Day 6

Thursday, March 9, 2023 - El Calafate

A travel day. Estefani is picking me up at 7:30 to catch a 9:40 flight to Buenos Aires and after a 3-hour layover (finally, I won't have to run through the Buenos Aires airport to catch a plane!) I take off for El Calafate, landing about 6:30 this evening.

My eyes were still feeling irritated and were looking red. I just attributed it to the accumulation of poorer than usual sleep when traveling.

I realized there was a flaw in my planning as it was my intention to cruise Lago Argentino on Friday but I hadn't made any reservations for getting on a boat. It seemed most of them sailed at 7am so very little time to get to the docks and no guarantee there'd be availability. I'll rely on the hotel clerk, or taxi driver, to see if something can be arranged tonight. I'm not relishing the thought of spending the day on planes and in airports but it'll be great to get out of the heat.

The plane landed in Buenos Aires, right on time. I took a chance and flew FlyBondi this time, Argentina's no-frills carrier and it was pretty good. 

The flight attendants brought the drink and snack cart through the cabin but no one bought anything that I could see, after all, it's less than a 2-hour flight. I snuck around their baggage fees (only one carry-on item less than 6 kilograms is allowed without incurring charges - and neither of mine complied) by just going directly to the gate. It was one of those situations where it was better to ask forgiveness instead of asking permission and no one challenged me when I presented my boarding pass at the gate.

I booked the ticket through JustFly.com, a ticketing agent I'd not heard of before, so I took a chance with them as well. But again, I was very pleased - they even checked in for me which was totally unexpected and freed me up to do things other than watch the time yesterday to be one of the early check-ins for less hassle. I'll use them again as their prices were the best.

The third chance I took was that this was an unconnected flight. If the flight experienced a significant delay or was canceled I could have had a problem getting to El Calafate, but everything worked out fine this time.

I'm kind of out of the heat. It's in the 80s in Buenos Aires but, unlike those who checked bags, I never had to leave the Gates concourse so I stayed where it was cool. And for the first time in Buenos Aires, I didn't have to run through the airport to catch a flight. It's a good day.

I went to the restroom and I noticed my eyes were getting very red. That was my first sign that something was wrong. I also noticed that my eyes were tearing up quite a bit and would sometimes weep liquid.  Not normal. And of all the remedies I had in my med kit, eye drops were omitted. I'll just find a pharmacy in El Calafate after settling in.

I slept most of the flight as there was cloud cover and no sights to see.  Keeping my eyes closed might help them anyway, although whenever I woke I had to wipe my eyes and cheeks. The plane landed without incident and I opted for a bus to the hotel instead of a taxi.  It took a little longer but I enjoyed the free town tour as the driver unloaded people at their respective lodgings.  Mine was the last.

El Calafate is named after a local desert shrub that has yellow flowers in spring and sweet, blue berries in the fall. It was a sheltering place for wool traders in the early 20th century and was eventually incorporated in 1927 when Argentina was promoting growth in its more rural areas. But even after the creation of the Perito Moreno National Park in 1937 its population grew slowly. Going into the 21st century it was still only a little over 6,000.

As the national park, now called the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, and its notoriety grew, so did the town. It became the staging point for tours of the glaciers, mountains, lakes and forests in this part of Patagonia - even though the park is over 60 kilometers away. Today, the population fluctuates with the season and it peaks at 30,000 during the summer. 

There is no predominant architecture in El Calafate, it's an eclectic mix of buildings dating back to the town's early days adjacent to newer buildings, mostly smaller hotels and restaurants, to cater to the more affluent travelers.  There is one main road that runs through the center of town and virtually all the commerce that takes place in El Calafate occurs along that street. 

The main street is also a haven for the dogs of El Calafate. In fact, all the streets are havens for the dogs of El Calafate. They are everywhere, they are well-behaved, and even though they are all mixed breeds, their lineage here goes back to when the sheep outnumbered the people. They do not travel in packs, they do not harass people (although they'll sometimes challenge vehicles, perhaps trying to herd them), and several just find a nice cozy spot to snooze.

I was surprised at the distance from the airport to the town center and at the general roughness of El Calafate. After driving for 45 minutes through barren landscape very similar to what you would see in many parts of southern Arizona, buildings came into view - some habitable, some not, some in between.  And, once in town, we were traveling on a lot of dirt roads, well, not dirt exactly, it was glacial moraine - the rocks, silt, and rock flour deposited by glacial forces.

Thursday, March 9, 2023 - Koi Mahik

The bus deposited me in front of Hotel Koi Mahik, a solid concrete building that overlooks Lago Argentino, the largest and deepest lake (maximum width - 20 miles, maximum depth - over 1600 feet) in the country. Pablo, who I presumed to be the owner, greeted me at the front desk. Pablo was super friendly and helpful,  His 4-year old daughter was “helping” him at the reception area.  Clearly, this was a family operation.  He explained the pricing options - one price for credit card, one for pesos, one for dollars - which I’m learning are the standard options on bigger ticket items.  I was worried about running low on cash so I had to take the more expensive option, but that also earned me a 21% discount (taxes waived) as allowed by the federal government. 

After checking in, I still needed to arrange my tour for the next day and I asked Pablo about the best way of doing that. He was well prepared to answer and confirmed my research that the top three experiences are, in order of significance, Perito Moreno Glacier, the Spegazzini and Upsala Glaciers, and El Chaltén - the trekking capital of Argentina. He said it was best to visit the tour operators directly who all have shops along the main street with knowledgeable, multilingual staff. He added though that because they are all closed now, it was after 8:00 by the time, I needed to do it online.

A worthwhile pause is in order here to comment about information and communication. Pablo was knowledgeable and had great information for me. He took the time to make sure I understood, often having to repeat or restructure what he was saying because his English was about as good (or bad) as my Spanish. The resulting interchanges, and this was true with most of my interactions, were a mishmash of Spanglish that took considerable energy and thinking to process. In short, it is tiring but necessary in order to have a more complete and enjoyable travel experience. In some instances, out of frustration mostly, people would whip out their phones, open Google Translator, and although information exchange would continue, actual conversation would come to a virtual halt and you felt like something was lost. But sometimes you opt for it anyway because the constant translating is draining. Tonight though, we both kept our phones in our pockets and opted for the human experience.

After conveying the URLs for the best tour operators and giving me the password for the WiFi, Pablo showed me the dining area, grabbed the key to room #7 and brought me to my room - same floor, just around the corner, through a short, curtained hallway to provide a little more privacy. It was a simple room with a double bed and pine credenza, side tables, and a chair. My towels were neatly folded on the bed and everything was clean. I even had a view of the lake.  For $300 for 6 nights, including breakfast, it was a pretty good deal.

I jumped online, booked my tour for tomorrow - a boat trip to Spegazzini and Upsala glaciers, with hotel pickup at 7:30am - and decided it was time to eat.  All the unpacking and arranging can wait. The dining area consisted of 8 tables, all made by the same person who made my room furniture, a small service counter beside a cold case like you’d see in a butcher shop, and a flat screen on the wall, tuned to what looked like an Argentinian news channel. But the sound was muted and slow, sultry blues came from the speakers. Pablo’s brother, Matthias - same cheerful demeanor, but lesser English skills, came over to my table and directed my attention to the QR code taped to the napkin holder - the menu. The first thing that grabbed my attention was guanaco stew.

Guanacos are in the camel family (camelids) and are one of the two camelids found in the wild in Argentina. The other, the vicuña, is similar but lives at higher elevations. With a wide body, small head, and long neck, the guanaco looks like a llama but behaves more like the pronghorn antelope found in the western US.  In fact, the llama is the domesticated version of the guanaco as there are no wild llamas - llamas are a domesticated species. Alpacas, by the way, are the domesticated version of vicuñas. They prefer to graze in broad open areas where they can keep an eye out for one of their main threats, the puma (fences being the other, but more on that later). Able to run up to 45 miles per hour, given enough warning, the guanaco can easily outrun a puma. 

So tonight I dined on the ancestors of llamas. And it was tasty, going well with the glass of Mendoza Malbec I ordered - Mendoza being the main growing area of Argentina's fantastic red wines. The meat was lighter than beef, not as fatty as pork, and didn't have the gaminess you sometimes get from venison or elk. All else being equal, I'd order it again, but, in reality, I prefer seeing those serene but wary faces in the wild.

The restaurant dinner service starts at 7:00 and ends at 11:00. It was closing time as I finished my meal and I still had a lot to do before going to bed to catch some sleep before the morning pickup - I didn't want to be THAT guy and keep a busload of people waiting because I couldn't manage my time. 

Friday, March, 10, 2023 - Upsala Glacier

I awoke early so I could grab some tea and bread before heading out for the glacier tour at 7:30 but my eyes wouldn't open. The eye secretions intensified overnight and hardened into a glue that held the eyelids shut. A little water loosened them up and I looked at the mirror to see two very red eyes looking back at me. Crap, looks like conjunctivitis. No time to deal with this now, I have a bus to catch and then a boat after that - and I won't be back until evening, so anything that needs to be done will just have to wait until Saturday.

The minibus arrived exactly on time, the driver verified my name with what he had on his sheet and I joined the three other people already onboard. After a few more pickups from other small hotels the driver pulled up to a new Mercedes tour bus that was already waiting for us. The facilitator on that bus checked our names against her list and we were on our way. It was all impressively efficient and orderly.

It was about a 45-minute ride to the dock and we had great views of the lake and snow-capped mountains along the way. A strong wind was blowing and there were significant whitecaps on the lake. This was going to be an interesting boat ride.

But first, we all had to buy Parque Nacional Los Glaciares tickets. The bus pulled into the parking lot and several other tour buses were already there. We filed in line to get our park ticket and I was one of the last. Just as on airplanes, people rush to the door as soon as the door opens but I tend to hang back to assess the environment and maybe grab some photos. Even though it was only Friday, this was a large group and the operator had to deploy a second boat to get everyone to the glaciers. It also stressed the park staff who were hurrying to sell tickets before the scheduled departure. 

With about 20 or so people still in line, the facilitators motioned for everyone to get aboard. It was time to leave and they were serious about prompt departures and returns so as to not inconvenience travelers. I assumed we would buy our ticket on board once we were underway but no one challenged me for a ticket so I got into the park for free - which was good because I didn't have enough pesos to buy the ticket, dollars weren't accepted, and credit cards were strongly discouraged because of intermittent internet connection. Sometimes it pays to wait. 

The catamaran was big. As best I could determine it held 200-300 passengers although we were packed pretty tightly until they opened the decks. It was powered by powerful twin engines that raised an impressive rooster tail as it plowed through the waves directly into the wind. And all that power was absolutely necessary as we headed up the lake and turned into its northern arm that's fed by runoff from the Spegazzini and Upsala glaciers.

While the crew went through the safety briefing, we did introductions as best we could around my table of eight. There were two travelers who had English skills at least as good as my Spanish, a retired surgeon and his daughter - an eye doctor. She lamented that she didn’t have any instruments with her but it was her best guess that I had conjunctivitis.  As I thought about it, it made sense.  All the people and handrails while at Iguazú could not be anything but an alpha conduit for pathogens of all kinds and from all over the world.

The wind settled down as we reached the fork in the channel - Upsala Canal to the right, Spegazzini Canal to the left.  The captain veered us to the right and soon we were into a channel that had considerably more icebergs in it - some of considerable size. We sailed up the channel far enough to get a view of the massive Upsala Glacier. Upsala, about 35 miles long, made a grand, sweeping arc from left to right and back to left again to tumble into the channel. Massive. And made even more so by its imposing 230’ face. The glacier has been receding rapidly in recent years and the bergs calving from its relatively rapid retreat eventually clogged the channel to traffic.

We turned about and headed past the juncture and into the Spegazzini Canal.  Unlike Upsala, Spegazzini is more stable and does not calve as many bergs.  It makes its contribution to Lago Argentino mostly by melting and runoff. As such, the boat could get much closer to the glacier - a different view from that which Upsala provided and just as magnificent.

Friday, March, 10, 2023 - Spegazzini Glacier

Spegazzini, at only 10 miles long in its longest arm, is fed by multiple snowfields above its steep slopes. It is characterized as “stable” and has maintained a generally consistent volume for the past 50 years. Its nearly mile-wide front is a labyrinth of jagged ice spires, as high as 440’, creating an effective dam for the ice and snow on the steep slopes above. Imposing.

There was a refuge, a remote snack restaurant, near the glacier so we docked, got lunch - empanadas for me, and marveled at the sight of Spegazzini. It seemed as though we could’ve walked right up to it but that privilege would be reserved for Perito Moreno.  As it was, we got the opportunity to linger in the grandeur of this ice river carving a path through this primal forest.

Eventually though, we were summoned back to the ship to sail to Puerto Bandera. There was a bit of wistfulness in leaving these rivers of ice and the crowd was much more subdued than when we left the dock this morning. We passed by the Seco Glacier, a glacier that never makes it to the lake, an oddity among 47 or so glaciers of the Patagonian Continental Ice. Traveling with the wind, the ride was both smoother and faster. The doctors and I chatted while the rest of our tablemates, as did many others on the ship, snoozed. As much as I would’ve enjoyed snapping some candid shots of weary travelers, I resisted the urge to photograph them. We disembarked and boarded the tour buses back to El Calafate. The bus ride was quiet as well. Travelers either slept or contemplated the impact of the day's events.

The transfer point for those getting on the smaller buses that take them to their hotels was a short walk to Koi Mahik so I left the tour there and went up the hill to the hotel.  As in many other small hotels in other countries, you are asked to leave your key at the front desk and then you retrieve them when you return. There was no one at the desk when I came in and I was content to enjoy the view until someone showed up. That someone came through the kitchen door, weaved through the dining tables, and walked into the lobby. I instinctively knew this place was his.

Juan Carlos was born in Switzerland in the 1940s and came to Argentina as a young boy. He was tall, tanned, had short white hair in a brush cut, and he reminded me a lot of Walter, the retired Swiss Guard who toured my family through the Vatican a few years ago. He had a pretty good English vocabulary and we were able to communicate fairly well through our Spanglish.

He told me the building consists of 8 apartments and three guest rooms - I thought that was an odd mix.  He is somewhat of a developer and had the structure, built of concrete, constructed a few years ago.  He proceeded to tell me the problems of pouring concrete in this climate where freezing is a bid issue in the long winter season.  That and, consequently, the fact that jobs in the construction trades are seasonal here makes it difficult to get things built.  Still in his grandfatherly mode, he slipped into a sales pitch, well, it was more informational than a sales pitch, and said he could put up a 2-bedroom cottage on a lot with a view of the lake for $22,000.  Tempting.

His sons, Pablo and Mathias, run the operation and the entire extended family lives on site.  And that “family” feel comes through in their pride in their establishment, in El Calafate, in Los Glaciares. And everyone was so hospitable and helpful.  Last night, at check-in, Pablo gave me great information about tours.  Today, Juan Carlos would help me with two pressing issues: medication for my eyes and exchanging dollars for pesos.

I first asked him where the best place is to exchange dollars. His reply, “Here.” He offered 360 without the hassle of jumping into a taxi or maybe even waiting in line.  Done.  Second, I needed to know where the closest pharmacy was because of my eye.  He said he’d take me there. Hospitable and helpful. 

Juan Carlos went into some back room and came out with a stack of pesos in several denominations. He demanded I count it and it was, of course, spot on. He then pointed to his silver Volkswagen and told me to go out the door to my right and walk around the building to meet him at the car. Done.  Juan Carlos drove the 2 miles to the pharmacy talking about construction projects all the way.  There was some confusion as to whether he was going to wait for me or not but we eventually agreed to meet back at Koi Mahik.

The pharmacy sold prescription drugs, OTCs, and cosmetics.  When you walked in you selected a number from the machine - but only after first declaring whether you were there for cosmetics or drugs. That seemed a bit odd at first but as I watched numbers being called up it was clear that you had different consultants based on your needs, hence the declaration.  Pretty efficient.

My turn came up at a pharmacy window and I conveyed I needed some eye drops for my, obviously, red eyes.  A second assistant came to the window and they both shook their heads. They said I needed a prescription. I agreed but didn’t have one so I convinced them to just give me the best medicated eye drops they could.  I was, more or less, satisfied but the fact that both the pharmacy assistants agreed I needed something stronger told me I was going to have to be flexible tomorrow.  If the eyes showed improvement with these drops, then stay the course, else find a doctor who could see me - on a Saturday.

Instead of eating in town, I decided to hike back to Koi Mahik and eat there.  The walk back gave me an opportunity to see the shops in El Calafate - most all catered to tourists. It did make me wonder though what happened in the winter when the majority of tourists were elsewhere and how they fared through the worst years of Covid. I got the sense that without Los Glaciares and the visitors that came to see them, El Calafate would most likely cease to exist.

A small Pizza Napolitano and a beer wrapped up my evening.  It was quite a day.

Saturday, March 11, 2023 - Hospital and a Night Visitor

Woke up this morning and my eyes were sealed shut for the 2nd consecutive day. The eyedrops I picked up really didn't do much. The day was open, it was time to take definitive action on the eye ailment lest it become a real problem.

After breakfast I asked Juan Carlos’ son, Mathias, if any doctors were open today. He said only at the hospital.  Well, time to see what the inside of an Argentine hospital looks like. I asked Mathias to please call me a cab and 5 minutes later I was on the way. The hospital looked like it was less than a year old and was a lot bigger than what was needed for a town the size of El Calafate.  In reality though, it was a regional hospital in a fairly remote area full of active people who sometimes got themselves into medical situations, so its size made sense.  Except for a virtually empty parking lot, maybe 15 cars, it looked like most any small hospital in the US - they even had that pale, mint green paint on the walls.  I think that color was designed specifically for hospitals and medical offices because you really don’t see it anywhere else. 

There was one person in line at the intake window but she was quickly processed and then it was my turn. The receptionist was rather gruff and I wasn’t sure if her demeanor was for everyone or just foreigners.  She asked for my passport and insurance card and I gave her both explaining that my insurance was useless in Argentina and I would just pay cash. Now, keep in mind this is all conducted in Spanish and my skills are still not nearly good enough to smoothly pull off such an interaction without having to use Google Translate.  She whipped out her phone as well and we quickly sorted things out.  She directed me through some double doors into the maze of hospital rooms and corridors.  I finally found Consultation Room 7 and waited about 3 minutes before the doctor came in. She quickly confirmed what I had suspected, that I had conjunctivitis - pink eye.  She wrote out a prescription for some antibiotic drops and I was back in the intake area in less than 10 minutes. Ms. Gruff presented me with the bill - exactly $6.49 - which, for some reason, was further reduced to $3.69 by the credit card company.

If I had to do that in the US I would have burned half a day and it would have easily cost 50 or 100 times that with exactly the same result.  What in the heck is wrong with the healthcare system in the USA? Insurance companies are at least partly to blame (more on insurance companies later) but overall greed by multiple parties; providers, patients, attorneys, politicians, insurance companies share the blame for a broken system that will not be fixed in my lifetime, nor in anyone's lifetime sans some major disruption, for once such a matrix of greed becomes established it feeds on itself in perpetuity.

I asked Ms. Gruff to please call me a cab and 5 minutes later I was headed back to El Centro - “downtown” El Calafate.

The taxi dropped me off across from the pharmacy and I got my prescription filled. After that, it was time to work on reservations for visiting Perito Moreno. There were plenty of tour operators online, but their service centers were here in the little shops along the main street in El Calafate so I got to deal with them face to face. And not one would book me on a glacier mini-trek because of age - Ouch. They all had the same maximum age of 65, blaming it on insurance requirements. Plausible but regardless if true or not it was clear that getting on the ice was going to be quite a challenge if doable at all. I opted for an $80 bus, boat, hike tour that would bring me to the glacier itself. Once at the edge of the glacier I'd see what opportunities might present themselves.  It was the best I could do given my time left in the area.

While on the street I also booked a tour to the north to El Chaltén from Patagonia Dreams aboard their rugged,mid-size Mercedes bus. The remainder of my time here was now in place and I would accomplish all of my goals - except for standing on a glacier again.

On my walk back to Koi Mahik I passed by a restaurant serving lamb (cordero) - Argentine Lamb Al Asador - with a lamb or two flayed out on Asador Crosses in front of a mound of coals. It’s a slow roast taking 7 or 8 hours and plenty of bastings and beating with rosemary as well as turning the lamb and tending to the coals. I decided it was time for a treat. And a treat it was. Bread, salad, Asador lamb, and wine. The pile of lamb the waiter brought me had pieces of crispy skin, chunks of meat, and shreds of muscle that were more smoked and dried than cooked - a magnificent trio of meat flavors.

Saturday, March 11, 2023 - Hospital and a Night Visitor

I took my time walking back to the Koi, stopping in a few tourist shops and noticing the abundance of dogs that seemed to be always milling about on the street - The Dogs of El Calafate. My legs and I were getting used to this uphill walk to the Koi and I was soon back at the hotel and in my room.  I spoke a little with Pablo when I got my key but a couple came in right after me so we cut our conversation short so he could tend to them. Just as good, I wanted to get into my room, rest my eyes, and let the antibiotic work its magic.

I called my daughter before retiring for the night and while on the phone I heard a rustling by the window and out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a dark shape come through the window and slip under the bed. It had been warm in the room and I had the window open to take advantage of the cool breeze outside. 

I told Gianna I had a situation and asked her to call me back in 5 minutes. As I was deciding how to peek under the bed without being attacked by whatever it was under there, a calico cat came out and started investigating the room. 

After ascertaining there were no threats she jumped on the bed and rolled on her back - she wanted to play. She was skinny but looked in too good a shape to be a street cat, besides, the life expectancy of a street cat with this many dogs roaming around would be about 3 days, regardless of how many lives they have. I gave her a pet but was reluctant to scoop her up and toss her back outside - I'd already been to the hospital once and, regardless of how inexpensive and effortless it was, I really didn't want to go back there to be treated for cat scratches and/or bites and start the injection regimen for possible rabies.

A few more pets and she started purring and rubbing up against my legs. She was finding satisfaction in her new home and the thought crossed my mind to just let her stay for a while. Reason prevailed though and I scooped her up without resistance, set her back on the sill, and closed the window. I waved goodbye to my little friend before drawing the curtain, finishing my call, and turning off the light. 

Sunday, March 12, 2023 - The Road to El Chaltén

Up at 6:00am after a very restless night. The eye drops have made a marginal improvement as I didn't have to pry my eyelids open this morning. But, they are still weeping and sinus and now throat problems are on the rise. Probably should have lobbied for some general antibiotics while at the hospital. Note to self, add antibiotics to the med kit. That's especially important as it seems I can bank on sinus congestion, dry sinuses, and mild sinus infections whenever I travel. 

This morning, it’s off to El Chaltén.  I was having my bread and tea when Marianne, the wife/girlfriend of Mathias, came out of the kitchen with two fresh croissants. “They are still hot.” she said shyly in English. It was a simple and heartwarming gesture that set the tone for the day.  I thanked her again when I left, one of the croissants wrapped in a napkin in hand.  I’ll have that later. 

The mini-bus was right on time at 7:30 and it brought me and a handful of other travelers to our tour bus for the day. We had to make the transfer across a street downtown. I started to go but so a taxi in a hurry barreling toward the narrow gap between the buses. A woman to my right tried to bypass me and I swung my arm out to block her.  She was about ready to protest when the taxi whizzed by. She did a 180 and thanked me instead.  I just turned my head a bit and gave a crinkly-eyed smile. That’s what I do ma’am.

The tour bus was this rugged, extended tail, high-clearance, Mercedes that looked like it could easily ford streams. Mounted on its back rack was a spare tire and room for a few jerry cans. As was common on many trucks and buses here, it had an exposed, stainless steel, hydraulic brake line that extended down from the frame and bolted to each wheel - a curious design as it seems those lines are exposed to debris that might get kicked up from the road. So many trucks and buses had them though, maybe ruptured hydraulic lines aren’t much of a problem.

The bus was mostly full and I had a brief conversation with a gentleman from the Netherlands.  Our friendly talk eventually got around to Putin’s War and, surprisingly, he asked me if we hear much news about it in the States.  I assured him the American people are keenly aware of what is going on there.

A little out of town, just before reaching Highway 40 - the backbone of Argentina, just like Route 66 in the United States - we reached another transfer point and some of the people, including the Dutchman, got off for other, unknown destinations.  Once we reached Hwy 40 and turned north we were clearly in the steppes, the rugged, barren badlands characterized by broad moraine-filled valleys and steep, carved cliffs - evidence of glacier action that has ebbed and flowed over time.

We skirted around the eastern shore of Lago Argentino, crossing its outlet, the Santa Cruz River which flows due east to the Atlantic Ocean, thereby bisecting the country, north and south. Soon after, Lago Viedma, also being the result of glacial runoff and, today at least, appearing even more turquoise than Lago Argentino, came into view. Lago Viedma flows, via the Rio La Leóna, directly into Lago Argentino on its eastern shore, increasing the flow of water into the Santa Cruz river. 

We started to see many guanaco in the barren land between Lago Argentino and Lago Viedma. They prefer the sparse land, virtually devoid of vegetation, making it easier to see their only predator - the puma.  Given a head start, a guanaco can easily outrun a puma but they need to see the big cat coming. As such, the terrain they prefer is no different from that of the pronghorn antelope in the western U.S.  Perhaps it’s the long neck, a useful adaptation for spotting threats, but there’s something of the noble about the somewhat aloof guanaco.

Sunday, March 12, 2023 - El Chaltén

 We crossed over Rio La Leóna at, of all places, La Leóna - the only outpost we encountered on the road from El Calafate and El Chaltén.  The complex of La Leóna consists of a 2-star hotel, some clapboard cabins, and a coffee and souvenir shop. The proprietors had installed a few wind turbines to generate electricity but the small units were no match for the winds that constantly blew from the lake. La Leóna is also a drop-off point for those wishing to take a kayak tour down the Rio La Leóna to Rio Santa Cruz and beyond, perhaps all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. As we pulled into the parking area, several kayakers were beginning to put their kayaks in the water for the start of their journey to the south and east.  The river, at least at this point, seemed to be flowing rapidly but steadily without any rough water in sight.

Everyone got out to stretch their legs and get some coffee or hot water for their iconic mate - a caffeine-rich herbal infusion made from Yerba Mate leaves. Mate aficionados have their own highly customized mugs, with, usually, stainless steel straws, and they all seem to be sharing the same unspoken secret. Our destination for the day is the village of El Chaltén, just north of Lago Viedma at the base of Mount Fitz Roy on the Argentina-Chile border.  Actually, to this day, the area remains an undefined and uncontested border between the two countries.

Immediately upon arrival, we climbed a bluff overlooking the town that also gave us a view towards Glacier Viedma, to the northwest as well as Mt. Fitz Roy to the north.  Unfortunately, the crests of the highest peaks were shrouded in weather so I didn’t get to see them in their splendor.  I think someone would have to spend at least 48 hours to be reasonably assured they'll get a view of those mountains at their best.

After the hike back down to the trailhead, we all piled into the bus and drove to the Rancho Grande Hostel Restaurante for our lunch. After the staff brought out a huge basket of fresh bread, I ordered lamb stew which, it turned out, was all lamb meat, and a salad - fantastic. A hearty meal for climbing the hills and mountains towering over El Chaltén.

Most of the shops were closed for the afternoon.  Their usual clientele, those who spend a few days trekking or climbing, are off in the hills during the day so the shops will open later in the afternoon when they return. After lingering in town after lunch we got aboard for a short ride and then trek through the forest to a waterfall. It was pleasant, but after witnessing Iguazú Falls just a few days earlier it had some tough competition with those images still fresh in my mind. We made our way back to the bus and when everyone was aboard we set out for El Calafate.

On the way back to El Calafate, we passed by several clusters of guanaco just as we had on the way to El Chaltén.  On this return trip though I noticed something I hadn’t seen the first time - guanaco carcasses draped over the barbed wire fence along Hwy 40.  The crude barbed wire fencing was high enough for most guanacos to clear (which makes me wonder about the purpose of the fence) but others tried and failed. They would get hung up on the barbed wire, half their body on one side, half on the other, maybe not even able to touch the ground as their struggling on the barbs led to their eventual evisceration and surrender to death. After 15, I stopped counting the carcasses.

The sun was low in the sky when we stopped to transfer into our respective mini-buses to our hotels.  When I arrived, dinner was already being served so I just dropped off my gear in the room and went to my usual table. Ñoquis (gnocchi) was back on the menu so I gave it a try - I was probably better off with the pizza.

That was the end of the day. Now it was time to prepare for the star of the show down south - Glaciar Perito Moreno. I had saved the best for last.

Monday, March 13, 2023 - Perito Moreno Glacier

After Marianna brought me the two tasty, hot croissants yesterday, I decided to switch to a croissant instead of bread for breakfast. Marianna brought me a wrapped lunch as lunch was not provided on this tour. It consisted of two kinds of pre-packaged cookies, an apple, water (I could've had juice), and a Porteño sandwich. In Argentina, a Porteño is anyone from Buenos Aires and, somehow, a sandwich is named after them. It is a breaded cutlet (I never was able to determine what kind of meat), pounded thin, fried, and placed on a bun with some cheese, lettuce, and tomato. A chicken-fried steak sandwich.

The mini-bus picked me up promptly at 7:30 and brought me to the tour bus that would bring us into the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. Rain started falling as we left Calafate and continued intermittently throughout the day. I didn't mind the rain, it kept things cooler, but the lack of strong direct sunlight did mute those intense blues the glacier displays. We did get hints of it though whenever the sun peeked through the clouds and that made those moments all the more special.

Just as the bus was gaining in elevation and moving from the Patagonian steppes to the forest we saw some rhea in the distance.  The rhea is South America’s answer to Africa’s ostrich.  It has the same habits and movements, just in a more compact size - ostriches can grow to 300 lbs whereas rheas top out at about 70 lbs.  I was surprised I hadn’t seen any on the road to El Chaltén but now, aftering seeing how well they blend into the landscape, I’m guessing they were there along Hwy. 40 but I was more focused on looking for the reddish-brown of the guanacos.

We were in typical Patagonia forest by the time we stopped at the park entrance.  Through the mist, the deciduous trees were showing color as autumn took hold. It was raining hard enough for the park cashier to don her rain gear when she boarded the bus to collect the 5,500 peso park entrance fee. When the cashier was collecting the fee from the young guy behind me, I noticed his Spanish had an English accent.  

After their business was done, I asked him where he’s from. He goes to NYU but was on a foreign study program in Buenos Aires - apparently NYU has 40-50 students under the program in Buenos Aires at any given time.  They’re on fall break right now and he wants to see as much of South America as he can while he’s done here.  Thinking of my daughter who’s looking forward to studying in Singapore next Spring semester, I asked him if he has any advice for a student going into a foreign exchange program. He thought a minute and said: 

1) be outgoing, make friends quickly - it facilitates learning about the near environment, and

2) do and see as much as you can whenever you can - the time goes by too quickly

I thanked him for his wisdom as that was actually pretty good advice for anyone at any point in their lives.

We pulled away from the park station and the bus wound its way through the forest. As we drew nearer to the landing for the boat that would take us across the channel - another arm of Lago Argentino - we started getting peek-a-boo views of the glacier. It was a bright slash of white and blue cutting through the misty views of rock, lake, and trees. The leading wall, which was sometimes just a compressed mass of ice spires, is over 200-250 feet tall but the depth of the glacier itself is considerably greater at up to 2,300 feet. You know it's big but it's so broad it's difficult to grasp the immensity of this river of ice. And as your eyes follow the river upstream it gets broader and has several layers that spill into the one below it. And even though it is composed of ice, how it, and any other glacier, is created is by compressing snow, not by freezing water. And because snowpack has been increasing in this part of the Andes, Perito Moreno is growing whereas other glaciers in the Andes complex, mostly in the north, are receding.

After being assured the boat was secure, we boarded for the short ride across the Brazo Rico channel to the opposite shore, the closest I’d get to that undefined border of Chile on this part of the trip. The boat was not nearly as crowded as the catamaran to Upsala and Spegazzini and the captain took his time going across the channel, getting close to the glacier to make sure we all had good shots of the ice. We eventually came to a stop on a wet, sandy, pebbly, beach just off the southern face. There was no dock but a stowable ramp made sure it wasn’t a wet landing.

Monday, March 13, 2023 - Perito Moreno Glacier

Once on the beach we split into two groups, one for English speakers and the other for Spanish and Portuguese speakers. I was in the smaller group, maybe a dozen or so.  The rains gave way to occasional patches of sunlight as my group climbed onto the elevated wooden walkway through the forest. The path paralleled the edge of the glacier as we moved uphill.  We would get occasional views of the glacier and of some of the trekkers higher up on the glacier itself. Their path was well-defined by ropes attached to steel rods driven into the ice.  The human presence on the ice helps give a sense of scale to the natural wonder that lay in front of us.

The walkway led us out of the forest and it terminated in the moraine beside the glacier as it ground its way through the valley.  Waterfalls were cascading down the rock cliffs above us but the ice of Perito Moreno went far, far higher than that.  Free from the forest, I strode across the moraine and directly to the edge of the glacier.  The first thing I did was to put my hands on the ice - to touch it.  

It’d been half a century since I’d been at a glacier and I forgot what it was like.  It was much more slippery than I’d remembered.  I couldn’t imagine trying to climb on it like I did on the Fox glacier with my leather-sole boots back then.  There were occasional rumblings as the glacial ice shifted but they all seemed to be on the Canal de los Tempanos side of the glacier so there was no concern. The ice seemed so solid, so strong and it took some effort to wrap my head around the forces of nature that created this ice and moves it today.  The ice that my hands were sliding over right now fell as snow, high up in the Andes, many thousands of years ago.

The two groups converged at the glacier and people broke into small groups to explore the glacier, the lake, the moraine.  The guides spread out to make sure people didn’t stray too far or otherwise got themselves into trouble. I kept moving up the side of the glacier and started noticing sliver canyons penetrating into the glacier. From on top of the glacier they would appear as crevasses, but from beside the glacier at its base, they looked like inviting, ice-blue passages into another world.  I found one wide enough and I slipped inside.

It was cool. It was quiet. It was wet. It was blue. Light filtered in from high above where the crevasse walls broke through to sunlight. It was a very meditative atmosphere. I could have lingered there, napped there, for the rest of the afternoon. I couldn’t walk ON the glacier this time but I found something even better by walking IN the glacier.

Our handlers started to round us up and I quietly slipped out of my sliver of serenity to rejoin the group as we walked across the moraine and then along the beach to board the ship.  Once aboard, we were greeted with glasses of calafate liquor served over glacial ice. The liquor was homemade, it had that telltale taste of a homegrown still.  And not being confined by any regulatory constraints it had a healthy kick to it - that did not in any way detract from the rich fruit flavor of the calafate berry.  I got a refill on our way back across the channel and savored both it and the view of Perito Moreno in our wake.

We disembarked and went immediately to the bus - the rains were returning but we were not yet done with Perito Moreno.  The bus took a short drive and let us out at a lodge perched high on a bluff opposite the glacier.  There was an extensive array of metal grates and steps across the top and ramps and stairs going down the slope, all designed to get remarkable views of Perito Moreno from multiple vantage points. 

We were left to explore on our own for a few hours before the bus departed to take us back to El Calafate. Some people went into the lodge to get food, drink, and to stay dry, others hit the trails.  I covered my backpack with the rain hood and then sat down with my Porteño sandwich while people took off for or came back from the trails and walkways.  After refueling, I hit the trails myself to enjoy the glacier.  There were rumblings every 10 minutes or so and it was comical to see everyone shift the cameras to see if they could get a shot of a large chunk of ice calving from where the sound came. I did the same thing, but the closest I could get was a splash from a block that had fallen just around the corner and out of sight.

I got back to the lodge with about 10 minutes to spare before the bus came for us. The rain dissipated as we got near El Calafate and everyone was subdued.  It was not a strenuous day, but it was an active one. The mini-bus dropped me off at the Koi Mahik and I retrieved my key from Mathias, Pablo was off with his daughter at a school function. I retired to my room to clean up, regroup, hang my wet clothes, and take a short nap before dinner. Even though it was close to 8:00 when I walked into the dining room, I was still the only one there.

After dinner, (small pizza, large beer, $8.50) I noticed Juan Carlos sitting in the lobby so I sat down to chat a bit.  I didn’t understand all of what he said but that didn’t phase him from continuing on as though I had 100% comprehension.  He complained about the price of gas and said he was looking forward to flying back to Switzerland for the off season.  Interestingly, he also mentioned that he gets flights to Buenos AIres for about $50, one way. I pressed him on which airlines and he just said it was the no-service airlines but with a flight of less than 3 hours and him sleeping most of the way he didn’t care about service.  Made sense to me.

He asked me about Perito Moreno and I said it was fantastic despite the rain. He was surprised because there was no rain in El Calafate today, even though a cold front moved in that'll drop tonight's temperatures to the 30's. I hope the cat finds a warm place to sleep tonight. 

I told him I was looking forward to returning with my wife and daughter (I’d stay at Koi Mahik, of course) and he was shocked when I told him how much it cost to fly here from Tucson (about $1500).  He said that’s more than it costs him to fly to Switzerland.  He suggested looking at flights from Miami which, again, made sense. And when I told him my route back - El Calafate, Buenos Aires, Santiago, Atlanta, Tucson - he was again surprised, stating that Santiago is only 200 miles away. In reality though, it's about five times that. Perhaps something got lost in translation.

At 9:00 his wife came in and called him to dinner, I thanked him for the conversation, and I headed back to room #7 to wrap up the day. And a good day it was, despite the rain.

Tuesday, March 14, 2023 - The Flamingos of El Calafate

My final full day in El Calafate. No tours today, it's a day to prepare for travel and to leisurely absorb the atmosphere of this quirky town before I have to leave.  The plan is to check-in for my flights tomorrow then walk downtown - photographing the Dogs of El Calafate along the way. A light rain in the morning, as forecasted, made it easy to stay inside until I got my logistics in order.

The temperatures took a dip overnight - fall was in the air. Every day I notice more leaves turning yellow or red. Despite the winds that suppress the growth of any trees in the vicinity, there are quite a few trees in town and I can easily imagine how colorful it is when the trees are displaying their autumn plumage.

The rains lasted until 11:30. The clouds broke and the sun emerged but it was still extremely windy. I grabbed the big lens, which I have yet to use in El Calafate, and decided to walk into town. It was an easy go because the wind was at my back. Coming back would be a different story but I'll deal with that later. 

I decided to take a different route to get closer to the lake as I noticed an estuary along the shore near the city and perhaps I'd find some waterfowl there. Down by the water, the winds were even more intense and within a few minutes my cap was flying through the air and into the marsh. I ran to where it landed, just about 30 feet beyond a parapet wall along the lake walk. I could've easily jumped the wall but I couldn't determine the characteristics of the marsh, nor how to get back up so I waved goodbye to the cap and moved on. In retrospect, I should've taken a few moments and gotten a shot of it. It was my go-to brown, corduroy hat that I've had for several years and I liked it so much that when some of the seams started to come apart a few years ago, I sewed them back together using the only thread I had available at the time - red. But now, it belongs to Lago Argentino.

New agenda - get a new hat, quickly. The sun was bright and my head was fully exposed - I couldn't sustain that situation for long. So I turned toward the main road and went into the first shop that sold caps. The clerk tried to sell me a blue and white Messi hat but I took a pass and opted for a simple, black cap and I was on my way again.

The wind had an effect on the dogs as well. I came across several, but most of them were sleeping or hunkered down to shelter from the wind. I took several photos but none of them really stood out. At the end of the commercial area, I crossed the road and started walking in the opposite direction, back to the hotel. Then I remembered something I'd read before I left - there are flamingos in El Calafate. 

I stopped at a small tour shop and inquired about the flamingos. I didn't have time to travel to see them, wherever they were, but at least I'll know for any future visits. The clerk told me to walk 4 blocks, turn right, and keep going until I reach the Reserva Laguna Nimez. Wow, they were within reach! 

I found the park office perched on the shore of the wetlands. It seemed the winds were more intense now that I was back by the lake and I saw walkways extending out another two or three hundred meters. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I asked the guard about the flamingos and he said there's some out there now but a lot more in the summer. Price for admission was 3,000 pesos, a bit much but not terrible - the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares charged 5,500 but offered so much more. While I was weighing the pros and cons, the guard added that tomorrow would be a better day because of the wind. Bam! That tipped the scales. I'd take a pass.

Outside, I scanned the wetland for flamingos and found a small group by the far walkway. It was a stretch even for the big Sigma but I snapped a few shots anyway. Time to return to the hotel.

The walk back, straight into the wind, was a bit challenging, but I made it, and by 4:00 I was chatting with Pablo at the front desk. As I walked through the doors I told him the winds are vicious out there today. He laughed. He said today's sustained winds are about 40 km/hr. A couple of months ago, it blew at 80 km/hr - for 10 days. And he's seen 120 km/hr - that's hurricane-force winds. Cold air rushing off the mountains collides with the much warmer air of the steppes and the result is days like today.

We chatted a bit more before I retired to my room to pack. I was pretty well maxed out on luggage space coming to Argentina and the few things I bought here create quite a packing puzzle that must be solved before I head for the airport tomorrow and I'd rather get that behind me.

I was also able to get checked in on all four flights but got boarding passes for only the first two legs. Delta put me in a Catch-22 situation. Their site wouldn't let me check in until 24 hours before the flight is scheduled to depart. Fair enough, most airlines do that but Aerolineas Argentinas begins their check-in 48 hours prior to departure. When I was finally able to start the check-in process, I was informed I had to start with the carrier on the first flight - Aerolineas Argentinas - even though the booking was done directly with Delta. If they had originally informed me of that I could've gotten into a higher group and avoided the bin scramble. 

Worse, when I checked in with Aerolineas Argentinas, it acknowledged all the legs but they informed me I had to see Delta about getting boarding passes for the last two legs - both Delta. I went back to the Delta sight and received the same message as before, that I must go through Aerolineas. I was stuck. I could resolve in Santiago tomorrow but I have only 1 hour to make my connection there. Thanks Delta. They have lousy routes to South America and then a convoluted system to get boarding passes. I find no compelling reason to do business with them again. Besides, I don't like Atlanta.

But I got the suitcase closed, the taxi is set for a 7:30 pickup, I have boarding passes that'll get me as far as Santiago, Chile, so it's time to take a nap. This will all be worked out tomorrow, I'm sure. 

Wednesday, March 15, 2023 - Departure

Just had a cup of tea for breakfast, I really don't like to eat much before a long flight - or four. Went back to my room to gather my things and by the time I came out, the driver was in the lobby waiting for me. He loved to drive fast. We had plenty of time but the traffic was sparse so he put the pedal to the metal and never said a word the whole trip.  The ride cost 4,500, more than double the bus rate, but I'll pay that premium to get to the airport on time.

We arrived just as a tour bus started letting out a bunch of elderly passengers. They had big suitcases so they shuffled to the check-in counter but I went directly to the queue for the gates, which was surprisingly long but, again, I had plenty of time so I didn't mind.

Through security, up the stairs, and the waiting begins. Lots of waiting today. The worst though is in Buenos Aires - I arrive at 1:00 but my flight to Santiago doesn't leave until 7:45. Although I do have to transfer from Ezeiza (EZE) to Jorge Newbery Aeroparque (AEP) by bus which will take wellover an hour, as well as go through security and passport control so that time gets whittled down considerably.

And I was able to finally get all my boarding passes through to Tucson. That is a huge plus and relieves considerable stress. I thought I was going to finally be able to stretch out a bit on this 3-hour flight. My row was empty with only 10 minutes before departure but then someone arrived. OK, still one open seat and if it stayed that way it'd be great. But at 9:58, only 2 minutes before the flight attendants shut the door, a third person joined the row. Sigh . . . maybe next flight.

After landing at the Ezeiza airport I bought a ticket on the Tienda Leon bus to bring me to the Aeroparque and the same man who helped me there in December on my way to Antarctica helped me again. We laughed and shook hands after the transaction and I said I'll see him next year. I was surprised how much I remembered about the airport and ground transportation layout and it was pretty easy finding the ticket desk and then the Tienda Leon bus. The more you do, the easier it gets.

Going through security, the staff thought my electric toothbrush was a weapon and, technically, I guess it is - it fights plaque, bacteria, and cavities. They also debated confiscating my amethyst crystal. There are apparently some rules regarding the export of minerals that the clerk at the Wanda Mine forgot to tell me about. As I was fishing for my entrance ticket to the mine proving I was there they decided it all would be more trouble than it's worth and let me pass. Note to self: don't buy minerals in Argentina, maybe best to not buy anywhere.

Been traveling for 10 hours and still haven't boarded the flight to Chile, much less the long flight to Atlanta. Slowly though, I'm eating this whale bite by bite. And speaking of eating, I was hungry. I forgot to eat again. I spent nearly the last of my money for a salami and cheese sandwich and a water. As far as cash, I have left 400 pesos (a little over a dollar) and a $5 dollar bill. 

We got a late start on boarding which concerned me as I had a tight connection in Santiago for my flight to Atlanta. Nothing I could do about that, just flex with whatever happens.  Other than that, it was a pleasant flight to Santiago, Chile and if it weren't for the darkness it would have been a spectacular flight over the Andes. And on this, the eighth flight of this Argentine adventure, I finally got an empty middle seat!  

That alone was a treat but what made it more enjoyable was the college student, Adriel (Ariel with a "d" as he put it), who sat in the aisle seat. He spoke excellent English and he was studying Biomedical Engineering in Argentina. He was traveling to Santiago for the weekend to be with his family on the first anniversary of his grandmother's passing. I, of course, told him that was my daughter's interest and that led her to her declared major of Computer Science. I told him some of the projects that Gianna was working on - AI modeling to recognize ASL, and in vivo studies of the visual cortex in ferrets - and he was fascinated. He talked about his internship work with start-ups and I, in turn, was fascinated. Unfortunately, I've found it uncommon to find an intelligent, articulate, confident, and ambitious young person but meeting Adriel gave me hope for the future.

Boarding for my next flight was well underway by the time we landed and I had less than 30 minutes to catch my next flight - security, passport control, unfamiliar airport, sitting near the rear, no way I would make it. As I was planning what I was going to do in Santiago that night the purser got on the intercom, called out my name, and asked me to check with staff as I disembarked. Some travelers understood the significance and let me pass through and when I got to the door I said, "Hi, I'm George Everette''.

The cabin attendant shouted out, "George esta aqui, George esta aqui!" And the Delta staff gathered at the door shouted, George! George!" as a young Delta staff member explained the situation. She had been assigned to hurry me through the airport to my gate adding it would be very, very close but we might make it. I said, "I can move as fast as you, vamanos!" And we were off.

For a city of about 5 million, I thought the Santiago airport was pretty big as well as being fairly new. In fact all the airports I'd visited in South America were either new or under remodel. We were moving at a pretty fast clip and, thanks to all the walking I've been doing, I had no trouble keeping up and even made conversation along the way. 

Our first roadblock came at a baggage checkpoint with a pretty long line of travelers. My escort told me to wait and she exchanged a few words with security staff before motioning me forward - I just jumped ahead of the pack, saving at least 20 minutes. My gate was, of course, at the end of the terminal wing but as we approached I saw there were still a handful of travelers there waiting for the passport check. We made it!

I thanked my escort for her help and entered the walkway to the plane where another baggage check was waiting. No scanner, each bag was opened and inspected by hand. And during the check, an annoying security staff person asked me when I arrived in Santiago? (10 minutes ago), how long was I there? (ah, 10 minutes), if I had bought anything? , (um, hello, 10 minutes), where did I stay? (uh, at the airport), and why did I travel to Santiago? (er, to catch this plane).

The fellow rooting around in my bags was much more pleasant and after we bulled my suitcase shut I was permitted to enter the plane for the longest leg of the day's flights. And when the flight attendant sealed the door, the middle seat was still empty. Wow, twice in one day!

Thursday, March 16, 2023 - Final Leg

The flight was scheduled to depart at 11:10 and at midnight we were still sitting at the gate. The captain told the travelers that there was some kind of problem with fuel delivery and the co-pilot was negotiating with the fueler right now. It made me a little uncomfortable that they'd be dumping thousands of gallons of jet fuel (the Airbus A350 holds about 40,000 gallons) into a plane full of passengers but I just have to assume the additional risk was nominal.

We took off at 1:00am. The two-hour window I had to make my final flight just evaporated. The captain said Delta would automatically re-book those passengers who would miss their connection and a quick search revealed there was another non-stop Delta flight to Tucson that would get me there by 2:00 - only 3 hours beyond my original scheduled arrival. Given the circumstances, that wasn't bad.

I settled in and because the gentleman in the aisle seat wasn't particularly friendly I didn't even feel bad taking off my boots and spreading out a bit - my feet had marinated long enough. I actually slept a bit on the flight, a sure sign that I was running low on energy. And that was a good thing because I'd been in transit for over 24 hours now.

Just before landing, the purser came though the cabin and addressed each traveler with a connecting flight to either assure them they would make their flight, or let them know what their new flight would be if missing the flight was imminent. He said I'd have almost an hour to catch mine - entirely doable because I had no checked bag. The time change to daylight savings was my savior as it gave me back one of the hours I'd lost in Santiago.

I still had to go through immigration and customs, and I still had to move fast. I got slowed down going through security because the idiot TSA agent saw fit to confiscate my calafate jam but I didn't bother protesting, keeping my eye on the bigger picture. Besides, if you spend time arguing with an idiot, who's the bigger idiot?  But, really, four flights and three countries and my Calafate jam did not raise any red flags until Atlanta. Idiocy. I guess I should feel lucky they didn't try to confiscate my rock.

They'd already called my group by the time I got to the gate so I walked right onto the plane - no waiting. And, lo and behold, I made a hat trick. Despite the plane being mostly full, no middle seat - three in a row!

A nice ending to an awesome adventure.

Lessons from Argentina

I like to think I learn something from every journey, it's one of the pleasures that makes up for the inconveniences and annoyances of traveling in the 21st century. Here's my key takeaways from this excursion:

When planning on exchanging dollars in Argentina, bring new, crisp, fresh $100 bills. Do not fold them.

Be careful what you buy if all you've got is carry-on luggage. I lost my Calafate jam and could have lost my amethyst crystals from Minas de Wanda. The jam because of carry-on liquid restrictions and the crystal because of mineral export restrictions.

Even though the prices are often tempting on multi-stop flights, go with the fewest stops possible without breaking the budget. The benefits of, usually, shorter overall travel time and less exposure to pathogens have value.

In comparing what I planned to do with what I did do it was as close as I could reasonably get. In some cases, objectives were combined or omitted as the reality of specific circumstances called for flexibility. All in all, a richer trip than I had planned and a more demanding one as well.

Argentina is an incredible country spanning the latitudes of the tropics in the north to the subpolar region of Tierra del Fuego.  It is blessed with literally jaw-dropping natural wonders worthy of anyone’s travel short list, Perito Moreno Glacier and Iguazú Falls being the most spectacular and popular.  

This was my second trip to Argentina and there are still many places I haven’t seen like the ruins in Misiones and the mix of cultures in Jujuy in the far northwest. It seems every time I travel to Argentina I find more reasons to return.