Nothing beats happening upon wildness in the form of a less familiar plant or animal and Patagonia offers plenty of opportunities, whether in the Tiera del Fuego or further north, especially into the mountains where we spent time in the Torres del Paine National Park. These are upland geese, female on the left, which we encountered often across the region.The glacial geology, especially in the Tiera del Fuego, means the soil build-up is quite thin, illustrated here by a shallow island of vegetation that is very much like a bonsai planting, laying there like a pancake on top of solid rock.
These flightless birds that look like scaled down ostriches are Lesser Rhea or Darwin’s Rhea, endemic only to the arid steppes and grasslands of South America. They evade predators with sheer speed, clocked at 37 mph, sharp maneuvering, nasty talons, an ability to flatten themselves into the landscape to avoid detection and their habit of grazing with other animals like the guanaco to take advantage of the spidey sense that herds achieve. The guanaco is one of the signature animals of Patagonia, seen here against the background of the three “torres” or “towers” from which Torres del Paine National Park takes its name. It is a type of llama which could be seen in the eastern part of the park, but not in the western part because cattle grazing persists there, depriving wildlife of the extent of grasses needed to survive in that environment.
It’s the puma that keeps the guanaco from becoming too plentiful, now that there are no longer natives successfully relying on them for their primary food source. The caracara and the buzzard eagle are the main scavengers.
Meanwhile, back in Tiera del Fuego, there was an abundance of this fungus known by the European settlers as Indian Bread because the groups of native peoples who spent their lives in canoes kept masses of the fungus with them not only as food, but because it is a great source of water. We popped some and found they’re not bad. The canoe dwellers also kept a fire going in their canoes and, like their forest dwelling neighbors, almost always went naked, smearing themselves with fat for some bit of protection from the elements (the climate being more temperate than we supposed). As with the experience of native people almost everywhere, efforts to exterminate them were largely successful.
The vegetation was lush even in what seemed like the most inhospitable locations, what with the thin soil and ferocious winds, even on a gravel plain aside a glacial stream. Venturing into the forest was to be struck by the overwhelming richness of it all. There were numerous species of orchid and, most familiar to us, plentiful lichen thriving only in this abundance of clean fresh air. The one non-native plant shown here is the red sorrel, introduced for who knows what reason, as there’s nothing chooses to eat it, so if it must have a purpose, it’s to add its own touch of beauty.
The colony of Magellanic penguins on Magdalena IslandOur other life-vests-on excursion was to the penguin colony on Magdalena Island, near Punta Arenas. For once, we remembered our binoculars, although the penguins and other birds paid little mind to the stream of curious visitors as they occupied themselves with the rituals of nesting. We were extremely fortunate to have made all of our landings and Zodiac excursions, as only half of all sailings manage to achieve that due to the vagaries of Patagonian weather.
The island was almost entirely blanketed with nesting birds, primarily penguins and gulls, but also a smattering of other birds such as the upland goose, mostly in single species swathes, but invariably with the occasional other species intermixed. Many of the penguins were quite far from the water, making us wonder if there might be some sort of social hierarchy or pecking order involved within the colony.
The water is filled with ice calved from a glacier. And, yes, the answer to the question, how many glaciers are there in Chile: 26,000. In the fjords headed by those glaciers, lots of ice for the Zodiacs to avoid. Often it felt like we were in that scene from Star Wars, the high speed chase swerving through the trees. Although we did visit one glacier that has been, for some unknown reason, stable, practically all of them have been very noticeably receding due to a combination of warming temperatures and less snow to feed the snow accumulation fields that feed the glaciers. The vertical black streaks in the glaciers are the result of the accumulated scrapings and scrubbings of rock from two glacial streams joining into a single glacier gouging out its path. The waterfall is, of course, the outlet for the substantial internal melting within the glacier. The finger or tooth-like appearance on the top of the glacier is due to its expansion when released from the compression of the surrounding rock.
From our Zodiacs or after clambering on shore, we saw quite a few endlessly fascinating glaciers and very up-close, all named for human beings just passing through. They really are: magnificent.
The continent and its islands end here, marked by a lighthouse. Normally leaving our life vests in a pile on the shore, on our visit by Zodiac boats to Cape Horn we must wear them in case a quick retreat is forced by a change in the weather. And there it is, the Drake Passage. Atlantic to the left, Pacific to the right. Rain dead ahead.
The wallowing trudge up the 200 steps from the Zodiac landing and back down again had been well worth it as we looked forward to many more Zodiac excursions.
There are three ways to cross by sea between Atlantic and Pacific at the bottom of the world: the Drake Passage (that great open stretch of ocean to Antartica), the Strait of Magellan (the convoluted waterway defining Tiera del Fuego, the land of islands to its south), and the Beagle Channel almost to Cape Horn. That is where we find Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world, on the northern shore of the Beagle Channel, the jumping off point for ships destined for Antartica or, as are we, a rounding of Cape Horn and an onward journey through islands and up glacier-headed fjords on our way to Punta Arenas, Chile.
That’s 9:20 PM, for those of you not so sure.
While enjoying long December days in a city closer to the South Pole than to Buenos Aires (a 3 1/2 hour flight away), we also became aware that it is actually a much more temperate climate here than we had expected and closer to that at home than the climate in, for instance, Alaska. Very maritime and a less extreme latitude than up north. We were also incredibly fortunate in being spared the usual excessive rain and cloudiness for which the region is infamous.
Beyond spectacular nature, the only tourist attraction in town is an old and rather notorious prison (why else do utterly remote regions exist?) that supplied forced labor for mining, enabled by the world’s southernmost railway. We did find a good café for coffee and baked goods and lots of shops for outdoor gear and end of the earth mementos.
The End of the PanAmerican Highway (and a beautiful park)
With a quiet walk in an Argentine National Park, we began our exploration of how nature feels in Patagonia and in Tiera del Fuego before boarding the Chilean vessel that would take us further and further into what remains wilderness, barely touched by man. Fortunately, the two nations reached an amicable resolution to national borders that enabled our smooth journey through this region.
How difficult it is to capture the essence of a city in a short visit, especially a place like Buenos Aires, a city bursting with vitality and a kind of hubris, yet smothered in layers of sophistication, corruption and sorrow. It is a beautiful city and relatively easy to navigate, with quite distinct and vibrant neighborhoods where one can feel safe, if cautiously so.
Bus Stop for the Teatro Colón
The Teatro Colón (Columbus Theater) is, for example, one of the world’s great opera houses (ranked by experts as #1 in the world for acoustics for opera), with the current structure opening in 1908. It was built in that 50 year period (1880-1930) when Buenos Aires and Argentina were on top of the world, with a prosperity attracting huge influxes of immigrants, surpassing even the United States. We were fortunate when visiting the theater to be able to slip in to overhear some auditions for principal roles in an upcoming production.
Catedral Metropolitana, Buenos AiresCrown of Thorns With Nails MotifSide AisleMemorial to Holocaust & 1990’s BombingsMausoleum of General San Martín
Best known as the home Cathedral of Archbishop Jorge Bergoglio, now Pope Francis, the Catedral Metropolitana (1827) is also the resting place of the great liberator General José de San Martín guarded by three enormous statues representing Argentina, Chile and Peru, reburied here in 1880 from his home in Paris (being a bit of an absentee liberator), along with two other generals and Argentina’s Unknown Soldier. Elsewhere in the Cathedral is a statue of the Virgin of Luján with a memorial to the victims of both the holocaust and the bombings of Jewish sites in the 1990’s. In addition to very large Italian and German immigrant populations, Buenos Aires has always had a very large Jewish community.
Occupying one entire end of the Plaza de Mayo, the city’s most important square, the Casa Rosada (“Pink House”) is the seat of Argentina’s government and the official office of the President. Famously, in the 1940’s and 1950’s it’s from this balcony that Juan and Evita Perón addressed the nation.
La Recoleta, the city’s premier cemetery (on a par with its famous counterparts in New Orleans and Paris) is the eternal home of many illustrious characters, many who died too young, but none still inspire a respectful queue of admirers like the immortal Evita Perón. And, yes, the country is still divided almost equally between Perónists and rightists, with a recently elected libertarian economist President Milei making strides in stifling absurd levels of inflation, albeit with draconian measures.
And then there are the neighborhoods, like the colorful La Boca,
enjoying ice cream in a galleria or the alfajores bought in the shop just above,
as well as walking the public spaces,
and wondering why Argentinians are so obsessed with fútbal (how many times were we reminded of the triumph of their World Cup win?), even more than with the tango born along the docks of this proud city, as it struggles to overcome the trauma of the brutal dictatorship with the thousands of “disappeared” whose mothers were a constant presence at the Plaza de Mayo and those years upon years of devastating inflation. It’s easy to feel the allure of Buenos Aires.
