You wake up and think to yourself well, here I am in Ushuaia (oos-y-ya in Spanish there is no “h”)…and slowly you remember that even so you have to get up and get on with the day.
If there were any doubt about the course of action there’s always Rusty to remind you it’s time to push back the covers and face the frigid air. And Rusty loved our first campsite outside the city. We went there after our first choice did not work out thanks to an aggressive campground dog that took a dislike to him but he made up for that scare by enjoying the campground next to the train station. We gave up hot showers to keep him happy.
It’s a steam train tourist attraction and travels five miles into the national park. The comfortable two hour ride in a heated carriage with lunch served costs $140 each with a further $45 approximately to enter the national park. It can’t be that good can it?
Rusty enjoyed this camp. There was lots of activity to watch as campers from all over the world came and went.
The closer it got to Christmas the fuller it got. The French overlanders were absent but they gathered downtown on the waterfront.
These were Germans in expedition trucks, Brazilians in vans, an Australian, an English couple and a bunch of assorted Argentines touring their own country.
Brazil used to build air cooled Volkswagen and youngsters still enjoying using the vans as campers.
Elton and Sol tried getting us drunk on a mixture of vermouth and whiskey which is surprisingly not too sweet. I had to take a nap but they invited us to see them in their home in Porto Alegre in Brazil which we plan to do when we go north. You go north to escape winter down here so we expect to be there in April.
Americans! Blake an experienced South American traveler had lots of good advice about Brazil. He’s in a big older Ram diesel truck with a large camper shell. Colin and Sarah from Oregon are in a Ford 150 with the pop top shell and two young boys who are thriving on the road. They were off trying to induce Rusty to chase stick with no luck.
He came to us with a stuffed monkey from his foster home but after a few weeks he didn’t need it any more to reassure him. And he has no interest in party tricks.
I was lounging in bed reading and he came up to join me after his first patrol of the day outside.
We spent three nights in this campground, an abandoned municipal facility, known to overlanders as “the train station,” before we retreated to our apartment downtown.
Paul and Andrea in their Sprinter box van caught up to us from our last encounter in Arequipa Peru. Their daughter is having a grandchild so they plan to ship home to Germany in a few weeks.
Their dog died in Mexico freaked out by fireworks and it worked itself into such a state it died. She is still mourning Mango and gets her therapy from Rusty.
We are more than 3,000 kilometers from Buenos Aires the capital. That’s 2,000 miles in old money.
Snow capped peaks are picturesque but they give you an idea of the actual temperatures here. We were aching for a hot shower after three days with no intention of standing around outside with a solar shower.
Argentina does not take care of its roads like Chile does. The national highway turns to dirt at the edge of the city.
That was a fun stop. Up next: apartment dwelling downtown.
