Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego, the Chilean Fjords and More ...: February 13

On February 13, 2014, we set off with friends Dennis and Vicky Shepard and Overseas Adventure Travel to visit Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego and the Chilean fjords. From the icy splendor of the Perito Mereno Glacier to the stunning mountain vistas in Torres del Paine National Park to fabled (and very cold) Cape Horn, this is one of the most dramatic and unspoiled landscapes on earth. Throw in Easter Island and Iguassu Falls and we have the ingredients for a trip of a lifetime.

It didn't hurt that we had an excellent Trip Leader, Graciela Rubin, a native of Buenos Aires. She was a very organized, a font of information, and did a super job of juggling different interests and capabilities of group members. Here she is enjoying a drink of yerba mate, an herbal tea that all Argentinians seem to drink all day long.

SANTIAGO, CHILE

Our first stop was Santiago, the capital of Chile. Chile is a very long and narrow country, stretching along the west coast of South America from Peru to the South Pole. From north to south, it ranges 2600 miles from desert to glaciers. The Andes Mountains dominate the eastern border, with elevations above 21,000 feet.

Santiago is centrally located, wedged between the Andes and the coastal mountain range, a beautiful setting often obscured by smog. The city was founded in 1541 by the Spanish conquistadors. In the late 18^th century, colonial rulers built beautiful parks, public buildings, and canals. Independence from Spain came in 1818, and in 1970, Salvador Allende became the first democratically-elected socialist leader. During his time in office, many social and economic reforms were enacted, but it wasn't enough to raise the country out of depression. Widespread poverty drove many farm laborers into the cities, and by the 1970s, more than 70% of all Chileans lived in urban areas, where unemployment was rampant. A 1973 military coup deposed Allende and Augusto Pinochet began his iron-fisted rule. Democracy was restored in 1990, and the scars of Chile’s worst times have mostly faded into distant memories. Today, Santiago is a vast urban sprawl, home to 6.3 million people, plagued by traffic congestion and air pollution.

Our stay here was short, with only a brief stop in ‘el Centro’ - the oldest part of the city. Here is the Palacio de la Moneda, the presidential palace. This neoclassical building serves as the president’s office and seat of the federal government.

Facing the presidential palace is an open area known as Constitution Square. On the day of our visit, some sort of protest was underway – our guide was proud to point out that this was a sign of democracy restored. People now can gather, march and shout without fear of imprisonment or of simply disappearing.

A highlight was lunch at Domino’s, a sidewalk café on a busy pedestrian-only street. Almost everyone tried the local specialty, a sandwich known as an ‘italiano’ – tomato, avocado, mayonnaise and meat (hot dog, chicken, beef or pork). Interesting.

EASTER ISLAND

Chile’s Easter Island, known locally as Rapa Nui, was named by a Dutch explorer who landed there on Easter Sunday in 1722. It is the most remote inhabited place on earth – 2500 miles west of Chile and 2600 miles east of Tahiti. This tiny speck of land is blessed with an extraordinary collection of archaeological sites scattered amid an eerie landscape. Historians suggest that the island’s first inhabitants arrived from Polynesia as late as 1200 AD. Their population grew over the centuries, and eventually sheer numbers threatened the available resources.

Conflict over land and resources erupted by the late 17^th century and led to bloody wars and even cannibalism. After this period of self-inflicted havoc, the arrival of Peruvian slave traders and Europeans bringing diseases (influenza and smallpox) nearly resulted in the annihilation of the native people. By 1870, the population had dwindled to 111 natives.

Today the rise and fall of the Rapanui civilization remains one of mankind’s great mysteries. For natives living on the island today, the only trace of their early culture are the monolithic moai statues – giant faces of their ancestral spirits that once formed a line around the coast, protecting the island with sleepless eyes made of white coral and black obsidian. Carved by hand from hardened amber-colored ash, called ‘tuff,’ these imposing figures stand up to 32 feet high and weigh 6 to 8 tons each. The moai have been linked to ancestor worship; they were located on more than 300 stone ahu platforms throughout the island.

Over 1000 moai have been identified around the island. They are sometimes called Easter Island ‘heads,’ but they actually are complete torsos, figures kneeling on bent knees with their hands over their stomachs. As we will see, some upright moai have become buried up to their necks by shifting sands. Most of the moai are within Rapa Nui National Park, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site that occupies over 90% of the island.

The moai were carved during a relatively short and intense burst of creative and productive work; estimates range from 400 to 1500 AD. Almost all were carved of a distinctive type of volcanic ash found at a single site on the island. Only stone hand chisels were used; a single moai would take a team of five or six men approximately one year to complete. Each statue represents a deceased chief or important person, their body interred within the ahu upon which the moai stands.

The island’s ecosystem was nearly destroyed by the creation of the monoliths and the chaotic times that followed. Over 95% of the island was deforested, and most native plans and birds became extinct. Erosion ruined once-fertile farmlands. The landscape is almost eerie, but it literally teems with archeological sites: caves, ceremonial platforms (ahu), giant monoliths (moai), village structures and petroglyphs.

We began our visit at one of the most scenic spots on the island, Rano Kao Volcano. A freshwater lake has formed in the volcano crater; it is nearly covered in a bog of floating totora reeds and looks a bit like a giant witch’s cauldron.

The partly-restored Orongo Ceremonial Village is perched 1300 feet above the lake, on the edge of the crater wall on one side and abutting a vertical drop plunging down to the cobalt-blue ocean on the other side. The 54 stone houses here have walls made of horizontally-overlapping stone slabs, with earth-covered arched roofs. Built into the side of the slope, the houses appear to be partly subterranean. Since the walls have to be thick enough to support the roof’s weight, the doorway is a low narrow tunnel, barely high enough to crawl through.

Orongo was one of the principal sites of the birdman cult, which is immortalized by the birdman images (half-man, half-bird) carved in stones. At the edge of the crater is a cluster of boulders carved with numerous birdman petroglyphs.

This is the main rock art site of Rapa Nui, with thousands of varied petroglyphs underscoring the importance of this place in ancient times. The petroglyph shaped like a mask or a large pair of eyes represents the god Make-Make, the ancient one who was credited with bringing birds to Rapa Nui.

The biggest event of the birdman cult’s ceremonies was an annual competition to obtain the first egg of the sooty tern, which nested on the tiny islets about a mile offshore. Clan chiefs (or their representatives) climbed down the 1000-foot cliff and swam to the islet, staying there for days or weeks awaiting the arrival of the seabirds. Whoever found the first egg and brought it to the king won the favor of the god as well as great status in the community. His clan then ruled the island for one year, until another competition took place.

To see the island’s famous moai, we followed the footsteps of an ancient civilization to several ahu, the sacred sites where the moai once stood. Our first stop was Ahu Vaihu, also known as the Inca Wall of Rapa Nui. Here we saw an ahu made of large stones reminiscent of the precision of the Incas, surrounded by fallen moai in an unrestored state.

Eight fallen moai lie face down in front of this ahu, with three reddish pukau (topknots) on the ground around them. Even after the ahu was destroyed, this site continued to be a burial chamber, evidenced by the rocks piled on the toppled moai.

Our next stop, Akahanga, at first glance appears to be a rocky coastline, topped by green hills with more rocks scattered around. A closer look reveals that a large, prosperous village once stood here. Here are a cave that was used for shelter and an outdoor cooking pit (or umu) used for slow-cooking meals wrapped in banana leaves.

Another sign of prosperity – stone chicken houses! The original colonists had brought chickens with them on their canoes from Polynesia, and chickens were an important part of the diet.

Along the cost are several ahu, with moai that were toppled in the 1600’s, near the end of the era of this once-sophisticated civilization.

Next we visited Ranu Raraku Volcano, the quarry that processed the stone from which the moai were carved. The quarry contains moai at all stages of construction and it’s easy to visualize the creation process.

Most moai were carved face up, in a horizontal or slightly reclining position. Workers dug a channel around and under each moai, leaving the statue attached to the rock only along its back. The moai were detached, transported down the slope, and raised to a standing position. Here sculptors carved the finer details before the moai were moved to their coastal ahu.

When the civilization collapsed, workers simply walked away from the job – leaving a hillside scattered with 397 partly finished moai.

We also visited the quarry at Puna Pau, a small crater where red scoria rock was excavated to make pukao – also known as “hats” of the moai. The purpose of the pukao is not known, but there are plenty of theories: stone representation of feather headdresses, topknots dyed with red earth, or some kind of turban. Big red stones were rolled up and out of the crater and then on to an ahu for final carving and placement. The photos here are two views from the rim of the crater – one looking into the crater, the other looking down the outer slope.

Ahu Tongariki is, in a word, monumental. Fifteen moai were erected at this site, honoring 10 generations of leaders over a period of 200 years. The moai were toppled in the 17^th century as a result of tribal warfare, and further scattered by a tsunami in 1960. A cooperative project between Japan and Chile completed restoration of the site in 1996.

This is the largest ahu ever built, giving one pause to ponder how the islanders moved and raised these mammoth figures. Legend says that priests moved the moai using the power of mana, the ability to make a moai walk a short distance every day until eventually it reached its destination. Most experts believe they were dragged on a kind of wooden sledge or pushed on top of rollers. They may have been moved in a vertical position, giving some credence to oral history which says that the moai walked to their ahu. There are plenty of theories, including the notion that the moai are the work of extra-terrestrials.

Near Ahu Tongariki there are several petroglyphs that include figures of a turtle with a human face, a tuna fish, a birdman motif, and Rongo-Rongo figures. Rongo-Rongo script is a primitive picture-language, a form of hieroglyphs, usually inscribed on wooden tablets. No one has deciphered the meaning of the symbols, but oral tradition suggests the writings include hymns to various deities, records of crimes and other deeds, commemoration of those fallen in wars, and family genealogies. Again, researchers have theories, but nobody really knows anything.

Ahu Te Pito Kura, overlooking a fishing cove on the north coast of Rapa Nui, is home to the largest moai ever moved from Rano Raraku and erected on an ahu. Legend has it that a certain widow erected the moai to represent her dead husband. In height, proportion and general appearance, it resembles the tall moai still buried up to their necks at Rano Raraku. Nearly 33 feet long, the broken moai lies face down on the inland slope of the platform. Its ears alone are more than 6 feet long. A topknot lies nearby.

This ahu’s name means ‘navel of light’ – it was named after a nearby stone said to symbolize the Navel of the World. On first sight, the Navel of the World appears to be nothing more than a large, rounded boulder placed within a crude rock perimeter. However, the stone is believed to have been brought to the island specifically by the first king, Hotu Matua. The name of the stone comes from the legend that it is the navel of the world, from which all life sprang. This round stone has magnetic properties and its spiritual power is undeniable …

Anakena Beach is an idyllic spot, with its white sand and swaying palm trees. Anakena has a highly symbolic significance to the native people because it is the storied landing place of Hotu Matua, the legendary leader and first king of Rapa Nui. Here the first colonists brought a large supply of food, seeds and domestic animals to start life in their new land. Here, too, the legendary Norwegian explorer/archeologist Thor Heyerdahl set up camp for his 1956 study of Easter Island culture.

Anakena also boasts two major archeological sites. Ahu Ature Huki contains a lone moai, re-erected by local natives working with Heyerdahl. Nearby Ahu Nau Nau is more grandiose, with five of its original seven moai restored.

While most ahus and moai are near the coast and facing inland, there are several inland sites that may have been observatories of some type. At Ahu Akiva, there are seven moai looking out to sea, directly facing the setting sun at the equinoxes.

Ahu Huri A’Urenga is another inland ahu, home to a single moai that faces the Little Dipper at the winter solstice. This sculpture is unusual in that it has four hands; the significance of this is not known. Just down the hill is a restored crematorium. In ancient times, everyone was cremated – this was the only way for their spirits to be released to the heavens. Deforestation created a big problem for this practice. People started piling bodies on top of ahus and covering them with stones until they were dry and clean; then they could be cremated with far less wood.

In between excursions to visit the island’s archeological sites, we had time to explore the area around our hotel. Our hotel itself was in a spectacular setting, perched on volcanic cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean – an easy place to kick back and relax.

At the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean, there were people-sized moai keeping an eye on things.

At the base of the cliff below our hotel was a cave, Ana Kai Tangata, that once was a stopping point for competitors in the annual birdman competition. Today it is still a popular spot with locals – it’s accessible, dry, and decorated with ancient rock paintings. From inside, there’s a great view of a rocky cove with crashing waves the only sound.

Down the road a short distance from our hotel is the Rapa Nui Botanical Garden. It’s not much to look at, but scientists here are doing important work to re-establish Easter Islands’ toromiro trees. Toromiro is an endemic plant species that has been extinct in the wild for over 30 years.

Further down the road is the island’s only town, Hanga Roa. The waterfront is the busiest place in town, with fishing boats, surfers and divers. Here, too, is Cristianazo’s, the restaurant where we ordered goodies for our farewell dinner.

We stopped at the post office so folks could get their passports stamped. No problems with that, but they were out of postage stamps …. Hoping some will arrive on the next freighter from the mainland.

The Catholic Church, located in the center of town, is notable for its woodcarvings. On its grounds are buried Father Sebastian Englert, who served as parish priest from 1935-1969, and Eugene Eyraud, who introduced Christianity and tuberculosis to the island.

Other points of interest: the local cemetery (Catholic missionaries put a stop to heathen cremation practices) and free-range horses (lots of people have horses, but nobody bothers to fence them in). Otherwise, it’s a touristy town – lots of little shops and restaurants, all expensive!

Our last evening on Easter Island was spent at the Tahai Ceremonial Complex, a beautiful park with several ahus and moai. Ahu Tahai has five standing moai; Ahu Ko Te Riku and Ahu Vai Ure have one each.

Ahu Ko Te Riku has the only moai restored with coral and obsidian eyes.

With the setting sun as a backdrop, we enjoyed a picnic dinner of empanadas and mango sours. A perfect ending for a magical visit to the island of Rapa Nui.

One wonders what we have learned from Easter Island. Islanders constructed, over many years, an advanced society with an elaborate set of social and religious customs that enabled them to survive and flourish. It was in many ways a triumph of human ingenuity and apparent victory over a difficult environment. But in the end, increasing numbers and ambitions of the islanders proved too great for the limited resources available to them. The environment was ruined and society collapsed. Our own society today has continued to obtain more food and extract more resources to sustain increasing numbers of people and more technologically advanced societies. The question is ... have we been any more successful than the Easter Islanders in finding a way of life that does not fatally deplete our limited resources and irreversibly damage our life support system?

BUENOS AIRES

From Easter Island, we flew to Buenos Aires, the capital and largest city of Argentina. Argentina, in turn, is the second-largest country in South America, filling up most of the southern half of the continent. The area was ruled by the Spanish for many years, with independence achieved in 1816. Juan Peron was elected president in 1946 and sought to empower working class people who had suffered under earlier regimes. He was overthrown in 1955, returned to office in 1973 and died shortly thereafter. What followed was not pretty – from 1976 to 1983, a series of oppressive military leaders ruled the country until their last bit of credibility disappeared when Argentina lost the Falklands War to the British in 1982. It has taken the country twenty years and seven presidents to dig out of dire economic and social instability.

Buenos Aires is the second largest city in Latin America, with over 13 million residents. It is one of Latin America’s most culturally distinctive cities, the home of tango, soccer, and Evita. The city was named after Nuestra Senora de Santa Maria del Buen Aire, provider of good wind, the patron saint of 16^th-century Portuguese sailors who first landed here in 1516. The area was later claimed by the Spanish Pedro de Mendoza in 1536. Today, it is a 24-hour city, with people out and about at all hours.

We arrived in mid-afternoon and met the other members of our travel group. There were 23 of us, from all over the U.S.: Arizona, California, Colorado, Illinois, Massachusetts, Nevada, New York, Oregon, South Carolina and Washington DC. Our introduction to Argentina got started right away – with a tango demo and lesson! It’s just as hard as it looks on ‘Dancing with the Stars,’ but we worked up a good appetite for our welcome dinner – steaks!

The City Center is a somewhat chaotic mix of grand 19^th-century public buildings, cafés, high rises, and speeding traffic. In its heart is the spacious, palm-dotted Plaza de Mayo, home to weekly demonstrations by the Abuelas (Grandmothers) de Plaza de Mayo. They want the government to assist in finding children who disappeared or were born in captivity during the time of the military dictatorship that ruled between 1976 and 1983. In its center stands the Piramide de Mayo, erected in 1811 to mark the first anniversary of the overthrow of the Spanish conquistadors.

The pink governmental palace, Casa Rosada, sits at the eastern end of the square. The building is a typically Argentinean blend of French and Italian Renaissance styles. The pink color was achieved with the use of ox blood, for both decorative and practical reasons – the blood acts as a fixative to the whitewash to which it was added. The first balcony on the left is the “Peron balcony,’ made famous by Eva Peron.

At the far end of the square from the Casa Rosada is the Cabildo, the only colonial-era civil public building that managed to survive the rebuilding craze of the 1880’s. This was the first city hall built during the Spanish rule; it now houses a small museum.

On the north side of the plaza stands the Metropolitan Cathedral, which was first built in the 16^th century. It has been built and rebuilt many times, assuming its present form in the mid-19^th century. The bishop here was a man named Jorge Mario Bergoglio, now better known as Pope Francis.

The interior of the cathedral is impressive, with beautiful paintings and sculptures in chapels around the outer walls. One of those chapels houses the tomb of Jose de San Martin, one of the leaders of South America’s struggle for independence from Spain.

Another important city landmark is the Teatro Colon. This French Renaissance structure is most famous as an opera house, but it also hosts ballet and classical recitals. It is undoubtedly Argentina’s most prestigious cultural institution. The theater, which opened in 1908 with a performance of Verdi’s Aida, is considered to have some of the best acoustics in the world.

The interior has undergone a recent renovation that involved 130 architects and engineers. The lobby is loaded with paintings and sculptures, costumed figures and crystal chandeliers. The auditorium has 2500 seats, plus standing room for 1000 more.

La Boca is the city’s colorful southern port district, where inhabitants seem to flaunt their idiosyncrasies. It’s possibly only place in world where it’s the norm to paint house, telephone poles and trees in the colors of your favorite football team. Statues in a balcony above the bakery depict the three greatest passions of Buenos Aires: football (soccer), politics and tango!

Caminito is a former railway siding now transformed into a short pedestrian street and open-air art museum. This area contains the greatest concentration of vibrantly painted houses, though the locals refer to it as the best example of “Buenos Aires for Export.” Down the middle of the street, there is a continuous arts and crafts fair, with tango musicians performing along the way.

Geography lesson: Boca means ‘mouth’ in Spanish – the neighborhood is named for its location at the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, the widest river in the world. The river is 30 miles wide here, 100 miles wide at its juncture with the Atlantic Ocean.

Recoleta is one of the city’s wealthiest neighborhoods, renowned for its palaces, plazas and parks. Set off against luxuriant jacaranda trees, the architectural styles of the many aristocratic palaces are part Spanish, part British, but overwhelmingly French. In the middle of the United Nations Square is the Generic Floralis, a gigantic metal sculpture of a flower. An electrical system automatically opens and closes the petals depending on the time of day.

Here too, is La Recoleta, one of the world’s most astonishing cemeteries, in terms of atmosphere and the sheer beauty of its tombs. Amidst a city of nearly 5000 family mausoleums, it is here that Eva ‘Evita’ Peron is buried - in the mausoleum of her father's family (Duarte). The first lady of President Juan Peron, Evita became a national heroine for her efforts to assist the poor and to build schools, orphanages and hospitals. She died at the young age of 33 and many Argentinians are still in mourning.

Just north of Buenos Aires, the Parana River - unknown to most Americans - is the 13^th longest river in the world. It flows some 2500 miles through Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay and Argentina. The Parana Delta is one of Argentina's most bountiful ecosystems and internationally protected wetlands, but human encroachment in the form of urban settlements, farming and cattle breeding is jeopardizing this vast coastal region and its biodiversity. Its ecosystem of rivers, streams and islands stretches over nearly 9000 square miles.

The Parana delta is one of the most important of its kind in the world. It has ecological functions such as softening the effects of floods and droughts, preventing erosion, protecting the coast and regulating the climate. The delta helps to purify water and provides natural resources. It is a refuge for plants and animals.

We took a short, relaxing boat ride through this maze of lush green islands separated by rivers and streams. There are no roads here; everyone travels by boat – to the grocery store, to church, even to the art museum.

Along with kayakers and rowers, there is a steady stream of boat traffic hauling goods and making deliveries up and down the river.

Lining the banks, traditional stilt houses are being crowded out by large vacation homes owned by well-to-do families from Buenos Aires.

The delta is a relatively undeveloped paradise, but its future is uncertain. Farmers and ranchers are encroaching on the delta islands, which are also being exploited to supply the cellulose, paper and plywood industries. Economic growth or environmental preservation? Time will tell.

We wrapped up our Buenos Aires visit with dinner at the home of Ana Maria Clar. She and her son live in a downtown apartment, where they welcomed six of us with interesting conversation and delicious food. Best of all was flan for dessert!

PATAGONIA

Enough of the big city – it’s time for the main event – Patagonia, that mysterious region at the far south of the South American continent. It is shared between Argentina and Chile and runs at its tip into the bleak archipelago known as Tierra del Fuego. The Andes Mountains follow the Pacific Coast for nearly 5000 miles, forming the high backbone of South America. In Patagonia, those mountains are a bleak world of ice and rock, crossed by deep forested valleys and narrow arms of the sea. Ferdinand Magellan was the first white man to visit this place as he searched for a passage to the west. As he discovered, Patagonia is wet, cold, windy – and beautiful.

Leaving Buenos Aires at 4AM, we landed in Ushuaia, the provincial capital of Tierra del Fuego, a windswept island wilderness. This is a seriously remote location, tucked away right at the foot of the South American continent, but Ushuaia is a bustling town nestled between snow-capped peaks and frigid dark waters that once teemed with sea lions. These days it teems with tourists …

We arrived in cold, wet and windy weather, so we headed straightaway to the local shrine of Gauchito Gil – to offer him a beer and to ask him for safe travels and good weather. Gauchito Gil is a folk saint, a legendary character of Argentine popular culture. His real name was Antonio Gil, and he was a farmer/soldier who deserted from the army and became an outlaw helping and protecting the needy. He was captured and killed by the police, but not before he healed the sick son of the man who murdered him. The grateful policeman spread the news of this miracle, roadside shrines sprang up around the country, and now people make pilgrimages to ask Gil for favors. The Catholic Church has not recognized Gauchito Gil as a saint, but millions of Argentinians hope to see that change.

Nearby was a smaller shrine, this one dedicated to another popular saint, Difunta Correo. According to legend, she died in the desert when her supplies ran out. Her baby miraculously survived – when gauchos found her body, the baby was alive and feeding on the deceased woman’s ever-full breast. The survival of the child was considered Correo’s first miracle and soon people starting visiting her grave to ask her for favors. Devotees have built shrines and chapels all over the country and bring bottles of water as offerings to calm her eternal thirst. The Catholic Church remains unconvinced.

In 1896, the Argentine government established a penal colony in Ushuaia, with the idea of colonizing with convicts. Forced prison labor was used for developing the settlement’s infrastructure and for logging the local forests to build the town. The former prison now houses a prison museum, a maritime museum, and an art gallery. There is also a replica of the original San Juan de Salvamento wooden lighthouse.

Near the waterfront, there is a memorial park commemorating Argentina’s 1982 conflict with Great Britain over the Falkland Islands, known here as the Malvinas Islands. The battle lasted only 74 days, with an unhappy ending for the Argentine forces. The negative outcome did nothing to alter the local belief that these islands belong to Argentina. The huge map at the memorial has empty spaces until the missing islands are returned.

Near the memorial is the ‘Museo Pensar Malvinas,’ the To Think Malvinas Museum. Here we visited with Miguel Cardinas, a veteran of the Falklands war. His unit was among the last to withdraw from the islands as victory was claimed by Great Britain. He told us about his war experiences and the difficulties he encountered in returning home from an embarrassing defeat. His story sounded much like our own experiences with Vietnam.

We capped off our tour of the city with a delicious lunch at the mountainside home of Gabrielle and Gustavo. Their home was filled with beautiful mementos of their world travels, and their table was filled with wonderful food – lentil stew and spinach empanadas, followed by tres leches cake and dulce de leche brownies. (Tres leches cake is a sponge cake soaked in three kinds of milk: evaporated milk, condensed milk, and heavy cream. Dulce de leche is a confection made by slowly heating sweetened milk until it thickens and caramelizes.)

Ushuaia is the starting point for cruises to Antarctica and the Chilean fjords, but it also is the gateway to the Tierra del Fuego National Park. The park stretches along the frontier with Chile and encompasses a landscape shaped by glaciers in bygone eras: jagged mountains, intricate lakes, southern beech forest, swampy peat bogs, subantarctic tundra and verdant coastline.

The vegetation here is mostly three different types of beech trees – two evergreen and one deciduous. Many are decorated with a local type of mistletoe. There are also many peat bogs, accumulations of dead plant material, mostly Sphagnum mosses, reeds and grasses that have built up over centuries in damp valley bottoms.

Water is everywhere – some salty, some fresh, some brackish - it was hard to keep it all straight. Here (we think) are Lapataia Bay, Roca Lake, and Ensenada Bay.

We hiked part of the Sendera Costera (Coastal Path) to Lapataia Bay, an inlet of the Beagle Channel. The end of the trail was near the end of the Pan American Highway; this southernmost terminus is 11,000 miles from the northern end of the highway in Alaska.

Here, at Lapataia Bay, we got our first look at Upland Geese. What a difference between the white males and brownish females!

High in the sky, we also saw our first (on this trip) Andean Condor. We loved watching them ride the thermals and marvel at that wingspan.

The park is also home to the endemic Fuegian Red Fox, which we were thrilled to spot along the roadway. This endangered species was once heavily hunted for its pelt.

Back in Ushuaia, we enjoyed a traditional Argentine asado (barbecue) - beef, lamb and sausages cooked over an open fire. It was quite a feast.

Before leaving the self-proclaimed “End of the World,” we had time to enjoy blooming flowers all over town. Lupine seems to be everyone’s top choice for color – they are everywhere and don’t seem to mind the cold!

M/V VIA AUSTRALIS

Our home for the next four nights was the M/V Via Australis, as we cruised to Cape Horn and on to Punta Arenas. Built in 2005, the ship has 64 cabins with big picture windows; there are 4 decks, 2 lounges, and an excellent restaurant. There’s also a game room, small library, gift shop, a doctor on board - and, of course, magnificent panoramic views in every direction.

We were cruising in a region where there are no towns, no ports, and no piers for docking the ship. When we did leave the ship on expeditions, we traveled in zodiacs (big rubber rafts that hold about 15 people). And we learned quickly that the weather can change in an instant – it was important to dress for every possibility. Sometimes it was cold enough for wearing two shirts, two jackets, and three pairs of pants – and a backpack for when it warmed up enough to shed a few layers.

Our first stop (at dawn!) was Cape Horn, the southernmost headland of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago of southern Chile – the southern tip of the Americas. The need for ships to sail around Cape Horn was greatly reduced by the opening of the Panama Canal, but for decades it was a major milestone on the route by which ships carried trade around the world. The waters around the Cape are particularly hazardous, owing to strong winds, large waves, strong currents and icebergs; these dangers have made it notorious as a sailors' graveyard.

The Cape marks the northern boundary of the Drake Passage, the body of water that separates South America and Antarctica, and it features the coldest wind we ever hope to experience. Many cruises are unable to make landing here because of high winds and rough seas; now that we made it back safely, we’re glad that we were able to land – during the ride over and back we weren’t so sure.

At this rocky promontory rising 1400 feet above the water, we went ashore to visit Cape Horn National Park and to survey the turbulent landscape/seascape that has been declared a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve. The Chilean Navy maintains a station here, consisting of a residence, utility building, a chapel, and lighthouse.

A short distance from the station is a memorial, including a large sculpture made by Chilean sculptor José Balcells featuring the silhouette of an albatross, in honor of the sailors who died while attempting to "round the Horn". It was erected in 1992. It was exhilarating to be there, but not a place to linger!

Walaia Bay was once the site of the region’s largest native settlements; for at least 6000 years, this was the home of the Yamana people. In 1884, the arrival of early settlers triggered a measles epidemic that killed half of the native population, an event that marked the beginning of the end for the native people.

We walked in Charles Darwin’s footsteps through a forest of native vegetation to a scenic lookout point. The views were so spectacular – it was hard to believe we were really there!

We sailed along the southern fjords and glaciers of the Beagle Channel, which was named by Captain Robert Fitzroy in honor of his ship, HMS Beagle. We spent the morning ashore near Pia Glacier, which originates in the Darwin Mountain Range and grinds its way to the sea.

Pia is a hanging glacier; it is over ¾ mile wide and more than 750 feet high. It is also a very active glacier, so our ship anchored some distance away and we approached in zodiacs. Navigating through the ice floes was no small feat – and it was cold out there!

We hiked to the top of a nearby hill for a different view. From this vantage point, another glacier is visible to the right of Pia Glacier. This one is known as the Dead Glacier – it has been inactive for many years. From the hilltop, we also had a nice view of fjord through which we had sailed – a glacial valley leading back to the Beagle Channel.

Leaving Pia Glacier, we continued into the Beagle Channel’s northwestern arm, through an area known as Glacier Alley. This dynamic environment is in constant flux - all the more so in recent years due to the effects of global warming. The Patagonian glaciers of Chile and Argentina are melting so rapidly that they are making a significant contribution to the rise of the sea level. These calving glaciers are more sensitive to climate change, making this region the fastest area of glacial retreat on Earth.

We sailed up the Garibaldi Fjord for another spectacular glacier-viewing. The Garibaldi Glacier is a tidal glacier, 1640 feet wide and 1300 feet tall. It is nearly 4 miles in length, stretching from the coast to its origin high in the Darwin Mountain Range.

Glaciers weren’t the only excitement in the fjord. We spotted a couple of South American sea lion colonies. Bigger than their North American cousins, their noisy antics never fail to entertain.

Heading north, we sailed into Alberto de Agostini National Park, named for an Italian-born Salesian priest who lived and worked here studying the local indigenous people. We are surrounded by a landscape of mountains graced with glaciers, flowing all the way to the sea. The indisputable beauty and solitude of this place reassures us that there are still great unexplored territories, rich with natural history, and that we are blessed to be able to visit here.

Chico Sound is a jumbled landscape of rocks, eroded by ice. It is the home of the intensely blue Piloto Glacier, which we viewed from the water aboard our Zodiac rafts.

Piloto Glacier is an active tidal glacier, calving several times while we were in the area. Above it to the right is Nena Glacier, and inactive hanging glacier. These together provide a nice illustration of the differences between these two types of glaciers.

Chico Sound was also the home of several waterfalls formed by melting ice from glaciers higher up in the mountains.

Bird-watching was fun here, too – almost everything we saw was new to us – wandering albatross, dolphin gull, king cormorant, kelp gull, and the high-flying Andean condor.

Also in the neighborhood is Aguila Glacier, fronted a smooth beach and ringed by forest. As our ship approached, the glacier and surrounding mountains were a beautiful sight – we piled into our little boats and headed ashore.

The shoreline was rough walking – rocks, rocks and more rocks – but there were also nice flowers and more pretty views.

We hiked down the coast and went around the trees and – bingo – there was Aquila Glacier, up close and personal! We have no estimates of size for this one – our guide said that it hasn’t been measured. There are so much unexplored territory down here that it will be years before scientists scope it all out.

As we prepared to board the zodiacs for the ride back to the ship, the crew was waiting to serve us hot chocolate – laced with scotch (on request). This was some of the best hot chocolate we’ve ever tasted, and it was offered at the end of every landing/expedition. Sadly, the chef would not part with the recipe.

Dawn was just breaking when we arrived at Madgalena Island, the home of Natural Monument “Los Pinguinos” - an immense colony of more than 120,000 Magellanic penguins. These black and white critters maybe less glamorous than their larger cousins, but it’s quite an experience to wander around the scrubland avian metropolis amid a cacophony of squawking and braying birds.

Magellanic penguins grow to be about 2 feet tall and weigh 6 to 14 pounds. Adults have black backs and white abdomens; males are larger than females. Their lifespan is about 20 years. Although millions of Magellanic penguins live on the coasts of Argentina and Chile, they are classified as a threatened species because of the decline in fish populations and their vulnerability to oil spills. Oil spills kill 20,000 adults and 22,000 juveniles every year off the coast of Argentina.

We were confined to a marked walking trail around the island. It made good sense to protect nesting areas, but we still were surrounded on all sides by waddling birds as they totter about their business, mostly unafraid of human visitors.

They nest behind the beach in holes and underneath bushes, with a close eye on approaching strangers.

We enjoyed watching the penguins make their way down the steep hillside to the beach – not an easy trek for these little guys. They were much more graceful in the water, where they gathered for a morning swim.

Even more amazing was listening to the sounds around us. Penguins do a lot of squawking, as do the other bird species that this island as a breeding habitat: cormorants, kelp and dolphin gulls, upland and kelp geese, and black-faced ibis. But we also heard the sound that explains why some folks call these ‘jackass penguins.’ Give a listen.

The local porpoises seemed glad to see us. They put on quite a show, playing with the zodiacs, diving and breaching.

Our cruise ended at Punta Arenas, Chile, a bustling port town, dating back to 1848, when it was originally a military garrison and penal settlement. The town’s golden age lasted from the late 1800s to World War I, an era of sheep-farming barons and merchants supplying marine traffic around Cape Horn.

A common sight here (and all over Patagonia) were homemade signs telling us how far it is to various spots around the world. It’s not clear who puts these up or decides what locations are worth mentioning, but it is clear that we’re a long way from anywhere …

Another common sight (here and around the world) are love locks, padlocks which sweethearts lock to a bridge, fence, or gate to symbolize their love. The sweethearts’ names or initials are inscribed on the lock and the key is thrown away to symbolize unbreakable love.

We stopped in Punta Arenas for lunch and a walk about town. There are beautiful old homes belonging to rich cattle barons, a grand cathedral, and a statue of Ferdinand Magellan in the middle of the central plaza.

Having regained our land legs, we boarded a small bus and set off across the pampas – high plains with short grass and no trees. We made a quick stop at a roadside shrine dedicated to Difunta Correo – a recycler’s worst nightmare. We offered her a drink of water and asked for safe travels.

We made a stop to see our first Chilean flamingos. These birds live in lakes, lagoons or coastal estuaries, ranging from lowlands to high altitudes, along the coast or far inland and with great temperature variations. Needless to say, they are extremely hardy birds, as is their neighbor – the Black-Faced Ibis.

On down the road, we spotted some more hardy residents of the pampas – a gaucho and his dog, heading home after a long day’s work, and a lone alpaca. Alpaca are commonly found in Peru and Brazil, but the Argentine government is trying to help introduce this valuable animal to ranchers in this country.

We stopped for the night in Puerto Natales, Chile – a small town situated in the shadow of the Andes, on the shore of Last Hope Sound. Across the water is Cerro Castillo – a jagged mountain peak reaching nearly 9000 feet and flanked by three major glaciers on its southern slopes. A pretty, scenic spot, but we didn't stay long.

Back on the bus and on the road again. This is a vast wilderness and we were fortunate to have driver/guide expert at spotting wildlife. First we stopped to look at a Black-Chested Buzzard-Eagle dining on some roadside European hare. This is an immature bird, but he’s already learned that highways are a good source of food.

He has not yet learned to defend himself against a pair of Chimango Caracaras who swooped in and banished him to a nearby fence post.

While these were busy eating, the neighborhood bully – a Crested Caracara – came strutting out of the grass.

The pair on the ground didn't notice the Crested Caracara, but the eagle sure did.

The Crested Caracara marched on in and claimed a fence post.

The pair of Chimangos took off, leaving the eagle and the Crested Caracara staring at each other, with the road kill between them. And there we left them, wondering who got the upper hand. Our guide said that a mature buzzard-eagle would run off the caracara, but this youngster might not be so lucky.

Along the way we saw quite a few Crested Caracara – walking through the tall grass, sitting on fence posts, and dining on road kill.

We saw several groups of guanaco as we traveled through the wind-swept Patagonian steppes (high plains). The guanaco is native to South America, the southernmost member of the Andean camel family, which includes llama, alpaca and vicuna. Adults stand about six feet tall and weigh about 200 pounds. The conquistadors estimated about half a billion of them at the time of their arrival, but their numbers are now about half a million. We usually spotted them in groups, but there were occasional lonesome males wandering around the hillsides.

Here, too, we had our best looks at the rhea, a large flightless bird similar to the ostrich, but native to South America. The locals call them nandu, but scientists label this one as the Lesser Rhea, or Darwin’s Rhea. Rheas are omnivorous, mostly eating broad-leafed plants. Like the guanaco, they’re not bothered by ranchers’ fences and roam freely across the plains, but they do streak off across the desert at every approach of the bus.

We stopped for a chat with Manuel, a rugged and sunburnt gaucho on his way to check his sheep and the fences that are supposed to contain them. Ranches here are so large that they are divided into sectors, with one gaucho assigned to each sector. His job is to mind the sheep and mend the fences – and watch out for puma, which are fairly common in this area. His dogs and his horse are his most important possessions. Thanks to our driver, this particular cowboy had a new jacket and a pack of cigarettes – he was smiling when he rode off into the sunset ..

We had such a wonderful morning, we had barely noticed that the landscape had changed. The hills got bigger, the water got bluer – and all of a sudden, the clouds opened and we got our first glimpse of the peaks of Torres del Paine National Park.

The Paine Massif is the centerpiece of Torres del Paine National Park, a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve encompassing over half a million acres of the Andes Mountain Range in southern Chile. The massif includes:

· Cerro Paine Grande, the tallest peak in the park at 10,000 feet;

· Torres del Paine, three gigantic granite spires shaped by the forces of glacial ice;

· Cuernos del Paine, a two-horned formation of contrasting layers of igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic rock unique in the world.

As the sun came out, we left the bus and started walking toward the mountains. First stop was Salto Grande, a waterfall on the Paine River. The waterfall’s height was not overwhelming (maybe 50 feet or so), but its tremendous power more than made up for it. The water from the upper lake (Lago Nordenskjol) funnels into a narrow chute with a thunderous noise on its way to the lower lake (Lago Pehoe).

What was overwhelming was the beauty of the glacier-fed upper lake and the massive peaks behind it. Hiking here was just perfect – perfectly beautiful.

A lone guanaco was out for a stroll, too – enjoying the scenery, no doubt.

Making our way across the park, we followed the Paine River and enjoyed scenic vistas that changed with every curve in the road.

We stopped at Lago Grey, one of the many glacially-fed lakes in the park, for another hike. We crossed the Grey River on a swinging footbridge and then wound through the old-growth forest to a beach on the shore of Lago Grey. Grey Glacier has retreated nearly 55 feet a year for the past 90 years, creating a remarkable study of soil creation and plant development from bare rock to thick forest.

Crossing the gravel spit across the lake was hard work – the rocks made walking tough and the wind seemed always be in our faces! From the lake we followed a rugged goat path up a hill to a vantage point overlooking the Grey Glacier (which, for the record, is blue).

By the time we reached our lakeside hotel, we were wonderfully tired and more than ready for a delicious meal overlooking the lake. There was no shortage of spectacular views around this place.

We didn't think it could get any better, but … dawn brought new reasons to sit and stare at water, ice, mountains and sky. We couldn't decide which view was best – our room, the dining room, the deck? Watch the short video for a more panoramic look at this scene.

We couldn't think of any good reason to leave Lago Grey, but our trip leader insisted that we move on. Our drive took us along the shore of Lago Pehoe, a beautiful lake in its own right, but downright breathtaking with the Paine Massif as the backdrop. The big wide mountain to the left is the Paine Grande and just right of center is Los Cuernos. To the right of Los Cuernos, the three towers of Torres del Paine are visible in the second photo.

Here’s another look at Salto Grande (the waterfall) and Los Cuernos. These are places that we hiked yesterday, seen from a very different angle near the lower lake (Lago Pehoe).

When we weren't overwhelmed by the scenery, we were busy looking at wildlife. On this stretch of the trip, we came across a large group of guanaco grazing on lush grass and enjoying a drink of water. A group of tourists managed to spook them into running away, but it nice to see them run – so elegant and graceful.

Also saw some more rheas – these were pretty busy eating and didn't run away immediately.

Our last ‘official’ stop in the park was an at overlook that provided a nice vice of the three towers – the Torres del Paine that give the park its name. Here’s the long view and a close-up.

In the same area, we spotted more Guanacos, another Andean Condor and a Patagonian Red Fox.

On our way out of the park, we had a last long look at this iconic scene: gaucho with horse and dog, running sheep, with the Paine Massif behind them. We never had an office with a view like that …

We said good-bye to Chile and headed across the border (no small feat) into Argentina. Our first stop was at a shrine for Gauchito Gil – once again to offer him a drink and ask his help for safe travels and continuing good weather.

As we headed toward El Calafate, our guide thought it time for us to try some yerba mate, the national drink of Argentina. It is an herbal tea, made from a shrub of the holly family. The act of drinking yerba mate is a highly stylized, almost ritualistic process. It is traditionally drunk in a social setting, such as family gatherings or with friends. Some mate herb is placed in gourd cup, which is then filled with hot water until no more water is absorbed. One then drinks the mate, the gourd is refilled with water and passed on to the next person in the group. Yerba mate is supposed to have healing powers including mental stimulation, fatigue reduction, stress reduction, insomnia elimination, appetite control, body immunization, blood detoxification, nervous system toning, restoration of hair color, and preservation of youth. Gotta love it …

El Cafate was our base for exploring Los Glaciares National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The town embraces a set of shallow lagoons on the south side of Lago Argentino, in which hundreds of pink flamingos compete with black-necked swans and assorted ducks. Horses graze around the edge of the lake. Nice spot.

The drive to Los Glaciares took us along the edge of Lake Argentina and many large ranches in the hills above the town.

We also saw more birds of prey praying for road kill – a couple of immature Black-Chested Buzzard Eagles and another Crested Caracara.

Los Glaciares is the second-largest national park in Argentina and comprises more than 1700 square miles and nearly 50 large glaciers. These glaciers are fed by a giant icecap (the largest continental ice sheet after Antarctica) that begins in the Andes and occupies over a third of the park. The highlight of the park is the Perito Moreno Glacier, seen here in an aerial view (with thanks to Claudio Suter for this picture).

This is not your average piece of frozen water – it is a truly awe-inspiring 200-foot high wall of ice stretching across Lake Argentina. Perito Moreno Glacier is some ten miles long; at its front edge, the ice is broken and convoluted into fantastic shapes. It is one of only three Patagonian glaciers that is not retreating.

A catwalk leads around the edge of the forest to a narrow inlet directly across from the glacier’s base. From there, 600+ steps bring us up along its face. Here massive pieces of ice break away with a sound like thunder and float away majestically as icebergs. It’s quite a spectacle.

IGUASSU FALLS

From thundering ice to thundering water – our final stop on this trip was Iguassu Falls, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. These falls are a series of cataracts on the Iguassu River, 14 miles above its confluence with the upper Paraná River, at the Argentina-Brazil border. We spent one day on the Brazil side and one day on the Argentina side. The Brazil side offers the best panoramic views; the Argentina side offers the opportunity to truly experience the falls – up close and personal.

The falls resemble an elongated horseshoe that extends for 1.7 miles – nearly three times wider than Niagara Falls and significantly greater than the width of Victoria Falls in Africa. Numerous rocky and wooded islands on the edge of the escarpment over which the river plunges divide the falls into some 275 separate waterfalls or cataracts, varying between 200 and 269 feet in height (Niagara is 167 feet). The name of the falls, like that of the river, is derived from an Indian word meaning “great water.” On her first sight of the tremendous falls, Eleanor Roosevelt exclaimed: “Poor Niagara!” (Thanks again to Claudio Suter for this picture.)

Our first stop was on the Brazil side – again, crossing the border was not an easy proposition, reminding us again why we are so happy to have OAT take care of all these details. As we made our way into Iguaçu National Park, we could hear the noise long before we could see the river. That was partly because it started raining, but mostly because there is an incredibly large amount of water moving with great force down this river.

We walked the aptly named Path of the Falls Trail, a slippery but relatively easy hike along the river with lots of overlooks to see the various falls that make up Iguassu Falls. We could see some crazy people in boats that were going UNDER one of the falls – little did we know that’s where we were headed.

The trail ends at an overlook for the most dazzling of them all – the 300-foot high Devil’s Throat.

On the Argentine side, we hiked the Sendero Verde (Green Trail) into Iguazu National Park and then rode a little train several miles along the Upper Iguassu River, well above the falls. Here we saw our first many South American Coatis, also known as the ring-tailed coati. These cousins of the North American raccoon have much variation in color. They typically live in forests, both on the ground and in trees. They are omnivorous and seem to be continually searching for food, poking their long noses anywhere and everywhere.

We then walked the Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat) Trail – a series of walkways and bridges from island to island to a viewing balcony overlooking the most spectacular part of the falls.

Along the way, wildlife was relatively abundant considering the crowds of people here. Two of our favorites: the Broad-Nosed Caiman and the Plush-Crested Jay.

We viewed the Devil’s Throat from the exact opposite bank of the river from where we were standing yesterday, but there was so much mist we could barely see the other side. We could see a tree loaded with Black Vultures, many with wings stretched out to dry.

We rode train back to pick up the Upper Trail (Circuito Superior), which carried us along the upper lip of the falls. It’s a beautiful walk – most unusual to walk along/above the lip of waterfalls, especially over a distance of several miles. The second photo here is looking down Salto Bossetti, which we will see later from a very different vantage point.

After lunch, we piled into a glorified pick-up truck for a ride down to the boat landing on the Lower Iguazu River. On the way, we spotted a Toco Toucan, a Little Callicore Butterfly and an Eighty-eight Butterfly.

At the river, we were given a life jacket to wear and waterproof bags for our belongings. We donned our rain gear and set off for a closer look at these waterfalls.

And we did get some closer looks – much closer. Going upriver, we could see into the Devil’s Throat, but the boat turned off into a tributary - still plenty of water, but much less rocks/rapids. After a few minutes for photos, the order came to stow all cameras in the waterproof bag and then we headed right into the falls. Not once, but three times – needless to say, there was lots of yelling and laughing and we call got drenched – not sure why we bothered with raingear (but it was warm and we dried quickly).

Here we are after the boat ride – ready for the long walk up to the top of the falls. The group photo was taken at the lower viewpoint for Bossetti Falls – the same one we atop earlier in the day.

The walk wasn't bad at all as we were distracted with wildlife spotted along the way, starting with this amazing Black-Fronted Piping Guan. This species has become quite rare in recent decades due to hunting and habitat destruction.

At the base of a smaller tributary waterfall, we saw a Rufescent Tiger Heron. This is another uncommon species, and he was standing so still by the water that we almost didn't see him.