Ushuaia

I did not really sleep that well before my trip. One reason was due to the fact I never do before I need to travel, especially if my travel time is early. The other is that my place was located directly across the street from a tasca (dive bar) that kept the Chilean rock hits going all night. I gathered my things, said goodbye to the proprietress, and walked to the bus station. I waited in their nice lounge for a bit before I was shown my bus, showed them my ticket on my iPod, and found my seat.

It was a very interesting bus ride. Customs on both sides were OK. However, the route needed a ferry. So, all the passengers exited the bus and walked onto our ferry boat. We were then all placed into a little room with a view of the water. We set out and about 20 minutes later crossing the icy depths, we landed on the other side. The front of the boat plopped down like a Normandy landing craft, and there we all were in Argentina. Walking off the ship onto the gravel bank was very cool. The bus then pulled off, and we then boarded and continued along our journey.

This was some of the prettiest country I had ever seen. There were epic snowcapped mountains in the distance with incredibly dense forests. However, strewn across the highway were the corpses and skeletons of wayward alpacas. As we drove, I listened to the designer Debbie Miller’s podcast with Tim Ferriss and she was great. She said she offers an exercise to her students to design their ideal life: pick a date 10 years in the future and write a detailed journal entry. Write about where you live, what you do, what you wear, your relationships, etc. The more detail, the more likely it will occur. I started thinking about it, especially with my birthday coming up.

I arrived at the bus stop in Ushuaia. It was much like Dublin where they let you off on the main road. I had some idea where I was, but downtown, although much bigger and more modern than I was expecting, was still quaint and walkable. My hostel was right off the main commercial street, so it was easy to find. I checked in, and the young lady behind the counter definitely took a liking to me. She showed me my room. I asked her if she could recommend anywhere to go eat. She suggested a restaurant called El Viejo Marino (The Old Sailor.)

I walked back down to the street where the bus dropped me off, right next to the marina where all the ships left for Argentinian Antarctica. I made my way to a busy little restaurant that had a line out the door. I was able to be seated right away as I was one person. The lady asked if I wanted an English or Spanish menu. I told her Spanish, please. She then gave me a menu and having looked at the crustaceous monsters they had in their tanks, I made my decision. Ushuaia, like other places with incredibly cold waters, has varied forms of tasty sea life. The local brand is king crab, or in Spanish centolla. I ordered one already freed from its carapace and drowned in butter with Parmesan cheese with a glass of white wine. I sat at my table and listened to the varied languages of the people around me. I spotted English, German, French, and possibly Norwegian. I guess this was the hub for people wanting to go to Antarctica. My meal came and I could have not been happier with it. Although expensive, it was exactly what I was hoping for. I sipped my wine looking out at the water as my check came.

After dinner, I took a little walk around town and noticed that a bar was offering some new kind of Fernet. I headed in and had a shot of Brancamenta, a mint version of the famous drink. It was pretty good. After a long day, I headed up to my hostel and got ready for bed.

The next day started off slowly due to the fact that people were banging doors all night. Fell back asleep for a little bit, then got up and had some of the provided breakfast; dolce de leche and toast with some coffee or tea. I had a few little projects to do for a client, so I headed up to the little loft lounge area and did the best I could with less than stellar internet. Having to re-enter the same data 2-3 times was trying my patience. I got through it, got dressed, then headed out for lunch.

Lunch was at a steak house the likes of which I visited with Oren when I was in Buenos Aires. After some steak and some red wine, I went to the Ushuaia post office to mail off my friend’s hat. Coming out of the post office, I walked across the street to what appeared to be a very interesting museum.

The museum was called the Galería Temática – Historia Fueguina and honestly incredibly impressive. There was an air, kind of like the Museum of Natural History in New York, with large dioramas and life-like figures from history. Even Charles Darwin made an appearance. However, two parts really stuck out to me.

The first discussed our old friends, the Selk’nam. The Selk’nam as mentioned before was an aboriginal tribe that roamed the lands of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego thousands of years before the land was colonized. In fact, they are believed to be one of the last tribes on Earth to have encountered Europeans. One of the more austere aspects of their culture was the coming of age ceremony for their boys. To become the leaders of their extremely paternalistic tribe, they were ritualistically starved and were forbidden to sleep for days on end. The Hain ceremony culminated in the entry of these boys, one by one, into the Dark Hut (also called Hain;) a forbidden structure on the edge of the village.

Now, to the Selk’nam, there was no difference between the people and their religion. Their religion was comprised not necessarily of worship, but respect for their anthropomorphized deities. The most fearsome, Xalpen, and the key figure of the Hain, was a greedy, cannibalistic spirit that would devour any child foolish enough to try to enter the Hain before their time, or ever in case the child in question was female.

Raised since birth on these stories and warnings, imagine a boy, walking into this dark hut to face these ancient evils, alone. Inside, he found them. If he bested them, wrestling for his very life, he was shown that these spirits were nothing more than actors in costume and then welcomed to his rightfully earned place as a contributing member of his community. However, if he shared this knowledge with anyone, especially women, he and the person he told would be sacrificed. The knowledge each of these boys learned is this: the only evils in this world lurk in the darkness of man’s soul.

The second part regarding the museum was very important and interesting. Like Australia, this remote part of Argentina served as a prison without walls. Due to the harsh climate, escape was all but impossible. The worst of the worst of the country were sent here to log and generally “settle” the area through hard labor. However, for some reason, the museum chose to focus on one prisoner. His name was Cayetano Santos Godino. He was a serial killer of children, killing four and trying to kill several others in Buenos Aires in the early part of the 20th Century. His lifeless likeness staring out at me from behind those bars all but confirmed what I had read on the placard. However, his uncontrollable urges to kill and maim continued while he was serving out his soon-to-be short life sentence. You see, Godino, well-practiced in the arts of dispatching animals, decided to do the same to a very popular prison cat. His fellow inmates did not take too kindly to that, and in 1944 he died under suspicious circumstances.

After leaving the museum, I walked around the city, finding my way to a general store at the end of the commerce road; like an Argentine Walmart. They had everything. Half grocery store and half department store, this is where the people of Ushuaia came to get what they needed.

After the store, I headed back toward the water and noticed a cemetery. I went in. Walking around the many graves, it reminded me of the Recoleta cemetery in Buenos Aires. Lost in thought, I saw a grave and automatically knew the face. It was of the same big-eared child-killing cat murderer I saw at the museum starting back at me with his lifeless eyes.  I had inadvertently found the grave of Godino. It was very spooky.

I headed back towards the waterfront and came across a little park dedicated to the veterans of the Malvinas campaign. I kept walking down a little peninsula as I saw a whole bunch of people out enjoying the weather. I kept walking around a path on a dirt road and followed a bunch of people to a grassy hill overlooking the city. There were boys and girls, men and women playing soccer or just laying about. There was barbed wire on some of the fields but no one really seemed to care. So I kept walking and saw there was a little neighborhood. I started walking down a little path when an large, dark SUV dove past me and parked. Two uniformed and armed Marines got out and walked over to me. They asked me what I was doing. I said I was just going for a walk. They informed me that I was trespassing on an Argentine military base and that if I did not find my way back to town immediately, I would be arrested. When one said this, the other put his hand on his gun. I lifted my hands, apologized, and pointed to the road behind me asking if this was the way back to town. One noded. So I thank them graciously, slowly backing up with my hands in the air, slowly turning around, and with my hands still up, briskly walked back to the main road.

After an international incident like this, it was time for a beer. I headed to a real staple of Ushuaia called Ramos General. Much like in the American West, general stores served as hubs for the frontier. You could get all the goods you needed, arrange transportation, but of course, have a drink and a meal. It was like stepping back in time. And the food and beer were pretty good. After an exciting day, I headed back to the hostel. I affixed my earplugs as best I could, although the concussive blast of the door opening and closing was a big problem all night.

The next day I woke up and started it with some client work after breakfast. I then went to the End of the World museum. Really, the only cool thing about it was the fact that it housed the room where the congress of Tierra del Fuego won its provincial status. After the museum, I headed back to the El Viejo Marino for lunch and then went back to the hostel for a nap.

I then set out to walk the street over to the entrance of town, the one I passed on the bus ride in. It was a pretty different world. There was a Mercedes dealer and a pretty big mall for such a small town that had a beautiful observation deck of the bay. I didn’t realize it was celebrated here, but kids were walking around in Halloween costumes which were very cute.

I walked back to town, making sure to stop at the grocery store to buy supplies for a tour I had booked the next day. When I got back to the room, I noticed that my iPod charging cable was missing. Either I misplace it, or someone adopted it, but my device was running on fumes. I walked down to an electronics store to see what I could find. Since I was at the end of the world and had few options, I paid the equivalent of $45 for a charging cable. Oh well, it was to be a problem for later Greg. I went back to my room again, charged all my stuff, then went to bed. I would be making a whole bunch of new friends in the morning.

Again, I did not sleep that well due to a multitude of issues, but got up and took care of business. I had some breakfast, got my stuff in order, and headed down to the pier. I checked in with a very cute young lady as I waited to board our boat. All the people had to walk three planks to get to where the boat was moored, but it was OK. I found a seat on the starboard side of the boat at a window as we waited to launch.

This was to be a wildlife tour. We passed first the island of Cormorants, then an island covered in seals, as well as passing the famous Lighthouse at the End of the World.

This was all on our way to Haberton Farm, a small outpost and a jump-off point for the next part of the tour. Since I was in the first group, we launched from a Zodiac and about 10 minutes later, we were disembarked on a pebble beach and we were in the middle of a colony of penguins. Honestly, the ratio was about three penguins to every one person. I always liked penguins, probably going back to my 1st Grade book report on Mr. Popper’s, but I had only seen them from behind glass enclosures.

These were right in front of us and they did not seem to mind that we were all casually dressed for the occasion. While most of them were of the smaller variety, there was one very confused-looking Imperial Penguin towering over the rest. We were allowed to walk on designated footpaths over the island to see their different nesting areas, but the biggest and best was a circular rookery. It was pretty amazing. However, it kind of encapsulated our shared natures. To protect their eggs, the penguins would build shelters for them in various ways, normally by collecting stones and sticks from the nearby brush and beach. However, one penguin thought he was too good for that. This little communist would go to the nests that were momentarily poorly guarded and take a stick or a stone for its own nest. When the penguin witnessed the theft, they went and chased the usurper, usually slapping it with the closest flipper. Did violence deter the thief? No, it did not. It just went to the next nest and did the same. This penguin was the Snot Boogey of the group and was inclined toward danger.

After marching with the penguins, we boarded our boats and headed back to the farm for lunch. Sadly, I was kicked out of the only available shelter that was their restaurant as I brought my own food. I had to sit outside in the cold but did not mind that much as the view was spectacular. After lunch and the other group’s arrival, we headed to a local museum that talked about a lot of the marine life of Tierra del Fuego. They had various whale skeletons which was pretty cool.

Our boating day was done, so we piled into a bus to make our trip back to town. We stopped in a few brutally beautiful places along the way in a national park. I say brutal because some of the trees that had been growing for decades appeared to be blown by fierce cold winds into shapes I had never seen. As we walked, our guide informed us of quite a peculiar instance of inviting invading species.

In the 1940s, Argentina wanted to profit from the recent consumer boom after World War II, so they decided they were going to use their ample land in Tierra del Fuego to import a new type of quarry, Canadian beavers. Since this was before mainstream environmental sciences, they did not understand the ecological damage that inviting a non-native species without any natural predators to this virgin territory would cause. As the story goes, they brought four male and four female beavers and let them go. Officially, today, the count is there are about 200,000 beavers going wild in Ushuaia, although unofficially, it is more like 500,000 and they are causing some big problems. However, during the same time, Louisiana got a similar idea of importing a large south American rodent to the United States known as nutria with the same reason, time frame, and lack of environmental understanding as Argentina imported beavers. These 25-pound rats got free of their enclosures and are now hunted at night by the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office as they burrow and destroy the incredibly important canals protecting parts of the city of New Orleans. On the bus ride, I pondered if some French Canadians called up their Cajun cousins in the 1940s and asked in French if they would like to be part of a deal to trade beavers for rats.

We arrived back in the city a short time later. Having been a long day, I headed to an Irish pub called Dublin. It was a nice little place and much like down at the El Marino Viejo, all different languages were spoken. After chatting with the bartender for three beers, I headed back to the hostel. I had another beer there and finished my Fernet. I used the restroom and when I came back, the lounge was closed. I tried moving into the kitchen and was kicked out of there. I tried to take a shower and was kicked out of the bathroom. Needless to say, I began writing a scathing review of this place in my head.

My final day in Ushuaia started late. I had some breakfast and then did some work. I was still tired, so I went up to the lounge area and tried to zone out for a little bit. I headed down to General Ramos for some lunch, then walked around the city some more. Unbeknownst to me, I was heading towards their airport when I found a nice little private beach overlooking the water and the mountains. It was very nice to see some untouched nature. There were a lot of rocks with mussels attached to them keeping true to what the museum said about the high protein diet of the Selk’Nam people. While the beach was quaint and there were no signs saying otherwise, it felt like I was trespassing, so I skedaddled; only one international incident per city! I went back to the hostel, checked my mail and a few other things, and postulated what I would be doing for the rest of my journey. I finished my last day enjoying centolla at the El Marino Viejo after walking through the Usuhuaia Artisanal Market.