Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

Despite the large volume of beer consumed, I still woke at 6am, desperate for news from home. After a very quick (and quiet, I didn't want to wake Jim, who for once was sleeping in) shower, I grabbed my laptop and headed for the quiet area by the hotel reception where I could call home. I was surprised to find it quiet this morning, the hordes of French grannies that perpetually congregate in this area chattering loudly and disturbing the whole hotel absent. Settled in I called Tracy on skype and was told there was no news... Laura was still in the hospital on the labour ward but so far not a lot had happened and it was going to be several hours yet before the beans would make an appearance. So I went about the days activities with Laura at the forefront of my mind... Breakfast was first on the agenda and without the hordes of wrestling grannies attacking the buffet in a feeding frenzy last seen when the pyranhas discovered flesh for the first time, there was actually something to eat. A bowl of cereal to be precise, flushed down with fresh orange juice. I was surprised I wasn't more hungry, having skipped dinner last night, but my appetite remains dulled. Whilst I was finishing off my second bowl (ok, maybe my appetite hasn't really been dulled!), the coach appeared and we were off on our excursion. Out little party comprised Jeff, Aaron, Nick, Pertti, Simon, Ed, Late Guy (who had disappeared just before the coach arrived and so lived up to his name...) and me, the 8 of us joining a full coach on the trip to the port. The trip took us via several other hotels and then out of town the way we'd ridden the day before, and I'd love to describe the journey in great detail but I missed it as I fell asleep, waking only when the coach stopped at the other end. Here we disembarked and then paid yet another fee to enter the national park (another 60 pesos, around £12) and then went to find our boat. Moored up and already nearly full, the Neuvo Leon is a large catamaran, with seating for 70 or so on the lower deck and a similar number on the upper deck. As it was already packed, we found a couple of rows of seats in the middle and settled in.





It didn't take long before I was asleep again as we pulled out of the port and the annoying tour guide spoke gibberish in 3 different languages over the loud PA system. As she prattled on and I snoozed, we made our way along Lago Argentina to where there was a collection of icebergs that had become grounded at the head of one of the valleys. I don't think I've ever seen ice so blue in my life, the pictures for once capturing the colours accurately. And before you start thinking that this is one of those ice sculptures you see on posh hotels, it's not. It's shaped entirely by natural forces, mostly the wind, and there was a group of weird-shaped icebergs lined up along the shore, this one being my favourite as it reminded me of Stingray...





Nick, Ed and I had managed to get right to the prow of the boat, into the narrow bit stuck out front from where we got an excellent view of the icebergs up close. But this was a boat full of French geriatrics, and one old bat in particular took exception to us having the best view and sharpened her elbows before trying to push us overboard. I've never seen anyone quite so rude as she shoved and pushed in her attempt to squeeze into a space barely big enough for the 3 of us already occupying it. It was akin to the Christmas sales at woolies when I was little, only this time I'm bigger and with sore ribs. I think I may even have pushed back this time. Bloody tourists!

We stayed here for some time, whilst all the tourists on the boat filled their memory cards with photos of ice, before setting sail (if that's the correct term for a diesel-powered catamaran moving across a lake) once more. I went back inside and fell asleep. Our next stop was supposed to be the Upsalla glacier, but we couldn't get close to it as the icebergs created as it collapsed blocked the entire channel, another collection of weird shapes floating across the entire width of the channel. At least this time the ignorant French cow was nowhere to be seen (I think Ed may have thrown her overboard!), and I got a nice picture of me to prove I had been here...





If I look a little cold, that's because it was freezing. Unlike yesterday which had been clear and sunny, today it was overcast and snowing. As in a blizzard. So I didn't stay outside for too long, and went back into the warmth of the cabin and fell asleep. Whilst the boat stayed close to the icebergs until the captain felt the passengers had had enough and we chuggged back up the lake to the final view-point, at the head of the Porito Moreno glacier, the one we'd seen in the sunshine yesterday. From the water it's just as impressive, towering above the boat like a badly artexed wall, all rough pinnacles and sharp edges. The bright blue of the ice contrasted with the jade coloured lake and the dull grey sky, and I stood and stared at it for a long time, waiting in vain for it to collapse into the lake...





When the boat finally pulled away from the glacier, I went back inside and fell asleep, waking just as we pulled into port. Then we boarded the coach back to town, and I fell asleep on the way back. Well, it is a rest-day...

Back at the hotel I quickly switched on the laptop and checked in with Tracy. And the news was excellent, as Laura had given birth to... well, twins. I had been keen not to know their sex (they're identical twins so obviously the same sex) and so far had managed to avoid finding out, and Tracy wasn't going to tell me now. She gave me a number to call Laura on and so I did, speaking to her in her hospital bed... and... she told me I had 2 new grand-daughters! Which is just perfect as Isobel Nicole and Rebecca Louise bring my grandkid count to a nice round 4 girls and 4 boys...

And so with such good news to celebrate I went out with Finn and Nick, back to the bar we'd got stuck in yesterday, where we had a few celebratory beers and one very special whisky (the 370-peso Macallan 18-year old oak aged special edition) bought for me by these generous gentlemen. I think my camera may also have been drinking judging by how blurred this photo is...





This time we managed to leave the bar to eat, a delicious steak washed down with a very good bottle of Merlot, but then we made a wrong turning when leaving the restaurant and ended up back in the bar again for a last beer (and a mojito chaser). Oh dear, another night with way too much to drink... better book myself into the Priory for when I get home...