More pictures

[Beach rocks on Valdez Peninsula]

[The view of the glacial lake, Lago Argentino, around El Calafate]

[Perito Moreno glacier from a distance]

[View from the perfect campsite at Lago Roca]

[Self timer while completing my travel log at Lago Roca campsite.  Not intended to be a still life but nonetheless looks considerably more posed than I intended.  Probably one of the best moments of my trip.]

[Perito Moreno glacier from half-way up Cerro Crystale.]

[The entrance to the beautiful village of El Chalten.  Little did we know that this was the clearest view of Fitz Roy (tallest peak in the background) we would get during our three days there.]

[Holy glacial landscape!  Hiking our first day in El Chalten.  On the way to Laguna de los Torres]





[Self timer lakeside]

[Equally beautiful scenery the next day on the way to Tres Lagos outside of El Chalten.]

[Back in the desert.  The beautiful canyon at Cueva de Las Manos.]



[7,000 year old cave paintings.  There are hands of all sizes and in many colors and, as you can see, at all heights on the rock.  Dating of the paint shows that this artistic or spiritual traditions continued for thousands of years.]



[The only six fingered hand]

[More of the beautiful canyon.]

[The second petrified forest.]

[More trees turned to stone.]

[Beer sampler at the microbrewery in El Bolson.  Yum!]

Extra, extra! Read all about it....

That's right, folks.  I am back in Boston.  And now that I can post to my heart's delight, please enjoy some pictures from my adventures (more to come in the days ahead).


[Most beaches on the eastern coast of Argentina weren't sandy...]



[CG swings beachward at Punta Bermeja]



[Sea lions on Peninsula Valdez-- noisier and smellier than I ever thought they'd be]

[Penguins!  Peninsula Valdez]

[Lots of penguins!]











[Me at the dinosaur museum in Trelew.... probably the very moment when someone was breaking into the car and stealing all of my stuff.  Ignorance is bliss, I guess.]

[More penguins at Dos Bahias]

[We had to step over the penguins on the "human walkway."]

[The first petrified forest.  The mountain in the distance is an old volcano called Madre e Hijo-- mother and child]

[Camping on a high mesa outside the petrified forest]

[Guanacos, Patagonian camels, outside of the petrified forest]



[The coast near Puerto San Julian.  Magellan is thought to have arrived here in the 1540s.]



[Parque Nacional Monte Leon-- where penguins hide under walkways]

More to come....

Blame it on Karen.....

Please excuse the silence.  I have been having a grand old time with my buddy Karen.  We've known each other since 1992, and apparently we still haven't run out of things to talk about.  I just put her on the airport shuttle.  I have plans to dine with Graciela and friends in a couple of hours, so I thought I'd finish up some travel stories.

It's hard to believe that it was week and a day ago that CG and found overselves on the last day before having to return the rental car in Buenos Aires.  We woke up in the town of San Luis-- about 200,000 people and so unlike previous cities.  We could tell we were returning from the southern part of the country (which is mostly rural and desert or mountains) to the argicultural and industrial north.

Way back in Comodoro Rivadavia (the place I replaced most of my clothes with school boy uniforms), we took a rock to the windshield from a passing truck.  The ensuing crack grew and grew during our trip.  We knew we would have to pay the car rental agency to replace it but we figured we would wait until the end of the trip to work out the details.  Here are the highly entertaining (insert sarcasm here) steps involved in trying to get a windshield fixed in Argentina:

1.) Find the automobile club and ask if they know any places that replace windshields. 
2.) Automobile club employee thinks this is beyond his call of duty but reluctantly divulges name of car windshield replacement shop.
3.) Car windshield replacement shop is located but there is no parking nearby.  Park a half a block away.  Enter shop.  Ask about windshield repair (not possible) and replacement.  They want to see the car.  The car is too far away for them to walk and look at.
4.) Replacement shop insinuates that the rental agency will make us pay too much money if they bring it back to them.  They also think we might have paid insurance for windshield replacement.  They give us a quote but recommend that we call the rental agency.
5.) Find call center and try to call rental agency.  Rental agency doesn't pick up.  I pay US$2 while I "wait for an operator to assist me."
6.) Car rental agency tells us it will cost US$280 plus the time the car is out of service to fix.  The replacement shop quoted us US$190.
7.) Return to replacement shop.  They cannot replace the windshield before 7 pm.  We have to be in Buenos Aires (450 miles away) before nightfall.  The replacement shop owner tells us we're screwed.  I realize that I actually do know some slang in Castellano.  Good for me.
8.) CG and I hit the road, dreading the interaction with the rental agency upon return.

The long, straight trip back to Buenos Aires was without incident.  We split the driving down the middle and managed on about a tank of gas.  It's amazing how little fuel we used when we weren't on dirt roads and driving straight up the sides of mountains.  As we approached Buenos Aires, the roads turned into multi-lane highways, the air got hazy and the drivers got crazy.  This is what the Lonely Planet says about driving in Buenos Aires:  "Anyone considering driving in BA should know that most local drivers are reckless, aggressive and even willfully dangerous.  They ignore speed limits, road signs, lines, and traffic signals.  They'll tailgate mercilessly and honk even before signals turn green.  Buses are a nightmare to reckon with, potholes are everywhere, traffic is a pain and parking can be a bitch.  Pedestrians seem to beg to be run over at times."  I drove.  It made me feel like I was back in Boston.

My very sweet brother gifted us a night at the Buenos Aires Hilton because I couldn't get into my apartment until Saturday morning.  Our arrival at the five star Hilton was deserving of an academy award.  The outside of our car was covered in 3 inches of red, thick mud.  The inside was filled with wood for campfires (collected from dead trees at the side of roads), semi-rotten foods in decrepit cardboard boxes, and unwashed clothes from 5 weeks on the road.  Something inside the car smelled funny and despite trying several times to locate the offending item, I could not.  In retrospect, the smell might have been me!

We parked at the curb outside the hotel.  No bellhop or valet approached the car.  I worried that they might deny us entry into the hotel.  The lobby was full of folks in black tie.  As the song goes "Two of these kids are not like the others...."  CG stayed in the car and I approached the check in desk with trepidation.  But, in the end, they welcomed us like any other customers (nevermind that they pinched their noses as we walked by).  We apologized profusely and left the car with a very confused valet.  The luxury of the place was amazing after 5 weeks in the car.  Welcome back to Buenos Aires!!

Saturday was a rush to return the rental car before 2 pm.  We managed to get into my apartment, empty the car (yuck), find a place to unload a backseat full of campfire wood, get the car cleaned inside and out, and negotiate with the car rental agency over the cracked windshield.  The rental place replaced the windshield and charged us only slightly more than the shop in San Luis.  It was a good deal.

So, after 30 days and 10858 kms (6786 miles), I was back on my two feet in Buenos Aires and ready for Karen's arrival!

Where was I??

Wait, wait!  Backwards for a minute:  CG reminded me that I forgot to tell the story of our run-in with the National Guard.  On the road between Malargue (which, by the way, was filled with an unnatural number of folks on bikes-- easily the bike capital of Argentina) and San Rafael, we passed through a checkpoint.  We've gone through dozens of check points in our journey.  We stopped a least 10 times heading south to be inspected for transport of meat and certain fruits and vegetables.  We knew that drill.  Once, we sat at the side of the checkpoint and quickly ate two red peppers so as not to waste them.  This, done with permission, amused the employees greatly.  We also passed through police check points and often were waved on once it was discovered we were foreign tourists.  Leaving Rio Gallegos, a police officer asked me where I was coming from.   Not understanding if he meant my home country or where I had driven from that day, I stumbled.  "Oh!" he said.  "You don't understand anything.  Just drive on through."  Hmph.  For once, I was annoyed not to be questioned by the police.  Another time, leaving the town of Los Antiguos near the Chilean border, the police officer wrote down my name and passport number.  That was the most intense scrutiny we had experienced.

Between Malargue and San Rafael, we were stopped by a National Guardsman.  He asked us our nationality and to see our car rental papers.  Then he asked me to pull over and open the trunk.  After opening the truck and inspecting our garbage bag (yuck!), he asked CG to step out and indicated that he would search the passenger compartment.  He then systematically removed all personal items from the side pockets, glove compartment and our bags and sniffed everything. 

It was all I could do to keep from laughing.  He picked the wrong folks to sniff-- everything we owned smelled of slightly turned perishable food, campfire, or old sweat.  Most amusing parts?  1.) CG had a tiny empty liquor bottle in the pocket of his rain jacket which he uses as a safety whistle-- blow hard across the top one of those things and you can make your car companion's ears ring for an hour!  Both CG and I looked at that, then looked at the guardsman's face and snickered silently.  And I wonder why Canadians have a reputation for being big drinkers....  2.) The guy found an Altoids container in my purse which was filled with.... yes, Altoids.  Sniff, sniff.  Smells like peppermint, looks like peppermint.  It must be... peppermint candies!!  How confusing for this guy.  In the end, he didn't smell anything that interested him and waved us on.  CG and I got in the car and laughed for several kilometers.  I'm thinking he'll consider it twice before sniffing around a car camper's vehicle again....

Back in the U.S.S.R.

Okay.  So it isn´t Soviet Russia.  It is Buenos Aires.  And I feel like this is home... kind of.

Since I last wrote, we spent an amazing afternoon at a dinosaur museum and palentological site.  The ride to the site was long, boring, dusty and BUMPY.  I could not imagine such a trip would be worthwhile.  Seriously.  I care almost nothing for dinosaurs but I loved this place.  It is an active excavation site where you can pay to dig amongst the dinosaur bones.  We decided not to dig, partly because we did not have a lot of time but also because I did not think I would be interested in it.  The site, museum, and excavation are surrounded by natural gas wells and nothing else.  The rock in this particular area is red, red, red.  I think I might still have some red dust on my shoes.  We took a guided one hour tour with Gastòn.  He knew his stuff.  I was entranced.  Dinosaurs are more interesting than I ever thought.  And the best part was that the entire tour was in Spanish.  I thought my comprehension was quite good until CG pointed out that most dinosaur words are Latin.... same in English as in Spanish.  Oh well.

After dinosaurs, we traveled on dirt roads to the lovely little town of Chos Malal.  We arrived late and it was cold.  I impressed on CG the need to stay in a hotel.  We ate goat at a tenedor libre (all you can eat buffet).  Yeah.  I ate a little goat... and I kind of liked it. 

The next day was rainy and gray.  I would have liked to sit in front of a crackling fire and read... but no such luck in a place like Chos Malal.  We endured and found the least helpful tourism office we have come across since arriving in Argentina.  The woman at the office basically discouraged us from traveling in the area.  Huh?  The roads are bad, she told us.  I might have snowed in the mountains, she warned us.  Finally CG suggested that we had already driven thousands of kilometers on bad dirt roads and that we could manage a little snow.  We pressed on into the mountains in search of hot springs.  We ascended and ascended, our little car worse for the wear.  We passed through some lovely little mountain villages-- so remote yet cheery.  We saw snaggletooths on the side of the road carrying their firewood on their backs.  It was kind of like I imagine the mountain villages in Nepal might be like.  The first set of hot springs included a rushing river of warmish water.  CG waited for the other tourists to leave and jumped in.  Out of fear for hypothermia, I stayed away.  Next to the steaming stream, we found a few geyers spraying into the air.  It was incredibly surreal.  We found hotter springs at another site higher up and cooked some hard boiled eggs inside of a little hole in the rocks-- 11 minutes until perfectly soft boiled.  And finally, we found some hot spring hot tubs where we relaxed before heading down the mountain and spending the night in a funny little village with a name I can't remember.  The day in the mountains amongst the strange "geothermal activity" was lonely and surreal and absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to show all of you the pictures.  (By the way, the "geothermal activity" stuff-- that's CG talking... not me.  I didn't know there was such a thing as geothermal activity until just recently.  Call me sheltered.)

The next day was a long day in the car.  Neither of us were very happy about sitting in the car and watching the flat countryside whizz past us....especially after hot springs!  We arrived in the bustling metropolis of San Rafael.  We stayed in a dirty campground with incessant dog barking.  It was a low point. 

Thursday was a new day and a new attitude.  We toured Canyon del Atuel which locals compare to the Grand Canyon.  The Grand Canyon it was not.  But the scenery was gorgeous and CG got a chance to kayak some rapids.  He even "went swimming" (aka the kayak flipped and he had to bail on the ride) and came back all jazzed about the experience.  I read my Kindle and watched some funny Argentines in their natural habitat.... call it the zoo, I guess.  We drove on to San Luis that evening and were surprised by mountains of traffic.  In retrospect, this was good preparation for arriving back in Buenos Aires.

Okay.  CG is getting bored watching me type.  To be continued at the next internet cafe.....

Swans, Flamingos, and Caves. Oh my!!

Saturday night is a blur of sleeping indoors, a real mattress, and a hot shower.  AR$180 for a night in a hotel was worth every centavo.  I only wore one pair of socks to bed.

We left Bariloche and headed north on Sunday morning.  We stopped at Las Cavernas de Cerro Leones (the Caves of Lion Mountain) which are privately owned and can only be visited by guided tour.  First off, we were in a tour group with an Argentine couple who could only be described as.... limited.  Okay.  They were dumb.  And they asked a million dumb questions and felt free to comment at every juncture.  At one point, the man announced that he "didn't like Brazil or Brazilians."  What?  Does that have anything to do with the formation of caves underneath this old volcano?  Anyway, being in a tour group with this couple made me feel so much better about all of the horrible American tourists I have run into during this trip.  We, as a nation, are not alone.

The tour of the caves was fascinating.  We visited three or four caves.  One which was used as a cemetery and is 55 degrees year-round.  Another cave had some interesting cave paintings which are not very well preserved.  The final cave had a corridor about 2 feet by 2 feet into a deeper part of the cavern.  Many of you may know that I am claustrophobic.  CG did not know this... but soon found out.  At first I balked about entering the deeper cavern, but with some encouragement, CG's pen light, and the chance to be the last in line, I managed to squeeze my way through the corridor and join the group on the other side.  The inner cavern was beautiful-- the roof was formed by a series of graceful arches.  There was an underground spring with potable water towards the back.  When the dingbats stopped talking for a short period of time, the cave was silent and musky (silent, save for my deep breathing exercises!).

We traveled further north via the Ruta de Siete Lagos (Road of the Seven Lakes) which showcased beautiful little lakes and villages.  We saw one head-on accident and stopped to help (CG can fix cars).  We breezed through the gorgeous resort towns of Villa de Angostura, San Martin de Los Andes, and Junin de Los Andes.  We climbed into the mountains and drove amongst snow-capped peaks as the sun set.  The goal was to make it to Parque Nacional Laguna Blanca to camp for the night.  I was becoming increasingly panicked at the thought of camping in the snow, but the road descended into a flat desert and the temperatures advanced to a more reasonable range.  We arrived at Laguna Blanca after dark.  Using CG's memory of a primitive map at the visitor's center, we attempted to find the free camping.  We drove up and down an old ranching road without any success.  We interrupted a HUGE flock of sheep and its angry hearding dogs before turning around and finding a sandy spot on the side of the road to camp.  There wasn´t much wind.  I managed to sleep fairly comfortably with three layers on top, two layers, on the bottom, a hat, and two pairs of socks.  This morning we awoke to grey skies, rain, snow capped mountains around us and howling wind.  We ate breakfast at a windbreak near the lake.  CG checked out the residents of Laguna Lake (which is saline)-- black necked swans and pink flamingos.  We couldn't get out of there fast enough.

So, now we're in the bustling metropolis (not!) of Zapala, heading towards a dinosaur museum and then, fingers crossed, onto some thermal springs and R&R.

Until the next fast internet connection....

Brrr... Bariloche

Greetings from the most touristed city in the lake district!!  This feels like the BIG city after traveling through small towns up and down the eastern border of Argentina.  It's out of tourist season here (the big crowds come for hiking and relaxing in December and January and for skiing in July and August), but the place still feels full and polished.

Bariloche is a city of 100,000 people set right up against Lago Nahuel Huapi and right on the edge of Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi.  The area was originally inhabited by the Mapuche people and it is from their language that the name Nahuel Huapi originates.  The area is known for hiking, skiing, and chocolate!! (Some of the earliest "white" settlers were Swiss.)

We arrived yesterday after a 120 km drive from El Bolson.  The wind was up and there were huge waves on the lake.  We wandered around the city, feeling like country bumpkins (i.e. Annie wears capri pants and purple wool knee socks with her sandals), and planning out our time here.  We visited the natural history museum which (finally!) described the history of the indigenous folks from this region.  We also visited a teeny, tiny dinosaur museum which cost AR$4 (USD$1) and was worth every penny-- have you ever seen fossilized dinosaur poop? 

There isn't any camping near the city center, and since we were hoping to escape some of the wind coming off the lake, we drove about 30 km into the national park into Colonia Suiza which is the old Swiss settlement.  The first camping area we found was run by a man who was literally no less than 100 years old.  The campground was empty and there was a rabid-ish dog chained in the corner.... this did not inspire confidence.  Then, the old guy, Alberto, told us that there wasn't any hot water for the showers but that we could shower at his house.  Red flag!  CG and I ran as fast as we could.  The next campground was a gem: Bariloche Ser.  Amazing.  It's a family camp with cabins, dorms, and camping.  There was a big communal cooking and eating space with heaters and a stereo.  With the outside temperatures dipping and my blood ever thinner, I was THRILLED to cook and eat inside.  I survived sleeping in the tent with two layers all around but my expanding afro made it difficult to keep my hat on and CG says I kept him awake all night adjusting it.  Needless to say, I am investigating indoor lodging for tonight....

I am CG-less today.  My left knee and right achilles are delicate, so I decided to take the day off from hiking.  He is climbing Cerro Lopez (Lopez Mountain) which is reportedly 7 km straight up and 7 km straight down but has some of the nicest views around.  I am slightly disappointed to miss out but also kind of pleased to be catching up on email and doing some errands.

We have 7 days left and so much of the country to see before heading back to Buenos Aires.  I'll keep you updated. 

So, until the next fast internet cafe....

Mmmm.... beer

Hello, folks.  Greetings from El Bolson.  Yup.  We're still here.  I can't seem to tear myself away from the microbreweries.  Until now, we've been largely subjected to the only beer brewed and distributed nationally here-- Quilmes.  It's not very good.  But El Bolson is the largest producer of hops in the whole country, so this place is rich with little breweries.  I have taken full advantage. 

Wednesday was rainy and kind of ugly.  We spent the day playing chess (yes, I am learning!) in the local coffee shop.  We took a ridiculous drive straight up a poorly maintained dirt road (our poor rental car) to a scenic outlook.  I had such a headache after the drive that I didn't get out of the car.

Yesterday we went on a 16 mile hike up to Cajon de Azul.  Silly us.  We had no idea what cajon meant.  The hike was great and it got even better when we found a precarious suspension bridge over a huge, beautiful river canyon.  How nice!!  Guess what?  Cajon means box canyon.  That's what we were looking for!!  Other highlights:  CG jumping from one side of the canyon to the other as Argentines looked on in horror; a scary gaucho riding by on a horse staring at me and saying very slowly "hola señorita" over and over again; being too tired to drive to Bariloche after the hike so settling for a hotel room right next to.... you guessed it, a microbrewery!! 

We're off to Bariloche today.  This is the real center of the Lakes District.  And then after that, I hear there are some hot springs further north.....

Long time, no blog

Hello folks.  Greetings from the very picturesque town of El Bolson in the Lakes District of western Argentina.

Blogging and internet access have not been easy lately.  Most of the internet cafes are small and slow.  Sometimes they only have one computer, so CG and I have to share.  I don't like sharing....

We spent three nights in El Chalten.  On Thursday, we hiked around 20 km to Laguna de Los Tores.  It was the windiest hike I have ever been on.  My left knee was a little buggered, so I wasn't in the greatest form.  As we got to the top, we realized that the final ascent to the glacial lake required a fairly technical climb up a field of boulders.  I settled in behind a big boulder, out of the wind and rain, and waited for CG to go up and back on his own.  Several times I tried to stand up out of the shelter of the boulder and nearly got knocked over.  I don't know how CG did it (in his sandals, no less) but he came back triumphant and happy.  I cannot say I feel as though I missed out on anything.

Thursday night we had a beer at a teeny tiny microbrewery in El Chalten.  It was quiet and calm (and out of the wind) until a group of English speakers boisterously entered the restaurant.  I was ready to feel the usual sense of embarassment about loudmouthed American tourists..... one guy walked right up to the counter and said "Tell us all about the beer you've got here." (There was only one brew on tap.)  "We're Canadian.  We love beer."  Relief.  And amusement.  Take that, CG!

On Friday, we left El Chalten and undertook the hair raising experience of driving the infamous Route 40.  The unpaved section.  It was trecherous and exhausting and I think since I have done it once, I might not ever do it again.  We had hoped to make it to Cueva de Las Manos (UNESCO heritage site with cave paintings) but we were too optimistic about how fast we could drive on this unpaved highway and arrived after the Cueva closed.   We managed to find an unused road through a sheep ranch about 4-5 km off the main road and made a camp there.  I wasn't particularly happy about camping illegally on someone's ranch, but I did not want to get back on Route 40 for the life of me.  We set up amongst the sheep and enjoyed a beautiful sunset, gorgeous star gazing, and a spectacular sunrise.  We were just eating some breakfast (we made our fire in the middle of the road to minimize the risk of it spreading), when we heard a car approaching.  I let out a whole string of expletives and started moving our gear out of the road.  The car belonged to an older couple who had lost their way and meant to head towards the cave.  It was most improbable that they made their way to our campsite.  After we redirected them, we had a good laugh. 

Cueva de las Manos was fascinating and awe-inspiring.  These ancient cave paintings, some of which date from 7,000 years ago, consist almost entirely of left hands which are stenciled on rock faces and inside of caves in red, blue, orange and yellow-- hundreds and hundreds of outlines of hands of all sizes.  90% are left hands (the right hand, for most people, must have been involved in whatever process was required to apply the paint around the left hand-- probably with some sort of blow straw).  There is one six fingered hand, one foot, and several outlines of choique feet (choique is a large bird like an emu or rhea).  The paintings are beautifully perserved and presented.  The caves are set deep in a verdant canyon.  I am so glad we went.

From the Cueva we drove on the partially paved Route 40 and picked up a hitchhiker (the advantage of having a traveling partner who is a guy).  Ironically, he turned out to be a heavy machinery operator working on the "paving" of Route 40.  He was heading to Los Antiguos for a long weekend of "cerveza y chicas" (beer and girls).  The poor guy rode in the back of our stuffed car with firewood, boxes of camping food, and water bottles.  He was a captive audience and I finally had a chance to ask all of the questions about Argentine culture that had been nagging at me.  We breezed through Los Antiguos (which was beautiful but crowded) and onto the paved section of Route 40 (halelujah!!) to Sarmiento where we checked into a hotel (I insisted) and crashed.  On Sunday morning, we visited the second petrified forest of the trip and drove to the sweet little towns of Esquel and Trevelin.  Trevelin was settled by Welsh folks and the architecture and culture are still a nice mixture of Argentine and Welch.  This town specializes in baked goods and we wandered around a Sunday afternoon fair enjoying the sites and sounds and sweets. 

We spent Sunday night at a campground right on a fishing river outside of Trevelin.  This is where were first came into contact with the very interesting and illusive Argentine redneck.  The folks at the site next to us played their car stereo at top volume..... which was annoying but tolerable.  CG and I made dinner and did our best to ignore them.  But then there was some rustling in the trees and out come three men with a ladder.  A ladder?  They proceeded to use the ladder to cut down a limb from a nearby tree to burn in their campfire!!!  Really!  Hilarious.

Monday we spent in Parque Nacional Alceres which is supposed to contain huge, old trees which are like sequoia.  We never saw the trees, or much of anything, really.  Let's just say this particular park is made for folks who like more sedentary recreation.  We had planned to spend another day there, but the rangers would not register us for hikes after 11 am (in case it took us too long to come back), so we motored on to our current location-- El Bolson.

Until the next good internet cafe.....

Try, try, try

CG and I tried everything to get into Chile.  We tried begging our rental car company.  We tried threatening the rental car company.  They basically couldn't give us insurnace because they do not have a license in Chile.  So, we tried to buy our own insurance.... no go.  We tried to rent another car so we could just drive in for a few days and then return to Argentina.  It was going to costs hundreds of dollars a day.  We even tried to see if we could book bus tickets but it was one of those "you can't get there from here" kind of situations.  Chile = fail.

So, after trying nearly all day, we made our way further into Parque Nacional de los Glaciers and drowned our selves in a gorgeous little campsite at the side of Lago Argentina and surrounded by snow capped mountains.  CG raced off to climb up Cerro Crystales before it got too dark.  I doubted I could keep up with his pace, so I stayed behind and just gawked at the scenery.  There were only 3-4 other campers in this huge area, so it felt like we were alone.  It was clear and quiet.  If all of the bad luck I have experienced since starting this trip two weeks ago were conspiring to make this moment, it was just about worth it.  Perfect.

Tuesday we intended to enter the national park and see more glaciers.  But then we found ourselves with a flat tire and it took most of the afternoon to fix it (everything is closed between 12 and 3 pm).  We decided to skip the close up views of Petit Moreno and drive 220 kms on to the more hiking-oriented El Chalten.  El Chalten is a tiny village of approximately 1000 full time residents.  It sits amongst gorgeous peaks and is a favorite with ice climbers.  El Chalten is expanding as fast it possibly can-- every free piece of land is under construction and the tourists keep coming!

It's cold here compared to any other place we've been.  I am going to need to buy some more warm clothes.  Today we hiked up to a glacial lake.  I just kept moving and managed to avoid freezing.  Tomorrow we'll probably go on one more hike before moving further north.  Chile be damned!