Its 5 a.m. and middle-of-the-night black outside. Somehow, I wake up. I am tucked inside my white, silk, sleep-sheet cuddled inside my emerald green and black, good to minus 7 centigrade, down, sleeping bag. Incredulously, I am very comfortable, and its hard to think about getting up. But, the day has begun. I lie for an extra 5 minutes, and then, slowly slide myself out of my warm cocoon. I fold my sleeping bag in half, and roll it up tightly so that it squeezes into its travel sac; I open the valve of my self-inflating sleep mattress, fold it in half and roll it up too so that it also fits back into its travel sac. Then I collect my wash bag and towel from the floor of the tent, struggle into my Reebok sandals, unzip the tent, grab the torch and stumble through the sandy paths of the Puerto Madryn campsite to the loos. On the way, I meet another torch coming towards me, and murmur sleepily at the unidentified person behind it as we pass. In the washrooms, I wash my face in icy cold water, brush my teeth with bottled mineral water, and dress. By the time I get back to the tent, Ray is up and has rolled his sleep gear up too. I put it in the white sack meant for an unfolded sleeping bag, and haul my daypack and pillow over to our locker in the Truck. Back to the tent, and working in comfortable silence Ray and I take down our tent "Mojo"; roll it back into its travel cover, and load it into one of the outside lockers in the Truck. This morning, neither of us are in Cook Group or Truck Gropu, so have no assigned tasks and are free to swill back a cup of cofee and munch on cereal, toast, or on other occasions, french bread, pancakes, or some egg dish. If we were in Cook or Truck Group we would have had to be up half an hour earlier and help to prepare breakfast and then clean up afterwards. Breakfast lasts between 6 and 6:30 a.m., then all cooking gear, and cook tent, if its been raining, is packed back into the various lockers and containers in and around the Truck ready for departure at 7:00 a.m.
We have some 2000 km to cover to reach Ushuaia, so today is a minimum of 12 hours of driving time. We try not to drink too much water so we don't need to make too many loo stops, but generally Tony stops every 2 to 2.5 hours, and for an hour while we make and eat lunch. This could be anything from tuna sandwiches, to pasta salad and fruit and could be eaten anywhere along the side of the road, at a gas station, or some other off road site.
Driving through this northern part of Patagonia, gas stations and loos are hard to find, and the land is flat for miles and miles - so Tony has a hard job finding a suitable spot when we ring our Truck buzzer to indicate to him in the cab that we need a loo-stop. At one stop, he finds a "mound" of road dirt left behind by the road workers so that the ladies on the Truck can feel some privacy as they squat on the side of the mound facing away from the Truck - remember the start of the Niagara half marathon if you have run it and you will probably have a good picture of what most of our loo stops are like! Fortunately the road is long and flat and you can see oncoming vehicles - of which there are surprisingly many for the remoteness of the area - a long way back.
When we first set of, Charli tries hard to keep us awake - this lasts maybe 15 minutes - then each of us disappears into our own space - some read - some listen to their I-pod, some write - most sleep. Later in the day, some may play Uno, or Gin Rummy. Now that we are further south and it is cooler, sleeping bags and blankets are pulled out to wrap up in. Seven of our group opted to miss this part of the journey and fly to Ushuaia, so there is more room in the Truck to stretch out in - which is nice. On these long journeys it seems that we are drugged, and we all wonder how we can sleep so much and so long - then still sleep at night. I think it is nature's way of allowing us to cope with the inactivity and monotonousness of the journey. It is a time for self reflection and for breaking down and rebuilding the pieces of our lives - or maybe we are all just imitating the flatness of the scenery around us.
Around 8:00 p.m. Tony starts to look for a place to camp. After one failed attempt to camp by the side of the road, Tony finds a road leading to a deserted beach just before Saint Julien where I believe Magellan wintered on his discovery voyage through the Magellan Straits. We arrive at sunset, and all whoop with joy when Tony pulls off onto a stretch of the beach sheltered from the gale force wind by a huge rocky cliff.
The group comes to life. We watch a beautiful Patagonian sunset, then tents are collected from the Truck, camp sites chosen, and tents expertly pitched in a minimum of time. Sleep gear is pulled out and beds are made up in minutes. Cook Group and Truck Group wash all the dishes, pots and pans, cutlery, etc. in disinfectant, detergent, and rinse water, and get dinner on the go. We eat well on this fantasy journey, thoughts of calories and cholesterol left behind in our various homelands and our real lives. Tony hooks up lights, running off batteries in the Truck, music is turned up high - afterall, noone is around for miles and miles to hear. Tongues are set loose. Beer and wine flow and conversations are intense. Its like an outdoor, serve-yourself, dinner party with all of your best friends sitting around a warm fire, on stools, in a circle. Everyone gets along, no-one is left out. Confidences are exchanged, travel stories compared, and philosophies on life explored, discussed and adjusted.
As it is young Sam's 19th birthday, some of the group have organized punch - and a bottle of cheap whiskey for Sam - I am sure Sam will never forget waking up the next morning lying on the beach tucked up inside his sleeping bag under the southern-hemisphere stars and sinking moon!
We long to sit late3 into the night - and on other nights some do - but tomorrow there is another early start and a long day travelling. So when all the dishes are cleaned up, and the ambers on the fire cool down, one by one we follow the torchlight to our tents where we brush our teeth once again with our bottled water, find a black spot in the night for a loo, put our jammies on, and slide once more down into the snuggly depths of our sleeping bags, with only our noses left exposed to gauge the coldness of the star filled night.
We have some 2000 km to cover to reach Ushuaia, so today is a minimum of 12 hours of driving time. We try not to drink too much water so we don't need to make too many loo stops, but generally Tony stops every 2 to 2.5 hours, and for an hour while we make and eat lunch. This could be anything from tuna sandwiches, to pasta salad and fruit and could be eaten anywhere along the side of the road, at a gas station, or some other off road site.
Driving through this northern part of Patagonia, gas stations and loos are hard to find, and the land is flat for miles and miles - so Tony has a hard job finding a suitable spot when we ring our Truck buzzer to indicate to him in the cab that we need a loo-stop. At one stop, he finds a "mound" of road dirt left behind by the road workers so that the ladies on the Truck can feel some privacy as they squat on the side of the mound facing away from the Truck - remember the start of the Niagara half marathon if you have run it and you will probably have a good picture of what most of our loo stops are like! Fortunately the road is long and flat and you can see oncoming vehicles - of which there are surprisingly many for the remoteness of the area - a long way back.
When we first set of, Charli tries hard to keep us awake - this lasts maybe 15 minutes - then each of us disappears into our own space - some read - some listen to their I-pod, some write - most sleep. Later in the day, some may play Uno, or Gin Rummy. Now that we are further south and it is cooler, sleeping bags and blankets are pulled out to wrap up in. Seven of our group opted to miss this part of the journey and fly to Ushuaia, so there is more room in the Truck to stretch out in - which is nice. On these long journeys it seems that we are drugged, and we all wonder how we can sleep so much and so long - then still sleep at night. I think it is nature's way of allowing us to cope with the inactivity and monotonousness of the journey. It is a time for self reflection and for breaking down and rebuilding the pieces of our lives - or maybe we are all just imitating the flatness of the scenery around us.
Around 8:00 p.m. Tony starts to look for a place to camp. After one failed attempt to camp by the side of the road, Tony finds a road leading to a deserted beach just before Saint Julien where I believe Magellan wintered on his discovery voyage through the Magellan Straits. We arrive at sunset, and all whoop with joy when Tony pulls off onto a stretch of the beach sheltered from the gale force wind by a huge rocky cliff.
The group comes to life. We watch a beautiful Patagonian sunset, then tents are collected from the Truck, camp sites chosen, and tents expertly pitched in a minimum of time. Sleep gear is pulled out and beds are made up in minutes. Cook Group and Truck Group wash all the dishes, pots and pans, cutlery, etc. in disinfectant, detergent, and rinse water, and get dinner on the go. We eat well on this fantasy journey, thoughts of calories and cholesterol left behind in our various homelands and our real lives. Tony hooks up lights, running off batteries in the Truck, music is turned up high - afterall, noone is around for miles and miles to hear. Tongues are set loose. Beer and wine flow and conversations are intense. Its like an outdoor, serve-yourself, dinner party with all of your best friends sitting around a warm fire, on stools, in a circle. Everyone gets along, no-one is left out. Confidences are exchanged, travel stories compared, and philosophies on life explored, discussed and adjusted.
As it is young Sam's 19th birthday, some of the group have organized punch - and a bottle of cheap whiskey for Sam - I am sure Sam will never forget waking up the next morning lying on the beach tucked up inside his sleeping bag under the southern-hemisphere stars and sinking moon!
We long to sit late3 into the night - and on other nights some do - but tomorrow there is another early start and a long day travelling. So when all the dishes are cleaned up, and the ambers on the fire cool down, one by one we follow the torchlight to our tents where we brush our teeth once again with our bottled water, find a black spot in the night for a loo, put our jammies on, and slide once more down into the snuggly depths of our sleeping bags, with only our noses left exposed to gauge the coldness of the star filled night.
Note:
Images added onApril 9:
Ferry crossing
Truck on the beach for camping
Sunset on the beach camp
1 comment:
Ray and Liz
Keep up the travel log - it is very well written, and we feel like we are on the trip with you ( but without the visual highs and excitement of new discoveries you must be feeling so often.)
Comfortably at home
after a gteat two weeks
in San Miguel
Lloyd and Sherry
Toronto
Post a Comment