Marci Soifer

We made it to El Calafate, but wow...that was a bus ride. Mollie and I are pretty good at making the best of every experience, keep in mind. So, when it was furiously raining outside and leaking above our seats on the bus, we switched seats. When there was movie at any point in the 36 hour ride, we entertained ourselves with games like MASH (if you do not know about MASH, please ask your local 12-year-old). When we were hungry, we pulled out one of our choice meals---you know, like bread and cheese, cheese and crackers, crackers and jam, jam and apples (fondly referred to as our ¨apple pie¨...oh, the treats on a long bus ride), apples and bananas, and some cookies and chocolate. When we were tired, we got into our sleeping bags and slept. When the bus stopped at a million rest stops and told us that we were braking for twenty minutes and they really meant an hour, we just enjoyed the fresh air and tried to ignore the ¨characters¨ in the bus station at 6 am. And, when the bus had been going for about 32 hours and was finally an hour away from Rio Gallegos (the last stop on the main bus route and the location where Mollie and I needed to catch another connection to El Calafate), AND broke down on the side of the road for three hours, we laughed and ate and did whatever we could to smile (and we were successful).

Anyway, bottom line: I saw pretty much all of southern Argentina from the window of this bus, Mollie and I had some fun but are really eager to stand and move these days, and I think that I could win the sleeping on a bus for the longest duration of time contest. It was fine, really. We were seriously delayed in the end, since we were stuck on the side of the road in the broken bus for so long. Eventually, another bus did come to our rescue, which was great. Mollie and I did miss our connection on Thursday evening to El Calafate, and we had to spend a night at a random hostel to catch the next bus out on Friday morning. But, we got here. El Calafate never looked so good.

The city is interesting. Seemingly, the city is pretty centered around tourism and the Perito Moreno glacier, which is 80 km away. The development feels new, and the faces of the buildings are a charming wood or metal...something that looks sturdy and resembles winter-proof cabins. There are a handful of small, fancy hotels, a few nice restaurants, and a lot more chocolate and gelato stops. The main strip (which is the center of commerce in the small city...6 blocks of storefronts), has a surprisingly nice selection of cafes (which I always appreciate), and has a great deal of Argentine tourists wandering in and out of the mate (the Argentine tea) serving doors. The city is definetely Patagonian, as all views showcase the mountains, sparkling blue lake and lagoon, snow-capped mountains, and a tall, vertically shaped, leafy tree that has changed to yellow in the fall foliage...all features I have come to expect in Patagonia.

Upon our arrival yesterday, we embarked upon the main strip and got accquainted with the features of this place. While still soaking up the relaxed atmosphere, Mollie and I spent today exploring the most popular destination for the Calafate tourists, the Perito Moreno glacier. And, how else to explore this glacier...but, of course, the hike on the glacier excursion. I mean, how many other times in our life would we be able to walk on a glacier, let alone the third largest glacier in the world.

We left the hostel at 7 am, with a nervous feeling, as the rain that haunts my travels had (naturally) soaked the morning. In the monsoon, we loaded into the bus, picked up other tourists around town, and began the trip back into the glacier national park. It was dark, and I was obviously sleeping (being a bus again and all), so I have no idea what the ride looked like. My senses were heightened and fully awoken once we arrived, unloaded from the bus, and got onto a medium-sized motor boat awaiting on a tourquoise-steel colored lake in the midst of red and green (foliage) covered mountains, with snow caps. Your senses are probably heightened just thinking about it.

The boat ride was short, and after about 3 minutes, Mollie and I realized why we had taken the 36 hour, 3 day bus ride. Rounding a range of the mountains, the glacier was just before us. This enormous conglomeration of ice, water, and snow, with deep blue whole and flecks spread across the deep white snow overwhelms the eyes. Partly because it is so enormous, and really all you can see before you for miles, and also because the tall spikes and ridged edges are set into fascinating shapes. And, the eyes are not the only sensory organ this glacier taps into...also the ears. This glacier is almost the most mobile or most active glacier in the world (second place), moving 3 km a day, and as you get closer, the movement is audible. It sounds kind of like a cannon, as Mollie so eloquently put it. The glacier shifts, and either an enormous chunk will slide off into the water, creating a huge wave and dusting of snow and ice, or the glacier will move internally, which will only result in subtly movement of the lake water on the outside. Either way, there is much to watch and to hear. This is a wonder, and we were in such awe that all there was to say as our boat pulled to shore nearby the glacier´s edge was, ¨this is unreal¨.

The rain was settling down at this point, and the sun started to poke through the clouds, bringing on a much warmer and clearer glacier day. With our group and guide, we walked to the immediate side of the glacier, and tied cramp-ons to our boot bottoms. These are spiked claws for the bootom of the shoe, enabling easier walking on snow and ice. After a breif orientation to the world on the cramp-on, which really just consisted of ¨lean back¨ and ¨spread your feet apart¨, we got in a line and started to walk. The cramp-on was awkward at first, and felt strange on the ground. But, once we reached the glacier, I totally understood. The trick was to stamp one foot down, which secured the grip, and then move the second forward in the same motion, forcing small pieces of ice below to scatter. But, with this movement, we could do anything. We could run (we didn´t, but we could have), we could jump (again, not so much), and we could walk up or down any incline (and that, we did lots of). With that, Mollie and I walked on the glacier.

Up, down, around, stopping to take lots of photos, and bend down to touch the ice or marvel at the blue coloring that found a way to the surface or surrounded periodic holes. It was awesome. Two hours of walking. Our guide, Flavio, even grabbed his ice-pick and showed us what it meant to climb a totally vertical ice climb. This was really amazing. And, to top it all off, after two hours of marveling, taking photos of, and walking on the glacier, we ended up at a final spot where the adventure travel agency had set up a table with cups of whiskey for the glacier walkers. We thought it was strange, but figured that they did it because there was such an abundance of ice so, why not? Sure enough, they did fill the glasses with the ice from under the table. We sipped, and enjoyed a little snack, before descending and removing the cramp-ons. It was a fantastic experience.

After enjoying our packed lunch and visiting the glacier viewing gallery a few miles up, on a nearby mountainside, we headed back to Calafate. Mollie and I busily began to prepare for the next phase of our exploration of the south, which is Torres del Paine. This is one of the world´s most famous forrests and national parks, located in Chile. So, with passports in hand, we will get back on buses for some more riding tomorrow. We have cans of food, some granola, and our sleeping bags, and we will see what happens. All will be well...we will stay warm and fed, this I am certain of, but I am really looking forward to what this park has in store for us. We only have a few short days, so whatever happens, I hope that it will happen in the sun. In the meantime, I am still reveling in my experience glacier walking.

When I last wrote, we were just getting settled in Bariloche, and all we knew about this place was that it is the land of beautiful mountains, sparkling lakes, colder weather, and traveling Israelis celebrating Passover. It has now been one week since our arrival in Bariloche, and I still think those features pretty much sum up this place. Mollie and I have been relaxing a lot here...allowing ourselves to loose afternoons wandering through the small streets, sitting lakeside, or working on a rediculous song that we have been writing (maybe I will share another time). We have become regulars at a particular local bar (well, sort of) and spent hours hanging out with and creating sporadic dance parties with the employees of our hostel. We even know a bit about bus routes and which chocolate store (this city is famous for the chocolate) and which chocolate treats are our favorite in town. We have really fallen in love with Bariloche.

On Saturday, we ventured out of the city to the nearby El Bolson. This city is described as, "Argentina's closest semblance to Berkley, CA", and we could see why. We brought our cheese and matzah for a picnic, and hung out in the enormous grassy park in the center of the city. This park is lined on weekends by a humungous art fair, which reminded me of the Ann Arbor or East Lansing art fairs. Tons of vendors selling woodwork, patchwork, tiles, paintings, pottery, journals, chocolate, toys, knit goods, a food court (although in the Michigan art fairs, I would struggle to find matte, the Argentine tea with frequency equivilent to American cappucino or latte). Mollie and I patrolled the market for a while, making a few rounds back and forth. We did each find a few trinkets that are small, remind us of Patagonia (or what we have seen so far), and considered worthy enough to add weight to our backpacks. And, after enjoying the market, we rotated back to the grassy comfort. The park in El Bolson sits in the center of a valley, deep between rocky, golden red mountains, and lined with vast greenery (and of course, snow caps). It was warm and sunny for us, and writing in journals and relaxing in the heat was (a welcome surprise) made even more enjoyable as we people watched. The citizens of El Bolson really do resemble those of Berkeley, or some parts of Ann Arbor, for that matter. Argentines in hemp, with dread locks, and patchwork clothing...backpackers who look like they have been living in their posted tent on the city's edge for at least a year...and children who are clearly fed homeopathic remedies and yoga for their runny noses. I loved it.

Sunday was Easter, which meant that the Argentine travelers who were filling the streets (and crowding the line at the chocolate store) went home. And, we enjoyed a local overlook point, a short bus ride outside of town. In this place, we could see literally all the lakes and mountain peaks in a concentrated area on the region. Sure, we took the chair lift up, which Mollie was not so into, and we went up with another group of inquiring Israelis...making them the 100th group of Israelis to talk to us and become shocked to hear that North American Jews know anything about Israel, care about it, and can even speak some Hebrew. But, in general it was great. We loved the views, and honestly, we love the Israelis too.

On Monday, we decided to get up early and head out to a nearby peak which was supposed to have one of the more difficult hikes and most beautiful views. The hike is called Lopez, and while it was a challenging, steep route, we went together...and it was just us. Slowly, we ascended, over rocks, hills, through tall trees, and tall bamboo(like) shrubbery. When we began the hike, it was a little cloudy, and it seemed like a sloud that hung above us in a thin sheet. As we got higher and higher on the mountain, we found that the cloud was indeed a thin layer...a border to the sky. We were able to catch breathtaking views behind us of the majestic lakes, brightly colored fall foliage, and complementing mountains...all in the distance. And, once we passed through the cloud layer, we marveled at the fluffy, flat nature of this blanket. It dissapated, luckily, because we did not want it to remain once we reached the top, and three hours in, we sat at the highest point on the trail and soaked in the breathtaking view. Some matzah and cheese (and a little jam this time) later, and of course, time with nose and pen in my journal, and Mollie and I began our descent. It was one of those days of hiking when you are genuinely grateful for the place and the opportunity to spend time there, because you are really taking time to soak it all in. I am not sure I have done that always.

But, all good things must come to an end, and Bariloche is no exception. We have swapped email addresses with our new Israeli friends, and done some laundry. It is raining here, which means that it is time to move on. Today, Mollie and I will board a 30 hour bus ride to El Calafate, which a city much, much further south. This is the real essence of Patagonia, from what we hear. So, we will purchase our long underwear and go, before the city shuts down for winter in a few days. It should be an adventure. But, I guess it already was one.