The Carrentera Austral, the prestige object of former dictator Pinochet, reaches endless towards the horizon.
Days of rain and cold are followed by bright blue skies with sun, at night the beauty of the new moon and starry sky. The small settlements seem to have fallen of the earth and the supermarkets are not bigger than a counter from behind which the people serve you and hand you what you ask. Some villages are not more than a small hotel that is also a shop, petrol station and dwelling house. It's a heavy day for the motorbike with many wholes, water and sand. The chain cracks and something is leaking but it is beautiful to drive here and every time there's a new curve that shows snow covered mountain tops, an ostrich running away, a fox or a lama. The road leads eventually all the way to Villa O'Higgens, an administrative post near the Argentinean border. There is a little Pont
that can take you to the other side but no one can guarantee me that there is a path to the neighboring country, what would mean another illegal crossing.
The legal crossing through the mountains over the Roballo pass is really dazzling.The wind chafes and blows through your bones. The enormous beauty of this area stills me.
The rhythm of wind, rain, sun, day and night prove the enormous heartbeat of Pacha Mamma Grande and makes me realize that we also are children of Mother Nature. One whisk of her big hands can wipe everything of her face and underline our mortality. There's nothing we can change about her urge to survive. Mother Nature follows her own way!
In the morning I'm awoken by sniffling horses they are startled when the early morning sun makes me sneeze.
They trot away with waving manes, feeling no cold. Beautiful animals
those look so different in the open air than saddled and forced in directions by human hands.
On the way I meet my German
friends again but decide to continue alone.
Going to the south, the Andes gets narrower and lower but not less spectacular. Enormous ice fields are the wombs of many glaciers of which the Porito Moreno
is one of the biggest. I look surprised at one of the few growing ice rivers of our earth. The 60 meters high and many kilometers wide monster ends in Lago Argentina. It floats forward a few meters a day and grumbles and cracks because of the enormous pressure that sometimes makes colossal ice blocks pitch down with a loud noise. Whisky on the rocks still has a special meaning here...
The Carrentera Austral changes on Argentinean side into Carrentera Quarenta (40) and mainly runs over the pampas of Patagonia, harassed by the powerful summer winds that I too experience. The beauty of this desolate land has a special atmosphere and I hum songs of Elvis Presley and Bennie Nijman.
In El Chaitan, near Cerro Fitz Roy,
the hard to climb mountain that was only conquered in 1975 by 3 Italians, I am forced to wait because of the heavy weather when it is storming with 10 Beaufort and heavy showers. This weather changes the road into one big puddle of mud that is a disaster for my bike and me. The Yamaha wants to do only thing and that is tumble upside down, what eventually happens.
I curse Newton with his invention and end up under the bike and twist my ankle and knee. The fall looks like the one that happened to me in Pakistan in '96 after which I couldn't walk for 3 weeks. Fortunately this time I land in the mud and I can free myself. Sweat runs down my back but I'm only pushing the bike forward. Fortunately an Argentinean passes and he is not afraid to step into the mud with his good shoes and help me. The next 40 kilometers take two and a half hours and we look terrible.
But the sun is shining and I still have sardines and spinach in a can. The wide pampas with its endless horizon is joining me at my table in this enormous "restaurant".
On the 30 of April the ferry leaves the Chilean Punta Arenas to cross to Tierra del Fuego. With its lowering clouds and winds, the street of Magellan looks angry and the ship rolls heavily during the 2-hour crossing. I stay outside because usually my stomach protests during a trip like this but fortunately it only gives me a headache this time.
During the afternoon I try to cover the 460 kilometers to Ushuaia but it's impossible because the weather is deteriorating. The weather this island is known for comes without compassion. I drive on with the hand and foot heating on high. The rain turns to snow and the asphalt changes into gravel with wholes. The darkness chases away the last daylight and I can't find a place to sleep anywhere. When I finally decide to go camping, suddenly a sign of an Inn shows up.
Everything seems closed till suddenly a door opens and an Argentinean looks surprised at a soaking wet Dutchman. He lets me park my bike under a shed and invites me in. The place is very luxurious and actually closed but that doesn't matter. Wood is put on the fire and coffee is made. With chattering teeth and leaving a track of water and mud, I get a room, the bridal suite that's heated.
A really huge hostess comes to take a look and observes me from head to toes and disappears to the kitchen. Without further questions, within 5 minutes there is bread, jam, olives and cheese. After that soup and more bread and my tummy starts to fill up, not knowing that the main course is still in the oven! Suddenly a piece of salmon is served, so big it looks like a piece of a whale!
The mother is amused and joins me while I just keep on eating. The desert is fruit on juice, sweet things and lots of coffee. With my bum in front of the stove, my head starts to look like the lighthouse of Cape Horn. Later I take a shower and I lie myself down between the fluffy blankets, waiting for the bride...
In the early morning, after a massive breakfast that could feed half of Ethiopia, I leave for the last 100 kilometers to Ushuaia. The quiet weather looks a lot friendlier, with breaking skies, sunbeams and whispering birds. The beauty of this rugged country of Tierra del Fuego passes me by this morning. The road climbs to a 500 meters high pass but the frost limit lies on 300 meters and everything changes into an ice-rink.
I expect to pass a stand selling hot chocolate and cakes any minute, with music coming out of those big gray speakers. Because of the curves the motorbike slides every way I don't want it to. I have to change the tire pressure to a ½ atmosphere and as quiet as a mouse I cover the next 15 kilometers, feeling like I have no control what so ever.
I sweat icicles but the gods are with me this time and after the road descends till under 300 meters, I pump up the tires again and can enjoy the last kilometers to the destination but not the end of this journey.
Over the last hill lies suddenly Ushuaia, the world's most southern city.
Fin del Mundo, end of the world
(not considering the Antarctic for convenience's sake). A lively city with 40.000 inhabitants, and destination of many land, sea and air travelers.
The weather is beautiful and I make a sightseeing flight
over the Beagle Canal
with on the other side Chile and in the distance Cape Horn and the Antarctic. A sailing voyage
is not possible anymore because of the late season, but it's a good reason to come back here in the future.
That will probably not be on motorbike...
On the 2nd of may, King Winter makes his entrance and drops 10 centimeters of snow on us and I don't even like to think about how to get back over the pass. With a "silent night, holy night feeling" I look outside
and feel like going out to buy a Christmas tree and Christmas decorations.
Wishing you a merry Christmas from Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina....