March 20 Day 33
We got up, had a good breakfast and took a cab to the bus station. We found our bus and the Chinese-American group we met on the trail was on our bus, so we said hi. We took the bus through to El Calafate passing through Chilean and Argentinian customs. This meant lining up but they weren't looking for trouble and everyone got stamped quite quickly and we got on our way.
They didn't sell tickets for El Chalten in Puerto Natales so we had to buy them quickly in El Calafate. The problem was that El Chalten was known for having no ATM so we had to quickly get Argentinian cash, our tickets and hopefully some lunch. The info desk told me there was an ATM at booth 10, which was wrong. Several fellow travelers said they were only in town, which was 2 km away. The next bus out was five hours later, so we quickly got the last 2 tickets for the bus from a vendor who assured me that El Chalten has an ATM now. With all of this rushing around the bus station, it was really annoying how so many backpackers are unaware of what's on their backs. They block lines, thwack other when they turn and are otherwise pretty oblivious to how wide they have become.
The trip to El Chalten was about 3 hours and during that time we saw maybe a half dozen farms that weren't deserted. The land was uniformly rolling hills with brown grass and bushes with very little signs that people existed other than the road and some fences. Every once in awhile a yellow SOS post was visible, I guess for people who are lost in the desert and need to signal for help. The road went beside a wide river, but the expected greenery around it wasn't there. Other than a few extra bushed, the land didn't seem to benefit from the presence of this water.
We stopped at a restaurant about an hour into our trip, but they had empanadas and I had an American $5 and so we ate. The place had a history posted on the wall, and apparently Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid came through here, followed a little later by the authorities asking about some gringos. I didn't realize that they made it so far south.
As we headed into El Chalten we had a clear sunny day to see the mountains in front of us and many of our fellow riders walked down the aisle to take a picture of it through the driver's window. Before getting into town, the bus stopped at the Glaciers national Park office for a mandatory talk by a ranger. This turned out to be really useful, as he went over all of the hiking trails, park rules and the fact that today's sun was rare so we should take advantage of it.
We arrived in town and sought out the ATM at the bus terminal. Whoever designs these things needs to kicked upside the head - it kept cancelling transactions and not telling us the problem, which turned out to be that you couldn't take out more than 4000 pesos (About $140). Once that was solved, we had money and so went to find out hostel.
It turned out to be a nice place, sort of felt that the building had past grandeur but the woman running it was really friendly and we had a large room with an ensuite bathroom. We caught our breath there but heeded the ranger's advice that clear days in Chalten were rare and headed out to the shortest hike on the map, Condor Lookout.
It was only a 30 minute hike but it was mainly uphill (100m elevation) and Meg was still feeling the effects of her sickness. We made it, though, and it gave us an excellent view of the town and the mountains beyond. A few people were up there with mega-cameras awaiting the sunset but we just climbed around and enjoyed the scenery.
The climb back down was much easier and we got to see an armadillo in its den, not really caring about the tourists taking its picture. Back in town, Meg needed chicken but the place recommended in Lonely Planet didn't exist (we later found out that Lonely Planet just got the address wrong). We stopped into a pasta place and bumped into our British friend from the W hike, xxx, who was dining after completing one of the most strenuous hikes El Chalten had to offer. The wait was 40 minutes, so we booked the place for the next night and continued hunting.
Most places are pizza and burger joints and many advertise the fact they sell beer and wine above anything to eat. A place at the corner was mainly promoting beer but we saw people eating what looked like tasty food inside. the menu confirmed that they cooked chicken, so we were in. Meg got two huge pieces and I had an Argentinian stew that tasted like Quebec split pea soup with a ton of bacon and chorizo piled into it. Hearty.
After that it was back to our room for a solid sleep after talking with the evening clerk about rock climbing in BC.
We got up, had a good breakfast and took a cab to the bus station. We found our bus and the Chinese-American group we met on the trail was on our bus, so we said hi. We took the bus through to El Calafate passing through Chilean and Argentinian customs. This meant lining up but they weren't looking for trouble and everyone got stamped quite quickly and we got on our way.
They didn't sell tickets for El Chalten in Puerto Natales so we had to buy them quickly in El Calafate. The problem was that El Chalten was known for having no ATM so we had to quickly get Argentinian cash, our tickets and hopefully some lunch. The info desk told me there was an ATM at booth 10, which was wrong. Several fellow travelers said they were only in town, which was 2 km away. The next bus out was five hours later, so we quickly got the last 2 tickets for the bus from a vendor who assured me that El Chalten has an ATM now. With all of this rushing around the bus station, it was really annoying how so many backpackers are unaware of what's on their backs. They block lines, thwack other when they turn and are otherwise pretty oblivious to how wide they have become.
The trip to El Chalten was about 3 hours and during that time we saw maybe a half dozen farms that weren't deserted. The land was uniformly rolling hills with brown grass and bushes with very little signs that people existed other than the road and some fences. Every once in awhile a yellow SOS post was visible, I guess for people who are lost in the desert and need to signal for help. The road went beside a wide river, but the expected greenery around it wasn't there. Other than a few extra bushed, the land didn't seem to benefit from the presence of this water.
We stopped at a restaurant about an hour into our trip, but they had empanadas and I had an American $5 and so we ate. The place had a history posted on the wall, and apparently Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid came through here, followed a little later by the authorities asking about some gringos. I didn't realize that they made it so far south.
As we headed into El Chalten we had a clear sunny day to see the mountains in front of us and many of our fellow riders walked down the aisle to take a picture of it through the driver's window. Before getting into town, the bus stopped at the Glaciers national Park office for a mandatory talk by a ranger. This turned out to be really useful, as he went over all of the hiking trails, park rules and the fact that today's sun was rare so we should take advantage of it.
We arrived in town and sought out the ATM at the bus terminal. Whoever designs these things needs to kicked upside the head - it kept cancelling transactions and not telling us the problem, which turned out to be that you couldn't take out more than 4000 pesos (About $140). Once that was solved, we had money and so went to find out hostel.
It turned out to be a nice place, sort of felt that the building had past grandeur but the woman running it was really friendly and we had a large room with an ensuite bathroom. We caught our breath there but heeded the ranger's advice that clear days in Chalten were rare and headed out to the shortest hike on the map, Condor Lookout.
It was only a 30 minute hike but it was mainly uphill (100m elevation) and Meg was still feeling the effects of her sickness. We made it, though, and it gave us an excellent view of the town and the mountains beyond. A few people were up there with mega-cameras awaiting the sunset but we just climbed around and enjoyed the scenery.
The climb back down was much easier and we got to see an armadillo in its den, not really caring about the tourists taking its picture. Back in town, Meg needed chicken but the place recommended in Lonely Planet didn't exist (we later found out that Lonely Planet just got the address wrong). We stopped into a pasta place and bumped into our British friend from the W hike, xxx, who was dining after completing one of the most strenuous hikes El Chalten had to offer. The wait was 40 minutes, so we booked the place for the next night and continued hunting.
Most places are pizza and burger joints and many advertise the fact they sell beer and wine above anything to eat. A place at the corner was mainly promoting beer but we saw people eating what looked like tasty food inside. the menu confirmed that they cooked chicken, so we were in. Meg got two huge pieces and I had an Argentinian stew that tasted like Quebec split pea soup with a ton of bacon and chorizo piled into it. Hearty.
After that it was back to our room for a solid sleep after talking with the evening clerk about rock climbing in BC.
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| The Fitz Roy peak which overlooks El Chalten. |
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| Our armadillo buddy wasn't too worried about us. |
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| The town with mountains above from today's lookout. |
An armadillo!!!
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