7 january - el chalten to buenos aires

early rise and hoof our gear over to the hostel calafete where we booked our next night. shuttle to the bus station, then the 5.5 hour bus ride to el chalten.

chalten is a remote village on the north entrace to the glacier park and we had glowing reports of the hikes in and around the area. the swede's recommendations at the puerto madryn hostel sealed the deal. we had to go, if only for a day trip.

the road to chalten was paved for a bit on each end, making the middle part of the journey a long and rocky pace across the glacial plain. this is what adds the hours to the not very distant 120km drive, i thought.

the geology of the place is amazing at every turn and crest; first reminding me of the north american west, dry and hard, then turning west around lake viedma becoming much like the run from jackson hole wyoming into yellowstone... except... except at the western origin of the lake viedma is a colossal glacier flowing down from the andes.

the bus dropped us at the ranger station in el chatlen for a quick orientation by the ranger (pack it in, pack it out. don't get lost. etc.), then we had a quick lunch before wandering off on our hike. we managed to get up to a couple of decent lookouts and viewpoints before the weather turned to wet with driving wind straight from the mountain fitz roy.

returning to town for coffee drinks while waiting for our bus back to calafete. then, having arrived at that place, a meal, then bi-lingual scrabble with a pair of women (one from holland and the other argentine). they played spanish words while we played english ones.
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10 january - thursday

where to start? the inner journey or the outer one? toss the coin, tails says 'outer'. so, i'll work backwards.

i sit this morning at the cafe la nina de oro on the corner of fray saint maria de oro and avenida sante fe in buenos aires, argentina. it is a mildly muggy morning and somewhat overcast after last night's thunderstorms. but also, and for the same reason, the city feels a bit cleaner.

it is about 10am and ave santa fe is an eight lane thouroughfare teaming with people attending to their morning business. hundreds of taxis and city busses jockey for position. pedestrians beware. it all tends to set me on edge, or perhaps it is the cafe con leche working through my veins.

i am in the pallermo, a barrio rather large. a working class neighborhood full of ten and fifteen story apartments with ground floor business fronts. our hostel sits a half block down sm de oro, behind my left shoulder. the din and hum of engines and mutterings of spanish by passersby sets me apart and observer.

the people, as you meet them on the streets, are brusk. it is not rudeness, it is the demeanor and sense of preservation borne of any high density population center. aware, but unwilling to be caught caring too much.

i slept well last night for the most part, waking only once to chug water and try and sooth my cigarette ripped throat. we keep the air conditioner on in the room blasting full 24/7. the days have been in the 100 degrees F range and about 80% humidity. the semi-tropical heat is great for plants and sweating out all of you clothes.

picked up laundry from the cleaners. there is a bit of paradise in a soapy smelling shirt. truth.

we came in a little late last night, a not terrible 1:30am, but i was stripped of energy after the day's adventures. a fine japanese meal at a place by the name of moshiemoshie. ultra hip and extra tasty after two weeks of beef and cheese, ham and cheese, criossant and coffee.

the late afternoon was disposed of exploring the museum of latin american art, a modern art must see here in Bs As. the walk there took us through the japanese gardens, an attempt at quiet reflection in the bustling traffic near the newberry airport. quite nice with koi ponds filled with hundreds of the gaping fishes. this bit of photo-op serenity was just as required having been moved to tears at the museo evita, a walk-through tribute to the social revolution and the instigating woman, eva peron. her wardrobe displayed in glass case boxes.

moved to tears. there's been a bit much of that the past twenty hours or so. julie called and maxwell is sick. oh, poor kitty. damn, and double damn. i've missed you so, and now you're to be gone forever. little pink paws.