Saturday, December 28, 2019

Patagonian New Year Day 2&3 - I Am In Patagonia!

I woke up too early for how late I had fallen asleep.  This was compounded by a pounding headache.
I had seen a Trump resort only a couple miles from my hotel on Google Maps, and wanted to walk to it, just to see it.  But it wasn't THE resort and between the snotty weather, unwalkable area and bonkers traffic, it was prudent not to.  In a way, I DID see the Trump resort - or maybe all of them since Miami seems to be where backwater poverty and ostentatious displays of wealth collide.  I also thought about seeing if I could find a white Ferrari Testarossa to rent and drive around fighting vice crime with a Colt Delta Elite.  Also imprudent.  And besides, the 1980's were 30 years ago (seriously!)...

I walked down to my gratis breakfast (Thanks Sis-in-Law!) and it was probably one of the best hotel breakfasts I've ever had.  It was also pretty crowded.  I ended up sitting next to a German couple on my fight, a whole Scandinavian family to my left.  There was some Russian right behind me and at least two Asian families (maybe Indian and Sri Lankan?).  So I guess it was a very Continental breakfast indeed!

I sat around the hotel room as long as I could before packing up and shuttling to the airport.  At first, the airport was (again) nearly empty, but it filled up through the afternoon as most of the international flights left later in the day.  By mid afternoon, I was a little sick of people - or maybe I should say I was a little sick of the combination of people and cell phones.    Phone calls?  Sure - we all do them.  But 90% of the people were using speakerphone...

Older Sis texted me and let me know that her check-in got confused with Younger Sis (who was still on a plane en route to Miami and on a different flight out).  This is the horrors of air travel realized.  Given that my two sisters' names are different, it is much easier to imagine this happening if two very common names were checking in with the same airline.  This was sorted out and the world wouldn't end if something did get mixed up.

I continued people-watching for the very long wait for the flight.  It was funny to watch the various airlines - especially the European ones - configure the queue to their own rigid way.  This was especially true of the German airlines.

I finished In Patagonia and had a few insights from it:
  • Patagonia is the farthest place to which man walked from his origins.  After thinking about this, I couldn't really suggest any other alternative assuming the collective truth about human's origin being in Africa is correct.  Given that Pangea is assumed to have broken up over 150 million years ago, and the oldest human(oids) are 2-3 million years ago, the interpretations of the data would have to be wildly incorrect for how people got to Patagonia.  Although one nut-job that Mr. Chatwin talks about in his book did suggest that humans developed separately in South America.  Unlikely, but there are primates in Central and South America...
  • The name "Patagonia" is thought to have originated from Magellan's 1520 exploration of the region, where he called the inhabitants "Patagons" - assumed to be giants.  However, a text which predates Magellan's exploration of the area talks about a being called a Grand Patagon - an "ill-favoured people, who eat raw flesh and wear skins."  They have "the head of a dog and the feet of a hart, but gifted with human understanding and amorous of women."  Sounds lovely!  There is evidence that Magellan had this Greek text on his voyage, so he may have borrowed from this - possibly if he heard foreign sounds since the Grand Patagon "roars so dreadfully that it would have terrified the very stoutest heart."
  • Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire) was named by Magellen when he saw the smoke from the Native's fires.  He originally called it Tierra del Humo (Land of Smoke), but there is no smoke without fire...  Vaping hadn't been invented yet (golly what a lovely time that must have been).
Finally it was time to board the flight to Santiago.  This was to run overnight and I can almost never sleep on planes.  I had paid for extra foot room - which was totally worth it.  It was even more worth it when the stewardess pointed out that there were unused rows in the extra-foot-room areas.  I ended up with a whole row to myself.
It was a stupendous flight.  The food was pretty good - I wouldn't run to it if it was a restaurant, but it was quite good.  With a row to myself, I was able to sleep a little bit.  And while breakfast in the morning wasn't great, it wasn't too bad.  The flight wasn't quite as good for Old Sis, but we both got off the plan in decent spirits.

As the plane descended into Santiago, the sunrise to the east was amazing - highlighting the mountains with the city lights sparkling closer to the airport.

Old Sis and I got off the plane.  The airport was a bit hard to get through and Old Sis had checked one bag adding complication.  But after multiple false starts we headed to our gate for the flight to Balmaceda.  It was interesting to see cars that we don't get in the United States, including MGs!  (even if Geelyized)

At this time we met up with Young Sis even though she was on a different flight.  We caught up for a bit before boarding the plane.
Cultural differences were evident as flight crews greeted by kissing (female and male/female - males shook hands and patted each other on the back).  Experiencing these small differences is one of the good parts of travel.
The plane was packed making it uncomfortable.  And even though I was in a bulkhead row, that meant I didn't have room for my bag.  I tried to doze, but I think the only thing that kept me going was nearing our final destination of Patagonia!

The scenery changed as we headed south.  The clear skies made the amazing topography of Chile evident.  Mountains, large plains, rivers, dry waddies, glaciers - I was glad I had a window seat.

And we landed in the verdant valley that Balmaceda is in.  

"But just as flying shrinks all sense of the distance, so to does it sharpen the contrast." - Tony Horwitz

And that has never been more true for me.  Leaving winter Ohio to head to Miami.  Staying in a really nice hotel (by my standards anyway).  Jetting off to South America.  Heading into the unfamiliar so unfamiliar that in a sleep deprived state I have to wonder if I'm still alive, it is a big amazing world.

The Patagonia we landed in was utterly foreign but strangely familiar at the same time.  It was definitely a totally new world for me, but reminded me a little of Wyoming at the same time.  It was also odd that the weather was colder in summer Patagonia than winter in the Ohio I left (of course the heat wave in Ohio was quite unusual).

I met Nephew in the baggage area and we talked while Old Sis and Young Sis made their way from their respective planes.  We met with Abi in the parking lot before heading out to Puerto Rio Tranquilo.  At first the road was a nice paved road before turning to gravel and rough gravel at that.  The views for the several-hour ride south were nothing short of amazing.

We stopped at one overlook for lunch.  I want to take my a motorcycle on this road!

Abi took us on a slight scenic detour which was a road barely more than a 2-track.  This also involved crossing one of the scariest bridges I've seen.  It reminded me of something like the bridge in the final scene of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom - except there wasn't a bald Indian Priest/Witch Doctor coming after us.  We did have to fold in the mirrors to even fit - Seriously!

Back on the "main" road the terrain changed but was always amazing.  There were several construction zones, but eventually we made it to PRT.  We stopped at our Cabana and Nephew and I went to talk to the owners.  Their WiFi was down and while that wasn't a total deal-killer, it did prompt us to look for other options.  Nephew seemed to enjoy going to many of the PRT cabanas looking for lodging that would work for us.  Eventually we found a place that would work - even if the WiFi barely worked inside the cabana.  At least we had access to it.  The cabana seemed a little nicer and larger as well.  Plus, it ended up being cheaper.

Having Nephew as a translator was invaluable.  His Chilean Spanish was really good and seemed to build rapport with the already friendly people.  It is probably healthy for me to occasionally feel like the bumbling foreigner; this should build perspective for use back home - something really needed from time to time.

We changed plans about 384 times as we decided what to do.  This was a bit painful to a planner like myself, but did seem to be the Chilean way.  Eventually we settled on a plan before heading to a restaurant to eat - at which time we changed the plan another 298 times...

Back at the cabana, we unpacked and got ready for the morning.  This is an amazing start, and I can't believe I'm here.

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