Travel notes - Ushuaia

As a child, I just loved my grandmother’s living room full of paintings and antiques, and one of my favorite objects in it was a globe. You could even hit a switch to light it up. Rotating the earth with my forefinger, I would look at the continents and imagine travelling to all those foreign places. Some names were, of course, more fascinating than others and a few evoked images and a curiosity that stayed with me until I was grown up. Lake Titicaca was on that list, Marrakesh, Luxor and Kairo, Timbuktu … and of course Tierra del Fuego and its capital city Ushuaia.

Coming to the conclusion that I would never get closer than this, I booked tickets to go before our time in Argentina ran out. Because of our tight schedule, we only had four days to fly down there and get back to Buenos Aires, but we managed to squeeze in most of the main attractions. And in those few days Ushuaia gave us a pretty good impression of what the weather is like all year round.

 

But that’s what Patagonia is famous for – the ever-changing weather. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s raining, then you have both at the same time. Yeah, so what else is new? Well, for us, Ushuaia pulled out all the stops. When we opened the curtains on the third day, it was snowing like crazy. But we were told that even for the Patagonian summer, this was very fierce and unusual. Everyone we spoke to was convinced that the climate is definitely changing. And the favorite argument supporting this was that the formerly “dry rain” nowadays actually soaks you through. Dry rain?? Ehm, well, sure.

We didn’t let the weather get in our way, but bundled up, used the sunny spells as best as we could and put in regular stops to drink hot tea and get warm again. We did the obligatory boat tour on the beagle channel and around the famous lighthouse, and it depends on the perspective to pick the adjective. We went in the morning, and it rained throughout the whole excursion. The hike on Isla Bridges was shortened to about ten minutes because the wind was icy and we couldn’t care less about the flora and fauna or the archeological Yamana site on the island. Lucho, our guide explained everything when we got back on board and showed us pictures in a book. I admit that this was absolutely fine with me.

 

But I wouldn’t call the trip a failure. With the unpredictable weather in Ushuaia you can call yourself lucky if you get to go at all, and we even made it around the lighthouse. Besides, we were only eight in a boat for 25, everybody was in a good mood, the crew was good fun and we managed to spend a few minutes on deck during some dry spells. So I am glad we went and did not wait in the hotel for a permanent change of weather like the American couple in our B&B. They even asked us what’s worth seeing in Ushuaia. What kind of question is that? Isn’t that something that everyone has to answer from his or her own perspective?

I personally do not regret the four days. Was Ushuaia like I had imagined it as a child? No, it wasn’t. But then I guess the strongest fascination during my childhood had stemmed from the remoteness of the place and the fact that I had not travelled much at that age. And the world seems to have become smaller since then, and when I look at a rotating globe today, it triggers different, real images from my trips to different corners of the world.

 

Ushuaia is now part of this mixture of real images and memories. When I hear the name I think of the beautiful harbour skyline and the quiet grey horizon close to the lighthouse, the friendly, almost chatty people and the delicious spidercrab dishes at Tia Nina’s, the strong nationalism expressed in numerous posters and wall graffiti angrily claiming the Malvinas property of Argentina, the cozy Hosteria Tierra Leyendas, where we were made very welcome, and the peaceful National park Tierra del Fuego, where we hiked in the snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still, there are many places left on that list. I will keep you posted.

 

Birthdays around the globe

The Rio post and my remark about us celebrating at foreign locations got me thinking. I tried to make a mental list of all the places that we have been on our birthdays and decide how exotic they really were – and to figure out the winner so far in the competition.

Apart from such international and trendy locations such as Düsseldorf, Mainz and Goslar – either because we had been living there at the time or visiting – here are the top spots of the last 22 years.

I kicked off the habit in 1995 with Santa Barbara, California. We were doing the typical road trip that summer with Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco, Las Vegas and Gran Canyon on the agenda, and we happened to be in Santa Barbara that day.

The husband followed suit in 1996 with St. Ives, GB, where we spent a week that year touring beautiful Cornwall. I have a very nice picture of that day in my album (unfortunately only analog) of him standing in a phone booth in Sennen Cove calling home. Since his Mom was out at that moment, he only talked to his Dad, though, and so he never heard those congratulations he had secretly hoped for. You all know how Dads are with dates and stuff, right?!

In 1999, we celebrated hubby’s birthday at the Warner Brothers Movie Park in Bottrop-Kirchhellen, Germany. I am not sure that this counts as an exotic location but we sure had fun. Since the weather was a bit shitty there weren’t any queues, and at some point birthday boy could ride the roller coaster  without even getting off his seat.

A bar in San Cristobal de las Casas

In 2003, it was my turn again in Mexico. We were backpacking through Yucatan that June, and we came to be in hot, humid Merida in the morning and in cooler, mountainy San Cristóbal de las Casas in Chiapas in the afternoon.

The husband tried to give chase in 2004 with Gran Canaria … Well, we had decided to get away for a week on a package deal to relax and recharge. On the day we did a little tour through the interior and the little villages f the island. And that is all I can remember.

Santa Catalina Cloister, Arequipa

In 2006, we both scored. We celebrated his 40^th birthday in Arequipa, Peru, where we spent almost four weeks visiting Lima, the Nazca Lines, Lake Titicaca, Cuzco, Puno, Chan Chan, but most importantly trekking the Inka Trail up to Machu Picchu. On my birthday I was in Toronto, Canada, visiting my sister, her husband and my two nephews. They got me one of these fantastic sugary birthday cakes that are kind of a tradition in my sister’s house, and in the evening we went to the movies to see Over the hedge. My significant other joined us later that week since he had been in Vancouver for business on the day.

New York, New York

In 2007, the husband at least started his birthday at a kind of exotic location, namely on board of a Lufhansa flight from Toronto to Frankfurt coming back from a business trip. The rest of the day was pretty tame with a celebratory dinner in Mainz. Since it was my turn to turn 40 that year I fulfilled a long-time dream and we went to New York to celebrate my birthday in the city that never sleeps. And of course we stopped by at Tiffany’s – although sadly they were out of telephone dialers that day.

Roses in BCN

Does it count that in 2008 sweetie celebrated his birthday in Barcelona, Spain, although we were living there at the time? Yeah, I guess so … it was our first year there and his first Sant Jordi, the day when - in celebration of the city’s patron saint – every woman receives a rose and every man a book. I woke up in Salamanca, Spain, on my birthday that year since hubby had a week of language tutoring there and I had accompanied him. After breakfast and presents we started our drive back to Barcelona stopping in Avila and Valle de los Caidos on the way for some sightseeing and in Sigüenza for a great birthday dinner and the night.

Medieval York

In 2009, the husband was in for a surprise trip down memory lane. After the obligatory cake in the morning I took him to the airport and we went to York, GB where we had lived for six months in 96. We drank tea at Bettys Tea Room and ate a great curry at his old time favorite The Viceroy of India.

If the rule applies we both can score a point for 2011, having spent our birthdays in Buenos Aires, our fairly brand new home at the time. Although I want some brownie points because the husband left me alone and went in a business trip so that I celebrated the day all by myself with my Girlie Day.

Pipa Beach

His birthday bash in 2012 is hard to beat. We went to Brazil that year, spending 5 days in a jungle lodge, followed by a week in a beautiful hotel up north in Pipa, Rio Grande do Norte. So on his birthday he woke up to the sound of waves, and we spent the day doing nothing much, enjoying the sun and the beach, drinking a Capirinha or two on the terrace and enjoying a great sea food dinner in the evening.

So who wins? 

Who the hell is Johnny Allon?

Returning to Buenos Aires always means a bag of mixed feelings. While a part of me has to take a deep breath and convince myself that it is really not so bad, the other part is looking forward to coming home, to the house, my own bed, everyday life - and of course seeing my husband after a usually longish absence.

There are actually two images that for me somehow represent those two hearts beating in my chest. 

The flight back to Buenos Aires with Lufthansa is a night flight, and we usually reach Ezeiza at around seven in the morning. Approaching the still dark Argentinean capital, the sea of lights stretching out below us is a sight to behold, and if we are lucky, the sun is starting to come up while we are circling and starting to descend. From that perspective Buenos Aires really looks like the metropolis it actually is and I am always feeling a bit lucky and privileged to be living in the city whose name invariably causes longing sighs and shiny eyes from those wanderlust-stricken friends and aquaintances who hear the name and dream of tango, melancholia and a place far, far away. Curiously enough most of them have actually never been there, but that is another story.

Standing in line at immigrations and customs usually puts a little damper on those magic moments up in the air, but what really pulls me back to reality is the drive home. Along the motorway the fairly green area close to the airport gives way to a mix of hideous buildings and billboards that mainly try to sell clothing and mobile phones. And right in the middle of those pretty advertisements stands a board with the picture of Johnny Allon. The background of the poster is a really unpleasant yellow, and this Johnny Allon - and I deeply aplogize to him, his family and friends - is just so ugly that I always give a little start whenever that billboard comes into sight.

     

 When I first saw the guy I took him for some sleazy TV Evangelist and I wondered how someone with such ungainly features and weird hairdo could ever to hope win people over and extract any money from them. In the meantime I have learned that he is a has-been musician who is still active as a TV presenter – which still does not explain why the ugly board is up and who allowed this blight on the landscape.

So which side wins? Looking at the two pictures again I decide to go for the panoramic skyline and the positive outlook on life. And next time I drive to the airport I will do my best to look the other way. 

It's never just a train ride

A trip in the underground or the TBA trains of Buenos Aires is not just a ride from A to B. No, it also gives you the chance to do your shopping, listen to the sad story of less fortunate habitants of Buenos Aires and support them with a few Pesos, or enjoy the concert by one of the buskers that use the train carriages as a stage … and afterwards support him with a few Pesos or even buy his CD.

The shopping goods on offer are an eclectic mix. The travelling hawkers sell socks, cookies, pens that glow in the dark, handbags, toys, street maps, batteries, phone covers, computer cables … and everything at a bargain price. Or so it seems. But what I really like about the whole setup is how the hawkers promote their wares with a certain irresistible flair that had even me thinking about taking a closer look more than once.

The beggars on the trains are also quite different from the ones in Germany. They do not simply walk through, look at you pleadingly with an outstretched hand and mumble something about spare change. No, they raise their voice and tell the whole carriage the details of their misfortune, asking for some money to support their family, pay the hospital bill after their tragic accident, buy food for the children they are tagging along or to be able to afford their HIV medication. And while I almost never see anyone in Germany give something, here in Buenos Aires it is very common for people to reach for their wallet and hand over at least some coins.

The musical entertainment during the train rides covers a variety of styles, including guitar-strumming troubadours, panpipe-playing indios, acoustic singers and entire bands with bandeons, harmonicas and amplifiers. But what really took the biscuit was the guy I came across yesterday on my last ride from Nuñez to Martinez before the move to the new office who was schlepping around a harp. Yes, you read correctly: a harp! It wasn’t one of those huge concert harps, mind you, or the artist wouldn’t have been able to get it through the doors of the train, but it was taller than most of the passengers, didn’t sound particularly ethereal and wouldn’t have been my instrument of choice as a busker.

Well, from next week on, I will head in another direction on my way to the office. I haven’t figured out the public transport connection yet, but I won’t be taking the train anymore. Too bad I didn’t stock up on cheap socks and pens that glow in the dark when I had the chance.