A Year In Motion

Leaving Rio de Janeiro was tough, it’s a city that has so much to offer and the longer you stay in it, the more it sucks you in. Some people even declare that there’s no city in the world like it. 2 hours later we were flying over the coast of Salvador, Brazil’s Colonial Capital and fourth largest city. Salvador is rich in history and culture due to its colonial past and its old town has achieved UNESCO World Heritage Status, but in truth the main reason that brought us there was the fact that it offers the cheapest one way flights to Europe in all of South America. Salvador was our last stop in our around the world adventure, and we were going to spend three days getting to know it.

Salvador is surrounded by beaches all around, and the farther you get away from the center the more beautiful the beaches are. Due to its strategic defensive geographical position in the Baía de Todos os Santos, Salvador was chosen by the Portuguese as the seat of their government. Innumerable amounts of slaves were brought from Africa to work for them, hence the big African population and cultural influence. It’s definitely not as cosmopolitan and chic as Rio, but its colorful old town is as pretty as you can get anywhere. Old traditions and customs are still very alive in Salvador. It is here where you can take part in traditional Brazilian – African influenced activities such as Capoeira and Terreiro. The historical centre is known as Pelourinho, which literally translates as pillory or punishment post, a name that binds this beautiful Portuguese legacy with its ugly and brutal colonial past. The Pelourinho is divided into the Upper and Lower City which are easily connected by two Art Deco elevators. Here you will find the largest concentration of Baroque style architecture outside of Europe.

A walk through the old town is a delight in its own, like stepping into the past or into Africa. The vendors of street food are all women, dressed in big white costumes. The rhythm of beating drums flood your ears as the sound comes out of buildings everywhere. In the middle of one of the streets we found an outdoors beauty salon where black women uniformed in African animalesque outfits sit their customers in plastic chairs in the sidewalk to work on their hair. Street massage was also another trade we encountered. You never know what you will find around the corner when walking the streets of Salvador. The sights, the sounds and smells are unique each day. This area is carefully guarded by police as it has the reputation of being the place in Brazil where you will most likely get mugged or robbed; but even with all the police, the darker it got the sooner we wanted to get out of there. Better safe than sorry at our last destination.

We were invited to watch a group lesson of capoeira in one of the most famous schools. Capoeira is recognized as a Brazilian sport, which is a combination of martial arts and dancing to the rhythm of drums. More than a sport, it’s an old ritual that originated in Angola. The slave populations practised Capoeira as their masters believed it was merely a dance rather than a disciplined martial art. 5 minutes into the session and the participants had broken into a heavy constant sweat. It’s definitely a great form of exercise and no surprise why almost all Brazilian men are very much in shape.

Another ritual which we were lucky to be invited to was a Terreiro. Terreiro has many meanings; it’s the set of customs and beliefs of the descendants of the African slaves, it’s a place where the ancient religious rituals take place, and it’s also the name of the ritual itself. Earlier in the day, we had visited the Terreiro (the place) in a small house at the end of an alley and we had seen a full grown chicken smashed into the doorstep of a house – not a typical welcome mat. Many Brazilians, as Cubans, still believe in their Orishas, or gods in black magic, and voodoo as they do in Africa. These religions were prohibited as Catholicism was declared the official religion in colonial Brazil, but in modern-day Salvador there is no hiding it. We inquired if we could attend and at what cost, and we were granted permission as long as Tony wore light colored long pants, and the cost would be whatever offering we wanted to make to the Orishas. Our hotel was too far so Tony showed up wearing capoeira white pants, which was the cheapest pants we found. At the Terreiro session there was a strange altar to the gods with even stranger offerings such as popcorn. The high priest, a man dressed in white women’s clothing and shoes, moves around in circles through the crowd dancing and chanting repetitively, as in a trance, to the rhythm of drums. Every once in a while he throws yellow flour to the people, who rub it into their bodies; he also throws it out into the street. After 30 minutes, the room seemed to be too small as more and more devotees of African origin came in to chant, dance and pray. We were all sweating and the ritual was repetitive so we left wondering if later it would get more intense. We don’t know what happened as it goes very late into the night, but as we exited we did see abundant creatures having a feast next to the smashed chicken and the flour the high priest threw out into the street. The creatures? Hundreds of cockroaches! Or embodiments of the gods perhaps? Terreiro is definitely an interesting experience to take part in.

The department of Bahia is reputed to have Brazil’s best food. We tried out their most famous dishes and they were really good. Acaraje is the staple street food. It’s a fried patty made of white beans which is filled with shrimps, spicy sauce and a nice yellow dough thick sauce. Traditionally most dishes in Salvador serve two, so if you are on your own or can’t agree on an item it’s an issue. The most famous dish is probably Moqueca, generally a prawn stew with coconut and served with rice and of course manioc (yellow flour). Breakfasts in Brazil are excellent as well. In all the hotels we stayed we had big tasty free breakfasts. There is a large variety of fresh fruits, a huge variation of sweets bread, egg variations and many meats; but we really liked their variation of omelette, a Beiju. It’s a sort of hard pancake with fillings inside, like an omelette, but no egg. They also grill big lumps of fresh cheese and serve it when the outside is crusty and the inside melted. Yummy!

Salvador is not just about sun, beaches and caipirinha, but a vibrant and authentic expression of Afro-Brazilian identity moving to a relentless beat in one of the most beautiful colonial settings in the world. It’s edgy, it’s beautiful, it’s rich, it’s poor, it’s Brazil! What a country to finish A Year In Motion! We are already thinking of coming back for the Football World Cup in 2014. And so, this is the end of 375 days of continuous travels, but definitely not the end of our travels, just a break which we approach with a whole bag of mixed emotions and what seems like a lifetime of memories. So Ireland here we come! And let the journey continue forever!

Time was running out for us, but we could not leave without visiting the UNESCO World Heritage Iguazu Falls shared by Argentina and Brazil. Both parks, on both countries received the UNESCO status due not only to the natural beauty, but to the great amount of rare and endangered fauna and flora. The falls are now a finalist for the “Natural Wonders of the World” Competition. Unfortunately we could spare only one day for the visit. Normally that would be ok for visiting one side, but we wanted to do both the Argentinian and Brazilian sides. We had to take our luggage with us and go through immigration at the border in between the visit as that was the end of Argentina for us and Iguazu was our entry point into Brazil. It was one hell of an exhausting marathonic day, but well worth the trouble for the impressive sight the falls are.

Our visit took place during the last days of rainy season so we ended quite wet, both from the constant rainfall and the powerful mist of the cascades on the Brazilian side; but they say this is the perfect time to visit the falls as you get to see them at their mightiest. Iguazu Falls consist of 275 falls over a course of 2.7 km on the Iguazu River, with 80% of the falls being on the Argentinian side. The falls separate the Iguazu river into upper and lower river. In the Argentinian sides there are walking trails where you can opt to see the falls from the middle or from the top. The biggest concentration of water is at the U shaped falls called the Devil’s Throat (Garganta del Diablo), the actual border between the two nations. This is where the cataracts are at their mightiest and tallest, at an altitude of 80 meters high. An eco-train takes you close to the Argentina’s Devil’s Throat and from there you walk 1 km along the walkway over the Iguazu River to reach it. The amount of water falling at the site, its power and speed is a delight to watch, nature at its wildest. From there you are just a a few steps from Brazil, and you can even see the spectators at Brazil’s side and version of the Devil’s Throat.

Water is the main player at Iguazu but the fauna and flora are also part of the show. Plentiful bright green diverse vegetation gives Iguazu its beauty. A large variety of over 400 butterflies inhabit the area, some with an unbelievably beautiful combination of bright design on its body; as well almost 500 birds call Iguazu home, one of the largest concentrations on earth. We saw an amazing species of small birds that actually live inside the falls. You can watch as these birds fly directly at a high speed into the falls with no hesitation and find a resting spot behind the water. And the resident pet of the falls is the coati, a mischievous raccoon – opossum type mammal that will steal your food if it has its way, if unsuccessful you will find them digging the ground with their elongated noses to get aliments. They look cute and are very accustomed to visitors, they will let you touch them; but that would be a bad move as some of them carry rabies. We also got a glimpse of a mountain rat, which looked very cute with freckles and all, but a rat nonetheless. While we were there the rainy foggy day and the dark clouds gave the setting an ominous feeling, which to me went perfectly well with the site it is. The Guarani indigenous tribe was the original inhabitant of the region, but sadly Portuguese and Spanish conquerors destroyed their habitat, enslaved or killed them.

Because of our deadline and our reluctance to take group tours we opted to take a costly taxi ride from the Argentinian Falls to the Brazilian Falls stopping at immigration. Now we know it was unnecessary. We saw everything on both sides without getting up so early and still had time to spare at the end of the day, the cheap public bus option would have suited us fine. The border crossing was really fast and easy, first time we didn’t even have to get out of the car.

The Brazilian side was a different story: very modern and efficient administration, plenty of transportation options, credit card facilities, and better personal service. Certainly they only own a small portion of the falls, but it’s the best. You have a picture perfect view of the multiple falls on the Argentinian side on the trail that leads you to the grand finale, Brazil’s Devil’s Throat. You can walk to it and get soaked by all the heavy mist. There is also an elevator which takes you to a viewing point on top of it all, from where you can watch the magic being created.

On the Brazilian side there are also plenty of adventure activities to do. Rapelling, Rafting, Kayaking are part of it, but most people do the boat ride which brings you upclose to the base of the Devil’s Throat. On The Argentinian side all adventure activities had been canceled for the moment due to a recent mortal accident. We had a fabulous time and if we had a choice to go back to one side it would definitely be Brazil. To learn more about the history of the falls and the doomed fate of its original inhabitants watch the excellent award winning film “The Mission”.

All our pictures on the Argentinian side can be found here, and the Brazilian ones here.

Cape Town had spent over 6 months at the top of our chart of the Best City in the World, although Ninfa was probably by now a little fed up of my constant reminder that because we still hadn’t seen Rio de Janeiro, the jury was still out. Now Judgement Day had come, is Rio really a heaven on Earth? Our case was going to be based on a leisurely examination of the scenes around Rio’s world famous attractions.

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We arrived into Santos Dumont airport on a domestic flight from Sao Paulo where we had connected from Iguazu, and took a public bus from there to Copacabana. The bus drove us through the Centro district of Rio, and numerous colonial buildings stood out gracefully amongst the concrete jungle of high rises. When we arrived in Copacabana, we made our first stop at the Rio tourist office. We had at least expected to get past Tourist Information before encountering our first linguistic hurdle, but the staff there spoke little to no English or Spanish. This was to prove a quite recurrent theme during our stay, although you can’t fault the Cariocas for effort in their helpfulness. We asked the lady at the tourist office if there were any no-go areas, and she waved her hand over half of the massive city map and said “it’s all safe”. Apparently, crime had ceased to be a problem in one of Latin America’s notoriously dangerous cities. A great start!

We had spent a good bit of time prior to arriving checking out hotel prices, and had decided to book nothing and pound the pavement and see if we could get a last-minute rate. Now Rio is huge, the Copacabana beachfront is itself 4km long, so this was perhaps not our brightest idea. On the other hand, when we went to see hotels in person that we had considered on the internet, they were little more than stinky prison cells. We ended up settling on a hotel a block from the beach at the tip of Copacabana in an area called Leme. It would have been fine for about $50 or $60, but in Rio, we paid $180! Heaven on Earth apparently has its price.

One of Rio’s lesser known features is that extensive stretches of rainforest still grow within this tropical capital’s city limits. And while there’s no rainforest without rain, we hadn’t expected our first night strolling through Ipanema to be spent running from canopy to canopy to find shelter from the heavy downpour. We took shelter in the formerly authentically famous and now touristy premises of the Garota de Ipanema cafe. It was here, in this cafe, that the legendary and multitalented Brazilian writer Vinicius de Moraes penned the lyrics to a song which Tom Jobim composed into the soundtrack that defines Rio to this day – Garota de Ipanema, The Girl from Ipanema.

Two caipirinhas later, we were back on the streets of Ipanema making our way to Brasileirinho. Brasileirinho is the sister restaurant of the better known Casa de Feijoada, but is about half the price, and is supposed to work out of the same kitchen. We took a table at the window and ordered the signature dish, Feijoada. Feijoada has its origins in Brazil’s colonial past, when the slaves, too poor to have meat, would collect leftovers from the master’s kitchen and stew them in beans. Leftovers generally took the form of ears, tails, feet and some similarly tasty bits left over for sausages and jerky. Since then, the humble Feijoada has climbed the social ladder to become one of Brazil’s most famous culinary delights. First out was a delicious bean soup served with chilis, which our Chilean waiter warned us to use with caution. Caution was optional and we were soon both breathing fire. And then came the full spread of a bowl of bean stew bubbling with the aforementioned meats, some crispy pork rind, extra beans, deep-fried yucca, rice, some farofa to thicken the sauce, and some slices of orange to aid digestion, and some lemon-infused cachaca which also helped digestion. It was a feast, a beggar’s banquet!

Brazil’s culinary richness did not stop there. Wherever you go in Brazil, you will be treated to some of the freshest and most abundant fruit on the planet – papaya, mango, strawberries, melons… and juice stores abound on almost every street corner. A little more upscale than your regular juice store are the palatial surroundings of the grand Confeitaria Colombo (http://www.confeitariacolombo.com.br), a belle époque café similar to the Cafe Tortoni in Buenos Aires, more Paris or Vienna than Rio de Janeiro. The Confeitaria Colombo provided a ray of sunshine on a second continuous dull day in Rio de Janeiro, some sort of record I’m sure. Ninfa opted for a selection of delicious Salgadinhos, deep-fried, salty, breaded balls stuffed with cod, prawn, crab or chicken among others. I chose one of the afternoon teas, the Cha Virginia Lane, which included more mouthwatering Salgadinhos, and a selection of the house pastries – Virginia had taste! Confeitaria Colombo is in the Centro area, and because of the poor weather, we spent a lot of our second day in Rio around here. The receptionist at our hotel had told us that this was a safe area, although his interpretation of safe was along the lines of “don’t wear a watch, and don’t bring a wallet”. Isn’t that the definition of dangerous?

Our next morning, a sunny morning!, we visited Corcovado, the site of the majestic Cristo Redentor statue, one of the landmarks of the world. A small train took us up the side of the towering mountain to the feet of the statue overlooking the city of Rio de Janeiro and the Guanabara Bay. The view was fantastic – tropical island mountains rising out of the bay, the long stretches of Copacabana and Ipanema beach, the lagoon, the bay of Botafogo and the domestic flights swerving around the Pao de Acucar (Sugarloaf) mountain. I don’t know if Jesus was consulted on his view, but it is divine! About 15 minutes after we arrived, a bank of cloud blew over covering us on almost every side – time to go.

From Corcovado, we made our way to nearby Santa Teresa. Santa Teresa is a formerly noble and now bohemian district that sits atop one of the mountains near the centre of Rio. We strolled along its streets, its well-supplied fruit shops, its designer boutiques (all local), and quirky cafés. We had been hoping to hitch a ride on one the famous bondinhos, Rio’s only existing tram service, but the schedule seemed to running a little slow. Instead, we continued downhill and on to the massive mosaic of the Escalera de Selaron. The brainchild of an eccentric Chilean artist, Jorge Selarón, the Escalera is a staircase of over 200 steps which he has been decorating with tiles for over 20 years. It’s a kaleidoscope of colour and you could spend hours admiring the tiles from all over the world – there’s even a few from Honduras and from Ireland. All tiles are donated, and the artist sells a few himself from his workshop along the stairway. We were lucky enough to bump into the man himself at work. Our wandering ended nearby under another of Rio’s landmarks, the Arcos de Lapa, an aqueduct which connects lower Rio Centro with the hills of Santa Teresa. At that moment, it was time for the beach. There was a hot tropical sun, and we weren’t taking it for granted.

We spent the rest of that evening and the following day beachfront along some of the most famous beaches in the world. What go by the name of promenades in other cities could best be described as catwalks in Rio, as the “tall, tanned, young and lovely” Cariocas, stroll along the trademark black and white mosaic footpaths which line the white sand beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema. We went swimming at sunset in the furious waves that crash in onto the sand. I asked a lifeguard if it was safe to swim in the waves, and he said no. So I asked if maybe it was better in Ipanema. He said no, it was worse. Even with no watch and no wallet? We still couldn’t resist taking a dip, but the strength of the ocean commands respect. We were being thrown around like pinballs only in the foam of the waves. It was awesome! On our last day, we did the same in Ipanema, and a little bit of last minute shopping for souvenirs of a city we both loved. And finally, on our last night, we met up with Abdes, an old friend of Ninfa’s who had also met us in Santo Domingo, in the Dominican Republic. He had just been transferred to Rio for his work, and we caught up over a few caipirinhas on what had been an eventful three months for all of us since last we met.

So what did the jury decide? Did Rio top the charts? Well, the jury’s still out on that one. This was my second time to Rio, and I still would go back at the drop of a hat. You don’t really need to do much in Rio to love it. It’s something to be felt as much as it is to be seen. So it’s still my number one, if there’s sun! And it was probably the cloudy weather in Rio and the warmth of welcome of the South Africans that kept Cape Town at the top of Ninfa’s chart. But we’ve agreed that 6 months in each city would be a workable compromise.

Check out our photos here, and read our next post for news from colonial treasure and cultural hotspot, Salvador do Bahia.

Travel Tips:

Feijoada is traditionally only served on Saturdays, and you will find a much better choice of places to eat on that day. Brasileirinho serves feijoada every day, and is less formal and less expensive than Casa de Feijoada – perfect for a dish which may not be to the liking of everyone.

Book your train ticket for Corcovado on the internet and try to be there early or late to avoid the crowds. Check the weather forecast too because if it’s cloudy, you’re not going to see anything.

One of the key factors in our decision to pick the Plancius for our Antarctic Expedition was that it would bring us south of the South Polar Circle. This can only be done late in the season once the ice has melted sufficiently for a boat to sail beyond the circle, but even then, ice conditions have been known to block the seas, so nothing could be taken for granted.

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So we were quite excited when we woke up on the morning of the 21st of March to great weather and relatively clear seas, even though on all sides we could see icebergs as big as islands dotting the horizon. Shortly after breakfast, we were summoned by our Expedition Leader to join his team on the bow of the ship, where they were busy passing out glasses of champagne to the passengers. A few minutes later, the captain confirmed our position and the ship’s horn was blown and the bell was rung in celebration of our passage south of latitude 66° 33′ 44″ South. This was a completely new sensation for Ninfa and I, although more than a few of our fellow passengers chose this moment to proudly declare that they were “bi-polar” having also been north of the Arctic Polar Circle. It was a happy moment for all on board. We had stocked up on quite a bit of bubbly in Mendoza so we ended up celebrating most of the day.

Having crossed the circle, we all now wanted to set foot on land south of the circle. Just as our passage south could not be guaranteed, a landing was even less likely. We anchored close to a small island called Detaille Island, and our expedition leader set off to inspect the landing site. We were so close, it was going to be very frustrating if we were not allowed to land. Fortunately, Rinie returned with good news. The ice-clogged bay could be navigated and we were going to land. Shortly afterwards, we were all on Detaille Island with the Adelie penguins and the fur seals, admiring the amazing views of icebergs crowded everywhere in the spectacular bays around us. Everyone was in high spirits and we had a few snowball fights in our short time on the island. Ninfa and I were on the last zodiac to leave the island, and we stopped for a quick look at some Weddell Seals before heading across the open water to the boat. And what a surprise was in store for us.

As we approached the ship, a pair of humpback whales, seemingly a parent and child, began surfacing right in front of us between our zodiac and the ship. We were even closer than our day on Cuverville Island, and the entire ship’s attention was on the show. It seemed like there was a better view from the deck, so we boarded again, and ran out to watch the rest of the spectacle. Check it out for yourself in the video below. The humpbacks, known as the species of whale with perhaps the greatest curiosity, took it in turns to surface beside our ship, and “spyhop” , a manoeuvre where the whale stands vertical in the water and raises its head above the surface to see above the water. The whales took a long time to have a look at us looking right back at them. The whole thing lasted around 20 minutes – absolutely amazing!

We bid farewell to the humpbacks and started sailing north again – going home. Going below the Polar Circle had turned out to be far beyond what we expected, and there was more to come. As we glided back north past the huge icebergs, a pod of 15-20 Killer Whales swam past us, their huge long dorsal fins cutting through the water like a knife and their trademark black and white heads surfacing against the backdrop of a huge berg. Just watching them, you could imagine their dominance in the oceans. Along with the leopard seal, they are the kings of the Antarctic jungle, the masters of this icy realm.

Our final stops in Antarctica struggled to live up to our previous experiences. But our last landing, on Damoy Point in Wiencke Island, made a fine attempt. We donned snow-shoes for a trek up the hill to the point of the peninsula. We were almost completely surrounded by a white landscape of sea, ice and mountain. We had been seeing these landscapes for over a week now, but it was still breathtaking. We continued on our trek along a wide icy slope, which actually serves as a runway for planes which land with supplies for the nearby British research station below us at Port Lockroy. And here we turned to nature for inspiration for our descent back to the shore. Penguins have a technique of climbing hills in zigzags, but prefer to descend by sliding on their bellies – there’s a very rich penguin somewhere who owns the patent for toboggans. We followed suit and slid the whole way down, a couple of hundred metres distance, on our bums. It really was seat of your pants stuff, and brought out the inner juvenile in a lot of us as we raced back up just to slide back down again. Penguins have it good!

The next day, our last in Antarctica did not have any landings, just a short zodiac cruise around the bays around the Melchior Islands. It was a wild, blizzardy day, and great to experience another extreme of the icy weather conditions. As luck would have it, we ended up on our last excursion with some of our greatest friends from the trip – John (Jack Nicholson’s double!), Will, Lance and Marja. And we all congratulated each other on a great trip, far exceeding even our wildest expectations.

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Our journey back through the Drake Passage proved a little less smooth than our trip down. Expecting the worst, the ship’s doctor was dispensing free travel sickness medication to the whole boat. Waoh – this was promising to be fun! And what die we get this time? Two or three hours of waves and then calm seas and fine sunshine. At least I thought so, but our short Drake introduction had loads of people engaging in inappropriate dinner conversation of how sick they’d been. Ninfa spent more or less the whole return journey hibernating in the cabin while the expedition team kept reminding us that being this lucky both ways on the Drake Passage is almost unheard of. And we ended up arriving back to Argentina ahead of schedule, giving us an opportunity to witness the Beagle Channel in all its glory, and even spotting Cape Horn, the southernmost point of the Americas, in the distance.

So how to summarise a trip to Antarctica – it’s difficult to close to find the words appropriate to close our story. One of the things we hadn’t expected was to meet such great people on board – in addition to John, Will, Lance and Marja, a big thanks has to go to Doug, Scottish Nicholas, Kathy, Cindy, Andrew and everyone on board for making our trip so great on board and off. But, the last words have to belong to Rinie, our expedition leader, who in our last ship’s meeting told us about his Antarctica bug, and what the polar regions mean to him. I’ll relate it as best as I can remember. Rinie has been working on Antarctic expeditions for over 20 years, and told us that when you are in Antarctica, you can be surrounded by thousands of penguins and yet your presence is felt, you are significant. He compared this to how he felt when he returned home to Amsterdam after his first voyage, and stood for a moment in a central city square. Here again, he was surrounded by thousands of people, and yet he felt insignificant. And since then, he has never stopped returning to the poles. It was a poignant and heartfelt story, and a fitting end to a voyage which we will always remember as something, indeed, very significant.

When I was a child, I had a large picture of a red Ferrari TestaRossa hanging over my bed. I used to dream that one day, I would own a Ferrari, or at least drive one. Well, when I was 19, I actually got to do that, drive one, not own one. A few years after the Ferrari, I replaced the Ferrari picture with one of a Humpback Whale, diving and holding his fluke tail perfectly against the horizon. Alas, here I was, already past 30, and I still had never seen a Humpback fluking. But that was about to change, many times over, in Antarctica.

Our twice daily excursions on our expedition to Antarctica were generally composed of around an hour sailing around in a zodiac of about 10 people, and another hour or so exploring the land by foot. And the zodiac tours were the absolute highlight of the trip. We had anchored overnight off the coast of Cuverville Island amidst numerous icebergs and an island covered in glaciers. The bay was covered in icebergs and we set off on a zodiac cruise first to get a closer look. As we cruised around the bay, one of the group caught a glimpse of a whale surfacing for air. Chris, our driver, approached slowly so as not to scare them off, and within a few minutes we were within 25 metres of a pair of humpback whales who were feeding. We watched them as they swam lazily around blowing a fountain of misty breath high in the air, and then diving deep, waving goodbye with a long, graceful flip of their fluke. Left me wondering what I’m going to hang on my bedroom wall next.

On a high, we headed for the island to check out the Gentoo Penguin colony. There are regulations that oblige tourists to keep a certain distance for the animals, but the animals themselves are not bound by this law. In general the penguins will move away from humans as we are quite big and they don’t know what to make of us. But a common trick is to lie on the ground, so that the penguins no longer feel intimidated, and wait. It’s pretty hard to find a clean piece of ground to lie on in a penguin colony as it’s stinky and more or less covered in pink penguin poo, and at this time of year, feathers. We were in Antarctica at the end of the moulting season when young and old shed their downy feathers. I found a relatively clean spot and lay down. Sure enough, not long after, the curious penguins were nipping at my coat and boots. They were very playful and some of them were even sneaking up on unsuspecting visitors while they were sitting down having a rest.

It wasn’t all fun though, and the Gentoo colony proved some of the harder facts of life. Some penguin chicks were visibly smaller than their peers, and it seems that they were either born too late in the season, or perhaps their parent had fallen foul of a predator and never returned. These pitiful penguin chicks were a tragic beauty. And all around the rookery, shady groups of Skuas, surveyed the scene, working to isolate and attack the weakest. The penguins would group up and scare off the skuas, but some penguin carcasses among the rocks suggested that the victor was not always the penguin. The Skuas are very aggressive birds, and several fights broke out among them. Check out the photos here.

That afternoon, we set sail for Neko Harbour, and our landing on the actual continent of Antarctica itself. Not a lot of cruises include a continental landing as it can be very hard to get past the ice, and the continent is typically steep cliffs and overhanging glaciers, almost impossible to access. We were all excited that we were going to land on the continent, but I don’t think anyone was expecting it to be so beautiful. Here we were, under a clear blue sky, surrounded on three sides by majestic snow-covered peaks and glaciers, cruising through a blanket of brash ice, past little icebergs with Crabeater seals drying off in the sun. It was spectacular!

Guaranteed that we would have an hour on shore, Ninfa and I opted to go for a kayak first through the brash ice which covered the bay. This was a lot of fun, as each paddle stroke had to push through the slushy ice on the surface. Numerous collisions occurred as we paddled up leads that led to dead-ends, ran aground on growlers (small icebergs, not angry seals), and paddled frantically to dodge the ship which had not dropped anchor for fear of an excessive impact with an iceberg. This was what we had expected, and we had a great time kayaking this day. But we were all eager to get on to the shore, the continent.

We climbed out of the kayaks into a zodiac and sped onshore. There was a trek through the Gentoo colony and up a steep rise to a lookout point. As we made our way briskly along, we stopped to watch an avalanche cascade down the slope of a mountain on the far side of the glacier between us. Further along, we stopped again, this time our heads turned by the roar of a huge chunk of ice being calved from the glacier, the birth of an iceberg. Before racing to the top, as the clock was ticking, we stopped to savour the moment. Ninfa, who I’m convinced is the only Honduran to ever stand on the Antarctic continent (subject to independent verification), sported all her national loyalties, a green scarf for Ireland (my eyes welled), a football shirt from Honduras, and a headscarf from Palestine, honouring all aspects of her noble heritage. I, true to character, withdrew from my bag a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey and, although I generally don’t drink it on ice, raised a toast to setting foot on the White Continent. As we returned to our zodiac, we passed a few stragglers who were posing with hastily made signs of 7/7, meaning they had now visited all 7 continents on Earth. It was at this point that Ninfa and I remembered we were only on number 6. Aah, I knew there was a reason to go to Australia or New Zealand. Alas, the finish line is in touching distance.

That night, the routine dinner in the restaurant was promising a twist. We had been told to dress warmly and assemble on the rear deck. Our expectation prior to booking was that the majority of passengers would be wealthy senior citizens, and not a lot of fun. It turned out however that the majority were young travellers, a lot of whom had booked last minute, and a generally lively and fun set of seniors. So when we assembled on the rear deck, and were told we were dining al fresco at an Antarctican barbeque, we knew we were in for a good night. Not only that, but there was free booze for the first hour too. On my first night on board the ship, I had worn my Philippines tracksuit top to dinner, and proved to be the guest of honour as all the restaurant staff were Filipino. We were best buddies, and as a result, the party night involved free booze all night for Ninfa and I and a few of our friends. And what a night, watching the sun set on Paradise Harbour, Filipino DJ, everyone on a high from our continental landing. And when the booze finally ran out, the Russian crewmen came, and Sergey, Sasha and Yuri took out the crew’s store of vodka. Cue arm-wrestling competitions and bare-chested dancing in sub-zero temperatures, and an amusing moment when a handstand went hilariously wrong due to an evil trick by the mischievous assistant (sorry Andrew!).

The following morning, we sailed through the Lemaire Channel, a narrow path through two looming cliffs and covered in icebergs. It’s supposed to be beautiful – we slept right through it. We did manage to get up for our morning expedition though as we hoped the fresh air might revive us. We had anchored in a foggy morning just off Pleneau Island, and were about to depart on a zodiac cruise through Iceberg Alley. If we didn’t know we were in Antarctica already, this was the moment. Antarctica is the only continent on Earth with no indigenous population. It is the land of ice and very few animals can even survive here. This was our opportunity to pass through its secret garden of immense, statuesque icebergs sculpted by the extremest forces of nature. We floated slowly around in the silent vastness of the bay, alone except for the Arctic Terns, tiny, graceful birds which migrate from pole to pole every summer, and a few Crabeater Seals resting on their immense beds of ice.

A more brutal side of the animal kingdom was revealed to us as we approached Pleneau Island. A rampant leopard seal had just killed his prey, a Gentoo penguin, and was peeling its skin by gripping the carcass in his huge jaws and violently thrusting his immense neck from side to side. Around it, petrels hopped on the water luring krill to the surface and gulls swooped in a mad scramble for scraps of flesh from the penguin. This was not a land intended for man.

And yet that afternoon, man’s relationship with this harshest of environments was revealed to us as we made a stop at the Vernadsky Research Station. Vernadsky is a Ukrainian station, known until the 1990s as Faraday Base, when the British sold it to Ukraine for the symbolic price of one sterling pound – the pound coin is kept in a case in the bar. Yes, a bar – of all days, I had just sworn in the morning that I’d never drink again – we were so enthusiastic that we were the first ones off the boat and had to wait for about 5 minutes before anyone else was even ready! The raison d’etre of Vernadsky is mainly to monitor climactic conditions in Antarctica and understand their relation to the world’s weather, as well as keeping check on the Ozone Hole which lies directly above Antarctica. One of the resident meteorologists gave us a brief tour of the small station before leading us upstairs to the leisure area. Here we were able to get our passports stamped and buy some postcards. The post service is highly unreliable in Antarctica and we are yet to hear of any of our postcards actually arriving yet. Next year, perhaps? Next to the post office is the Faraday Bar. The bar is famous as the southernmost bar in the world, and the Ukrainians at the base have a talent for brewing their own vodka – Antarctica’s official drink. We had been split up into 3 groups of 30 for the station visit, and as soon as we walked in, Keller, a Texan in our group, took out a hundred dollar bill and bought a round for the whole group. This saved Ninfa a dilemma as women are offered free shots in exchange for a bra which they hang in the bar. Although it’s $3 a shot, the barman called drinks on the house for everyone for the duration of our stay – no more money and no bras – which resulted in 30 quite tipsy tourists leaving 15 minutes later.

Our last stop at the Research Station was Wordie House, which was originally built in the 1940s and was the predecessor to the current station. The British Antarctic Society has preserved it as a museum where the life of the 1940s explorer and researcher can be imagined. It’s a small wooden building which looks all too fragile for its surroundings. Inside, cans of Bovril line the shelves and old woollen socks hang from the bunks. We even found an old cookbook with a recipe for Tournedos of Seal. It was one of three old houses that we visited in Antarctica, each of them seemingly frozen in time. The images of these houses and their contents enlivened my evening readings of the heroic voyage of Ernest Shackleton and the crew of the Endurance, testaments to the heroic age of Antarctic Exploration.

All that remains for us to complete our Antarctic Exploration is to cross the Polar Circle in the morning, and for news of that grand finale to our expedition, you’ll have to read our next post. For photos from this leg on our journey, see some of the highlights below, or the full story here: the historic Antarctic base at Wordie House, the modern research station (and bar!!!) at Vernadsky, lots of close-ups of seals in Port Charcot, icebergs, petrels, terns and a violent leopard seal in Iceberg Alley and Pleneau Island, the amazing Neko Harbour where we landed on the continent and where we kayaked, and Humpback Whales and thousands of Gentoo Penguins at Cuverville Island.

The 15th of March in Ushuaia was the kind day that’s just perfect for a pair of shorts and a snug skijacket. As we made our way with our bags to the port of Ushuaia, we were setting off on a summer trip with a difference – a 12 day, 11 night trip to the white continent of Antarctica and across the polar circle. From the very outset of our round the world trip, we had both agreed that Antarctica had to be a part of our journey, and it was one of the most anticipated destinations. And this was it.

Soon after boarding, we set sail, cruising into the glassy waters of the Beagle Channel, Ushuaia fading into evening in the distance behind us. Our first activity of our cruise was the Captain’s welcome and the entire boat assembled in the lounge to join a giant Russian man in a toast to a successful trip, and good weather in the Drake Passage. The Drake Passage, three words that can strike fear into the heart of the most seasoned seamen. Let’s hope for good weather he said. Let’s not! spoke the eyes of all the passengers around us, clearly trusting more in their own bravado than the wisdom of our Siberian captain. We would be sailing for the next two days across the Drake Passage between the tip of South America and the Antarctic Peninsula, the meeting place of the Atlantic and Pacific, stretching across the latitudes of the Furious Fifties and Shrieking Sixties, some of the wildest seas on Earth. Everything in our cabin was bolted shut and locked in place as we turned in for our first night’s sleep, awaiting the raging seas of the following day.

And so the 16th of March dawned, a glorious day, bright sunshine and calm seas. Maybe the captain took a wrong turn? Maybe he knows a shortcut? We trusted to his judgement, and admired the birds diving and disappearing behind the crests of waves, and others gliding effortlessly on the breeze behind our ship … groups of beautiful Pintado Petrels, lonesome albatrosses, and far off in the distance, a group of feeding Fin Whales, the second largest animal on the planet. The next day, our last on the world’s wildest seas, was just as calm – now where are we sailing? As Rinie, our expedition leader, explained to us later, we had in fact spent two days not on the Drake Passage, but on the Drake Lake, a rare and privileged destination through which very few people pass. Alas, the old Antarctic superstition goes “Drake Lake, wild weather in Antarctica”, therefore no views and few landings. Had we used our quota of fortune on the journey?

That evening, conditions did begin to deteriorate as we sailed through a misty Southern Ocean, but maybe it’s the luck of the Irish (it was Saint Patrick’s Day after all), because there in the mist to our port side was our first glimpse of land in Antarctica, the snow-covered desolate landscape of the South Shetland Islands. It was an amazing sight, seeing these rocky shores spread out before us in the fog like a deserted no-man’s land, a truly mysterious setting. We decided it was a perfect time to crack out some bubbly and braved the biting chill in the air to celebrate our anniversary with a few swigs straight from the bottle.

Aside from bird-watching, our two days at sea had been spent attending briefings from the expedition teams on the marvellous lives of penguins, the classifications of icebergs (there’s five different types), identification of seabirds, weather, sea … a whole diploma in Antarctic everything. Oh, and organising the kayaking. We had seen when we were booking that Kayaking was offered free of charge on our expedition. When we booked in Ushuaia, however, our travel agent was very skeptical, so we asked her to confirm with the company. As it happened, the kayaking was free, but you had to confirm a space as only 14 people could be accommodated. We got lucky – there was a last minute cancellation and the company gave us an e-mail saying we could swap the space between us. During our two days at sea, it turned out that a third (30-40) of the passengers thought they were going kayaking for free. It was the soap opera of the voyage, and in the end a plan was made to let “The 14” kayakers as much as they want, and all the others to have one go.

Given all the hullabaloo about kayaking, I opted for that on our first stop in Antarctica when we dropped anchor just off Half Moon Island in the South Shetlands. Ninfa decided to go onshore. As we disembarked, we had to turn our cards from green to red to show we were off ship, and then turn them back when we boarded again. Straightforward, no? When we returned from our morning activities, I heard over a crew’s walkie talkie – “Tony Byrne, we’re missing Tony Byrne, does anyone know where he is?” Still not sure how that happened, but seeing as I’m the one writing the post, I think it’s because Ninfa turned the wrong card.

Deception Island is a volcanic island, and Whaler’s Bay, the harbour where we would anchor is actually a huge caldera, and despite all that is known as one of the safest bays in Antarctica!!! The entrance to the bay is through Neptune’s Bellows, a narrow channel which we couldn’t even see the as we sailed by because of the fog. There must be a science to fog, but as we didn’t get a briefing on it, I don’t know. But when we entered Whaler’s Bay, it was clear again, a long finger of fog stretched in vain behind us as we eluded its grip for the safety of the shore.

Whaler’s Bay is known as such as it was a major base for the whaling industry in the early 20th century. Having hunted the whales in the Antarctic Ocean almost to extinction, a volcanic eruption which covered the bases in sludge was the final nail in the coffin of the whaling industry on Deception Island. The vista of the bay is one of a derelict airport hangar, rusted industrial tanks, and the weather-beaten skeletons of old wooden huts and boats, against a black volcanic earth, and imposing glaciers crowning the mountains behind them. And that’s not to mention Neptune’s Window, a natural gap in the cliffs looking out to sea.

This time Ninfa and I both declined the opportunity to kayak, and transferred to the island on one of the zodiacs. Ah, the first feeling of Antarctic land under my feet was great. While Half Moon was all about the animals, Deception is a poignant look back at man’s first contribution to Antarctica – to pillage what resources they could, hunting whales almost to extinction. It’s comforting to see that industry in ruins, but the massive boilers are a testament to the once huge industry which operated here. Rusted tanks, similar in size to the huge circular fuel tanks you see in ports and airports, once contained whale oil. We passed the grave of a Norwegian whaler who died here, and past the less civilised remains of whale bones scattered along the beach. While most of the passengers had gone for a trek, we strolled over to Neptune’s Window for a view of the sea and the bay, with only a few lazy Fur Seals and a couple of groups of Gentoo Penguins for company. Waoh, the ship looked small against the background of the bay and the mountains around us. We were after all on one of the smallest islands in the South Shetlands, which should give you an idea of the scale of Antarctica. Each of our twice daily excursions lasted between two and three hours, and before we knew it, it was time to head back to the ship. There was only time left for a few of our Japanese shipmates to take a dip in the icy waters, and well, that didn’t take long at all.

Our next post will continue our adventure south, to set foot on the actual continent itself (as opposed to its islands) and down below the Antarctic Polar Circle. Check back soon for the rest of our adventure.

For photos, click on your choice of the Drake Passage, Half Moon Island, the South Shetlands, and Deception Island, or have a look at some of the highlights below.

Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world, commonly known as Fin del Mundo (the End of the World) is the administrative capital of Tierra del Fuego and the Malvinas, known in English as the Falkland Islands. It’s easy to forget about the short Falklands War in the 1980s which began with an Argentine invasion to reclaim the Malvinas, only for the British to more firmly than ever reclaim them as the Falklands. Open wounds are still sore, and one of the taxi drivers told me that it is an issue close to the hearts of the Argentinians, and in particular the people of Ushuaia. But much as we enjoy contentious political issues, we were here on a mission, one that also required precise military planning. The southernmost city in the world was not far enough south for us, we wanted more, we wanted Antarctica.

Our experience in Quito, Ecuador, in booking a last-minute trip to the Galapagos Islands, had taught us that big discounts were available for those that were willing to wait, and risk not having a seat at all. We had done our research and for the specific reason of having the rare possibility of crossing the polar circle (which can only be done late in the season once the ice has melted), we decided to run the gauntlet. We knew that there were two boats leaving in the next three days from Ushuaia on a cruise to Antarctica. These were the last two boats of the season; next departure was in 7 months time. We knew which one we wanted and why, and we arrived in town two days before departure to haggle, and play the travel agents against each war in what we hoped would be a bidding war of who would blink first in the hope of cascading last minute prices.

We had arrived on a Sunday morning and nothing was open in town, not even a travel agency. We walked and walked the hilly streets on a chilly March morning, finally finding a reasonably priced hotel for our two nights. Ushuaia is expensive – for starters you’re lucky to get there for anything less than $400 return from Buenos Aires, and hotel nights average around the US$80 for a double room in the mid-season. So if you’re coming here, you’re budgeting accordingly.

After our hotel trek, we had pretty much cased out all of Ushuaia, which is probably the smallest city we’ve ever visited. It’s not particularly hard to find a last minute deal in Ushuaia as they’re well advertised in the shop windows. The going rate in most places was about 50% of the advance-booking full price. We were hoping for better though, as I had been talking by Skype to a US travel agent more than a month earlier who was already offering half-price. Our instincts told us not to book that far in advance, but we gathered a lot of “intelligence” from this helpful agent and I kind of felt bad for not giving him the business. No matter how hard we looked on the streets of Ushuaia, travel agency after travel agency was offering us the same rate but also charging us a credit card surcharge of between 3-5%. With a last minute price of around US$4,000 per person, 5% is a big deal.

Into day 2, and we had still not booked, and our preferred boat was leaving the next day. I called the boat operator directly, a Dutch company, but they were also insisting on the credit card fee; we’ve become used to paying credit card fees on top of published price during our travels, but from a European company we were annoyed. How many people pay US$4,000 in cash? We were thinking it would have been cheaper (and less stressful) if we had just booked with the US travel agent a month ago, but in the end our bargaining paid off. Running out of options, we visited Rumbo Sur travel agency on the main street, and finally got the deal we were looking for – a half-price deal with clothing rental included for free and no credit card fee. So what exactly did that equate to:

The Boat: The Plancius – not the cheapest, but better class of boat and a better itinerary – across the Polar Circle
Cabin: 1 x Superior Cabin with double bed
Extras: No credit card fee, exchange rate of US$1 = AR$4.08, free rental of coat, ski-pants and gloves, free kayaking (this was a long-advertised offer which had expired, but after much insistence from our part and help from our agent we got the final space confirmed by the operator due to a late cancellation – if you don’t ask, you don’t get)
Itinerary: 12 days, 11 nights Antarctic cruise beyond the polar circle including a continental landing
Total Price: $4,395 each (yikes!)

We opted at the last minute to take a superior cabin at an extra cost of US$400 each, but relative to the total cost of the cruise, it was money well spent as the superior cabin turned out around twice as big as a standard cabin, and was available with a double bed instead of two singles. We became the 97th and 98th (out of 98) passengers booked on the Plancius. Our work was done, so all we had left to do was be giddily excited about our upcoming adventure, and celebrate it by feasting our remaining 24 hours on some of Argentina’s best fish and seafood.

Ushuaia’s main industry is tourism, and there’s no shortage of restaurants, although separating the good from the bad is a tricky task. You can’t visit Ushuaia without sampling the Centella (King Crab), and we tried the Parmesan Gratin of King Crab and a seafood paella in a homely little restaurant called the Casa de los Mariscos which had been recommended to us. We had also heard some great reviews about a restaurant called Kaupe with great food and great views over Ushuaia, and seeing as it was on the next street from our hotel and the only restaurant that was not including a long uphill promenade as an obligatory digestif, we put it to the test. Food and service were exceptional, giving us an opportunity to savour the local black merluza which is generally excellent, but even more so in Kaupe. Overall, a fitting send-off from South America, and proof that there’s more than red meat in Argentina.

Ushuaia is the end of the human world, and tomorrow we set sail to leave that far behind as we begin our most adventurous voyage yet to the white continent of Antarctica, the true end of the world. We don’t really know what to expect, but we expect that to be unlike anything else on Earth.

For travel tips, see below the photo.

Travel Tips

1. Crossing the Polar Circle is an option only available at the end of the season when the ice on some of the Antarctic seas has melted enough.

2. Do research in advance to get an understanding of prices before you go to Ushuaia. We used US travel agency website www.polarcruises.com which was by far the best source of info and prices.

3. Two days in Ushuaia is enough to visit all the agencies and get quotes etc. If you want to explore Tierra del Fuego National Park, add more days.

4. Some boat operators are based in Europe and require your booking by close of business European time, the day before the cruise departs. Don’t leave it too late!

5. Make sure you have enough credit available on your credit card.

6. Have a back-up plan. We had two options of boats leaving in the same week in case one was sold out, and had booked our plane tickets to suit both options.

Buenos Aires was one of the most anticipated destinations on our South American leg of our year in motion. We were to spend around ten days there in all, and visited the city on three separate occasions during our time in and around Argentina. So did it live up to expectations? Well, there’s a story that says that Argentinians have the most psychologists per person in the whole continent, and with a city as large and diverse as Buenos Aires, the answer to our own question becomes a little complicated.

Our first visit to Buenos Aires came after an overnight bus trip in Royal Class and brought us to the bohemian heart of the city, San Telmo, where Ninfa’s brother Salva studies, and where Martin, an old friend of Ninfa’s from Honduras, lives and owns a small Middle-Eastern restaurant. Our first impressions of Buenos Aires were not therefore distinctly Argentinian, but distinctly positive with a free dinner of Ninfa’s favourite cuisine, plenty of red wine, and good company. We would get to know San Telmo very well in the next three days that we stayed in the area as we spent the time helping Salva look for an apartment in the area, and just aimlessly wandering the cobblestoned streets and atmospheric cafes of a bygone Buenos Aires. Sunday is the day in San Telmo when the market comes to town, and all sorts of antique bric a brac are on display, an authentic milonga takes place in the main San Telmo square and hot empanadas are never more than a few steps away (almost as common as dogpoo on the ground – watch your step in San Telmo).

Tango was invented in Buenos Aires, and San Telmo is the bastion of tango in the city. A milonga is basically a time and a place where people come together to dance tango, and there is no shortage in San Telmo. We attended one on a Saturday evening on the second floor of a terraced block which reputedly belonged to Che Guevara’s grandmother (not verified) and it was a little like a scene from a David Lynch film. We watched from the dim lamplight of our small table on the edge of the dancefloor as the small group of smartly dressed elderly patrons skilfully performed steps which were so rehearsed as to appear effortlessly natural. On the far side of the large, almost empty ballroom, single ladies were were in turn invited to dance by the resident “taxi dancer”, a pot-bellied Casanova dressed head to toe in black, shirt open almost to his waist, his receding hair sleaked back in a ponytail. Casanova turned out to be a surprisingly affable man and indulged us in a little of the history of tango and failed to convince us to embarrass ourselves in front of the assembled regulars.

During our first few days in San Telmo, we stayed in nearby Puerto Madero, the former docklands area of the city which has been stylishly redeveloped into a modern shiny waterfront district retaining some tasteful touches of its former purpose. Nearby is a nature reserve on the banks of the Rio Plata, and what I really liked was seeing the brightly coloured chirping parakeets from the park sitting in the cranes of the urban-industrial setting of Puerto Madero. We dined on two occasions in Puerto Madero, each time in one of Argentina’s famous “Tenedor Libre” restaurants. Tenedor Libre literally means “free fork”, but is better interpreted as “all you can eat … meat”. We tried the hugely popular Siga La Vaca, and the more locally popular “La Bistecca”. Of the two, we both preferred the latter, which offered a better quality of meat, lower prices and the option of pastas, pizzas and salads. In fact, we ate so much in La Bistecca that we had to go straight back to the hotel afterwards and take a long siesta, even after my two espressos!

To call Buenos Aires a huge city doesn’t even begin to convey the size of this South American urban sprawl. So together with a copy of Time Out Buenos Aires, and armed with a map and very informative advice from the Buenos Aires tourist office in Puerto Madero, we set off to explore some of the other parts of the city. First stop was Boca. The tourist officer had marked a big X, no-go area on our map, and we had found a highly recommended restaurant right in the middle of it. The restaurant, El Obrero (The Worker), is in the heart of downtrodden Boca, the non-redeveloped working class port area and home to Argentina’s most famous football club, Boca Juniors. The homage paid to Boca Juniors is by no means subtle and the walls are decked with scarves, photos, and flags of the glory years of Boca, and their most famous son, Diego Maradona. El Obrero does a great homage to Argentina’s parrilla (grill) tradition too, and after a hearty lunch we made our way the short distance (by taxi) to the Bombonera, Boca’s stadium, which literally translates as the Sweet Factory. The surrounding streets on the walk to El Caminito are almost entirely blue and yellow, with murals of Diego and his famous Hand of God goal taking pride of place. The Caminito itself boasts every colour under the rainbow but is very touristy, although the tango dancing could probably even teach a taxi dancer a thing or two.

I’ve often heard of Buenos Aires referred to as the Paris of South America, but to find Paris, you have to leave Boca and San Telmo and find instead the wide boulevards of Centro, Recoleta and Palermo. And there’s no boulevard wider than the Avenida 9 de Julio, the world’s widest with over 20 lanes of traffic at some points, and crowned in its centre by the towering Obelisco. The Centro district is full of monumental buildings, avenues and squares, none less so than the National Congress building with its dome, fountains and statues. We took the subway the length of the Avenida de Mayo from here to the Presidential Palace, the Casa Rosada, at the opposite end. This metro line, Line A, is Buenos Aires’ oldest, which still carries the original wagons with old lamp lighting and wooden seats which was a real journey back in time. The Casa Rosada is another journey back in time. Christina Kirchner is the current president of Argentina and our tour of the Casa brought us for a brief glimpse at her office, and it was interesting to see the personal photographs against the backdrop of the grand formality of the presidential office. The Casa Rosada is most famous perhaps for the address of Eva (Evita) Peron to the working classes from the balcony facing the Plaza de Mayo. We got to step out onto the balcony on our tour and I couldn’t resist singing a few lines of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina to honour the occasion.

Another day of our extensive roaming in the Argentine capital brought us to Evita’s final resting place in the Cemetery of Recoleta. The cemetery is well worth a visit, and is more like a museum of the Buenos Aires’ past, with its classical sculptures and stories of former prestigious residents. Some people, it seems, didn’t even find peace in death, such as the couple who were buried together but had their statues sculpted with their backs to each other. I was quite proud on the other hand to find a few Irish names among the ghosts of the noble classes, and even found a mausoleum to the Byrne family of Buenos Aires.

In close proximity (in Buenos Aires terms) to Recoleta is the fancy neighbourhood of Palermo which is where we stayed on our final trip to BA with Doug, a friend we made on our Antarctican cruise. I took a few jogs through the statued parks around Avenida del Libertador and got a taste of what urban living can be like in BA for the well off – it’s nice! To get a better and more relaxing taste, we made a trip by bus out to the Calle Honduras, which much to the satisfaction of Ninfa, turns out to be one of Buenos Aires’ hippest areas with all the flashy boutiques, classy cafes and fashionable people, and a trip here on a weekend seems to be a must for the in-crowd in BA. After the grimy and gritty introduction we got to Buenos Aires in San Telmo, we had finally found the glitz and the glam.

Buenos Aires by day is one thing – generally that one thing is hot! – but by night it’s another. Although we lacked the energy to rival the partygoers who last until dawn (we generally saw them coming home when we were going to airports for morning flights), we did pack in a pretty impressive porteno nightlife. An evening game at one of Buenos Aires numerous football clubs was a must on my to-do list, and although Boca weren’t in town, we did get to a game at River Plate. No goals, pricey tickets, sitting on the steps because all the seats were full are the price to pay to witness an amazing atmosphere that even made the nil nil draw against Argentina Juniors an exciting experience, although a comfier seat might have been nice. We also coincided our trip with a Shakira concert. In Latin America, there is no bigger star and she really knows how to put on a show. And finally, a blast from Ninfa’s past, her high school favourite band, local band Vilma Palma had reformed for their 25th birthday and were giving a one-night concert in Buenos Aires. The place was rocking and Ninfa transported herself back to that age of screaming adoring public as Vilma strutted his stuff and belted out his hits.

Alas, it’s the end of Buenos Aires, so what’s the verdict. We did have a great time but it didn’t really live up to our expectations. In general, the people had us questioning if we were still in Latin America as they were not as friendly as we hoped, although there were some notable exceptions including Mariella (thanks for all the great tips!) and some others like friendly old people and taxi drivers who offer cigarettes to their passengers. BA has just about everything a big city should have but the place is so big that it can be exhausting, and we found it quite dirty, well until we got to Palermo. Verdict then, Buenos Aires has a lot to be admired, but also leaves a lot to be desired. Next stop is guaranteed to be something different – the white continent of Antarctica!

More photos below and in our Argentina album here.

One of the great attractions of visiting a Latin American country is a rich legacy of beautiful colonial architecture, and Colonia del Sacramento on the banks of the Rio Plata in Uruguay is one of South America’s finest examples. Colonia del Sacramento is a small port town just an hour’s boat ride across the wide Rio Plata from Buenos Aires. It was this proximity that made it a bustling port in Portuguese controlled Uruguay during colonial times ideally located for smuggling goods in and out of Spanish-controlled Buenos Aires. What’s left today is an almost perfectly preserved old colonial town which is well worth a visit even if there are no longer any great savings on goods to be made.

In Ninfa’s old apartment, there were a couple of photos of Colonia and they looked so beautiful that we were really looking forward to visiting the place, and we put aside a day and half to do so. We arrived on a sunny and very hot afternoon by bus from Montevideo and made straight for the hotel where we spent the majority of the afternoon enjoying some sun and watching the locals cooling off in the very wide Rio Plata which separates Colonia and Buenos Aires. We’re not big on swimming in freshwater rivers, and the colour of the Rio Plata wasn’t going to do anything to change that, so we opted for a couple of cool showers before heading into the old town to see if Colonia was going to live up to expectations.

As we strolled through the old cobbled streets and down to the waterfront, we were possibly most surprised at how quickly we had done that. First impressions were that Colonia is small! But usually great things come in small packages. The atmosphere in the old part of town is very laid back, with restaurants spreading their dining rooms onto the plazas and narrow streets. It seems that every corner we passed, we were greeted by either another beautiful, perfectly preserved street, or another beautiful, perfectly preserved vintage car. The highlight of Colonia del Sacramento is the Calle de los Suspiros, a short street of faded picturesque bungalows and the poorest laid cobble street in the world – watch your step! And if you’re lucky you’ll even be able to make out a line of matchstick figures on the horizon which are the only sign of Buenos Aires in this town, which aside from distance, feels miles away from Colonia del Sacramento. We enjoyed a beautiful sunset down by the waterfront watching the locals fishing with some success on the rocks below us. Strange then that as we perused the menus of the various restaurants which clutter on the plaza that we couldn’t find any local fish anywhere. Unfortunately, no doubt owing to its popular tourist success, it’s difficult to get anything good other than a great setting in the restaurants in the old town. In fact we found one of the oddest waiters from our whole trip around the world who contended that the price we had to pay for being able to enjoy dinner on the street without being mugged was slow service. Odd logic – we didn’t tip!

Colonia’s old town also attracts its fair share of locals too, so we encountered plenty of Uruguayans “mateando” with their friends, but this time we decided not to join in. Too much mate would be spoiling oneself after all. We were also really lucky to coincide our visit with the onset of Autumn and the trees lining the streets were now adding a crispy crunch to our footsteps as we meandered our way aimlessly and at leisure through the alleys and byways of the old smuggler’s gateway to the colonies. We’ve had so many lucky coincidences on our travels, but we like to think of the old saying that “coincidences take great planning”.

Colonia del Sacramento can easily be covered in one evening, never mind one day, but it was nice for us to take some time out to relax and we didn’t regret spending two days there. In the hot summer heat of Uruguay, it was nice to relax in the daytimes and enjoy the old town in the soft light of a sunset that really brings the beauty of the town to life. Next stop for us is Buenos Aires again for a couple of days more before we head south, south, south to the end of the world and beyond. No kidding, we’re not stopping until we hit Antarctica!

All our photos of picturesque Colonia del Sacramento can be found here or just scroll down a little further for some of our favourites.

Travel Tips

For last minute ferry tickets, be sure to check SeaCat online. If they have seats left, they will sell the remaining seats at big discounts up to a week in advance. We saved over $100 each on ferry prices by using SeaCat instead of BuqueBus. On our outbound journey we travelled on a BuqueBus boat, so no difference in quality.

The COT buses in Uruguay frequently have wifi on board – bus of choice for travel bloggers.

During our extended time in Buenos Aires (BA), we took a four day break to visit Colonia and Montevideo in Uruguay. On the fast ferry Colonia is just an hour away from BA, and once in Colonia, it’s an easy 2.5 hour bus to Montevideo from the Colonia port. We were looking to get away from the hectic life and high prices of BA. Certainly the pace of life in Montevideo was slow compared to BA, like the turtle to the hare. But boy were we wrong about the second thing, prices were different in Montevideo, and to the wrong end of the scale; much higher than in Buenos Aires, even higher than in Chile. How the locals deal with that is beyond our comprehension as they assured us that their salaries are low. In Uruguay we saw a bigger racial mix: white European looking, dark Brasilian types, and the in between mix; as Uruguay is sandwiched in between Argentina and Brasil.

After being in BA, Montevideo does not seem to have many attractions, but we really enjoyed being there. Not only was it quieter and cleaner than BA, but it seemed to me that there was a higher joie de vivre there. People were really relaxed, friendly and easy to talk to. We walked through the old town taking in the old historical buildings and many monuments to the greatest national hero, Jose Gervasio Artigas. There was a particular building in the Plaza de Independencia, the Palacio Salvo, which Tony fell in love with. It has to be the most magnificent building in South America. The construction was made by an Italian architect and completed in 1928 intending to become a high class luxurious hotel, but it never served as a hotel. Palacio Salvo is a national icon of pride. The construction is so spectacular that it really clashes with the 70′s and 80′s buildings around. We have not done any further research on the subject, but our first impression of Montevideo is that it was a rich city with former glory, but somehow collapsed and declined. Now it’s mainly full of 70′s and 80′s buildings, in my opinion, architecture’s darkest period, as evidently the biggest decor on these buildings are external AC units. Montevideo reminded me both of La Habana in Cuba and Bucharest in Romania.

I contacted a local to have an insight on the city, my Uruguayan friend and former colleague in Brussels, Cristina. She gave us wonderful tips on how to enjoy Montevideo as a local. And we sure did! We had lunch at the famous and full of ambience Port Market (Mercado del Puerto). Ironically, their specialty is meat, not fish. It’s an old-style aluminum warehouse with plenty of character with about a dozen restaurants serving the big Parrillada (all sort of meat products on a grill). They all have the same steep price, but it’s quite an experience full of charm to have lunch there, sitting on a bar stool watching the grill, while Gauchos (cowboys) come and serenade you with their guitars. Cristina said we had to order a cup of Medio y Medio (Half and Half), a famous local drink consisting of half sparkling sweet wine and half white dry wine. Not bad! In fact so good, that we later had a full bottle of it at a local bar. We also tried the local specialty “Chivito” a big sandwich with meat, bacon, and egg. The rest of the food is very similar to the Argentinian diet: various grilled meats and their own style pastas and pizzas. Oh and how can I forget their obsession with “completos”, plain hot dogs, which we skipped as Tony had sufficiently indulged in them in Santiago. Uruguayan wine is not as famed as the Argentinian, but lately they have been developing quite well the Tannat grape which is a red grape that has become the signature Uruguayan grape.

We walked through the market area, the old town and just as we were making our way to the port to take pictures of the fishermen, a policeman stopped us. He said we shouldn’t go any further, or we would come back without camera. It didn’t seem dangerous at all to us but we obeyed. All cities have dangerous areas, and usually the port is one of them. We were pretty impressed with Montevideo and their policy of protecting tourists. There was a tourist police in every corner of the Old City, not bad at all. However during our walk, the police had to stray their attention from the tourists for a few minutes as two local teenage girls engaged in a heavy fist fight and hair pulling, and to which we must admit that we were quite amused to watch ourselves. We also rode public buses to the other side of the city and we discovered the onboard busker phenomena. In a short ride, at two different stops, two different groups of singers with guitars got on the bus and delighted the crowds with their music. We’ve seen buskers in the metro in almost all of Europe, but not in buses. While in Europe most people try to avoid them like the plague, in Montevideo people seemed to really enjoy it as they clapped and gave them plenty of change. It was so good that we also contributed to their art, a thing we never do; and Tony even chanted “otra otra” (encore) and they pleased him.

A very important recommendation from Cristina was to “Matear in the Ramblas” during sundown. Matear is to drink the mate while you go places and that’s what a lot of Uruguayans do all day. It’s a national tradition in Argentina as well, but an obsession in Uruguay. Mate is a bitter herb which is consumed in a hot water preparation and drunk by sipping a metal spoon/pipe from a dried-pumpkin cup. Since we arrived in Uruguay we noticed this tradition immediately. People all over town carry during the whole day their hot water thermos, their herb and their pumpkin cup and sip it all day long. Tony really wanted to engage in that tradition but it was served nowhere. We were told that it’s a very personal affair, not something one buys in restaurants or bars. So off we went until we found our perfect mate glass and spoon, a hot water thermos, and the herb. With all our new gear and some instructions on preparation we hit the ramblas (waterfront promenade) during sunset. Mate is quite bitter, an acquired taste, or probably an inborn trait; but it was really cool to walk down the ramblas, mate in hand, doing as the locals do.

Montevideo does not have the size or wonders of Buenos Aires, but it makes a relaxing break from the craziness of it; in our opinion well worth the visit!