Amazing sights, but I must go...

I wake up too early. Two South Africans I met the day before join me for breakfast of toast, dulce de leche, marmalade and even a scoop of cereal.

The glacier is huge, booming and calving sometimes in dribbles and other times whole boulders of ice tumble into the ice clogged corner of the lake. Other, relatively rare times, whole sides of the glacier cleave off and collapse and everyone rushes to the fence, telephoto lensed cameras in hand. Its large and amazing, but hard for me to enjoy. I want a quiet corner without the bustle, the cooing and striking of poses, but that’s impossible.

I sit my butt down on a rock and eat and watch and wait and eat and get up whenever something promising happens glacierward, then fade back again, and repeat until it is time to board the bus again. We take the long ride back to El Calafate and I’m tired and realizing now that its time to make the longer than seems sane ride back to Buenos Aires. I walk town again, cook ravioli, read Moby Dick and turn in early.

El Calafate

Omar calls me through the bathroom door. My bus is not picking me up at the hostel, as I thought, but three blocks away and I have five minutes to get there. I take off running with two full and heavy packs, but I make it. Customs, this time, is relatively smooth since we are going to Argentina which is not as strict as Chile. El Calafate is a pleasant if not particularly notable town. I walk up the dirt road to a nice hostel and its finally warm again.


The main drag of town is as touristy as advertised but pleasant nevertheless with a boardwalk and chalet like facades. I eat my umpteenth mozzarella pizza and drink yet another Fanta, and find a bus ticket to the Perito Moreno Glacier the following day. I try to find a quiet corner of the hostel to read and relax. My trip back north is scheduled to begin in two days, but with the ticket office closed until Monday, this isn’t written in stone.