Buenos Aires and Ushuaia

Buenos Aires

My 20 hours or so in Buenos Aires was no more than a glorified stopover, but I managed to pack in a lot in that time. Yet another sleepy late night landing, with dinner still to eat, meant I forked out for a direct taxi to my hostel, and upgraded to a private room when I got there. In a couple of days I was going to be sharing an Antarctic ship cabin with two other random guys, so some alone time beforehand justified the expense.

My hostel was right in the middle of the San Telmo district, a bohemian area hopping with bars, plazas, and tango. After quickly checking in, I strolled out at 10pm, navigating the easy grid system of streets to the Argentinian asado (barbecue steak) place one of the hostel staff recommended. I failed in finding it, but I wasn't short for other options that late at night. I settled for a brewpub, and had a delicious brewed on premise IPA along with a burger. I had heard that Buenos Aires was quite similar to a modern European city, and so far this was proving true, not that I minded as I took another sip.

By the time I left the place it was close to midnight, and I went for a late wander through the colonial building lined streets, coming across a little plaza where a live tango show was on. Even though the show was for the restaurant diners surrounding the plaza al fresco, I was able to find a decent viewing point, and came to the conclusion that tango is about as far from Irish dancing as you can get. "Dancing is a vertical projection of a horizontal desire" is an Oscar Wilde quote that my mother framed and put on my old bedroom back home, a quote that resonated in my head as I watched the pair twist and contort across the plaza. It had been two hours, but I was already impressed with Buenos Aires.

I used my good coffee finding skills to the full the next morning, zoning in on the covered San Telmo market, where the little stand in the centre served me the best flat white I had had in the whole continent. This provided the fuel for a good solid day of walking, strolling around many of Buenos Aires' European streets, an early highlight being the tomb of Jose San Martín in the city's main cathedral. San Martín was Argentina, Chile and Peru’s version of Simón Bolívar, playing a leading part in the liberation of these countries from the Spanish, as Bolívar did with the more northern ones.

A long walk north in the hot sun took me past the imposing and grand Teatro Colón, all the way to another theatre, El Ateneo Grand Splendid. This one had been converted into a bookshop. I lingered there longer than I should have with my flight to Ushuaia fast approaching, but I didn't care as this was probably the coolest bookshop I had ever been to, with a cafe located in the stage and books on display in all the places where the audience used to sit, including the balconies.

As had become standard for this trip, by now I was leaving it tight time-wise to make my evening flight. Uber failed me yet again when I tried to order one from the hostel, and with no cash on me, I had to make a mad dash to an ATM before ordering a taxi to the local domestic airport. Luckily traffic was not too bad.

More pictures from Buenos Aires

Ushuaia

After a quick three and a half hour flight, with a couple of rollercoaster-style drops on approach, I arrived in another world in the small city of Ushuaia, the most southerly city in the world, surrounded by snow-speckled mountains. Looking at a map, the location does feel like the "end of the world" as many pf the tourist brochures call it. Ushuaia is no further south of the equator than Belfast is north of it, and it was summer, so the temperature was a very comfortable 17 degrees leaving the tinny airport.

The best words I can use to describe Ushuaia are sleepy, spectacular and expensive. Surrounded by peaks, it's location gives it a thrilling frontier feel, but because it’s so difficult to transport anything here, everything is more expensive than other parts of Argentina. I went shopping for waterproof pant covers, and the cheapest pair I could find was €50. That’s the same as five nights in a hostel in Colombia - ouch. My quaint family guesthouse accommodation, where I was staying in the eldest son’s old bedroom, was in the same price range. For South America, this was crazy money.

Luckily I had but a single day and a bit there. On my full day I scrambled around to get some US dollars and pay a quick visit to the Antarctica museum (fun fact: Antarctica should have been called Australia, which means “most southerly land", but when they discovered Australia they thought they’d never find more land further south).

Armed with the ship’s official currency and some background knowledge, I was all set to do what I came here to do - board my transport to travel all the way south.

More picture from Ushuaia