Though there is no valid excuse for not having updated the blog in three weeks, things were quite busy in preparation for and during the stay of my parents.
Their visit was a fun one, though quite exhausting on both parts. I also have to admit my parental units are more travel savvy than I initially though. Armed with a very few words of spanish they made their way too and fro the airport and were able to handle themselves quite well when I couldnt be their guide. Much of the trip was consumed by exactly what you do in Buenos Aires: eat, drink, and shop. The highlight, however, was our side trip to Ushuaia.
THE LAND OF FIRE
Tierra de Fuego, spanish for the land of fuego, is home to the most southern city in the world: Ushuaia. Tierra del Fuego is actually a bit of a misnomer as the cold tempuratures and Andes Mountain range lead to a land covered in ice. The name is actually derived from Magellan, the first to navigate the Beagle Channel. He saw small fires on many of the islands that were populated by local indians (all of which have now been eradicated) and thus gave it the name Land of Fire.
As our flight down there was at 5:30 AM, we actually thought it better to stay up all night and get to the airport early given that Aerolineas Argentinas is prone to delays and mistakes. It turns out we were right. As soon as we arrived, dry-eyed and weary, I get a 3:20AM call from the airline saying our flight has been delayed two more hours. Bank error not in your favor. Sitting around for three and a half more hours was utterly miserable. For those of you doing the math at home you may be thinking "his flight is at 730, but he sat around until 6:50? how does that work? what about security, gate check, etc?" At 650 we got in a line of about 150 people since the gate was yet to be opened. With only one metal detector it took us a mere 10 minutes to get through the line. So, in answer to your question, we managed said feat through complete and utter recklessness on behalf of Argentine security. I'd say roughly 2/3 of the people walking through the metal detector set it off, none were stopped and not a single bag was further inspected. We made it through, made our plane, and made it alive...that's all that counts right?
Ushuaia is crazy beautiful. After a great seafood lunch (quite lacking in BsAs) and a long rest, we took a tour of the beagle channel. We explored the flora, fauna, and history of said channel and it was quite enchanting, even on two hours of sleep. The next day we were slow to get up but made our way out for a hike in the national park that afternoon. We were told the hike was "not too difficult" but didn't realize those giving such advice were being quite literal. Although it took us about 50% longer than expected, the scenery was nothing short of breath-taking. Lake meets mountains, wildflowers, and wild horses. That night we dined at our hotel, which is known as one of the best in South America. The food was exquisite as I indulged in the king crab (when I can get seafood these days, I take advantage) and my folks had the trout. Our last day in the city we went up a ski lift for a minor hike (it actually was minor this time). The ski season was over but there was still quite a bit of snow on the mountains especially once you get above the tree line. As my dad was equipped only with loafers and mom was still a bit weary after the previous hike, I ventured up the mountain solo. It felt like 30 minutes on a stairmaster on the hard setting and I felt a bit weird half way up (above the tree line) surrounded by snow but having shed my jacket and fleece and rolled back my sleeves. Had I ventured another 45 minutes up the mountain I would have reached the martial glacier, but I was not prepared for such a feet. Instead of clumsily meandering down the mountain I opted for the funner and faster method: I created a sled out of my jacket and butt-slided all the way down. Later we checked out the old prison, which was packed with all sorts of historic treasures, but after an hour or so we were too tired to appreciate it and went back to the hotel to rest up before departure. If you can ever make it down that far, I'd highly recommend it.
Folks mid-mountain with the Beagle Channel as a backdrop.
Duck tape surrounds the load-bearing part of the chair lift. Should I be worried? No pase nada!
RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE WEEK
Is it some sort of unwritten (or perhaps even written) rule that, when in a museum, one must walk with their hands folded behind their back?
