Leg 3 - Punta Arenas to Chile Chico

Route summary: Punta Arenas, Porvenir, Puerto Natales, Torres del Paine, El Calafate, Pink Hotel, El Chalten, Tamel Aike, Bajo Caracoles, Chile Chico


Days: 20
Zero mileage days: 6
Distance (point to point): 738km
Distance (driven): 3,206km
Inefficiency factor (Driven/P2P): 4.34
Avg. speed: 160km/day

Click here for detail.

Punta Arenas' claim to fame is that it is the southernmost city in the world (Ushuaia is apparently only a town) and also has the southernmost vineyard (inside the conservatory of a very fine building in the centre of town that I think is now a Hotel). It has a cemetery which is similar to the one in Buenos Aires in having lots of ornate mausoleums which makes the place feel like a small city. All of this is surrounded by a wall and with a large front gate which were apparently paid for by Sara Braun (1), who made the donation it on the condition that she be the last person to use the main front gates. So, on her death she was carried through the front gates and they were closed and locked, and still are. It's quite a surreal place, some very beautiful buildings for containing peoples bones, and the same division between the wealthy, and the less wealthy. The latter's remains being housed in much smaller, and less ornate homes. I couldn't help notice the architectural similarity in the two "homes" in the picture on the right.

The other things of note in Punta Arenas are the brewery for Cerveza Austral (I tried to visit but they weren't doing tours) and a statue of Magellan in the middle of the town. On the north side of the plinth is a statue of and I saw that people kept touching his foot. A postcard told me that if you kiss the Indian's big toe, you'll return to Punta Arenas. It's a nice place so I have it a go - it was more effective than I thought it would be.

Then it was across the Magellan Straits again, this was longer (about two and a half hours) to Porvenir with dolphins seen at the harbour gates as we arrived. A night in Porvenir in a rather rickety hostel, an interesting encounter with a Canadian working in the oil exploration industry and an introduction to Austral's Calafate Ale (2). The next day involved a ride out to see the only King Penguin colony outside of the Antarctic and spent an hour or so watching them before heading back to the top of Tierra del Fuego and crossing the Magellan Straits again. This was a very windy drive (3) and another windy crossing. I was lucky to get on the ferry I did, one more sailed immediately after the one I was on and then they stopped running.

It was then a long, windy ride to Puerto Natales, the launch base for the Torres del Paine national park about 120km to the north. I decided I needed a day to prep kit and food etc, so had a lazy day in Puerto Natales (mostly spent drinking coffee and eating cake in a cafe with a spectacular view). Off to the national park the next day for an amazing 5 days (albeit the route didn't entirely go to plan) - some of the most stunning scenery I've ever seen and some great walking (more here).

Back to Puerto Natales and I decided that I'd need a new rear tyre for the bike (christened Lena on the ride up from Porvenir). No one could help in Puerto Natales and I was told that although I might find somewhere in El Calafate it was likely to be more expensive. An internet search suggested that my options were Punta Arenas (back south), Rio Gallegos (back east) or Puerto Montt (north). I didn't think the rear would last on the Ruta 40 and Carratera Austral to Puerto Montt and didn't really want to have to go back to Rio Gallegos so decided to head back to Punta Arenas. New rear tyre fitted, some draught Patagonian Ale in town after a stunning sunset illuminating the sky across the Magellan Straits and a walk back to the hostel through the main square. This time I only touched the Indian's big toe, although it's a nice place I didn't want to be back again in less than a fortnight.

The ride back up towards Puerto Natales was a bit tedious (some of the road I'd now driven down three times). The highlight was having tea in a shed. In Puerto Natales I'd met an English couple and a Scottish bloke who were cycling. The former had spent two and a half years cycling from Alaska and were on their way to Ushuaia, the latter had been on the road for a year, having started in Venezuela. As I was riding back I saw three bikes parked outside a shed, so pulled off the road. They were having lunch inside and kindly gave me some tea and I shared my biscuits. A contender for the definition of Britishness and definitely one of the most memorable cups of tea I've had on the trip. 

Then it was back into Argentina and onto Ruta Cuarenta (40), which has pretty legendary status as a hard road, although nearly all of it that I rode that day was tarmac and a beautiful winding road following the Turbio river north, enough ripio to be interesting without being too tiring and then on to El Calafate, entering the town shortly after the most amazing sunset. It as a amazing day on the bike (good roads, clear weather and problem free).

El Calafate is the closest town to the Perito Moreno glacier. The glacier has a face 5km wide, is approximately 60m tall and is one of the few glaciers that's still advancing. It's an amazing place and very difficult to get a handle on the scale, until a piece of ice falls off the face and you see the time it takes for it to fall, and then the size of the splash that it creates (more here). 

Rather than head back to El Calafate for another night, and then ride up to El Chalten, I decided I'd ride to the Pink Hotel. I'd been told about the place by the cyclists that I'd met in Puerto Natales (4). Click here for my review...

A beautiful ride to El Chalten, with the mountains including Fitzroy and the Cerro Torre gradually getting larger as you approach them from the east. The cover photo of the blog was taken at a mirador just before entering the town. Two great days of walking followed, the first covering significantly more ground than the second and ending with the sun setting behind the Cerro Torre and casting the most amazing shadows onto the west facing hills opposite. 

The second day was easier, a ride up to the lake where the hardy can take a ferry and then walk into Chile and the very bottom of the Carratera Austral (unfortunately not passable by bike), waterfalls and sunset atop a smaller hill overlooking the town. The clouds had come in on the second day (after the most amazingly blue skies the previous two days) but at sunset the clouds reflected the light from the sun onto the east face of the mountain, briefly lighting them up.

At the park office they were warning of deteriorating weather conditions. I'd given up on trying to do a four day hike round the back and above the glacier and decided to run away from the bad weather and head back east, then north. A good ride, about 120km of ripio when the ruta 40 showed what it could be like (5). A brief encounter with a Canadian rider on a big BMW, heading south, then tarmac (which I was very grateful for at this point), refuel and a big raincloud on the horizon was moving up from the south. I initially thought I was going to be able to miss it but the road took me into it's leading edge. The next hour or so wasn't much fun, gradually getting wetter, the road went onto a ridge line, which meant no shelter from the cross wind and also meant you felt quite exposed to the occasional lightning that I could see in the main body of the storm. I managed to ride out of the rain, but the sunlight was fading at this point so stopped at a place that advertised accommodation, just in time as shortly after checking in, the storm caught up and the most torrential rain storm arrived.


The sun returned the following day and an easier than expected ride up to Bajo Caracoles where I met a Londoner, who now lived in France, on a motorbike he'd bought in Santiago (and wasn't working properly). After chatting to him for a bit, he set of south and I went to the Cuerva de los Manos (Cave of the Hands). These cave paintings, on the side of the most stunning canyon, date from around 9,000 years ago until around the time of the arrival of the Europeans and are largely made up of positive and negative images of hands created by blowing paint onto the wall. It's an amazing place.

Back to Bajo Caracoles where I found out the hostel had closed. The guy that lived next door (and who had told me that the hostel was closed) offered me a bed in his spare room (I assumed he had something to do with the hostel but it was out of season). Only after agreeing did I discover there was no running water, the place smelt decidedly weird and the bloke was always whistling - I was beginning to think that it was like something out of Deliverance. The next morning I awoke (good first start) to snow (not so good). I didn't fancy another night in Bajo Caracoles but at the petrol station I was warned off taking the route that I was planning into Chile (over Paso Roballos) because of the weather and instead decided to head north to Perito Moreno, Los Antiguos and back into Chile at Chile Chico. A pretty unpleasant ride to Los Antiguos in the snow, which at times was falling so fast I had to wipe my visor clear 4 or more times a minute in order to be able to see. Bajo Caracoles is at 633m and the road to Perito Moreno went as high as 829m (that I saw), but Perito Moreno was lower and warmer (and so it was only raining there). Defrost for a few hours in a very accommodating cafe, then on to Los Antiguos on the Argentinian side (a lovely ride in sunshine) and back into Chile and Chile Chico.

Notes:

1. The Brauns were one of the very influential families responsible for opening up Patagonia and I think founders of La Anonima, which is now a supermarket chain in Argentina). The house in the centre of the town with the vineyard was Sara Braun's palace.

2. Calafate is a local berry, and the story goes that if you eat calafate you will return to Patagonia. I'm not usually a fan of flavoured beers but this one is very good.
3. I chatted to some guys on the ferry who'd been driving behind me earlier. They said they'd never seen someone go round a right hand corner with the bike leaning over to the left!
4. It seems to be a bit like The Beach, an almost mythical place that's handed on from cyclist to cyclist (and occasionally motorcyclists).
5. Much was alongside a freshly made tarmac road that hadn't quite been finished, and these alternate routes were worse than the normal ripio, with some very greasy muddy sections.

Pink hotel

Here's a tour of the Pink Hotel. It's apparent that I've been away for some time as I struggle with the day of the week (it was actually a Sunday), although I'm not (yet) suffering as badly as the cyclists I'd met who still thought it was 2013 when they made their entry into the Pink Hotel's visitors register...

In case you'd like to stay, it's located at 49° 53' 26"S, 072° 02' 26"W, about 10km south of La Leona on the east side of the road. North entrance is blocked by weighted barrels and barbed wire (but bicycles can be walked past), south entrance is easier for motorbikes but there's no access to the house other than going over or under the wire.

Perito Moreno glaciar

The glacier was amazing. The ride out to it was pretty special, initially across some wide plains with spectacular mountains in the distance.

Then, for the last 30km or so, the road weaved along the north shore of the Brazo Rico river. There were regular signs telling you to watch your speed. I think partially to prevent people from enjoying the road too much as it can get icy in the shade, and partially so that you don't just drive off the side of the hill, slack-jawed when you come across a view of the glacier like this:

It's difficult to get a sense of scale, but from the port on the right of the image, to the face of headland opposite the glacier is about 2.5-3km. I was told that the face is 5km wide (it's on two sides) and the glacier is up to 60m tall.

One of the reasons the Perito Moreno glaciar is famous is that it's advancing, the other is that it's easy to get to to look at. This is because there's a headland opposite on which they've made various walkways. What happens when the glacier reaches the headland? Well, it blocks the Braco Rico river, which flows clockwise in the map below out of the north to Lago Argentino. The river then undercuts the glacier, creating an ice arch, which then collapses, in quite a spectacular fashion (called a rupture).

As well as the walkways (which have a good view of the north side of the glacier) you can take a boat which gives a better view of the south side of the glacier (below), and gets you a bit closer, about 300m we were told.

While we were there we saw a couple of big chunks of ice fall. I managed to get one on film below. You can kind of get a view of scale from the time it takes the ice to fall and the size of the wave that it creates.

I thought that this big piece was going to fall (it's on the right hand edge of the photo above). It was in the sun and you can see the water streaming off it at the bottom.

Sure enough, it did fall about an hour later when I was on the headland. I saw it but (typically) had just put my camera away. I did manage to catch one more ice fall though (below).

It was a beautiful place to spend a couple of hours. I get the impression that during high season the place gets very busy (given the number of walkways), but it was fairly quiet when I was there and the weather was stunning.

Ride: Leg 2 - Ushuaia to Punta Arenas

Route summary: Ushuaia, Cape Horn, Wulaia, Magellan Island, Punta Arenas
Days: 4
Zero mileage days: 2
Distance (point to point): 249km
Distance (driven): 75km
Inefficiency factor (Driven/P2P): 0.30Avg. speed: 19km/day

Click here for detail.

On a map this looks like it should be a short leg, but I've split it out as a "leg" as it was an amazing three nights / three and a half days and although the bike was with me, she wasn't the main form of transport.

It started for two reasons. The first was that I was really keen to see more of the archipelago around Tierra del Fuego (looking at the map it looked like an amazing place to see, but almost impossible to do so other than by boat or possibly aircraft). The second reason was that I had reached the end of the road, so logic would dictate that the only exit route was back the way I'd come, and I find retracing my steps very dull. It turns out that taking a vehicle from Ushuaia to Punta Arenas wasn't as straight forward as I'd hoped, but after a few emails and some help from three different countries, it looked like I'd got it sorted [1].

I went to check in my bags and when they saw the size of the panniers they asked to have a look at the bike. It transpired that they had been expecting a bicycle with a motor and not a "moto, moto!" as Fernando kept saying over the phone. Having become excited about the trip I was now worried about it not coming off, or envisaging falling off a gangway with the bike between the ship and the dock. So it was with a sense of intrepidation that I went to the dock, passed through customs fairly seamlessly with the help of the Australis representative. Checked into my berth (very comfortable) and get a call that my bike's about to be loaded, so grab my camera and run out. They've swung a crane round and lowered a cargo net which they've laid out on the deck. Wheel the bike onto the deck and then they feed the ends through various bits of the frame, attach it to the hook and take up the tension. By this stage other members of the crew have come outside to have a look. "Have you had any other motorbikes on the ship?" I ask. "No, this is the first". Which is cool, but from my perspective nerve-wracking, although all I'm picking up from the crew is a sense of intrigue! Very quickly it's level with the top deck, 6 stories up and I have to run aboard to meet the bike up top. By the time I'm there the cargo net's been untied and I wheel it along the top deck and put it, partially under cover behind a lounge/bar area on the starboard side where he crew lash it to the side of the boat, using what appears to me to be a fairly small length of rope and a small number of knots, but they're the experts.


Then it's into the bar for a welcome drink (Pisco Calafate for me) and a safety talk before the ship departs and heads down the Beagle Channel and then we're called down for dinner. Food is amazing and we'd been told that as this was an "expedition cruise" there was no need to dress for dinner [2]. Then to the bar (it's a free bar) and take the opportunity to make a couple more entries in the "beer diary" my brother had given me before retiring to my cabin. The weather was starting to pick up and the ship was starting to roll heavily in the seas and I took the photo on the left to show the angle the ship was leaning at.




Thursday 20 March

At about 3am wake up as the boat's moving through particularly heavy seas. My mind goes to my bike and after an hour or so of this I dress and head up to find out how she's doing. Sailor's knot tying skills have apparently not diminished and she was still there and very secure, even though the wind was howling around. At 6 everyone is woken up and told to get ready for the first trip on the ribs to Cape Horn island. I was amazed they were even considering it, but after about 45 minutes the Captain made the call that it wasn't safe and the excursion was abandoned. We circled off the north east side of the island for a while and multiple photo opportunities before heading back up the way we came. Where we were the wind speed being shown on the screens charting our progress said 70 knots (80 mph / 129 km/h) or force 12 [3].

Although it was disappointing to not get onto the island, and also not to actually round the Cape [4], it was an amazing experience to be at the Cape in the sort of conditions which gave the place it's reputation. And I think that it's probably fitting. I think there would be something a little bit wrong if the least seafaring member of my family (which I have no problem admitting I am) was the first to round the Cape.

So then to breakfast, which seems emptier than supper, the night and the motion having claimed the appetite of some of those on board. Then it's a packed schedule involving a film on Shackleton's failed expedition to cross the Antarctic ice pack, but very successful recovery of the crew, lunch and a presentation on the native flora and fauna and the inhabitants whose fires gave Tierra del Fuego its name. The latter was in preparation for the afternoon's excursion to Wulaia (Yangan for beautiful bay) and a walk up hill, filled with interesting information and beautiful views (below) then torrential snow. However, at the bottom of the hill, as well as a museum, there's a trestle table set up where we were served hot chocolate, and if you felt so included, the addition of a tot of whisky. I felt so inclined, and there were some who forewent the hot chocolate.

Supper and the activities continued, including my first (and I have no doubt last) employment as a male model (for the ship's on board clothing emporium - I looked disturbingly similar to Captain Birdseye), followed by bingo and karaoke (involving a duet of an, I think, Pink song in which I was massively carried by Javiera, a member of the expedition crew).

Friday 21 March
A morning of talks on the history of the Magellan straits (a lot on glaciers and Magellan, and some about the "pirate Drake"), a lesson on knot trying (favourite was the Devils ladder) and then a presentation on Chile and all the amazing things there are to see and do in the country (including some wine tasting). Then lunch and the visit to the glacier, which is great, if damp as it rains for most of the visit. A bigger glacier than at Ushuaia and more visible. And although something apparently falls of it later, I miss it! More hot chocolate and whisky, back on the boat, hot shower, a briefing on the next morning's visit to see the penguins and supper. After supper there's an auction of a chart of the ships route to the Horn, which I bid for but don't win - probably a good idea as I'm not sure what I'd do with the large plastic chart case that it comes with. However, in the raffle, I do win the ship's ensign which had been flying up until then (and as a result was looking quite ragged)!

Saturday 22 March
An early start and for a while it looks like the weathers not going to be good enough to land (the wind has picked up again) so in the meantime everyone enjoys the most amazing sunrise. However, we get the green light and so it's off to see Magellan penguins (again), although now I have a better understanding of their behaviour after the lecture the previous day.


Then it's a short cruise south to Punta Arenas, but we don't go come into port. Apparently the winds have picked up so much that they've closed the port in the centre of town, and after being in a holding pattern off shore for a couple of hours (during which time I see the most amazing, complete rainbow I think I've ever seen), the decision is made to go to the harbour slightly out of town and land there. Even that's not straight forward though, and we need two tugs to nudge us alongside the dock. Everyone then gets off the boat, apart from me, who has to wait for the bike to be unloaded. Initially we wait for the wind to drop a bit, but then I think everyone gets a bit bored and so we do it as quickly as possible. I see it come off the top deck and by the time I'm on the dock it's down, but appears to be in one piece so I don't think it was dropped! Then the moment of truth - after 3 days of a South Atlantic salt water jet wash, does she start... first go. Customs and then a slightly unsteady ride into town (sea legs and motorbikes don't mix), for my first night on Chilean soil in this trip after an amazing three days.

Notes:
1. I'd seen on a map that there appeared to be a car ferry that went from the area to Punta Arenas (on the Magellan Straits) and another that went a lot further to Puerto Natales. However, I then found out that the ferry went from Puerto Williams, across the Beagle Channel and (importantly) in Chile (and also home to the most southerly post office in the world). There were two companies that ran boats across the Beagle Channel, between Ushuaia and Puerto Williams, but it was essentially a large rib, and so it wouldn't be possible to take my bike on it. I'd asked in some of the travel offices in Ushuaia and everyone seemed to think it was impossible. Then online I found a company that might be able to help. Wrote to Luke at Swoop Travel (based in Bristol, UK), who put me in touch with Marisol at Australis (based in Santiago, Chile) who spoke to the ship and Fernando (in Ushuaia, Argentina), who said that they should be able to get the bike on a boat (cruise ship), leaving on the Wednesday evening. It would last 3 nights and would go via Cape Horn! Although it was more money than I'd anticipated spending I went for it, on the basis that "how often are you going to get the chance to take your motorbike to Cape Horn?"
2. Which was fortunate as my black tie didn't make the cut when I was deciding it I could get away with 3 pairs of socks...
3. I know that the ship had registered winds of 130km/h at about 3am as we made our way to the Cape - it was this particularly bad weather which woke me and sent many passengers running to the heads. Cape Horn's official weather station reported winds of 40knots (a relatively tame force 8) at 6am the day we were there. Normally it also sends in a response at 9am but it didn't on that day - I like to think that's because it was too windy for the lighthouse keeper to take the reading (a family live on Cape Horn Island).
4. The route we did went out and back and didn't actually go round the Cape. As a result I can't legitimately put a gold hoop ear ring in my right ear, or put one foot on the table - privileges traditionally reserved for those who have rounded the Cape from East to West. One of the things I didn't get to see first hand, as a result of not getting onto the island, is the monument to all the sailors that have died in and around the Cape. The statue is of an albatross, turned sideways in on the wind (see below a linked image I found on the web) and a that I took picture of a bird (not an albatross I think), doing a similar thing.

Next to the statue is a poem by Sara Vial, which I think is rather beautiful and so have included below, in English as well as the original Spanish (I think the latter sounds better).


So el Albatros que te espera
en el final del mundo.
Soy el alma olvidada de los marinos muertos
que cruzaron el Cabo de Hornos
desde todos los mares de la tierra.
Pero ellos no murieron
en las furiosas olas,
hoy vuelan en mis alas,
hacia la eternidad,
en las última grieta
de los vientos antárticos.

I am the albatross who awaits you
at the end of the world.
I am the forgotten soul of the dead seamen
who sailed across Cape Horn
from all the seas of the world.
But they have not died
in the fury of the waves,
today they fly on my wings,
towards eternity,
in the last crevice
of the antarctic winds.

Tierra del Fuego and Ushuaia

"El fin del mundo o donde todo comienza" - "The end of the world, or where it all begins"

I've loved Tierra del Fuego and really liked Ushuaia as a city. Having learned about Magellan and Drake's circumnavigations as a 10 year old, and how they found a path through to the Pacific and then subsequently hearing people talk of Cape Horn in a tone of awe and respect, the area has had a latent sense of magic with me that I wasn't fully conscious of. However, on leaving Rio Gallegos on a very windy day, but with an enormous sense of relief that the bike was running properly again for the first time in a week, and successfully negotiating my first border crossing to get into Chile, it was amazing to get to Punta Delgado where the road runs into the Magellan Straits to wait for the ferry. The wind was incredibly strong and all there was to do was wait (I've learnt that this is the norm in Patagonia). Even the wait was an experience, chatting to other bikers, having maté for the first time, and then, as the day was coming to an end the ferries started running again. The crossing was windy and rough, but the bike stayed upright and then rode off the boat onto the land of fire. Three weeks later as I was heading in the opposite direction I saw some motorcyclists coming off the boat and could hear them whooping to themselves inside their helmets. The crossing just has that sort of effect on you.

The voiceover is: "It’s Iain, it’s Friday, I’m crossing the Magellan Straights, hopefully my bike is upright, this is awesome"

Then there are the mountains. After a couple of weeks of flatness, or very slight hills, as you leave Rio Grande you can spy ice capped mountains, although at first you might think they're clouds on the horizon. Tierra del Fuego is at the border of two plates, and the mountain range just north of Ushuaia is the border and creates the most amazing motorcycle ride up and over.

Then you have Ushuaia itself, just after the most southerly ski resort in the world. The city's not particularly attractive, but its charm lies in the fact that it feels like it's the end of the world, a real frontier town with an eclectic mix of permanent residents, new arrivals seeking a fresh start and visitors, from cruise ship passengers to cyclists and motorcylists (looking for the end of the road, either at the beginning, end or middle of their travels) to scientists on their way to the Antarctic. I spent most of the three days there walking around with a broad smile on my face, and not just because I was there for St Patrick's day.

There's a glacier 8km out from the city centre (my first in Latin America and at this stage hadn't been spoiled by Perito Moreno) with great views over the town and the Beagle Channel.

Then about 20km out of town there's a national park which is amazingly pretty, with mirror calm lakes and stunning views, and from my perspective, then end of the road (Ruta 3).

Leg 1 - Buenos Aires to Ushuaia

Route summary: Azul, Carmen de Patagones / Condor, Las Grutas, Peninsula Valdes, Gaimon, Rada Tilly, Puerto San Julian, Rio Gallegos, San Sebastian,Ushuaia
Days: 22
Zero mileage days: 6
Distance (point to point): 2,348km
Distance (driven): 4,418km
Inefficiency factor (Driven/P2P): 1.88Avg. speed: 201km/day

Click here for detail.

tl;dr

The first leg was as far as I'd planned a route, if "head south until you get to Ushuaia" can be called a plan or a route. On asking about roads in Buenos Aires I was warned off Route 3 (for the early section at least) as traffic is bad and there's a lot of lorries / camiones and told that the further south you go the windier it gets, until you may be physically unable to stay on the motorbike...

With this in mind, and the nagging doubt that maybe I wasn't prepared for this, I headed off at lunchtime on the Saturday of Carnaval, as partygoers started to rouse themselves for another day of bacchanalia.

The bike fully loaded on the first day

Apart from going slightly the wrong way, the first day is fairly straightforward and I arrive in the town of Azul around late afternoon. The only thing of note on the route was a diversion around an accident. However, instead of a contraflow the diversion "boxed around" the accident using dirt tracks, during which I was sandwiched between a truck in front, throwing up a huge, impenetrable dust cloud, and a car behind. Given it was the first time on the bike with weight off-road, it was an informative experience [1], and I was only disappointed none of it was on film! In Azul some very friendly people showed me where the campsite was. Got there, set up my tent, had a shower and made supper (I didn't have a gas canister for the stove so siphoned some fuel out of the petrol tank, which although messy, was a useful test of the fuel pump) and started to think that maybe I could do this after all.

Camping

At the campsite there were a number of interesting characters - another motorcyclist (I think in the Argentinian Army) enjoying the long weekend with his wife, a group of Citroen 2CV enthusiasts having an enjoyable night and some guys who were trying to find out if I was a Boca Juniors or Rio Plata fan (I'm still working out how to diplomatically say I don't like football but like rugby in spanish).

Day 2 was a straightforward run south, bypassing Bahia Blanca and trying as far as possible to stay on smaller roads before joining the 3 is unavoidable. Just south of Bahia Blanca cross the Colorado river and enter Patagonia (see right). A quick, early evening visit to Carmen de Patagones, a pretty, old town on the north side of the river, with Viedma [2] on the opposite banks, a larger, more commercial town. A very friendly security guard watched my bike while I had a look around town then went to a very dusty campsite about 20km out of town in a resort area. Not what I had planned but it's too late and too dark to argue about it now.

Day 3 was a learning day [more here], involving the bike being on its side for the first (and second) time, me using two tools I wouldn't have brought with me if it wasn't for the advice I got from Fabrice before I left, but also my first intentional piece of riding on unsealed roads, which was great fun and left me in the Argentinian seaside resort of Las Grutas where I decided I'd stay for two nights in a proper bed to recover and enjoy the last nights of Carnaval surrounded by Argentinian families on holiday.

From Las Grutas on to Puerto Madryn and Peninsula Valdez, which looks deceptively small on a map, but the isthmus is about 80km and the round trip I did the following day (to see Sea Lions, Elephant Seals and Magellan Penguins) was about 180km. On the island I met a number of lovely people, a British couple who'd hired a 4x4 and were blasting their way across Patagonia, another British couple, one of whom had been travelling on his motorbike since 2008 (he had only planned on being away for a year but since leaving the UK has travelling across Europe, Asia and the Americas and was two weeks off finishing and heading home when I met him), and an Argentinian lady who was very keen to make sure that I knew that we were friends [3].

In comparison I'm barely riding to the shops

Then from Peninsula Valdez down to Trelew and Gaiman, which were settled by the Welsh and there are still a significant number of Welsh speakers. I had a great Welsh tea - I didn't know such a thing existed - but it was the best cup - well pot - of tea I've had in Latin America, with a large plateful of different cakes and breads and jams (which I obviously finished).

Welsh Tea - Like a Devon one but without clotted cream

Gaiman and my decision to take a shortcut probably added time as the shorter route was flooded and while taking a track to box round the water feature, dropped the bike. Hot and sweaty and back on the trail, head to Punta Tombo and the largest settlement of Magellan Penguins in the world (more about penguins here).

Magellan or Patagonian penguin

Then, thinking that I can stay on the more "interesting" unpaved roads, head south to Camarones. It's about 5:30 and I'm flowing from turn to turn on gravel and packed mud. The sun is starting to go down and soften the colours of the red/brown landscape. I'm skirting the coast , with the Atlantic on my left and some slight hills and I honestly wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Somewhere I have some helmet cam footage which might give you some indication as to what it was like.

An hour later the bike's on the side of the road, in a number of pieces, having spilled about a litre of oil onto the trail from a cracked crank case and I'm wondering whether the whole adventure has come to an end less than a week before I set off from Buenos Aires [more here].

Camp, try and sleep and get up the next morning and set about getting the bike running again. Eventually get it going around 1 or 2pm (again, thanks to Fabrice) and ride (carefully) to Camarones, about 60km away, refuel (the bike and me) and then head on to Rada Tilly where I eventually find somewhere to sleep, some food and send the "I've dropped my bike" email back home...




Rada Tilly to Puerto San Julian is a cautious but straightforward run down the 3 and a night in a town where signs of the Malvinas are becoming more apparent (100m from the hotel I'm staying in - I'm spending the night in comfort as I'm feeling sorry for myself - is a fighter jet from the conflict on a plinth).

The next day on to Rio Gallegos via Santa Cruz (another smallish, windswept port). As I'm pulling into Rio Gallegos I start to get trouble with the gearbox (or caja de cambio as I now know it's called in spanish), it's sometimes sticking in some gears and can take a couple of attempts to shift up or down which I mention when I take it into a garage to be looked at the next day. The end result is that I'm in Rio Gallegos for four nights while my bike's fixed and I'm given the two teeth from one of the cogs in the gearbox that had sheared off. I don't think I could have left it any later, but am still a little proud that my roadside repairs managed to get it another 1,200km. The upside is a relatively relaxed couple of days in the windy, and although not amazing, far from charmless, city of Rio Gallegos.

This is what the wind does to clouds in Rio Gallegos

From Rio Gallegos and I get my first real experience of the Patagonian wind on the way to the border crossing into Chile and beyond that the Magellan Straits. A 4-5 hour wait for the ferry to start running (it's too windy) enjoyably spent with some LAMAs [4] on their way to a motorcycle meet in Rio Grande. Eventually get on the third ferry, have an amazing trip across the Magellan Straits onto Tierra del Fuego and have a good evening run to Cerro Sombrero where the garage is closed, but chance the extra 100km to San Sebastian and push on. Have an interesting [1] ride in the dark on unpaved roads to the border, another closed petrol station and a hotel with no rooms, so end up camping outside the petrol station, and get my first experience of how cold it can get at night.

Mountains! (After 2,500km of flat pampas it's pretty special)

Over the Garibaldi pass

The next day a fairly straightforward ride to Rio Grande, and then one of the most spectacular rides I'll ever experience to the mountains, over the Garibaldi pass and down into Ushuaia, sat on the northern bank of the Beagle Channel and surrounded by snowcapped mountains. I'd arrived at the end of the world.

Notes:
1. Euphemism for crapping myself.
2. In "Idle Days in Patagonia" by WH Hudson (I read some of it onboard a boat later in the trip) there's an interesting story of the Brazilians trying to take Carmen de Patagones in the mid Nineteenth century, where the outnumbered locals managed to successfully defend the city through various deceptions that led the Brazilians to think that the odds were against them.
3. Afterwards it occurred to me that this was a response / reaction to the Malvinas / Falklands situation. I can honestly say that, as of writing this, I have received nothing but kindness and friendliness from all the Argentinians I've met, and I hope that they would have the same experience in the UK.
4. Latin American Motorcycle Association members.