March 26 Day 39
We got up at our own pace and served ourselves breakfast. We headed downtown to the agency with the penguin tours and they suggested we use a share taxi to get to the penguin port. With some time to kill we found a shop that had great postcards of the indigenous people dressed for ceremonies and had time to pick up a nice coffee before figuring out how to get a share taxi.
The share taxis all have numbers and destinations on the signs on their roofs, but you have to know which number you want of what your destination is called. They wouldn't stop for us by the main square but a woman told us to look for them on the previous block and we got one. The 15 minute drive cost us about a dollar each and the driver was very friendly.
The port office was full of tired looking backpackers and skewed heavily towards 20 year olds and females, which must be the core penguin audience. Once on the boat we grabbed front seats, which turned out to be a mistake as the splashing made the front windows useless for looking at scenery (minimal anyway), we were over engines so we couldn't hear the announcements and we were forward of the video screens. Fortunately, there was lots of space on the ship so we got a table at the back and were entertained by a video about ecotours offered in Tierra Del Fuego.
On the island, tourists have to follow a loop path to the lighthouse and back with no leaving the path, eating food or using a flash. The Magellanic penguins were there in their holes, which reminded me of a whack-a-mole setup but Meg didn't like this comparison. We were told that the penguins there now were all 5 years or older and waiting for their feather to molt so that they could follow the younger ones north to their winter home. A few were by the shore, some going into the water but most were hanging out on land, either in or out of their burrows. Many were fuzzy with old feathers and you could see tufts of them blowing away as they groomed themselves. We talked to the ranger who was stationed there and was about to have his season end and look for work elsewhere. He was very friendly but had to rush off occasionally to get a tourist to turn off their flash or put their food away.
An unexpected feature was the number of seagull corpses on the island. Apparently a predatory bird, called a skua, keeps the population down by eating penguin eggs and juvenile seagulls who haven't learned how to fish for themselves.
We saw many penguins and they didn't care much about us, we were told that in December there were three companies that each came three times a day and so the penguins were quite desensitized to people.
After an hour of watching them mainly standing or gently grooming it was time to get back on the ship and this time we were entertained by videos of other trips we could take with the company. One of them made tiny Puerto Eden look like a real destination, which it wasn't.
On the way back we had no problem getting a share taxi and headed to the naval museum which was supposed to be open for another hour but wasn't. A group of Chileans wanted to visit it as well but a local storeowner told us that they close when the feel like it.
We walked to the main attraction in the city, which strangely was their cemetery. At the main entryway was a map with notable tombs pointed out and a displayboard with the times for funeral services for that day. In a sideroom was a large area like an airport lounge for mourner to wait their turn to go in to the funeral. One things that no one could explain for us was the presence of people in traditional clothing who seemed to accompany most funeral parties.
The trees were immaculately groomed and we found a tomb that was a scale model of one in Rome. The place was huge with a wide variety of many family plots. At the edge was a wall with 4 or 5 stories of little boxes for more modest tombs. One area seemed to be reserved for children, with toys and stickers in the boxes, but many were for adults as well.
We walked back, mailed postcards, picked up our laundry and headed back to our place. Our new hostelmates were a British couple. The owner didn't come in until mid-evening and we e-mailed him as we hadn't paid and we needed a taxi booked for early the next morning. He made it and we chatted for awhile, with him telling us that Chileans were much more reserved than Colombians or Argentinians. After that, we had to pack again and get to bed early.
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| Penguins going for a swim! |
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| Penguins walking around! |
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| Penguins and me! |
We got up at our own pace and served ourselves breakfast. We headed downtown to the agency with the penguin tours and they suggested we use a share taxi to get to the penguin port. With some time to kill we found a shop that had great postcards of the indigenous people dressed for ceremonies and had time to pick up a nice coffee before figuring out how to get a share taxi.
The share taxis all have numbers and destinations on the signs on their roofs, but you have to know which number you want of what your destination is called. They wouldn't stop for us by the main square but a woman told us to look for them on the previous block and we got one. The 15 minute drive cost us about a dollar each and the driver was very friendly.
The port office was full of tired looking backpackers and skewed heavily towards 20 year olds and females, which must be the core penguin audience. Once on the boat we grabbed front seats, which turned out to be a mistake as the splashing made the front windows useless for looking at scenery (minimal anyway), we were over engines so we couldn't hear the announcements and we were forward of the video screens. Fortunately, there was lots of space on the ship so we got a table at the back and were entertained by a video about ecotours offered in Tierra Del Fuego.
On the island, tourists have to follow a loop path to the lighthouse and back with no leaving the path, eating food or using a flash. The Magellanic penguins were there in their holes, which reminded me of a whack-a-mole setup but Meg didn't like this comparison. We were told that the penguins there now were all 5 years or older and waiting for their feather to molt so that they could follow the younger ones north to their winter home. A few were by the shore, some going into the water but most were hanging out on land, either in or out of their burrows. Many were fuzzy with old feathers and you could see tufts of them blowing away as they groomed themselves. We talked to the ranger who was stationed there and was about to have his season end and look for work elsewhere. He was very friendly but had to rush off occasionally to get a tourist to turn off their flash or put their food away.
An unexpected feature was the number of seagull corpses on the island. Apparently a predatory bird, called a skua, keeps the population down by eating penguin eggs and juvenile seagulls who haven't learned how to fish for themselves.
We saw many penguins and they didn't care much about us, we were told that in December there were three companies that each came three times a day and so the penguins were quite desensitized to people.
After an hour of watching them mainly standing or gently grooming it was time to get back on the ship and this time we were entertained by videos of other trips we could take with the company. One of them made tiny Puerto Eden look like a real destination, which it wasn't.
On the way back we had no problem getting a share taxi and headed to the naval museum which was supposed to be open for another hour but wasn't. A group of Chileans wanted to visit it as well but a local storeowner told us that they close when the feel like it.
We walked to the main attraction in the city, which strangely was their cemetery. At the main entryway was a map with notable tombs pointed out and a displayboard with the times for funeral services for that day. In a sideroom was a large area like an airport lounge for mourner to wait their turn to go in to the funeral. One things that no one could explain for us was the presence of people in traditional clothing who seemed to accompany most funeral parties.
The trees were immaculately groomed and we found a tomb that was a scale model of one in Rome. The place was huge with a wide variety of many family plots. At the edge was a wall with 4 or 5 stories of little boxes for more modest tombs. One area seemed to be reserved for children, with toys and stickers in the boxes, but many were for adults as well.
We walked back, mailed postcards, picked up our laundry and headed back to our place. Our new hostelmates were a British couple. The owner didn't come in until mid-evening and we e-mailed him as we hadn't paid and we needed a taxi booked for early the next morning. He made it and we chatted for awhile, with him telling us that Chileans were much more reserved than Colombians or Argentinians. After that, we had to pack again and get to bed early.
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