Bottom of the World, Ushuaia, Argentina

For a place called Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire), it sure was cold.  When I disembarked the bus, my legs stiff and back tight after a 30 hour ride, I was kindly greeted by a blast of wintry air that lifted the previous storm’s white powder into my face.  The hour was late and the night’s sky glittered with the shining of the millions of stars overhead.  I was scheduled to meet my friend Carla at the bus stop but after running three hours late due to delays at border crossings (there are four in order to reach the Argentinean Tierra del Fuego), she was nowhere to be seen in the empty parking lot.  With little desire to let the wind slash at my face any longer I shouldered my bags and made for the main road in search of an internet café.  One was not difficult to find.  Even in the world’s southernmost city, roughly 1,000 kilometers from Antarctica, the modern world’s arms still manage to extend their reach. 

Close to the Port of Ushuaia

The city of Ushuaia was first discovered by Captain Robert Fitzroy of the British Navy while surveying Tierra del Fuego in 1833 on the HMS Beagle; the land originally belonged to the Yámana natives who are thought to have arrived to the land of fire roughly 10,000 years ago.  Soon after the expedition, British missionaries became to set up shop and are credited with first using the name Ushuaia in reports back to The South American Missionary Society, thus giving the city on the Beagle Channel its modern name.  More and more missionaries flooded into the small colony and by 1872 the first European birth was recorded.  Despite the British missionaries setting up the modern town though, the Chilean and Argentineans argued back and forth over the Tierra del Fuego landmass until they reached an agreement in 1881 which split the land among the two countries.  The accord, known as the “Boundary Treaty of 1881,” awarded the Argentineans with Ushuaia, which at the time was also being formed up to be a penal colony modeled after the one in Tasmania, Australia.  The prison did not receive its first inmates till 1896 though and closed soon after the end of the Second World War.  The port town continued to flourish in the late 19^th century and in 1904 the Argentineans recognized the town as the capital of the Argentinean Tierra del Fuego. 

Carla. The Fearless Gringo Guide

I touched base with Carla using the almighty power of the web and it was not long till I spotted her bounding down the street over slick patches of ice and around snow mounds that were pushed up onto street curbs; her curly brown hair whisking amongst her face in the perpetual breeze.  I first met Carla while in Argentina back in December as she led me around the Patagonian wilderness as my mountain guide with a group of other hopeless gringos.  Knowing my ability to wander aimlessly, Carla showed me to a cozy hostel not far from the town center where we dropped my bags and made off to a local Irish bar called the Dublin.  A destination much appreciated by locals and tourists alike.  Their Red Beagle Bear is delicious. 

Most travelers come to Ushuaia for just a couple of days to ski the snowcapped mountains of hike in the vast national parks.  My first visit to Ushuaia was just like that.  This time, however, I got to see the municipality in a much more intimate, local way. 

A couple days into my stay in the sleepy mountain town, Carla moved into her new apartment and allowed me to couch surf in her kitchen/guest room for the remainder of my time.  While residing with Carla and visiting with her friends I got to hear the local’s opinions on a wide range of topics from everything about Argentinean politics and pop culture to the cluelessness of foreigners who happen to find their way into the town.  It is not just Americans by the way, you brash Europeans who read this.  The town’s economy is an interesting mismatch of bustling port town and ecotourism.  I made sure to indulge in some of the ecotourism between sipping mates, the Argentineans version of hanging around sipping coffees, and hanging out with Carla down at the port.

More of the Port of Ushuaia

The Les Eclaireurs Lighthouse as dusk approaches

I booked a boat tour on the Beagle Channel with Carla’s company, Patagonia Explorer, where we did a grand loop of the channel as she announced to the other tour members some of the history about the channel.  During the ride we passed the famous brick built Les Eclaireurs lighthouse (“The Enlighteners” or “The Scouts” in French) which is sometimes called the Faro del fin del mundo (Lighthouse at the end of the world).  Not to be confused with the San Juan de Salvamento lighthouse made famous by Jules Verne which is further east on the Isla de los Estados.  We also sailed close up to a tiny island of seals and fur seals.  Our boat approaching close enough to smell their heady BO and listen in to them bark and gurgle at one another…or us.  As we sailed back to the port after a few hours on the water we watched the sun slip behind the mountains that encircle the bay, casting the town in long dark shadows.

Another afternoon Carla and I piled into the back of one of Carla’s mother’s friend’s car next to sets of skis.  To be frank, this horrified me.  I have never skied before in my life and have little desire to do so.  Something about falling on my ass onto hard packed snow for hours just does not do it for me.  I kept my mouth shut though and accepted the fact that I would not be sitting down without grimacing for the next few days.  Much to my surprise and delight, when we arrived at a group of log lodgings nestled in a valley amid fog covered mountains Carla’s acquaintances took off with the skis, as the two of us found our way into a warm cabin surrounded by dog kennels and houses. 

From inside the cabin, while huddling close to an iron wood stove on top of couches covered by animal pelts, we observed muscular huskies bound up all over their little homes and run circles around them; tangling themselves in their chains as they howled and yelped at each other.  There must have been close to 60 of the brawny beasts.

Explanation needed?

All around the wooden cabin walls there were grand trophies and blue ribbons hanging next to pictures of grizzled looking men leaning on large sleds that were tethered by dogs.  We warmed ourselves up and then walked out in the midst of the energetic animals.  It was not too difficult of a choice at this point to ride shotgun in a champion’s dogsled, as was being offered to us. 

We swaddled ourselves up in a wool blanket and sat down in the front of the sled and at the call of “Va!” the dogs bolted like a locomotive, kicking up snow and charging us into a light rain.  We raced on top of three feet of snow as the dogs seemed to pull us without problem, picking up speed down hills and slowing around turns.  At one point the young driver of 22-years-old, who had been competing in races since he was 13, stopped the sled and offered us a chance to stand in the back.  This was an experience that was truly exhilarating. 

Granted, the dogs knew the path and as far as steering the sled there was really little need but, ducking under branches as they whizzed overhead through tiny outcroppings of trees and over a frozen lake pulled by 12 dogs bred for speed is an experience hard to mount.  Carla and I switched after a bit of time and I have never seen a person revert back to a child as fast as she did that day.  Who can blame her though, those dogs were awesome.

Eventually though, my week in Ushuaia came to an abrupt end and I departed Carla’s apartment early in the morning to walk down abandoned streets as the wind whispered through alleys, avoiding black ice while admiring the white tipped mountains one last time.  The bus back north arrived promptly on time at 5 in the morning to take myself and two other passengers back north, away from the arctic winds as I mentally prepared myself for the next 30 hours of bumpy road and extensive border crossings.