Punta Tombo and Gaiman

It was warm and cozy in the hotel due to the radiator but the air was also dry, so I washed a couple of items and put them on the radiator to provide humidity. First thing in the morning I walked to Sur Turismo. It was not open yet so I had tea and medialunas for breakfast in a cafe. When they did open I was told that the tour wasn't running, so I went to another travel agent and signed up for a Punta Tombo only tour instead of one that included Gaiman. That I would have to do on my own. I preferred that anyway.

I got put in a people mover with a group of bible school people from the US. I sensed that they would have liked to proselyte me but they didn't. Our tour guide had Welsh/English/Spanish/Italian ancestry. He was very experienced and tuned his spiel to the group. Along the way we spotted some guanacos on a rise. I had a telephoto lens so I snapped away. Wow you're shooting them down with your camera, joked one of the missionaries. (The vertical streaks are due to the vehicle windows.) Guanacos are wild compared to the domesticated llamas and alpacas. In common with the other members of the family, one of their defensive reactions is spitting.

Now penguins, I have time for. People like them because they look like short waiters. These Magellanic penguins were livelier than lazy blubber sacks. The black back makes them harder to spot by predators from the air and the white belly makes them less visible to fish from below.

At the rookery, they had laid out paths for the penguins and visitors were strictly prohibited from interfering with them. It was amusing to see them waddle single file like this.

Here you can see what a burrow looks like, thanks to my telephoto lens.

A nest with an egg. You can see the edge of someone's jacket. There was a whole group of people watching this penguin.

Here's a close up of a handsome specimen under vegetation.

Looks like these penguins at the water's edge were returning from fishing.

Our guide gave us an interesting account of the penguin's life cycle. (Sadly, global warming has shifted their fishing grounds, requiring them to swim further to fetch food, thus stressing them. - Oct 2012)

Here you can see in the background the platforms the visitors were to keep to when observing penguins. If I recall correctly, it's their poor eyesight that protects them from being upset by people around. They have a keen sense of smell though.

On returning to Trelew (from Trelewis) I caught a bus to Gaiman, a village about 15 km to the west. The Welsh settled this part of Argentina starting in 1865, which accounts for many Joneses. With support from Wales, Chubut province has maintained and celebrated links between the old and the new countries. But today there are few identifiably Welsh faces in Gaiman. Aside from a small museum, and Welsh fruit cake in the shops, you wouldn't suspect the history unless you had read about it.

I could have taken té gales (Welsh tea) but I decided it would be too filling on a warm and dusty day. There were sand flies buzzing. There would be an election soon so there were loudspeaker trucks on the streets.

Trelew felt more like a working town than a tourist town. Timber is in short supply so telephone and electricity poles are made of concrete and steel. I remembered that I had seen the missionaries in the tenedor libre the night before. And speaking of food, I felt that the Argentinians weren't as good as the Brazilians at cooking. On the whole Argentinians were more reserved than the Brazilians. They might be curious but still restrained.

At 2130, I boarded the night bus heading west to Esquel for the next episode of my adventure.

Puerto Madryn

Puerto Madryn was named in 1865 by the first 153 immigrants from Wales, after the estate of one of the founders of the Welsh settlement in Patagonia. It is protected by the Golfo Nuevo and is an important resort town. Signs in the railway station were in several languages. My reason for coming was to take a whale and seal tour at Peninsula Valdés. I made the booking at a local travel agency for the next day. The saleswoman also confirmed that I could book the Punta Tombo tour from the city of Trelew, another former Welsh settlement about 60 km south.

The hotel was renovating for the coming season, but the woman receptionist was slightly grumpy. In one of the cupboards of my room I found a book of Roald Dahl stories that came from a local bookstore. Probably left behind by a previous tourist. The town looked moderately well off and had artisan and other specialty shops. Also surfing and sailing schools. The supermarket was well stocked. There were many kids in the street, from a school excursion perhaps. A group of darker skinned people turned out to be Chilean visitors.

With the booking made, I had the day at my disposal so I took myself for a walk on the beach. There was a long stretch of brown sand between land and sea. The wind created swirling patterns of drifting sand. I had to shake sand out of my ears every now and then. That's a feature of Patagonia, the constant wind.

In the evening I took dinner at the pokie club. As expected it was pub quality food. There was a football match on TV with very intrusive ads, for Reebok, for example. According to the news there had been floods in Entre Rios and Corrientes provinces, which I had passed through a week ago. Looks like I got out in time.

The evening felt cold because skies were clear so the land lost heat quickly after sunset, and because of the wind, always the wind.