess the situation of the festival. Housed in the towns amphitheatre, which seemed slightly superfluous for somewhere like Calafate we were treated to a packed arena all being entertained with celebrity hosts, fashion shows and a local band who, with their leather trousers and sequinned dinner jackets, were doing an excellent job of bringing the 90s europop genre to southern Argentina.
Despite this unexpected treat we were in Calafate for one reason only and that was to see the Perito-Moreno glacier. It did not disappoint! As we came round the corner in the bus the landscape opened up and revealed the ice wall. Having previously be told it could bring a man to tears I was adamant that mine would not be coaxed out but it was still a spectacular sight. The activities for the day involved enjoying the sight from the man made boardwalks in the opposite mountain side followed by a boat trip to the glacier where we disembarked for the ice walk. Crampons fitted, we set off like Scott of the Antarctic summoning icy hills and traversing crevasses. There was the customary photo with the guides ice axe and finally we got to the bit Harriet had been waiting for. Whisky on the glacier with glacial ice. It was an excellent day. Next on the schedule was El Chalten a small but charming town for adventure enthusiasts. The streets were lined in bars and hostels and the town was set in a glacial valley surrounded by the mountains. With Harriet's ankle still causing trouble the prospect of more trekking was probably a bit daunting but she strapped on her trainers and, for the next few days, gamely took on the challenge of the iconic Patagonian peaks. We planned our treks so that we could do the most famous climb on the best day and we didn't regret it. After a few hours walking the final km took us up a steep climb to the base of mount Fitzroy. After a few expletives from Harriet when she turned a corner and had been duped by the nemesis of all mountain climbers, the false peak, we eventually reached the top. It was a view to rival the glacier. Huge peaks surrounding a blue glacial lake which proved a great spot for a bit of sunbathing and lunch. Despite the height the sun was hot enough and the lake sheltered enough that I decided to go for a dip. Let's just say it was refreshing! All that is left to say is that the experience of the 24 hour bus was an interesting one. Travelling in the equivalent of premium economy class we found the first 15 hours manageable despite the lack of nutrition in the on-board meals. The final 9 hours was a bit much. Thinking we had picked the best seats at the front of the bus on the top floor, which provided an exceptional view when driving at night, we had not factored in the effects of solar gain once the sun came up. We may we'll reconsider our seat position on the next long distance bus.
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Weird towns, camping and lots of penguins
This next instalment comes after a week which has been filled with action. Despite only having been away for two weeks it feels like we have already crammed in a months worth of activities and the prospect of getting up and going to work is a distant memory. The crossing into Patagonia 'proper' to Puerto Natales was impressionable. The bus stopped at the immigration point on the border to have bags searched etc. Leaving the warm comforts of the bus, we stepped out into blustering gales, rain, rather bleak seemingly endless baron landscape and a portacabin. At this point I did think.. why on earth did we leave the warm cultural splendours of Buenos Aires and central Argentina?! This thought was further emphasised when we arrived in Puerto Natales (still pouring).Probably the strangest place I've ever been... Imagine if you will a cross between a ski chalet village and a tin shantytown and that's sort of what this place looked like, and at this time of the day deserted. However, waking the next morning we were greeted with something relatively rare in Patagonia- SUNSHINE. Suddenly, this odd place seemed somewhat charming and we were ready to set on our quest to try and find a way of entering the nearby national park, whose complicated booking system made it like Fort Knox of Chile. With all the campsites full and the town filled with disconsolate visitors desperate for even one night in the park we didn’t hold out much hope. After visiting the main park office it was looking like our only options were to either pay for a couple of nights in hostels in the park at the price of a central London hotel or alternatively chance our arm and head into the park and hope the rangers took pity on us and allowed us to stay in the free campsites. As we sat in the office of Fantastico Sur, the company with the only remaining availability, desperately trying to piece together some sort of a trip and our wallets groaning in our pockets the door swung open and two Brazilian angels entered. In this brilliant bit of serendipity they had two nights camping to sell, which aligned perfectly with some other availability meaning we were going to be able to get 4 nights in the park. It’s safe to say we almost bit their hand off for the bookings. With bookings stowed away it was off to the supermarket to buy provisions then to the outdoor shop to rent some fairly ancient camping gear. We were feeling pretty smug at this point and filled with enthusiasm for what the next 5 days had in store for us. Despite a few delays getting across to the starting line, we made quick progress through to the first checkpoint and were feeling confident of being at our camp well ahead of schedule. Then the trail got steep, the footing became rocky and the wind picked up. Progress was slow! It was during this last stint that my lack of aerodynamic form led to a gust blowing me across the rocks and unfortunately her ankle took the brunt of the incident. We eventually hobbled into camp with the rain coming down and the wind howling only to be lead past the lovely sheltered woodland camp spots to our pitch for the night, a wooden platform set out in the open with full exposure to the elements and whose only redeeming feature was it’s proximity to the toilets. The tent went up quickly and we piled into the dining area of the Refugio to be treated to a delicious three course meal of log life food which even featured an old favourite, Angel delight. That was as good as the evening got. George's well honed ability to sleep served him well but I had a night to forget. With the wind gusting still gusting at 70mph and the rain coming down heavily, conditions in the tent were tense. Every few minutes you could hear the wind building from high in the valley and the noise grew louder and louder like a oncoming stampede. Then it would hit! The tent, staked down and covered in boulders to hold it down, was rattled from side to side and the wooden platform shuddered beneath our matts. A 4am call of nature was like going over the top at the Somme. Well rested and suitably smug, George woke to find me white as a sheet, huddled in every item of clothing I brought, mumbling discontent. Ah well at least it was breakfast time!! Day two was an absolute triumph- fantastic lakeside views all day, minimal aches and we strode into a fantastic campsite where the tent fairies had already set up our abode ahead of arrival. This was topped off by a warm shower- a very welcome surprise after the previous nights experience where one had to dangle each limb in the shower for a few seconds at a time to survive the glacial waters. Day three; smugness gone. Awoke with ankle feeling like someone had taken a hammer to it. The first part of the morning was a very steep scramble up uneven paths and giant boulders. OWW- enough said.All discontent was forgot when we landed at the Mirador del Torres, breathtakingly beautiful! after a night of storms we arrived to see the highlight of the park and its glistening turquoise waters in perfect sunshine. WOW- just so beautiful, 8 understand why it is considered the highlight of Chile, captured on the notes. If only we didn't have another 25km to conquer before the next campsite...! Moods varied so much that in the morning I would be discussing how much I'd like us to get our own high-end kit, and even suggesting a summer camping jaunt to WALES (a moment of weakness surely), by the afternoon the tone would be more along the lines of 'george this is a one time thing, OK?!?!' Towards the end of the day as legs and back ached, my mothers childhood nickname 'firey harriet' came into its own. Luckily george had enough provisions stowed away that he was able to cure my low blood sugar levels (otherwise known as bad mood spikes) by feeding me snacks to promptly restore my enthusiasm- like a cart horse being fed polos to retain momentum. Now, if you're thinking it was just me, while George strode around the park with glee,. think again. Even Sykes was coining phrases such as 'I think I will cry when we finally get to the campsite' and reformed the lyrics to Queens don't stop me now, 'having a shit time, having a shit time..' which I could here him belting behind me. However, our home for the night was delightful and soon all wrongs were put to right. Perfect evening sunshine, and a sheltered spot for our tent- back to my 'I love camping, let's buy that tent!'. I was unable to walk the following day so George embarked on an adventure round the backside of the mountains en solo (probably relieved to ditch his counterpart, now affectionately referred to as 'the snail'). I had a wonderful morning in the sunshine, reading and bonding with the local staff who I sat with playing his flute he'd created out of a plastic pipe. On Georges return we treated ourselves for a valentines meal of canned tuna and crackers, then playing 'who can keep there feet in the glacial river longer'. I won :) After another OK nights sleep we trudged the 4hours trek back to the bus- and eventually made it back to the luxury of indoors, delicious un-packeted food and most importantly a BED; my old friend. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Reflecting on our time in Torres del Paine, we both say how incredible it was- insane natural beauty around every corner, and a catalogue of picture postcard photos; not to mention the sense of achievement on completing a challenging 5days hiking- totally out of our comfort zones. However, Probably best we didn't write this blog while we were walking or the language may have trouble into the slightly more vulgar. It was an experience I'll never forget and I truly thoroughly enjoyed, but next year it'll be a spa break for Valentine's Day George! On arriving further south in the large industrial town of Punta Arenas, the weird streets of Puerto Natales started to seem like a fairytale picturesque town. THIS was bleak. Maybe it was the constant rain but this is was not a charming place. On our first day, after listening to the hostel staff whinge about how much they hated the town we decided to brace the elements and check out the top sites which turned out to be a graffitied statue and a shipwreck which we got half way to and then turned back. Luckily we weren’t there for the sites but instead to catch a boat to Isla Magdalena home of 120,000 Magellenic penguins. Patagonia; the most beautiful landscapes we've ever seen, the most uninspiring architecture. But the region keeps growing on me.. I'm sure I'll be back one day.
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Buenos Aires
We are now coming to the end of our week in Buenos Aires and Harriet tells me it is time to write something a bit more substantial. As an Engineer who has barely constructed a full sentence in the last 10 years I feel this a little out of my comfort zone. Anyway here goes, but if poor grammar and the vocabulary of a 10 year old causes you to come out in a rash then I suggest you stick to the picture updates.
This week we have walked so far that Harriet appears to have some sort of trench foot, each suffered embarrassing sun burns and I have been taken down by man flu, not to mention the brush with death when Harriet followed her instincts rather than the map and led us into the centre of one of Buenos Aires main slums, but all things considered it has been a great week. Buenos Aires has treated us to some beautiful weather and some spectacular views. In an attempt to see everything we have generally had to structure the day with a big breakfast and then out on foot to explore the sights. There has been no end of interesting locations to visit. The colourful buildings of La Boca provide the quintessential Latin American vista, the sprawling San Telmo market with its stalls and musicians offered a refreshing market experience where strangely not one person asked us to buy something and then there was Recoletta with its ornate cemetery, art museums and urban landscapes. Usually by mid afternoon with our feet screaming at us it is time to rest up in one of the stunning parks, my preference would be the one with the flower statue although this was ground zero for a major sunburn. Late afternoon usually sees us return to the Chillhouse which has very much lived up to its name despite the American accents on display from other travellers. Our evening activities may come as a surprise to you as we probably haven't made the most of Buenos Aires' buzzing nightlife. We set out with great intentions of steak dinners, bars and tango clubs but have so far fallen some way short. We do however have one night left to remedy this! At this point I think it is sensible to have a side bar about the cost of living in Argentina. It has come as a shock to both Harriet and I that Buenos Aires is on a par with London in terms of cost. Talking to the hostel owners, they have said that the unstable currency has meant that the last couple of years have seen prices skyrocket and it has meant that tourism has really stagnated. Add that to excessive charges for tourists at ATMs and it makes going out quite pricey. Anyone thinking about coming to Argentina should make sure they check the economic situation first. Even talking to your friend who went a year ago can give you a false impression of the situation. Having said all that, it has not held us back but we have just had to dine in a way that befits a traveller on a 4 month trip rather than a two week holiday. We have been to some great bars, one in particular made a lovely hummus to Harriet's delight. We sadly missed out on the famous Bomba del Tiempo percussion show which is a massive party each Monday night. We managed to make it almost to the front of the queue before the more cunning locals cut in at the last minute and captured the final places. We were not the only ones who missed out though. Amidst all the action of the city we have managed to squeeze in a couple of day trips. The first saw us brave the Argentinian public transport network as we took a bus, then a train and finally a river taxi to explore the town of Tigres and the surrounding islands in the river delta. Neither Harriet nor myself could quite work out how we felt about this place which offered lovely riverside views, quiet green islands with campsites and hippie communes but also a theme park and playboys on jet skis. The second day trip took us on the ferry to the town of Colonia in Uruguay. This old Portuguese port town is now a Unesco world heritage sight and its quiet streets lead you between old landmarks and quaint bars and restaurants. Surprisingly I found this to be the best medicine for my infirm body and managed to grab the odd nap in a park while Harriet was off stockpiling photos for an impending Instagram binge. I will leave you now as we prepare to pack up and head off to Patagonia. Buenos Aires has been a great host and certainly somewhere I would consider living. The Spanish is coming along nicely as are the sun tans. We hope our lack of reservations in Patagonia don't result in disappointment but stay tuned to find out in a weeks time. Adios amigos
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