El Fin Del Mundo

    Looking out the window of our plane I get a chance to view the Andes for the first time. My mind drifts off into the great wide open and the up-coming opportunity to wander through a foreign wilderness. I have seen so many images and have read the writings of many explorer’s of the infamous Patagonia landscape, but now I get the chance to experience it for myself.
    We land mid-afternoon into the port town of Ushuaia in Argentina, the farthest southern city in South America. The air is brisk and the wind is persistent. Small islands and jagged rock formations break up the land in this area, making it hard for ships and vessels to navigate their way through. A massive ship has taken its final rest in the rocky shoreline right next to where cruise ships pick up tourists on their way to Antarctica. The cost of one of the Antarctica excursions starts around $3500 US for a 10-day trip, needless to say that this is out of Paul’s and my budget.
    Toothy mountain peaks surround the city of Ushuaia and the remains of glaciers that at one point in time dominated the area. The traveler’s here are of a different breed than the one’s in the beach towns. Male travelers with long hair and beards are commonplace, fitted in different quality and colors of outer ware depending on their budget and length of time traveling. The women are a little more rough and thick around the edges, not the bikini totting girls running through the streets of Brazil. The age of travelers is much older here in Ushuaia, I’m guessing because many are rich retired folks waiting to board a ship to Antarctica. The Locals and traveling Argentinians are easily spotted by the gourds of mate that they carry with them everywhere they go.
    Mate is such a huge part of the Argentina culture. Here is an excerpt from Fire Walking to give you a better idea of Mate’s tradition:
        “Mate is an infusion prepared by steeping dried, chopped and ground leaves of yerba mate . . . in hot water. It became widely used for referring to the calabash gourd used for that infusion. Its high caffeine content makes this drink, like tea, coffee or chocolate, a strong stimulant.
As the act of drinking mate entails the intake of a great deal of water, it also serves as a purifying infusion, and through its antioxidant elements it protects the body. Traditionally, it is drunk hot by means of a metal straw – that also acts as a sieve – directly from the gourd. It can be drunk bitter or sweet.
Everybody, from the humble to the rich, has the habit of drinking mate. Even in the way it is prepared – a ritual in itself – mate is characterized by its uniqueness. Unlike tea or coffee, served in individual cups, mate represents a whole different process when it comes to brewing it.
There is a long list of rules and traditions that apply to brewing and enjoying mate, too long to be fully included in this introduction. Among the most relevant: The infusion is served around a circle during the ‘mateada’, a gathering for drinking mate. The pourer, usually the host, drinks up the first mate, until air is drawn from the metal straw. Then the pourer subsequently refills the gourd and passes it to the next drinker in the circle – with the straw in his direction – who likewise drinks it all, without thanking the pourer. The ritual proceeds around the circle in this fashion until the mate becomes lavado (washed out or flat).
The fact that the straw is shared makes the mate-drinking experience a unique one, and specially intimate, so intimate that some people compare drinking mate to kissing. For that reason, mate is not shared with just anybody, quite the opposite. You share that experience with people you care about, because in sharing mate, you share your soul, and you do that just with relatives, close friends or your significant other. Without a doubt, mate is more than a drink; it is an element of union, a symbol of trust, friendship and intimacy among those who share it.”
    In a way, the mate tradition is a rite of passage. The plant is native to Argentina, Paraguay and parts of Brazil, where more mate is consumed per year than mineral water. Back home I went through a pretty big mate kick and traveling to its origin has re-inspired my love for mate. It is a great jump start to my day and gives me more of an even buzz than coffee, never making me shaky or crash after the buzz wears off. Mate will be my sidekick while hiking around the Andes.
    Paul and I headed to a close-by trail-head to a glacier via taxi to get some fresh air and see the town from a higher vantage point. It wasn’t long before I realized that I would need to purchase some outer ware . . . fast. We hiked into a pretty bitter headwind up a valley to the base of a mountain and Martial Glacier. The last kilometer or so to the glacier proved to be quite strenuous, very steep with loose rocks and gravel. We snapped some pictures and quickly made our way back down the mountain because sundown was approaching. Being so far south, the sun doesn’t set until around 9pm and it isn’t completely dark until about 10pm, so we made it down and back to town with time to spare. My loafers proved to be inadequate making my arches and legs much sorer than need be for the ease of that hike. Tomorrow I will buy some gear for our time in Patagonia.
   Ushuaia is filled with tasty and affordable restaurants serving up freshly caught king crab or lamb and beef harvested in the nearby pastures. There seems to be an outer-ware store for every five travelers. Having been roaming the beaches of Brazil for the past two and half months, I decided not to bring cold weather gear. I spent the better part of the day tracking down under-armor, a water/wind proof jacket and pants and a pair of hiking shoes. The gear is less expensive than the states but not by much, so it was a pretty expensive day.
    I got my first taste of winter as the rest of the afternoon was filled with rainstorms and high winds. I hiked for a bit in the rain to test my new waterproof gear, satisfied I popped into a coffee shop for a cup of Joe listening to the sounds of the espresso machine as I read my new book on trekking around the wilderness in Ushuaia.
    The next day we woke early and caught a bus ride and a boat to Penguin Island. Penguins moved to the side as our boat pulled up to the shore. A quick jump off the boat and I find myself surrounded by a huge Penguin colony. I felt like I was in a scene from “Happy Feet”. The only rule was no touching the penguins, but we were able to get within arms length of the fuzzy little guys. We took some photos imitating the penguins and then walked around the colony checking out their habitat and their nesting sites. Most of the footage I’ve seen of penguins has been on ice, but the island we visited was lush and green. Our guide informed us that the majority of penguins live in these types of environments, but the penguins that live in Antarctica and other icy environments get the most amount of coverage. Penguins are curious and unique animals; I can see why people dedicate their lives to studying them.
    Our last day in Ushuaia we went for a hike that started out kind of lame walking down a fire road. The trail opened up into the back country where we found a field filled with peat moss. The peat moss was extremely spongy but would reform after stepping on it, probably where the idea for memory foam came from. We ran into a group of free-roaming horses, I don't think they were wild because they had brands, but they were out in the middle of nowhere. The horses were much more curious in our whereabouts than domesticated horses, I took a couple photos thinking of my niece Terra, who loves riding horses. We headed back before sundown to get some rest for our 18 hour bus ride at 5am the next morning to El Calafate. Here begins the start of many long bus rides working our way from the southern point of Argentina to Ecuador and Columbia.

Uruguay - Punta Del Este

    Spending an average of two nights in hostels is starting to take its toll. I find myself waking up confused on where I am sometimes because we switch locations so rapidly. I miss my bed back home, especially when I lay awake listening to the random person snoring or being constantly woken up by people as they get home late from partying or people waking up early talking to each other as they pack their bags to leave. Having just lived 3 years in a house mostly by myself, it has been very challenging to live amongst strangers in mixed dorms of 6-12 people. A comfortable bed, a restful nights sleep and a clean bathroom have become treasures on my journey . . . seldom do I get the combination of all three. Okay, enough whining for now.
    Off to Uruguay and a popular beach town called Punta Del Este for our last tropical beach experience for a couple months. A catamaran takes us from Buenos Aires to Colonia in Uruguay where we catch a 5 hour bus ride to Punta Del Este. Driving into town I am shocked at how upscale Punta Del Este is. It is like the Miami Beach of South America. We arrive around sunset and catch our bearings at a restaurant close to the bus station.
    Every new Country we visit means that we have to get used to a new currency. Uruguay is particularly difficult to get used because you get 20 pesos for $1 US. Punta Del Este is expensive, so things seem ridiculously over-priced until you do the math, then they become just over-priced. I am still waiting on visiting Countries where the US dollar is very valuable. So far, Argentina is the best with the currency exchanging at 4 to 1, but things are still pricey (dinner on average $15-20, hostel on average $20/night). I hear Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador are the Countries where the US dollar has the highest value.
    We arrive after sundown at our hostel and sit down to plan out our trip to Patagonia. We are disappointed to find out that we have to fly out in two days in order to get a good deal on airfare. So, we have roughly two days in Uruguay and then it’s off to Patagonia. The best time to visit Patagonia is January to February, I am anxious to get down there so we don’t run into bad weather.
     We meet up with some Chilean’s from Santiago who invite us to go with them to an Island. We stock up on food and water and take a ferry across to a small Island where lot’s of people go to hang out on the beach for the day. The rules aren’t the same as in the US, so jet ski’s, boats and yachts are scattered just off the shore, swimming distance from the beach. I watch the families lounging on their very extravagant yachts and daydream of one day owning or being good friends with someone who owns a yacht.
    Back on the mainland, Paul and I spot a rotating restaurant 20 stories high looking over the town and pop in for a beer and some snacks. During the high times (no pun intended) our conversations are very optimistic with talks of the ambitions we have for our trip and reminiscing on the good times already had. During the times of unrest, long travel days, getting ripped off or just a plain bad mood conversations tend to be less optimistic with talks of ending the trip early or no talking at all . . . silence. Having been friends with Pablo for so long, I never have to worry about jeopardizing our friendship with an argument or a bout of silence while working things out in my head.
    Everywhere we go, people seem to want to stay out late and party. The time of when the night gets started keeps getting later and later. In Uruguay, some of the nightclubs don’t open until 2am. I have thrown in the towel on going out for a while. I don’t understand how staying up until the sun rises doesn’t take its toll on other traveler’s. The lack of sleep carry’s over days at a time for me, I am content on playing some cards or dominoes and falling asleep at a reasonable hour so I can wake up to enjoy a full day of activities.
    We spend our last day in Uruguay at the beach. The wind is very extreme, but the water is surprisingly warm. The Atlantic has been good to me on this trip, I will say goodbye to it in Ushuaia where both the Pacific and Atlantic converge and where I break away to the Andes for some trekking.
   

Iguazu Falls

Quick stop back in Floripa from Vitoria via airplane which saved us 30 plus hours of busing and then its off to Iguazu falls. In Floripa, Paul and I stayed at a hostel perched on the side of a hill overlooking a lagoon, great place to spend a rainy day playing cards with our Aussie friends. I put in a good amount of beach time playing volleyball and bodysurfing before we head away from the coast to Iguazu and Buenos Aires. Brazil has been good to me. I am going to miss the beach life but at the same time I am anxious to head to Southern Argentina to do some trekking in Patagonia.
    Marty and Ben (Our Aussie friends we met in Rio) are a blast to hang with. They are jokesters and lay on the sarcasm pretty thick, which makes it fun to watch them interact with locals and other traveler's because often times they are misunderstood creating a good amount of awkwardness. For some reason, the Aussie accent comes off as gibberish to people from all around the World. I would act as a translator for Marty when people couldn't understand him.
    The average traveling age seems to be between 20-24, or at least that is the average age of people staying in hostels. At 27, I don't feel old, but when I tell people my age, they often respond with "oh wow, I thought you were younger than that". I have reached the age where people will compliment me by saying I look younger rather than older.
    We took an overnight bus to the lazy town of Iguazu and accidentally stayed on the bus too long and ended up in Paraguay. After our unexpected brief journey to Paraguay we checked into our hostel and headed for the falls. There are two sides to the falls; the Brazilian side and the Argentinian side. The Brazilian side offers a vantage point from across the river allowing for a view of the entire falls. The amount of water flowing down Iguazu is unbelievable. Pictures can't capture the vastness or the energy that is Iguazu. It is hard to see parts of the falls because of the mist that is created from the turbulence from the water crashing into the river below. There are metal walkways that go out above the river where I could get up and close with the falls, getting drenched by the mist as I took pictures with my waterproof camera.
    The next day, I said goodbye to Brazil and headed across the boarder to Argentina. No more acai but plenty of yerba mate (the Countries popular energetic tea). It is nice to be in a Spanish speaking Country, I can know communicate easier with the locals. Our first day in Argentina we chilled out in our hostel and caught up on some reading and rest as downpours of rain came and went.
    The Argentinian side of Iguazu is a much larger and interactive. We hiked through the jungle taking pictures of coati (a strange looking animal that looks like a cross between an anteater and a raccoon), lizards and butterflies. The walkways went all around the falls, from up above looking down to right up close and personal. We took a 20 minute action packed boat ride that positioned the boat right under parts of the falls giving everyone on board a free shower.
    The highlight of Iguazu is 'The Devil's Throat'. This is the main place where river converges, and there is a metal boardwalk that provides a perfect vantage point for viewing the falls. There are gusty patches of wind that would blow the mist from the falls onto the onlookers, cooling everyone off and ruining cameras of people dumb enough to be taking pictures with so much water in the air. I took some pictures with my waterproof camera, but the pictures don't capture the feeling of seeing 'The Devil's Throat' in person.
 

Buenos Aires

Boca Futbol Match- My first soccer game. Such high energy!

Local Flavors

Vintage Mate Gourds

My favorite restaurant that we luckily stumbled upon

    Booking flights and buses in Brazil proved to be a pain in the ass. If you are not a citizen of Brazil, then you have to physically go to the airport or bus-station rather than being able to purchase tickets online. Paul and I found ourselves wasting away much time trying to track down tickets to our next location. In Argentina we bought tickets online to Buenos Aires from an airport that we thought was in Argentina, but after closer examination the day of our departure we realized the flight left from Paraguay . . . shit!
    We scrambled to get our bags packed and hailed a cab to take us to the airport. Back through Brazil and then into Paraguay where the immigration official told us that we had to pay for a visa to enter Paraguay. We both knew he was lying, especially since he was whispering about how much the visa would cost us. We haggled with him and negotiated the price down from 200 pesos each ($50) to 2oo pesos total. We crossed the boarder cursing Paraguay and ourselves for not looking closer at our flight itinerary. At the airport, three other officials spent time examining our passports, making phone calls and eventually letting us board the plane. We thought the extra unanticipated costs were over with until we landed in Argentina only to find out that we had to pay $140 to enter the Country via international flight. I tried my best to explain that we were in Argentina earlier that day, but my efforts were to no avail and we ended up paying for the visa.
    I had a bit of a sour taste in my mouth from our extra taxes and fees getting to BA (Buenos Aires), but was quickly distracted by the fine dinner of red wine and steak we indulged ourselves in for less than $20 US. Back at our hostel we heard numerous horror stories of people getting robed, making us pay extra attention to our whereabouts while in BA. I figured out a tactic that proved to be quite affective while traveling through Brazil. If I feel in danger or feel that as if someone is sizing me up for a potential robbery I initiate what I call ‘Crack Eye’s’. I repeatedly open my eye’s wide and look around like I am a crazy person while shaken my hands by my side or clenching my fists. I don’t know if this strategy works but I figure a robber is looking for an easy target, so anything I can do that would make them think otherwise might deter them from robbing me. I can thank the countless ‘weirdos’ that live in Santa Cruz for this idea.
    Paul and I spent our days walking about the city, taking the underground subway to different districts and exploring the huge city of Buenos Aires. I saw my first movie since I left for S. America, it was nice to get a little taste of US culture. The old town district of San Telmo was my favorite part of BA. San Telmo has cobblestone streets with lot’s of shops and local artists with paintings of the architecture of BA. Driven  by hunger we lucked out and found a great restaurant where I had a great beet salad, steak and potatoes. The restaurant served the type of high quality meat that everyone keeps talking about in Argentina.
    Allow there are great steaks and wine in BA, the rest of the food we found below average. Traveling has made me realize how lucky I am to live in Santa Cruz where there is a diversity of food choices and many places to get healthy organic fruits and vegetables. I crave some veggies, it seems that every meal in Argentina consists of white bread and meat or white bread and cheese. The free breakfasts at the hostels consists of coffee and croissants with jam and butter . . . not a fan.
    Some Australian blokes that were staying at our hostel told us about a Flamenco show right next door. The Flamenco show was in a basement type restaurant with the smell of hookah as we made our way down the stairs. There are a lot of tango and Flamenco shows advertised at the hostels, we lucked out and stumbled upon one where we were the only gringos. We ordered a bottle of Malbec from Mendoza and sat back to enjoy our first Flamenco show. A guitarist and two singers started the show. I was instantly amazed by the passion with which the music was played. One of the singers sat on a box drum slamming a fast rhythm as he wailed his heart out. He reminded me of Antonio Banderas. Next a guy and girl stepped up on the small stage and started dancing with the music playing along to the beat with their hard-heeled shoes. Each had a solo dance performance along with partner dancing. The woman seemed as if she was having an out-of-body experience letting the music move her body in rapid and fascinating ways. I was thoroughly impressed by the performance, feeling fortunate to have witnessed such an organic expression of music and dnace.
    Our last day in BA I got to go to my first soccer game. The popular team from BA, Boca Juniors played another team from Argentina in the first game of the season. The Argentineans really care about their team; the energy in the stadium almost matched the intensity of The World Series. The fans were all on the same page with the entire stadium singing in unison the chants of Boca. They sang and sang, even after they went down 2-0 into halftime. Anytime people started to shout negative comments towards the team, the crowd would shush them. There were some great plays and passes by Boca, but many opportunities were blown and Boca only produced 1 goal. The opposing team seemed to have no problem putting the ball into the back of the net, they scored 4 goals embarrassing Boca on opening day. I told Paul maybe they should change their name to Choka.

Vitoria

    Back to Rio and back to Che Lagarto Hostel in Ipanema. It is comforting to re-visit a place, knowing where the best eats and hang-outs are. Paul arrived last night and I am excited to join up with him for the rest of my South American adventure. I find him sleeping off the plane ride, but decide to wake him up for a jump in the ocean. We have known each other since pre-school, so it doesn't take long to get back to the basics. Paul came bearing gifts from home: a new book from my mom, my laptop, a waterproof camera, some extra bottles of sunscreen, and best of all, a volleyball.
    We head down to the beach and pepper with the volleyball as we catch up on each others lives over the past couple months. Each of us left a lot behind in the States, we live good lives, and this journey will have many twists and turns both good and bad, but one thing is for sure, it will be quite an adventure.
    I happily act as guide through the streets of Rio. After a night at Che, we move hostels to a sweet place called Bonita. There is a nice lounge area and a swimming pool that should have signs 'swim at your own risk . . . mangoes'. Every so often, there is a big splash as a large ripe mango falls from the tree above into the pool. We made a couple new Australian friends traveling from Melbourne at the end of their 9 month journey, it is cool to ask them about their experiences in the places that we plan to visit.
    A couple nights in Rio and Paul trusts my judgment on visiting a non-tourist type of destination called Vitoria, 8 hours North of Rio by bus. We take our first of many overnight buses together and pay for the executive bus (twice the price) in order to get a good night of sleep. Both of us cannot sleep at all and we decide not to pay for the executive bus the next time. We arrive around 7 in the morning in Vitoria sleepy-eyed and didn't plan ahead on where to stay. There are no cheap hostels in Vitoria, so we go to a expensive hotel and hack into their internet to try and find a place to stay. It is Saturday morning, so none of my friends from Vitoria are awake. After we stretch out a long breakfast in the hotel, we finally reach a friend who invites to stay at his house with his mom, we gladly accept.
    Leandro picks us up and we drive over the highest bridge in Brazil to an Island where he lives. His mom, Eleane, greets us and shows us our room. We chat for awhile, and trying not to be rude when we hint about how tired we are. They get the point and show us our beds where we crash out for a couple of hours of much needed rest. We wake up to a prepared lunch of pasta and salad. Eleane makes it her business to feed us breakfast, lunch and dinner during our whole stay which we are very thankful for. Then it's off to the beach with Leandro. The beach is very windy, so we don't stay long, time to prepare for Samba.
    Leandro takes us to a local bar that plays live Samba in the streets as we pass around the local beer. Ramon shows up, another friend I made while traveling in Bahia and then we are introduced to Brazilian after Brazilian, trying to get their names right at least once. I realize that Portuguese will not become my second language on this trip, which makes me really look forward to taking on Spanish once we leave Brazil. Brazilian's love to party, which means they never seem to want to go to sleep. Paul and I are guests of Leandro's, so we are forced to stay out close to morning every night, until Leandro is ready to call it quits.
    Paul and I joked that our stay in Vitoria made us feel like little kids again. We had no key to the house we were staying at, no car, no access to food, so we relied on our Vitoria friends to keep us entertained, well-fed and occasionally rested. Eleane made us a bunch of spectacular meals, including muaceca, a fish dish local to the area of Vitoria.
    One day we would roll out to a beach many kilometers away with local drum music and partying in the streets. The next, we went off to a secluded beach with Rayessa and Fernanda and had fresh crab for close to nothing (the only thing that wasn't expensive in Brazil). My favorite night was a Carnival Samba practice, where a bunch of youth from town and a huge crew of drummer's, singer's, and dancer's played live samba as everyone danced and sang along to the songs. It was such high energy, and Paul and I seemed to be the only gringo's, I was glad to see a tiny glimpse of what carnival might be.
    Leandro took us out for a day of longboard skateboarding by the beach, then to watch a sunset at the University overlooking the mountains and lake surrounding the town of Vitoria. On our way to check out the sunset, we drove by some friends of Leandro's and they told us to follow them. Next thing I know, we roll up on a beach soccer court, where we play 5 on 5 to 4. I scored a goal on Paul, and Paul scored a goal off a corner kick with a header into the top corner of the goal. It felt good to play soccer and made me want to improve my skills. Maybe I'll start up a soccer league when I get back to SC.
    All in all, our Vitoria friends showed us a great time, keeping us on the move from the moment we arrived until we hoped on a plane to Floripa. We went to see a live Samba, Folha, Jazz, Carnival Samba, Portuguese Free-styling and live drumming. I kept telling my Vitoria friends to come visit me in Santa Cruz if they ever get a chance and I will show them the hospitality that they showed Paul and I. Vitoria was not on my list of places to visit in Brazil, but it was an unexpected great time, not so much because of the place but because of the friends we made during our stay.