"A Trip of a Lifetime" may be a trite phrase, usually applied to trips more mundane and not at all deserving of superlatives, but not this trip! This was to be an all-out, hang the expense cruise, covering a lot of South America. We, and few of our friends, had ever been to South America.
We embarked on this Antarctic Explorer Cruise of the Holland American ship Rotterdam, looking forward to seeing the birthplace of the tango in Buenos Aeries, and the samba shows in Rio de Janeiro. We were soon to learn of the incredible beauty of the Chilean mountains and glaciers.
The Rotterdam took us from Santiago, Chile, down the coast by way of the Darwin Passage, the Beagle Channel and the Magellan Straits, then around The Horn to the Falkland Islands and across the sea to Buenos Aeries, Argentina, and to Montevideo, Uruguay. Finally we sailed to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil where we stayed for a few days in a hotel, before flying home. The entire trip took twenty-one days and each one held something special.
The plane landed in Santiago, where it was around 60 degrees Fahrenheit. We were shuttled to the ship
which departed from Valparaiso The sea air was cooler than in the city. We spent a full day at sea,
and some 700 miles later we stopped at Puerto Montt.
Most of the coast of Chile is vertical mountains, and any village so close to the sea, such as Puerto Montt, is a real rarity. We did a tour of this lake country, consisting of a visit to a fish and produce market, and then to a farm for more fresh greens. We were guided by our chef/host. The tour ended with a meal prepared by him, in his restaurant on the shore of a large beautiful fresh water lake, with a view of the Andes mountains behind it.
Puerto Montt is where the Pan American Highway ends, and the Patagonian region begins. Puerto
Montt has many German colonists, who began settling the area as long ago as 1852. Many of the early
homes, such as the farm house from which the picture of the doorway was taken, are of definite Bavarian influence.
We entered Darwin Channel early on the third day, for a scenic cruise. The skies were overcast, the overwhelming beauty of near vertical mountains rising from the sea and the lower-lying hills, spawned from ancient coral reefs from this former tropical setting, made good subject matter for pictures. At first light I stood on our veranda, camera in hand, hardly believing what wonders were there before me. All day, each scene dwarfed that which proceeded it. Nightfall may have shielded even greater mountains from our view.
The next morning, the ship came to rest in front of Asia Glacier. We drifted for an hour, the ship would occasionally nudge her engines to keep her position. This was a magnificent sight, a blue glacier traveling all the way from the tops of these mountains to the sea.
The good ship Rotterdam continued south along the Chilean coast till morning the next day, when we docked at Punta Arenas, Chile. There was a strong breeze with cloudy skies, and the temperature didn't reach 50 F. We spent the day on a tour of a very old natural history museum and the very old cemetery. The museum displayed examples of local birds and mammals, some now extinct, and relics of Indians that formerly inhabited the area. The cemetery reminded us of similar cemeteries we had seen in New Orleans.
That evening we unmoored and sailed into the night, leaving Chile for Ushuaia, on the Canal de Beagle, our first contact with Argentina.
Our money will change from Chilean pesos at 580 to US $1.00 to Argentine pesos at 3.2 to US $1.00. And, we will soon lose another hour's sleep when we change our clocks.
Ushuaia! (oo-SHWAH-e-ya) We are now in Argentina. Ushuaia is in that part of Argentina, Tierra del Fuego, that is nearly separated from the major part of the country. I was troubled over the strange spelling, and wondered aloud why they couldn't have spelled it more phonetically...and now I see that they did. I just hadn't learned to read phonetically!
I like Ushuaia. There is a rivalry between Ushuaia and Puerto Williams, as to which country,Chile or Argentina, has the southern-most city in the world. The Chilean village of Puerto Williams, southwest across the Beagle Channel, may be further south, but the Ushuaians counter by saying, Puerto Williams isn't a "real" city.
We went to a book store in Ushuaia. It was a multi-level building, built into the side of a steep hill. I wished my friend Maureen, from a multi-leveled book store in Tacoma, could have been with us. This book store was well organized like the one in Tacoma. We bought tango post cards, blank journals and a book on the history of the tango.
And we're off again.
The next morning, we begin rounding the Horn. Stories abound about enormous and stormy waves we would probably encounter when our ship fights its way around the Horn. We were prepared to brace ourselves against rough seas as we traversed this place where the Pacific and the Atlantic meet. But, we were spared, and almost disappointed, that the ship was steadier here than it had been when we had, upon occasion, been subjected to the fury of off shore Chilian winds. Skillful seamanship and ship stablizers smoothed the sea to sea transition. As we had used inland passages for most of our voyage South from Santiago to the Horn we had been protected from any severe winds that might have pounded the west coast. So, our trip so far was only mildly rough, and I could find that only the constantly cloudy gray overcast was burdensome when it dimmed my view of the awesome beauty that stood before us. Hey, I'm trying to take a picture here!
Seas are moderate, stabilizers are set, it's 41 F with light snow. The captain suggests that we jump into the swimming pool and swim around the Horn. We didn't, but we received a certificate for "Rounding the Horn" anyway. It didn't take long and we were soon on the open Atlantic Ocean, sailing for the Falkland Islands.
The ship anchored outside of the Falkland islands the next morning, in a moderate gale, cloudy skies and 48 F. We didn't go ashore, it looked like a long ride in a diesel tender and too little time. The main attraction here, in Port Stanley, appeared to be the battle field where Argentine troops tried to take over the islands from the British, in 1982. Britain still rules there.
We weighed anchor that afternoon for the long sea voyage to Buenos Aires, arriving at the Rio de la Plata in the evening two days later, waiting to pick up a harbor pilot.
The next morning at 6:30 AM, when we docked in Buenos Aires, it was sunny! It was 80F at noon. We stayed there till 5:00 the next day. In the short time we were there, we walked though some shops, but the highlight was our tour to a Tango show, with a steak dinner. No pictures were allowed, but I picked up a DVD of a previous show.
Tango is an art form which was born in Buenos Aires, and honed to a fine edge over the years. Argentine tango is the oldest form, and American tango and international tango are variations. Argentinians live the art as a way of life, sometimes dancing tango in the streets. Professionals spend a lifetime perfecting their own version of the dance, which has few rules, but the feeling, the emotion, the passion that they put into are the constants that guide ther steps. Sally and I learned a form of tango dance in Tacoma as taught by a lady of Scandinavian descent. We did not demonstrate our Swedish tango for the Argentinians.
Even at 80F the beaches were mostly deserted. It was too early in the Argentine spring for sun-loving natives. They were probably waiting for a 90 degree day. Our trip encountered temperatures of less than 50 degrees as we rounded the southernmost end of South America and visited the cities which claim to be the farthest south in the world. But, our December trip was equivalent to northern hemisphere June weather. The glaciers were melting, as confirmed by natives, and the weather was indeed June-like. We were close to the Antarctic circle (just 3/4 of an inch away on my atlas map) as we rounded the horn, and it felt warm to the natives of Ushuaia and chilly early spring for the closer-to-the- equator Rio residents.
It was a relatively short trip through piloted shallow waters to Montevideo. We were there from 8:00AM to 5:00 PM. Montevideo has a reputation of being the most beautiful city in South America, probably referring to the marvelous architecture and unspoiled white sand (mostly deserted) beaches.
Over the years, because of it's position between Argentina and Brazil, Uruguay has served as a battleground for the other two countries, whenever they chose to wage war against the other.
Uruguay is troubled economically and is trying now to encourage tourism. They have the best leather factories. We visited two of them before sailing off again.
We were at sea for the next three days, before docking in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil at about 12:30 AM. All the passengers disembarked here in the morning. Our total sea distance from Santiago, Chile to Rio de Janeiro was 4879 nautical miles, or about 5611 statute miles.
Montevideo may have the best old buildings, but Rio has the best topography by far. Brazil is reputed to have about 5000 miles of white sand beach. The city itself has many high-rise buildings (many not attractive). It has a lagoon and many vertical rock projections, that require suspended cable cars or cog trains to negotiate. Many tunnels are required to connect various parts of the city. The people walk with apparent purpose. They speak Portuguese in Brazil. They study English in school, but it is not heard outside of there much. They are helpful and polite. They also party when they can, and carnival is a way of life. We saw happy people. We stayed in Rio a couple days before heading home. I wish it were closer, I wish it were here.
Our stay here included a tour to a Samba theater, featuring drums, wild samba dancing and scanty costumes. There were performances by Gauchos demonstrating native musical instruments and devises for herding cattle and catching small game.
We took a narrow gauge cogged train to the top of a steep mountain where the statue of Christ resides, overlooking the city. I estimate that the statue is over 100 feet high. It is the most pictured landmark in Rio, visible in all of the city, and images of it are prominently displayed wherever postcards are sold in South America.
The cogged railway has cogged drive wheels which engage a geared track, enabling the train to climb steep grades. The train in Rio is the twin of one that we rode in Switzerland several years ago. On the way up the mountain we had momentary stops at small neighborhood centers. But, for the most part we traveled though heavily wooded areas containing both wild and possibly cultivated trees. Some of the trees had large coconut-like brown husks that appeared to grow close to the trunk. These were not palm trees. Upon inquiring I was told that they are Jack(?) fruit trees imported from India, and that they grow well in Rio. I don't know if the fruit is edible, or by what other name they might be called. To satisfy my curiosity, I will have to find out more. On our ride through wooded sections we encountered whimsical life sized or giant sized cement figures of insects, reptiles, animals, even a soldier mounted on a horse, vividly painted, placed close to the track, apparently just for our amusement.
While the cogged railway was not a new experience for me, our ride to the top of Rio's Sugar Loaf mountain by overhead cable car was. We got to the top by first taking another cable car to the top of a slightly lower mountain, and from there on another cable car still higher to the Sugar Loaf summit. I will not admit to being terrified of heights, just that I am uncomfortable looking down from them, but not nearly as uncomfortable looking up at them. I can't explain the discomfort I feel when standing at the top of a perfectly substantial cliff or when looking out the window of a tall building, because I cannot discern any logic in my feeling. I have a private pilots license for single engine land aircraft and do not even have a feeling of height when in an airplane; but if I'm connected to the ground by a rope or a cable, the uneasiness returns. No logic to it at all. I judge all heights to be either "very high" or "much too high". I enjoyed the cable cars but in a clenched teeth sort of way. And the view from the top, looking down at the city and the boat filled lagoon and the islands far out to sea, I would repeat again and again. Such astounding beauty !
Portuguese is the language in Brazil. It is not Spanish, they will point out. And it's a language to be preserved, they will point out. We were told that probably more than 75 percent of the students in Rio have studied some English in school, but seldom speak English outside of school. We found that even waitresses in large hotels have a hard time writing orders given to them in English. While we had some minor difficulty in ordering food, we assumed that since we had made no effort to learn their language we could not fault them for not being fluent in ours. In any case, right or wrong, meals were served to us promptly by beautiful dark-eyed smiling gracious waitresses and we did not question whatever they served.
Rio de Janeiro is a wonderfully beautiful city, inhabited by beautiful people who appear to love their city as we do.