Río Tres Brazos

Ushuaia to Puerto Natales

The 5.15am coach to Punta Arenas was on time but we were early, so we waited in the cold at the shut-up bus station in Ushuaia for about 25 minutes - we had spotted a taxi at the top of the hill near to our apartment, although we had had to knock on the car window to wake the lady driver. "Disculpe" did the trick though. At least we hadn't had to walk. We had been on our way for just ten minutes when the coach came to a standstill - it had got stuck on the hill in the snow. We weren't even out of the Ushuaia boundary at this point. An hour of tapping and shunting and boiling of hot water for tea by the 'Chuckle Brothers' as we named the driver and his mate, and a further half hour for them to summon a replacement bus, and we were finally on the move again, through a very snowy and very hilly landscape - a bit dark for photos, but I captured some interesting lighting effects with the sunrise which caused the snow on the mountains to turn a delicate shade of pink. We also passed by a large lake - steel grey next to a golden sky and snow streaked hills.

A particular ambition of mine is to take a good picture of a road-side shrine (sad I know). There are many different types - wooden shed like affairs, white stone chapel-shaped ones, even model village style groups of shrines. They can be decorated with flowers or have offerings of food and water ranged around them. We had also noticed that a lot of them were decorated with red flags, so we looked for an explanation on google and found the following tale:
In the 1840s a Robin Hood type figure called Gauchito Gil was going around Argentina robbing the rich and giving to the poor. Just before his beheading for his 'crimes', he told the executioner that if he went ahead and killed him, his son would be stricken by a deadly illness, and that the only way to save him would be to give Gauchito a proper burial. Legend is that this came true, and ever since, the Argentinian people (and the Chileans) have built shrines to his memory and hung them with red flags (either to represent his blood, or his political leanings).

Travel continued again through a pretty barren landscape, but this time with views of the sea, as we hugged the East coast as far as Rio Grande where we were to change for Punta Arenas. Our planned, leisurely, 3-hour breakfast had now become a 'snatch and grab' pastry and tea from the station cafe, but just a few more hours and we were at the border with Chile at San Sebastián. Prior to arriving, we had been given forms to fill in, in preparation for crossing into Chile. I had (I think quite reasonably) thought that leaving Argentina and entering Chile were one and the same thing, but apparently this is not the case. You leave the bus, to enter a building, to give in your passport, just to leave Argentina. There is then a journey across a 'no man's land' to the border with Chile where the bus assistant (having obsessively shuffled and sorted the forms) goes into Border Control. You await his return before again leaving the bus. You enter the building to have your passport checked off against the list created by the forms and are given a visa, before everything is unloaded off the coach, including your checked luggage which you then put through a scanner for customs. Add in a biting, arctic, gale force wind tunnel in the unloading bay between passport control and customs, and you get a vision of pain, and that is before the 2 hour wait for the woman escorted to Customs for bringing in too much food - fresh fruit and veg had to be offloaded (or eaten) before entering the new country, or (as we were advised on a later border-hopping trip) carried in coat pockets because border control don't check! This did lead to a 'hairy' moment on said trip when a dog came down the line jumping up and sniffing. Luckily, the 'sniffer dog' turned out to be a 'border pet'.

We could tell we had finally entered Chile because the road had turned to a dirt track. It did eventually improve to a very narrow concrete road (you could feel the draught and the threat of oncoming traffic) until a sign saying 'FIN DE CAMINO' or 'End of the Road'. We had reached a *body of water*, and the road had became a slipway for a vehicle ferry. We had just missed one ferry, so briefly got out of the coach for a bit of 'fresh air', or a battle to remain standing against the gale. The next ferry couldn't fit us on (too many trucks). So, third time lucky. We were instructed to walk onto the ferry, where we sat in closed-in side areas, whilst LARGE waves crashed (making beautiful salt patterns) against the windows!

*The area of water that separates Tierrra del Fuego from mainland Chile*

Just a 'few more hours' and we eventually arrived in Punta Arenas around 8pm. A quick dash in the dark and rain with our bags, via a couple of hotels for directions, and we were in a lovely, traditional, very cosy and warm, and quite grand hotel, just off the main Plaza de Armas. Our balconied window was in sight and sound of the bell tower of the main church. In under an hour we were eating one of the best meals of the trip in a French restaurant nearby - guanaco! for me and beef for Chris, with delicious merlot and a shared trio of flans, including calafate berries (a national seasonal delicacy).

The following morning, after a quick tour of the banks to get cash (money is a whole other blog!), a photographic circuit of the Plaza, and a church visit, we were off again - on the 12.30 (las doce y media) coach to Puerto Natales, our ultimate destination for the next few days, to see the glaciers and the wildlife.Read more