Have Dog, Will Travel!

[I wrote this about a month ago, and for reasons of procrastination and utter laziness, am only posting it now. So I'll need you to imagine that you're back in early March, with snow drifts piling outside your window or, conversely, if you're in the southern hemisphere, the thermometer threatening to explode from the heat.]

This plane isn’t for the lighthearted-our ascent was marked by the kind of dipping and diving that would make weaker stomachs reach for the obligatory vomit bag. Let me rescind obligatory; there’s none of the standard seatback pocket fare in front of me. No barfbag, no safety instructions, and there’s sure as hell no in-flight magazine.

I’m currently in the hands of LADE, the passenger flying branch of the Argentine Air Force. For reasons unknown, LADE doesn’t charge the “extranjeros” fees imposed by their civilian counterparts.

After a delay of about two hours at the airport, our flight took off from Ushaia-supposedly the end of the world (more on that later)-en route to El Calafate.

Chris and I had planned on taking the bus, a twenty hour jaunt involving multiple crossings over the Chilean and Argentine border. We had tried to book a LADE flight to Ushaia while we were in Buenos Aires, but the airline (if you want to call it that) is in many ways a myth. Most travelers have heard of it, but found no success booking tickets. In our case, the woman working the desk in BA informed us that the flight schedule wouldn’t be released until March 1st-not very reassuring considering that we wanted to depart on the 3rd.

So we made our way towards the bus station yesterday, our faces grim with the prospect of 20 hours on a bus that lacked the amenities of the fantastic “Suite VIP” we enjoyed on the way to Iguazu. On a whim, we decided to check in at LADE, and as luck would have it…two spots to El Calafate for today, for about 35 dollars more than the bus. So here I am sitting on the plane, typing away as the props buzz in my ear.

Now on to our experience in Ushaia. The town is making a serious push to attract tourism, with luxury hotels sprouting up across the landscape. We arrived on Tuesday afternoon, and checked into our hostel, which was chock full of Israelis. Literally: in a room of eight, Chris and I were the only people without a Star of David on our passports.

Back to thoughts on Ushaia. The city bills itself as the most southern in the world, hoping to attract adventure seekers and folks who want another notch on their “I did [insert backpacking location]” belt. And that’s cool; I was into it too, just a bit.

But therein lies the problem-you arrive only to feel like you’re in just another sprawling, unkempt South American city. There aren’t the feelings of excitement and exclusivity you would associate with being at the bottom of the world, at least not when you’re walking down main street past the casino, tourist shops, and various jewelry vendors.

Most passenger ships to Antarctica depart from Ushaia. The large, gleaming vessels beckon from the port. Somewhat naively, Chris and I had agreed that if we found one of the last minute deals for less than 2000 dollars, we would jump on it. Of course, that number was barely half of the best fare available, so we had to live vicariously through the Israeli girl in the hostel who had made the trip. I’ll be back someday.

Our short stay here was marked by a couple of pleasant hikes in the area-nothing too strenous, as we’ll be saving that for our time in Torres del Paine next week. Enjoy the photos!

And that’s it! Stay tuned for more one month old “updates” from my Patagonian adventure, coming soon to a computer screen near you!

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