Awoke early in port. Got our suitcases packed and set out in the hallway, then down to the Patagonia Deck for our last bit of scrambled egg soup and raw bacon. Had the usual fun jockinging for position around the toaster. Speaking of the food on our cruise, while the breakfasts leave a lot to be desired (which we have noticed throughout Latin America), the rest of the meals on board were very good. I primarily stuck to fish and seafood in anticipation of the beef expected in Argentina. The King Crab appetizer at last nights dinner was particularly good. We had a wide variety of wine from Chile which was good. The one Malbec from Argentina wasn't very appealing though. Service was good, and and overall, we didn't lose any weight! Back to our room to freshen up and received a call to indicated our transfer was waiting.
The driver was very pleasant, driving a beat up old Land Cruiser (lots of those around). He was parked right beside the sh
ip on the pier. The ship Clelia was docked for repairs after sustaining damage in the Drake Passage prior to Christmas and capture world wide attention as it limped to port in 30 foot seas. Drove off the pier and right past the immigration station. After passing by the officer, he whistled at the driver to stop, back up and then they put two of our four bags through a scanner. We didn't get out, nor have to show passports. This was an interesting customs experience! We carried on from there. Ushuaia appears to be a more vibrant town than Punta Arenas, although the population is lower. There were lots of shops by the pier. It was about 8:30 am and everything was closed. We asked the driver if we could get him to drive us around a bit and possible do some shopping once the stores opened, but he refused, saying his orders were for a direct transfer to the airport. This was pretty disappointing as we had quite a bit of time to kill before our flight at noon and we didn't really get a feel for Ushuaia.
The airport terminal was small, but there were some closed shops. One displayed some penguins carved from stone that caught Karen's eye, so we parked in front of it wait for opening. It never did. Once the check in opened, we got in line. The agent indicated that our bags were oversized and overweight. We wouldn't be allowed to carry on our hand baggage and had to pay an extra fee for overweight (300 Pesos). He offered to put us on a later flight to the International Airport and waive the fee, but this wouldn't work because we had no way of notifying our guide and pre-arranged transfer to our hotel in BA. Karen's carry on was only 1 kg over, but they still said it had to be checked. I wasn't in the mood to argue, and neglected to consider that our Santa Rita wine glasses were in Karen's loosely packed bag. Anyway, this lead to a few hours of worrying over broken glasses in her bag. We paid the fee, and also the airport tax of 56 pesos. With the overweight fee and tax, still considerable less than the entry fee paid at Santiago though. The gate lounge was crowded as there was a late flight. It was a bit confusing because the gates were not clearly marked (two gates, one lounge). The flight departed close to on time and we were on our way to Buenos Aires.
The municipal airport in Buenos Aires is very close to downtown, right on the Rio de la Plata. It is a fairly small airport, but still used buses from the plane to the terminal. We recovered our bags, and were relieved to find no damage. Met our transfer guide, Federico (Fred). The drive to our hotel was fairly short, but confusing due to freeways and one-ways. Drove past what is equivalent to Brasil's Favelas, I think the slang term for these is "Villas". These "squatters" homes are built with whatever can be scavanged, but represent permanent homes for the impoverished of Buenos Aires. Arrival at the Claridge Hotel on a narrow street. Federico indicated that we are very close to the pedestrian Florida Street, where many shops are located (Karen likes it!). We got checked in and settled and off to explore Florida Street. Some things that are hard to miss about Buenos Aires: hot, crowded, malodorous, grimey, old, run down, disrepair. We walked by some repair work underway right in front of our hotel that was interesting. The streets are very narrow and don't lend themselves to mechanized construction.
Excavations to expose pipes etc, by hand. Cement mixing with shovels right on the pavement (ie not in a wheelbarrow or mixing cone). Safety restrictions not evident, they just open up a hole, right there, leave it for days with some plastic ribbon as a barrier. Our exploring took us to Florida Street where we walked along just to get our bearings. Stopped for a snack at Il Gran Cafe for a cervesa and pizza to tide us over til dinner time, had a beggar walk right up to our table to see if we'd share our pizza with him. Walked by many shops, restaurants, banks, etc. There is a nice park with huge trees at the end of Florida, interesting historic buildings and statues.
Back at the hotel, we asked for a recommendation for a Parrilla. The consierge suggested El Establo, only three blocks away. Walking there at around 8:30 pm was interesting. Noticed several individuals sorting through mounds of garbage on the street. Groups of youths sitting on the curb drinking. The street we walked down was narrow and dark. I don't think my arm (where Karen was gripping me) will ever recov
er. We found the place, it was crowded but we got a nice table right away. Next to us sat a couple of American's and beside them two UA pilots. We overheard that this parrilla is a favourite amongst the airline crews. The meal was everything as advertised. The steaks were huge (even the half size). I had a 1.000 gm T-bone that was absolutely fantastic. Karen's half Bife de Lomo was also excellent. We were wise to share a salad and single order of frites. Nice bottle of Luigi Bosca Malbec that we really enjoyed. The waddle back to the Hotel was equally entertaining, young people quarreling over their booze(they carry liter bottles of coca and poor vodka into them).
The driver was very pleasant, driving a beat up old Land Cruiser (lots of those around). He was parked right beside the sh
ip on the pier. The ship Clelia was docked for repairs after sustaining damage in the Drake Passage prior to Christmas and capture world wide attention as it limped to port in 30 foot seas. Drove off the pier and right past the immigration station. After passing by the officer, he whistled at the driver to stop, back up and then they put two of our four bags through a scanner. We didn't get out, nor have to show passports. This was an interesting customs experience! We carried on from there. Ushuaia appears to be a more vibrant town than Punta Arenas, although the population is lower. There were lots of shops by the pier. It was about 8:30 am and everything was closed. We asked the driver if we could get him to drive us around a bit and possible do some shopping once the stores opened, but he refused, saying his orders were for a direct transfer to the airport. This was pretty disappointing as we had quite a bit of time to kill before our flight at noon and we didn't really get a feel for Ushuaia.The airport terminal was small, but there were some closed shops. One displayed some penguins carved from stone that caught Karen's eye, so we parked in front of it wait for opening. It never did. Once the check in opened, we got in line. The agent indicated that our bags were oversized and overweight. We wouldn't be allowed to carry on our hand baggage and had to pay an extra fee for overweight (300 Pesos). He offered to put us on a later flight to the International Airport and waive the fee, but this wouldn't work because we had no way of notifying our guide and pre-arranged transfer to our hotel in BA. Karen's carry on was only 1 kg over, but they still said it had to be checked. I wasn't in the mood to argue, and neglected to consider that our Santa Rita wine glasses were in Karen's loosely packed bag. Anyway, this lead to a few hours of worrying over broken glasses in her bag. We paid the fee, and also the airport tax of 56 pesos. With the overweight fee and tax, still considerable less than the entry fee paid at Santiago though. The gate lounge was crowded as there was a late flight. It was a bit confusing because the gates were not clearly marked (two gates, one lounge). The flight departed close to on time and we were on our way to Buenos Aires.
The municipal airport in Buenos Aires is very close to downtown, right on the Rio de la Plata. It is a fairly small airport, but still used buses from the plane to the terminal. We recovered our bags, and were relieved to find no damage. Met our transfer guide, Federico (Fred). The drive to our hotel was fairly short, but confusing due to freeways and one-ways. Drove past what is equivalent to Brasil's Favelas, I think the slang term for these is "Villas". These "squatters" homes are built with whatever can be scavanged, but represent permanent homes for the impoverished of Buenos Aires. Arrival at the Claridge Hotel on a narrow street. Federico indicated that we are very close to the pedestrian Florida Street, where many shops are located (Karen likes it!). We got checked in and settled and off to explore Florida Street. Some things that are hard to miss about Buenos Aires: hot, crowded, malodorous, grimey, old, run down, disrepair. We walked by some repair work underway right in front of our hotel that was interesting. The streets are very narrow and don't lend themselves to mechanized construction.
Excavations to expose pipes etc, by hand. Cement mixing with shovels right on the pavement (ie not in a wheelbarrow or mixing cone). Safety restrictions not evident, they just open up a hole, right there, leave it for days with some plastic ribbon as a barrier. Our exploring took us to Florida Street where we walked along just to get our bearings. Stopped for a snack at Il Gran Cafe for a cervesa and pizza to tide us over til dinner time, had a beggar walk right up to our table to see if we'd share our pizza with him. Walked by many shops, restaurants, banks, etc. There is a nice park with huge trees at the end of Florida, interesting historic buildings and statues.Back at the hotel, we asked for a recommendation for a Parrilla. The consierge suggested El Establo, only three blocks away. Walking there at around 8:30 pm was interesting. Noticed several individuals sorting through mounds of garbage on the street. Groups of youths sitting on the curb drinking. The street we walked down was narrow and dark. I don't think my arm (where Karen was gripping me) will ever recov
er. We found the place, it was crowded but we got a nice table right away. Next to us sat a couple of American's and beside them two UA pilots. We overheard that this parrilla is a favourite amongst the airline crews. The meal was everything as advertised. The steaks were huge (even the half size). I had a 1.000 gm T-bone that was absolutely fantastic. Karen's half Bife de Lomo was also excellent. We were wise to share a salad and single order of frites. Nice bottle of Luigi Bosca Malbec that we really enjoyed. The waddle back to the Hotel was equally entertaining, young people quarreling over their booze(they carry liter bottles of coca and poor vodka into them).
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