Ushuaia - The Southernmost City in the World. The End of the World. Or is it???
Ushuaia (pronounced by locals as Uu-SWY-uh) sits at the Southern tip of South America on the island of Tierra Del Fuego, shared by the furthest reaches of both Chile and Argentina; Ushuaia being on the Argentinian side. It was originally an important shipping and sailing port for those coming around the treacherous Cape Horn and Strait of Magellan. These days, tourism seems to be taking over, providing a far-flung destination in its own right at the end of Patagonia, as well as a launching point for an increasing number of tourists heading down to Antarctica, such as myself.
Flying in from Buenos Aires, instead of opting for a long combination of buses and ferries that would take around 48 hrs, we descended out of the clouds, revealing a spectacular view of jagged teeth of mountains dropping straight into the lakes and inlets of the watery region. Snow remained on a few peaks, while the others remained wind-swept and barren for the most part, bits of forest lining the bottom of the landmasses. Here at the Southern end of the Andes, the impressive range falls off into the ocean in a dramatic fashion, and somehow it seemed like our pilot did nearly a full circle on the approach to the airport, allowing us great views of the surroundings. Once on the ground, I made my way past the package tourists heading to Antarctica (and was jealous that they didn't even have to pick up their own luggage), and got a taxi into the small city.
Though it caters to tourism, the hilly little city still has a pleasant feel, especially once off popular San Martin street, lined with travel agencies, restaurants and hotels. Small one and two story houses and shops cover most of the streets, with many of the residents now living a few blocks further up the steep hills and out of the tourist center. The architecture was pleasingly simple, as it often is in these remote cold-weather towns with small houses and A-frames painted in a nice rich variety of yellows, reds, blues and whites. In some ways, it reminded me of a sleepy Rocky Mountain ski town in the offseason, as the season here was also winding down as the chill of winter was about to set in. The extreme weather in this area is well-documented, boasting four seasons in a day, changing from warm and sunny to freezing, blustery and raining in a matter of minutes, which is exactly what happened briefly during my first day there. Fortunately, the rain passed, and I had a chance to walk around town, joined at times by a few of the numerous stray dogs that seem to roam the areas around Patagonia - perhaps former sheep herders, perhaps just wayward souls making their way South for a new life.
While wandering around the main streets of this small town, I came across a group filming a movie on the pier in front of the water, though after watching a few takes, I got the feeling that it's a sort of teeny-bopper movie that probably wouldn't be a shame to miss. Moving on, I headed back for some lunch, hoping to find the small sign that caught my eye from the taxi in a shop window "Mexico Taco." Passing it twice, I finally came back upon the small rotisserie/butcher shop and inquired, finding that they are only served at dinner time. Instead I opted for another local sandwich/meat shop, but when dinner came around, I headed back for the tacos, having to wait 30 minutes for them to be made, but the slightly Mexican taste of the grilled meat and guacamole couple with flatbread in place of tortillas was quite a treat in a place where I'd never expect something like that. Back at my hostel, there was a mixup with overbooking, so my dorm room was already full, though they kindly offered to allow me to sleep in a set of bunkbeds in the tv room for half the price (assuring me that I could kick the other guests out at 10 pm). In the end, I paid less and got a room almost to myself (though a German couple with the same situation showed up later and also shared the room), so it worked out fairly well, as things tend to when you travel, just not always according to plan.
Mostly, though, my time in Ushuaia was spent looking out at the docks and the long Beagle Channel passing by the mountains in its quest for the open ocean. I had come down to fill a last minute spot on an Antarctica cruise that I had booked a week or two earlier, and my thoughts kept drifting to that iconic place, particularly when I saw our boat come in that morning, getting cleaned, refueled and ready for our trip leaving that afternoon. It was meant as a quick stop, and I thought it might be over-touristed, but I was actually pleasantly surprised by Ushuaia. Not that it was an undiscovered gem, but I found some friendly people and a beautiful landscape, ready to whisk me away to what should be an unforgettable journey down to the polar regions.
As for their claim to being the Southernmost City in the World, I guess it depends what defines a city. It is certainly the Southernmost in Argentina, but about 40 minutes away, across the Beagle Channel and a little to the Southeast, sits Puerto Williams, a small Chilean town that is certainly further South, though surely far less developed than Ushuaia. So, whether or not it's true, it certainly makes a great claim for the city and intrigues visitors.
(San Martin street in Ushuaia. This is the main road in town, and it shows. Once an isolated port, this city is now on the map thanks to tourism touting it as the Southernmost City in the World! The End of the World moniker is also thrown around, though both titles are debatable, as there is actually a "city" further south across the Beagle Channel in Chile called Puerto Williams. Suckers.)
(Despite catering to many tourists these days, the city still retains its impressive setting at the base of a few mountains and the Beagle Channel.)
(Ushuaia has a bit of a prototypical Rocky Mountain ski resort feel. Things are definitely centered on tourism, but it still felt almost quaint enough, and the views are spectacular when the weather clears. Though, it will just change again in another half hour with the variable currents and wind patterns.)
(Sailboats still dot the harbor, backed by a few of the cruise ships and shipping vessels that come in and out of port. The leftmost of the big ships is a National Geographic cruise ship ready to leave for Antarctica that evening.)
(Circling around to a small peninsula, I got some great views of the hilly city across the water, just before dusk set in on my first night there. Windy and getting cold, I decided not to stay out too long.)
(The Martial Mountains form a great backdrop for the small city. Our flight in from Buenos Aires offered some incredible views of all the surrounding mountains, lakes and inlets of the ruggedly beautiful area. Many hikes are offered around the city and in the nearby Tierra Del Fuego national park.)
(Even the evocative name of the island is forboding - Tierra del Fuego; the land of fire. It has a mythical status among travellers and sailors. Even more amazing, I saw pictures of the indigenous people from around 100 years ago, and despite the bitterly cold, wet and windy winters here at the tip of the continent, they would often wear nothing more than loin cloths, believing the oils of their skin offered better protection than wet animal fur. Sadly, this culture has mostly disappeared, with supposedly only one native speaker of the Yagan language remaining.)
(Up a few blocks from the main road, my hostel sat on top of one of the small hills, and the entire top floor was a nice loft with couches and huge viewing windows of the city below. Through a booking mixup, the place was overbooked, and I got 50% off of my dormitory and got to stay in the TV room on a bunkbed by myself...until the same thing happened later that night and two Germans joined me.)
(Driving into town, I was surveying the houses and shops when a small sign advertising "Mexico Taco" caught my eye. Of course, I had to try it, and though the tortilla/shell was actually some sort of flatbread, the steak tacos and guacamole were quite good and a nice change from some of the more typical food here in Argentina.)
(Waiting for my Antarctic departure, I finally saw our boat come in that morning, ready to be cleaned and refueled for our trip that evening. This is the MV Antarctic Dream.)
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