The Road Trip Part 1: Wide Open Spaces

Preparation was at best lacklustre, we had heard that the Route 40 south was closed somewhere so decided to go 1000 km east along the coast via Puerto Madryn, then back west to Calafate. Simple really. We popped into Hertz and said we wanted a car for two weeks and decided that we would probably need to get some food or something. And that was it. We returned to playing pool and talking about how great our trip South would be. No real need for thought on such trivial things as accommodation, we'd find them.

The day came and we all awoke late, we ran down to pick up the car, threw our bags in and we were off down Route 40 for a while to see if we could get on the Old Patagonian Express. The landscape changed from green, rich mountain valleys complexly encircling crystal blue lakes to arid, windy and lifeless deserts where the die straight road stretched out towards the horizion. This is the ever changing nature of route 40, a road running parallel to then Andes, the spine that separates Argentina and Chile. We arrived in Esquel as the sun dipped behind the mountains to find the town deserted and closed. Towns are massively spread out in Southern Argentina and it was unlikely that the next would be any better. We headed to the bus station to find out whether there was anywhere to stay only to bump into all three of the only three people who spoke english in the town. They, in turn, explained that the volcano that had exploded 30km west has cleared the town of tourists and that we were the first tourists they had seen since the eruption 6 weeks prior. One of them called a friend who happily offered to reopen her cabins for us for the night.

The next day we aquired a map for the eastern route from Esquel to Puerto Madryn. As Andy had done the 4 hour drive yesterday I had decided to do as much of the 8 hours east as I could and despite never driving a left hand drive car before, and having to relearn, I was happily cruising through the next string of ever changing landscapes. To begin the journey ran through the arid Gaucho-landscape that had touchened it's infamous cowboys with its freezing winds and overwhelming aridity. Around what seemed like the next corner we found ourself climbing to heights that had frozen and whitened the hills that we travelled over. When we descended from the hills, the landscape almost suddenly became orange and red, cut by great canyons with snaking rivers. At one point the road climbed halfway up a lone hill overlooking the canyon clad world we were driving through. We pulled over and climbed to the top ledge silently marvelling at what stretched out in front of us. The final section of the journey returned to being flat, arid, treeless and generally unattractive, however the myriads of roadrunners that ran alongside the car kept us in good spirits.

One other aspect of the journey which has kept us in high spirits is the ipod to radio connector and limitless songs that we have on our ipods. This has meant that much of our journey has been accompanied by Led Zeppelin, The Jackson Five, The Beatles, Radiohead and countless other bands. Notably when driving along the bumpy dirt road to Calafate the Sigur Ros album made us feel like we were in an episode of Planet Earth.

Being the overcompetitive male that I am, when starting to feel Ill after around five hours of driving I decided to not say anything and power through. By the time we had arrived at Puerto Madryn, on the coast, I felt so ill that I went straight to bed without any kind of food, shivering and sweating throughout the night. The next morning I felt shit. I'd clearly acquired a cold and I just wanted to turn over and snooze on through to the next day. This hadn't been helped by the creepy dude below me making noises of satisfaction below me and then spent rest of the night snorgling (snore-gurgling) loudly. But today was the day we were visiting the Peninsula Valdes; to quote the guidebook stated that "nothing can prepare you for the wildlife you will encounter along its ragged coastline". It was right. Nothing could prepare us for the fact that we encountered almost literally nothing. It was supposed to be the middle of Whale basking season, however the water was so choppy and the wind was so high that we couldn't see anything from the coast and all of the boats were cancelled. We returned to the hostel beaten and windswept. After the Old Patagonian Express being cancelled and the lack of any wildlife, we were starting to think that lady luck was against us.

The next day we had a rather long but uneventful 9 hour drive to Puerto San Julian, and after swinging by the tourist office bagged ourself an amazing little cabin overlooking a lake. Furthermore, rock paper scissors fell my way and I managed to get the room with a massive soft double bed! We watched Die Hard 2 and retired for an early night. The final day on our downward tragectory was to take the gravel track (most roads is Argentina aren't paved) towards El Calefate, known for it's proximity to one of the most spectaculor glaciers in the world. The road itself was about 200km, and was worse than any road that I have, and probably wilł ever, encounter in the UK. There were potholes, rocks and countless stones on a mudpath that dipped, rose and twisted. Senorita, the name of our stoic little Chevvy Corsa, took it all in her stride in spite of being caked in mud and being battered by rocks and chunks of ice on her underside for 5 hours straight. We had arrived. People had their doubts but we had arrived on schedule, in good spirits and ready to see some glaciers.