The Land of Frozen Time...

Sometimes the things I see and the events I experience leave me craving desperately for the words to adequately convey the moments and somehow do them justice. Still I try, and admittedly often fail, but still I proceed forward. What other option is there besides letting the event reside simply in my memory where it will eventually fade and wither. Antarctica, a place I never thought to touch and at times still can't completely believe I did was such an experience.



After two days of relatively calm weather through the Drake Passage, I awoke to find the Macro Polo sitting placidly among islands shrouded in snow and water dotted with icebergs. The experience was almost surreal and even the bite of the chill antarctic air cutting easily through my mostly synthetic trekking gear was hard pressed to break the spell. We had arrived.



The sky was overcast and the sea was still and black. Everyone calmly doned their arctic gear but the excitement of our first excursion onto land was almost palpable. How do a bunch of backpackers from around the world end up in Antarctica? With a lot of luck. The crew outfitted us with lifevests and loaded us into the Zodiacs ten at a time. Then there was nothing else left but to make landfall.





Bleak yet beautiful. A contradiction yet anyone who has seen a desert knows it can be true. There is something timeless and majestic about this place frozen in snow and ice. Something almost otherworldly, and for a boy who grew up in a city of concrete and steel, it might as well be another world. Few things grow here. Even fewer things manage to eke out a life, yet the penguins live and thrive. By the end of the trip, I felt penguined-out much the same way I felt sea-lioned-out after the Galapagos, but I still had to greatly admire the little guys who somehow found a way.





All around us are ice shelves, some probably one hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand years old if some of the facts we learned can believed. From far away, they don't look that impressive until a smaller object enters the scene and lends scale to the picture. Then you realize these rough and jagged walls of compressed snow tower upwards for at least six or seven stories, if not more. That's not impressive, that's awe-inspiring.



The icebergs were also a constant part of the landscape. Of all shapes and sizes, uneven melting and corrison from weather had made some into floating ice sculptures. I even managed to sit on one that had beached itself near the shore where we landed. My friends and I quickly dubbed it the ice couch and took turns taking pictures on it.





All in all, we had three excursions to the White Continent. Too few and too short anyway you look at it, but three more than most I suppose. With so many places left to see, I don't know if I would be back to Antarctica any time soon, but the continent, as well as the people who shared it with me, made it a memory I will hold for years to come.

El Fin del Mundo...

Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world. They call it the End of the World here and looking out from the docks south toward the Drake Passage and further south, toward Antarctica, it doesn't sound like an empty boast. It's funny to think how far I've come and how far away home seems right now. Four months ago I boarded a plane in Tijuana, Mexico and 24 hours later I was in Quito, Ecuador. Now I'm standing at the southern tip of Argentina, ready to start making my way north again to warmer weather. Or at least that was the plan.

After going through Patagonia for a month with Tony, we were suppose to part ways after the Super Bowl but once again life sometimes works in mysterious ways. A Danish girl named Mie (who happens to be the girl I'm traveling with currently) came back to our hostel (prophetically named Antarctica Hostel) with almost unbelievable news. She had just booked a last minute ticket on a cruise ship to Antarctica for $900 US. That was all it took. The next day, there was a mad rush of backpackers eager on getting the all elusive 7th continent stamp in their passport. In all, over 20 people from our hostel alone managed to book passage aboard the Macro Polo. And in total, there were 120 of us on a ship with 495 passengers. So what looked like the end of my southward journey was actually only the beginning.

After I had cancelled my Carnival plans, and confirmed my own berth on the ship, we all begin hastily preparing for the trip. This consisted of mainly buying alcohol which we would smuggle onboard to cut our already drastically cut price and some specialized gear like high rubber boots. While the ticket to Antarctica overshadowed almost everything else I did in Ushuaia, I managed to get a few other things in before we embarked.





Tony, Andreas, and I spent two days in Terra del Fuego National Park. We saw the superbowl. I continued my frantic struggle to get caught up in my photo gallery (something I am now happy to announce is finally done!). We cooked a few great meals. And I met a few new people who would become the crew I kicked it with for the most part on the two week cruise. I enjoyed my time immensily in Ushuaia. That's not to say I'd ever come back, but after trekking around Patagonia for three or so weeks, it was nice to have a break and relax. Plus the friends I made there feel like the kind that will stick, and those are rare enough in any situation.

Doing the W...

Ok, I'm going to first start this post by saying that I actually did this over a month ago, but in my zeal to update my photo gallery and the whirlwind that was Antarctica, I seem to have fallen massively behind in my blog. So if you would bear with me, those few poor souls still reading this site, I will attempt to recap a month worth of adventures over the next few days.

Currently it's raining in Iguazu, so I have some time on my hands...



So where did I leave off... oh yeah, Calafate. So after that, Tony and I caught a bus to Puerto Natales to do a few days hiking in the famed Torres del Paine, which is actually on the Chilean side of Patagonia. We met up with Tony's friend, Andreas, a quiet tattoo artist from Germany and headed off. Unfortunately both Tony and I wanted a couple of days of recooperation after the hosts of injuries we compiled in El Chalten and Andreas couldn't be bothered to wait. So he left immediately for the national park, and we left the day after.



There are two ways to do Torres del Paine, the full circuit (which takes eight days) and the W (which takes 4 to 5). We were determined to do it in four. We started on the east side of the park and began to climb. Each sweep of the W is a pretty steep ascent for 1-2 hours. It doesn't sound like much I know, but while carrying 25+ kilos on your back, it's not exactly a stroll in the park either. And for our first two days on the trail, the sun beat down relentlessly on us. But for our troubles, at the top of each climb is a view point well worth the effort.

The end of the first day we approached Torres del Paine, the mountain range that is the namesake of the national park. We watched the sunset over the four peaks and made a hasty descent down. The sun sat at around 10:30 and we also wanted to watch the sunrise, which we heard was spectacular, at around 4 AM. It wasn't much sleep to go on but as with many things, it turned out to be enough. The truly nerve wracking part was the ascent in pitch darkness. It was hard enough during the day, but at night it was down right treacherous. I almost fell many times, and I managed to break one of my fancy carbon fiber trekking poles. Luckily I bought it from REI, so it can be replaced.





The sunrise was subdued from the light rain and heavy wind. But I did manage to get some amazing sky pictures before the weather forced me off the face of the mountain. After that, it was a 30 minute descent, breaking camp, loading up, and an 11 hour day of hiking. The thing is, there are camps at the base of each sweep, but you must pay to use them. The free camps are always at the top of the ascent and we couldn't be bothered to pay. Before the day was over, both of us were on pain killers, the sun was quickly setting, the map signs turned out to be wrong, and we managed to pick up a lost israeli. In the end, we managed to find the camp site and set up our tents in the dark.





The next day was the highlight of whole trek for me. After a couple of hours through the Valle del Frances, with the river below swollen and frothing from the fresh summer melts of the glaciers, we came to a mirador (view point) surrounded on all sides by twelve majestic peaks. I took no less than 4 panoramas which I can't wait to reassemble once I get back home. After that kind of view, we were really pumped up for the eight or so more hours of trekking to our final camp site near the ferry which would bore us home.



The next day, our final day, the great weather we'd sustained throughout the trek thusfar broke and gave way to torrents of rain and howling wind. The last trek, some three and half hours each way, was for the most part wet and miserable. To make matters worse, once I finally did reach Glacier Grey, the wind and rain allied to prevent me from taking even a single picture. So resigned in defeat, I reluctanly climbed off the view point and trudge back to base camp. I broke camp, had a few beers with some Israeli girls we met in Calafate, and then staggered onto the ferry. Like the peaks and valleys we traversed, the trip had it's ups and downs but ultimately it was one those experiences that stay with you. A definite highlight in a trip full of amazing moments.

The White Continent...

So I wrote a while back about doors and how when one closes, often another opens. Well when I decided to close the door on my carnival plans this year (due to costs and other logistical problems), the door that opened led me to a 13-day cruise to Antartica. Haha. I was on standby until about 10 minutes ago, and after receiving final confirmation of my berth, I just had to post about it. So I found the nearest internet cafe and here I am. The retail asking price for the cruise is normally $4000. My ticket? I mere $900. Muhahaha. What a steal! I feel sorry for the people who paid full price. Better yet, a good number of my friends down here are also going. So it is shaping up to be one big party cruise. Now all that's left is to figure out how to smuggle on the alcohol. Tee hee.