You'd think that Torres del Paine, in the southern tip of South America, in the south of Patagonia, is as far south as you could go. You'd be wrong. Ushuaia is the southern most city in the world, and it was to there that I headed with Stephan, a friend I criss-crossed in the middle of the trek, and with whom I met up afterward in Puerto Natales. We caught a 17-hour bus, crossed the Strait of Magellan on a ferry, and arrived in the once-bustling port city of Ushuaia. Now that the Panama Canal is open, it's not nearly as popular, but it's still full of good restaurants, tour companies, and port-related business people. The Chilean volcano was still erupting, so tourism was down, which meant that we had the world's best churros all to ourselves. Yum. Try the dulce de leche if you go. Ushuaia is home to Tierra del Fuego National Park (which will be in my next post) and some world-class cross-country skiing. The place we went was owned by three former Olympians, all of whom grew up there. There are races there every year, drawing the best of the continent and beyond. Though I'd still choose Korki in northern Minnesota, the nearby peaks and rambling forest provided a delightful day of touring.
A ferry crosses the Strait of Magellan. The strip of water is so narrow that it takes longer to board the ferry than to cross the strait.
The cross-country ski resort proudly displays the Argentinian flag, as it is home of three former Olympians.
We arrived on the first day of skiing of the entire season, after a light snowfall the night before. They were just finishing grooming the trail when we got there, and the snow was the perfect depth.
The main trail made a 5-kilometer loop around a large field...
...but we headed off into the forest and created our own tracks for much of the day.
When we returned, we saw these folks practicing their dog-sledding. The dogs LOVED to run, and complained wildly when they weren't the ones chosen to go out.
No comments:
Post a Comment