The White Continent

Sailing towards the ice

Humpback in still waters

My colleagues at BBQ on the bow

Incoming Blue-eyed Shag

Adelie Penguins with downy chicks

Black-browed Albatross

Macaroni Penguin

Chinstrap Penguin with chicks

Fuzzy babies

Gentoo Penguin going for a swim

Porpoising Gentoo

Iceberg hues

Elephant Seals in Gentoo rookery

Ship anchored in Whaler's Bay, a volcanic caldera

Lunch time for baby

Kayakers in Paradise Harbour

Pancake ice in Wilhelmina Bay

Zodiac cruising

Gentoo 

Penguin highway

Sasha and Pasha, Russian crew

Iceberg and "bergy bits"

El Capitan

Argentine Research Station - Almirante Brown

Hard at work

Curious Gentoo chick

Chinstrap Penguins

...or "Polish Policemen"

Leopard Seal

Scale of iceberg next to zodiac on left

Chad, master of the zodiac

Derek, our naturalist, going up the hook after morning excursion

Chinstraps considering a swim

The Professor Multonovskiy

Neco Harbour with ship behind me

Andrew and Chad, expedition leader and kayak guide

Entering Lemaire Channel (0.8 miles wide)

Gentoo with freshly-hatched chick and egg

I have arrived back in Ushuaia after two incredible back-to-back voyages to the continent of Antarctica with One Ocean Expeditions.  Each voyage involved two days crossing the infamous Drake Passage, five days on the continent with two three-hour zodiac excursions each day and return through the Drake around Cape Horn.   Our Dutch-owned ship, the Professor Multinovskiy, ran with a Russian crew of 21, three chefs, six expedition staff and 44 passengers from 12 countries.  We had gorgeous weather, a night camping on the ice and many close encounters with the natives.  All told, a life-changing experience.

What photographs cannot describe however, is the rolling of the ship, the stench downwind of a penguin colony, the snort of a leopard seal, the grumbling growl of a humpback taking a breath, the gunshot crash of a calving glacier, the rhythmic waves lapping the beach, the gargling display of a chinstrap, the cawing from a cape petrel nest, the comical waddle of a penguin chick chasing it's parent for a meal, the clink of glacier ice in a glass of scotch, the staff jokes across the radios, the sun shining on the deck, the dryness in the air, the acrobatic dives of a feeding Antarctic Tern, the racket from a penguin colony 5000 strong, planing out in a zodiac or the happy exhaustion when falling into a bunk after a full and amazing day on the 7th continent.

Gone to Antarctica

A beautiful sunrise over the Beagle Channel. Today I embark on the Professor Multinovskiy for the Drake Passage and on to the Antarctic.

I stand ready to behold wonders.

Feliz Ano Nuevo!

Underneath the fireworks

Christian with our lovely French hosts from the Harrington B&B, Veronique y Olivier

2009 began with champagne and an extravagant fireworks dispay over the Pacific Ocean - apparently the biggest in Latin America. We watched from the cerros (hillsides) of Valporaiso, Chile – Valpo for short. This historical part of the harbor town was designated as a UNESCO world heritage site a few years ago to preserve the colorful houses, intricate alleyways, curving staircases and rickety funiculars climbing up the hills.  

Sign for "ascensor" or funicular elevator, one of 16 in the city used to get up and down the hillsides




The spontaneous decision to come up and over the Andes to Chile has proved a good one. We spent Christmas in Valpo with new American friends, Cooper and Margaret, who are currently living in Buenos Aires.



Coop and Margaret

Then we rented a car and drove down the coast to the beachtown of Pichelemu. A few days kicking it on the sand and watching the surfers was a treat. See my new friend Estrella ("star" in Spanish)

After all the steak in Argentina, the seafood here is heaven. Conger Eel is a specialty, as is anything done Pil-Pil style, meaning cooked in garlic, olive oil and red chile. We did NOT eat the Corvino or Chilean Sea Bass, (also know as Patagonian Toothfish) on offer everywhere, as it continues to be overfished.

Chileans claim pisco as their own national drink– as do the Peruvians. We stayed out of the debate and quietly sipped our pisco sours. But the wine is what we really wanted: more and more lush valleys of grapevines to explore! We toured Montes, Casa LaPostalle, and Casa de Bosque (all imported in the US and great values). Our trek up the hill of Cachagua Valley with a guide from Montes was rewarded by an alfresco lunch and glorious views.

Grapes

Grapes from top of hike in Valle de Apalta

Grapes in Casablanca

And more grapes

Another highlight of our 10 days in Chile has been wandering through two of the three homes of the poet Pablo Neruda. La Sebastiani is in Valporaiso and further down the coast is Isla Negra - his favorite home. Full of collections of boatsprits (bowhead figures from ships), colored glass, ship models, and wonderful eclectic treasures from his travels around the world, his homes embody his spirit. I learned a lot about one of my favorite poets walking through his space. For instance:  Neruda always wrote in green ink and above his different work desks he hung photos of Walt Whitman, Baudelaire and other poets he admired. I will have to come back to Santiago to visit La Chascana,  bought and named for his third wife Matilde (Chascana means "tousled" as she had a wild mane of hair).

A small section of the rambling Isla Negra

La Sebastiani in Valporaiso

Tomorrow I fly to Tierra del Fuego to Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world, to begin work with One Ocean Expeditions.  Stay tuned!

Valle de Uco

This picture doesn't begin to do the scenery justice.  Yes, those are indeed the Andes rising up directly behind the vineyards.  The closer you get to the mountains the better the quality of grapes, according to Tomas Achaval and he's found himself some great land to grow incredible grapes. 

Tomas

Tomas invited us down to the Uco Valley, an hour south of Mendoza, to see the vineyards where all the magic happens for his Nomade wines.  This valley is compared by some to the Napa Valley of 30 years ago for the quality grapes and the quiet roads.  The added incentive (as if we needed one) was the crew was grilling asado in the vineyard that day.  

Salud and 

Buen Provencho!

Gustavo, the jefe or vineyard foreman, cooked a massive amount of steak, ribs and chorizo over the bonfire.  We all stood around the table and I learned how to cut the steak, ribs and chorizo with a big gaucho knife, using a piece of bread in my left hand as a plate.  Eating with our hands, chatting and drinking malbec grown from this very vineyard made for a great picnic.

Here's me with the jefe (far left) and crew.

Tomas y yo

After lunch, we walked the new Las Mulas vineyard (named for the historic place close by where the army used to raise the mules so important for crossing the mountains) where Tomas grows merlot.  To get there, we drove up dirt roads, walked across a meadow past a white horse grazing, picked wild yellow plums and drank water from the cold, cold streams. Absolutely heaven.

We then headed into the lab to taste wines from the barrel and do some blending with Tomas's enologist.  After our siesta.

Los Andes

After the fast life in Buenos Aires, we've enjoyed a quiet week in Mendoza. Located at the base of the Andes, this pretty green town is an oasis in the middle of the semi-desert. Irrigation in the form of snowmelt from the mountains ensures leafy trees and showy fountains in the main plazas which are arranged like a five die. And of course, the snowmelt waters the grapevines as well. The relaxed pace in town goes like this: businesses open from 9 a.m. - 1 p.m. then close for a three hour lunch/siesta break, then open back up from 4 p.m. - 10 p.m. People start strolling to the sidewalk cafes for dinner around 11 p.m. The response to telling someone I had to be at an appointment: "Ah, they can wait."

Sunday we drove within 15 km of the Chilean border to visit Aconcagua, which at 23,000 feet is the highest peak outside of the Himalayas and twice as tall as Washington State's Mt. Rainier. We congratulated an expedition coming down on their mules from the summit after the two-week trek. We also stopped to pay our respects at the Cemeterio Andinistas, where climbers who fell on the mountain are buried. One gravestone reads "Here rests our eternal friend, who loved the mountain more than the world."

Weekend Argentine-Style

Argentines keep a frenzied social calendar and survive on an unnatural lack of sleep.  This weekend I tried my best to keep up. It all began in the VIP section of Madonna's Sticky and Sweet tour with our new friend Coli. My big brother Patrick met him on the Greek island of Ios 15 years ago and we immediately became great friends. Coli is the saxophonist in the popular Uruguayan band La Vela Puerca (www.velapuerca.com.uy) and is working as a translator for the Material Girl's tech team.  She put on a serious show and I got goosebumps when she sang "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" with a massive blue-and-white-striped flag hanging behind her. The entertaining night turned into morning as we talked philosophy over beers in an outdoor plaza with Coli until 5:00 a.m. I didn't realize it was so late (er, early) as the square was packed with customers as the bars continued to serve 'til the sun came up.

After a quick nap, we dragged ourselves out of bed to hit the contemporary art museum MALBA, showcasing Latin American artists.  My new favorite painter is the Mexican, Covarrubias.  We ate a leisurely lunch in the garden and spent a few hours in front of the canvases. www.malba.org.ar

Late afternoon found us in the cheap seats at Campo de Palermo for the semi-final polo match of the Argentine Open, or "El Albierto." This is the final and most important tournament in the international polo circuit, as Argentines are the undisputed masters of the sport. La Dolfina beat Pilara (both Argentine teams made up of four players) 18-13 in eight 7-minute chukkers. Argentines do not stomp divots at halftime (there didn't seem to be a halftime) which was why I had really wanted to go in the first place. The crowd was strangely quiet during most of the game, giving only polite golf claps when either of the teams scored. I've fallen madly in love with Adolfo Cambioso, the captain of La Dolfina and you can see why here: www.ladolfina.com. After the event, we drank free champagne with the fancy crowd on exclusive side of the stadium and I waited in vain to congratulate Adolfo.

A progressive dinner followed in the upscale Palermo neighborhood with a new friend Peter:  tennis star, ladies man and international man of mystery. We met him at the polo match and learned he mainly jets around the world practicing his eight languages. He left us to go to a private party at MALBA because I couldn't overcome yet another fat steak.  How do these girls do it?  Food coma and lack of sleep prevailed.

Sunday morning we strolled in La Boca, one of the oldest barrios of Buenos Aires, where the tango was born in brightly-painted brothels and taverns. This impoverished neighborhood is now a tourist trap, but we slipped into the elegant Fundacion PROA musuem to see an incredible Marcel Duchamp exhibit.  www.proa.org  

With only a few hours left in Buenos Aires, we finished our afternoon in San Telmo's famous and extensive outdoor Sunday Antique Market. The neighborhood becomes a pedestrian zone one day a week and street performers tango and vendors sell all sorts of fascinating things like tiny toy soldiers, copper watering cans, old photographs and these beautiful 100-year-old glass bottles that were used to dispense carbonation. I thought I really needed a few until I learned they each cost $100 and up.

Standing at the counter of a local asado joint, we dined on cheap and delicious chorizo and steak sandwiches.  Afterwards I sank thankfully into my fully-reclining seat for the 13-hour overnight bus ride to Mendoza.

With a touch of pride, the portenos say "Buenos Aires, te mata" (Buenos Aires kills you).  I am ready to be a country girl.

Eight Angels, a Lion and Carlos

Taking advantage of a dark and stormy afternoon, Christian and I visited the Recoleta Cemetery.  World-renowned for funerary sculpture and being the most expensive real estate in Buenos Aires, this is the final resting place for presidents, poets, generals and Eva Peron.  Feral cats roam the walkways and bougainvilleas climb over immaculate and decrepit mausoleums.  I loved all the many wing styles of the angels and hope to someday have a lion like this guarding me.

The following day, the weather lightened up and we headed out of town for Sunday BBQ.  Tomas Archeval, of Nomade Winery and former CEO of Chandon South America, invited us to an asada with his family.  We ate sirloin, tenderloin, chorizo, blood sausage, pork, and more tenderloin.  All washed down with his full-bodied Malbecs and Syrahs.  All in the name of research, you understand.  Check out his wines at www.nomadewines.com. 

Monday we wandered the streets and ended up at Clasica y Moderna, a cafe/bookstore with live music - tango guitar from the 1930's on this occasion - and spent a mellow Monday night in Bs.As. with the locals.  To give you a taste of the melancholic and soulful sound, here is a snippet of Carlos Gardel singing about the city he loved.  When he tragically died in an airplane crash in 1935, millions went into mourning and several female fans on different continents attempted suicide.  He remains popular today and portenos (people "from the port" of Buenos Aires) often say "Gardel sings better every day."