Desgarro parcial del ligamento cruzado anterior

Following what appeared at first to be a minor injury to Sarah's knee resulting from her being taken out by a careless snowboarder at Cerro Castor (not Dave, as some have asked!), we sought out a doctor as there was more pain and swelling than would result from a minor injury.  The clinic in Ushuaia was well equipped except in the field of English. After much pointing and gesturing, resulting from our grasp of the Spanish language being exceeded, the doctor prescribed an MRI scan. On production of a credit card, the scan was done within half an hour.

Two days later, we returned to the clinic, and were presented with a sheet of diagnoses, which was not entirely comprehensible; a combination of being in Spanish and containing unfamiliar medical terminology. Another doctor gave a rough translation of 'desgarro parcial del ligamento cruzado anterior' as a partially torn Anterior Cruciate Ligament. This was later confirmed by Google Translate. Earlier that day we have got a taxi up to Glaciar Martial, where Dave briefly snowboarded on dubious rental equipment, and Sarah enjoyed a chairlift ride and some cafe time. The powder snow was waist deep at the top; it snowed this day as it had for the previous two.

The following day, we went on the boat trip along the Beagle Channel. The trip out of Ushuaia was quite rough in the medium-sized catamaran, which wasn't great in the waves. The first stop was a beach landing on an island with a cool old timber hut. The main part of the trip was spent visiting other rocky islands covered with 'lobo marinos' (sea lions) and cormorants. The boat got very close to the rocks, so we could hear and smell the animals! The boat then went out to the Les Eclairues lighthouse, the southernmost point of our South America trip, and then back to Ushuaia. It was a beautiful sunny day, with amazing views of the mountains covered in snow down to sea level. We were only about 1000km from Antarctica, and it felt like we were there! We later re-planned our travel to reach Puerto Natales in Chile without any long bus journeys that would not favour Sarah's knee, where we hoped to get the ferry up to Puerto Montt.

The journey to Puerto Natales involved a two-leg flight with LADE again to El Calafate, and then a short cross-border bus. The LADE booking system was down in their town office, so we were told to go to the airport at 6pm (nearly an hour after the scheduled departure time). We got to the airport in Ushuaia, with no idea if the plane would go, and with no tickets. Eventually a LADE staff member arrived, we paid him cash and he gave us the usual un-named plastic boarding passes. The plane arrived at the halfway point at Rio Gallegos and we were told to go to the terminal then get on another plane parked nearby. We were a bit concerned as we had no tickets, boarding passes or luggage! To our relief, we were rounded up by one of the crew, who pointed us in the right direction. We made it to El Calafate, albeit LADE-style. They say that kiwis are laid-back, but Patagonia is on the next level!

After a bus journey through the coal-mining border towns, we arrived in Puerto Natales, possibly doubling the population. This town in winter is completely empty and most places are closed, so we just waited for the ship to arrive.

On the Monday, the Navimag office was open and the 132m-long ferry Amadeo 1 arrived late morning, an hour early. We had been told by many people that the ferry was either not running or not taking passengers. However, we easily booked our cabin, increasing the number of passengers to 14. Winter really is the best time to do this voyage, as we had a 6-bed cabin to ourselves for a third of the normal price of sharing. That evening we boarded the ship and waited for it to depart. That occurred at 7am the next day. Once we were underway, we quickly realised we were the only non-Chileans on board, and the only tourists. Cows outnumbered people by 10 to 1. The first day was smooth sailing through the narrows of the fiords, just wide enough for the ship to pass through. Although cloudy, the views were magnificent, and we braved the cold on deck wearing all our clothes. The other passengers stayed in the dining room watching movies for the entire three-day voyage. The ship was very basic, but the cabin was comfortable enough, with a better shower than many hostels!

At 4am the next morning, the ships horn was sounding, so we went outside to have a look. From the small town of Puerto Eden, a dozen small boats rushed out to collect their supplies from the ferry. There are no roads in this region of Chile, so the ferry must be their only supply route. At lunch that day, one of the crew explained to us in his simplest Spanish that it would get rough soon. He wasn't wrong, for the next ten hours the ship was broadsided by what appeared to us to be big waves. It was uncomfortable for us, and the cows didn't like it either! The next day, the only English speaking member of the crew showed us around the bridge, and explained how yesterday was a 'very calm' day. This final day was spent in a wide channel, passing distant mountains and a steaming volcano. The ferry arrived in Puerto Montt in the evening, but we slept on board and disembarked the next morning.

Puerto Montt was a pleasant town of old pioneer-style tin and timber buildings, although it is a busy port and had a less savoury feel at night as the wood-fire smog descended. We took the bus up to a small hamlet called Ensenada, which offered a short walk to a lakeside picnic spot, and another point that gave great views of the volcanoes on either side. Given the knee situation, we couldn't go very far, but it was still a good day.

In the meantime, Sarah's knee had not improved, and so the only option was to call off the last three months of our trip, that involved volunteering and hiking in Nepal, neither of which she could realistically do. We flew up to Santiago, staying at the same hostel we had three months ago, completing an awesome trip, and then on to Auckland. Thanks to our fantastic travel insurance company, Sarah was upgraded to Premier Business Class for the 13hr flight from Santiago to Auckland, so was able to lie flat with her knee outstretched; Dave had to remain in cattle class. We are now back in Christchurch, waiting for the result of further assessments of the injury and facing the reality of going back to work. The next task is to write a new list of places to go when we can, starting with Nepal.

Sarah icing her knee in the snow at Glaciar Martial.

 Ice on the catamaran in Beagle Channel, an indication of how cold it was!

 The Les Eclairues lighthouse, complete with ice.

Lobo marinos!!

  Cruising through the fiords on the ferry Amadeo I.

 Calm waters in the fiords.

 On the deck.

'Cattle Class' on the Amadeo I.

Found: The only chilli sauce in Patagonia

In Bariloche, we consulted the local park rangers and Club Andino (like the NZ Alpine Club) and were told that we could do a walk to the Refugio Frey hut, but it might be icy near the top. We set off and planned to turn back if it got too icy, thinking that the advice would be overly conservative based on our experience with DOC rangers in New Zealand. We reached the start of the walk by bus at about 9am, at which time it was barely getting light (usual for Patagonia). It was a nice walk along the frozen mud, past frozen rivers and waterfalls with spectacular ice formations. About half way to the hut the promised icy conditions materialised, with the track turning into a skating rink. Time for lunch and the walk back! On the way back we looked upon the very green and brown coloured ski field at Cerro Catedral. The following days in Bariloche were spent doing half-day walks up Cerro Campanario and Cerrito Llao Llao, to the west the town. These gave great views of the lake and the surrounding mountains. Very Fiordland-like we thought.

Then it was time to head for Puerto Madryn, on the Atlantic Coast. We decided to go there as it is the height of the whale season, when Southern Right Whales come to Peninsula Valdes to mate and give birth. Instead of the two-day, two-leg bus trip, we decided to pay slightly more and fly. We booked a flight with regional airline LADE, and having seen pictures in their office were expecting a medium-sized modern plane. Half an hour after our flight was due to take off, we were ushered downstairs in the terminal at Bariloche airport to wait for the bus to our plane. The bus arrived and took the two of us, two pilots in air force uniforms, two LADE air crew and our bags to the plane, which turned out to be an Argentine air force Twin Otter, in orange and grey search and rescue colours. We were the only passengers on the plane, and one of the four crew was only onboard to serve us tea and coffee! On arriving at Puerto Madryn, instead of landing, the pilot flew straight over the runway and headed out to sea so we could see the whales offshore. We saw about 10 whales before we even got to Peninsula Valdes!

Every day in Puerto Madryn we saw whales near the beach and the pier. They were always close to shore and sometimes showing their tails or breaching and jumping out of the water, the thuds as the 17m-long whales hit the water could be heard from the town. On our first full day in Puerto Madryn we took a tour around the peninsula. This included a boat trip from nearby Puerto Pyramides. On this small boat, we got close to several huge female whales (like Bolivian women they are significantly larger than the males) with newborn babies. One of the mothers was slapping her tail on the water not far from the boat. It was an amazing experience, well worth braving the freezing wind and spray of the South Atlantic. In the afternoon we were driven around the peninsula, seeing guanacos (wild alpacas), ostriches, maras (like a cross between a rabbit and a wallaby), elephant seals and skunks. On the way back, we stopped at the beach at El Doradillo. We had been there before, but at low tide. This time it was high tide, and the whales were right next to the shore. Everywhere we looked there were whales, some less than 20m away from us. To top it off, the sun that had been hidden by gloomy cloud all day, came out for the sunset. Certainly one of the highlights of our time in South America so far.

In Puerto Madryn, we once again despaired at the quality of Argentine food. Everything is heavily processed and completely devoid of flavour. We expressed our frustration whilst trying to find any kind of flavouring in the supermarket, only to discover we were stood next to an English tourist also searching in vain for the elusive chilli sauce! Every Argentinian we have met says that their food is great, and that Peruvian food is terrible. With such poor judgement as that, is it any wonder that the nation is in political and economic strife?

Next stop was El Calafate, in Southern Patagonia - further south than Stewart Island. We again opted to fly to avoid a multi-day bus journey. This time we had an actual jet plane, but an air force one of course. We later learned that LADE is a state run airline that is just a booking service for the air force - it makes more sense now! On arriving in El Calafate we went to the supermarket to get food for dinner. To our surprise there was a bottle labelled salsa de aji picante (chilli sauce!!) - that was a good day.

The town of El Calafate itself has little appeal; the lake level is so low in winter that the lakefront esplanade overlooks a muddy swamp. But people don't come here to roam the streets, and we soon went to see the main attraction, the Perito Moreno Glacier. The glacier makes New Zealand's ones look like the lumps of ice in a freezer that needs defrosting. We stood on the viewing platforms and admired the blue and purple colours of the glacier that stretched over the horizon further than we could see. The morning was perfect as it was cloudy, giving better colour to the ice, and there were few other visitors. The ground and trees where we walked along the many metal boardwalks, and the surrounding mountains, were covered with a dusting of snow. In the afternoon, the sun shone and warmed the ice causing blocks to fall with loud bangs into the lake. We easily spent five hours looking at the glacier from various angles.

The next day we took a bus to the town of El Chalten, three hours north of El Calafate. From there we walked with a few others from our bus through the snow up to Laguna Capri. This gave us a great view of the spectacular Monte Fitzroy, with its vertical faces over 3000m above the frozen lake. It was a perfect blue sky day - apparently a rare occurance this time of year. After a well-needed rest day we boarded the 3am bus to Ushuaia, the world's southernmost city.

The journey was long (18 hours) but quite interesting. It included two border crossings as we passed through Chile and then back to Argentina, a ferry, and quite a lot of snow. A couple of Americans on our bus were not allowed into Chile which delayed the journey but we still arrived at a reasonable hour. Having seen the snow falling on the way to Ushuaia, we decided to go to Cerro Castor (you guessed it - the southemost ski resort in the world) the next day. That next day was yesterday, and it was a good day, with fresh powder, blue skies and great views of the surrounding valleys and mountains. And now today it has been snowing heavily in Ushuaia - the weather is definately on our side this month!

One of the frozen rivers on track towards Refugio Frey.

The top of Cerrito Llao Llao, near Bariloche.

Our Argentinian Airforce Twin Otter.

 One of the adult whales near to the boat at Peninsula Valdes.

One the shore at El Doradillo; it took a few goes to get the whale fin in the background!

Perito Moreno Glacier.

On the viewing balconies at Perito Moreno Glacier.

Perito Moreno Glacier.

Perito Moreno Glacier, near El Calafate.

Snowy trees on the way up to Laguna Capri.

At the frozen Laguna Capri, with Monte Fitzroy in the backgound.

On the snow at Cerro Castor skifield, just outside Ushuaia.

Falling snow in Ushuaia.

Argentina, the long way round

We are now in Bariloche, in Argentina's lake district, following an 18 hour bus from Mendoza. At this stage 18 hours on a bus is usual and not the longest we have done, as will be explained below!

Two weeks ago we left Uyuni in Bolivia in an ageing but surprisingly comfortable Toyota Landcruiser with three Germans, a Spanish lady, and our driver Gregorio, a Bolivian who spoke no English. The first stop was at the Cementario de Trens, where a load of steam locomotives and carriages were dumped in the 1940's to slowly rust away, although some had been converted to swings, so weren't completely disused. From there we headed out onto the vast salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni, passing the ecologically disastrous salt hotels, which were being demolished. We stopped for lunch in the middle of the flats and attempted the customary perspectiveless photos, but failed completely despite having brought props including a bottle of Inca Kola. In the afternoon we stopped at a cactus-covered 'island' in the desert, where we once again met our friends Tina and Hamish, who we on the same tour with a different company. The day ended with a game of Inca chess in the hostel completely made of salt blocks and cactus wood, which sat on a hillside giving a spectacular view of the sunset and then sunrise over the Salar.

The second day of the tour began with Gregorio driving at great speed along the rough sandy road out of the salt basin. It then emerged that he had the ambition of competing in next year's Dakar Rally. This worried us a little, but he was actually a very good driver and probably could take part in the race and do well. The day was spent visiting a series of amazing lakes, with snowy volcanoes reflected in the water and flamingoes feeding by the shore. It was a great day, only dampened by the discovery that Sarah's bag had been partially soaked in petrol leaking from a container on the roof. The night was spent at about 4300m, the highest we have slept on this trip, and it was very cold outside but luckily warm inside as one of our sleeping bags was a petrol spillage casualty. We were given some truly awful Bolivian wine to accompany our dinner.

On day three it was supposed to be an early start but our car was blocked in by another which had a lost key followed by a flat tyre. We eventually got going, and Gregorio assured us that we wouldn't miss our connecting bus from the Chilean border, but we weren't convinced. We travelled past more colourful lakes and volcanoes, including some that we'd seen the other side of from Chile about a month previous. We reached the border at about 11am and were the second people to board the bus which then waited for others; Gregorio was right after all. The bus back to San Pedro de Atacama was along the smoothest tarmac we'd experienced for about four weeks, although it was rush hour at Chilean passport control so the journey slowed considerably.

Two days later we awoke in San Pedro and noticed it was cloudy. Alhough not normally a problem, cloudy in San Pedro means a blizzard at the 4200m Paso Jama, which our bus was due to cross to get to Salta in Argentina. Not only was the pass closed, but there was talk of it not opening for a week! We met a German girl who was planning to get the next bus to Santiago, so we decided to go with her and then cross Paso de los Libertadores to Mendoza the following day. The 23 hour bus journey to Santiago was surprisingly painless, mainly due to an accidental good choice in bus company. The next day we discovered that this pass was also closed, and it was only two days after that when we actually got a bus across. The bus passed hundreds of queuing trucks waiting to cross the border, went through a skifield, and then we were finally in Argentina!

First stop in Argentina on our hastily rearranged itinerary was Mendoza. It's a nice small city surrounded by vineyards. We did a Blenheim-style wine-and-bike tour of some of them. Most of the wines were of poor to moderate quality, but some were good, and all were better than Bolivian wine. We also found some good Patagonia beer to get us ready for the next stage of our journey. Someone has asked how much beer costs where we are, but in Argentina it's not easy to say, as the faltering economy means that a 20 peso bottle of beer could cost anything between US$2 and US$5, depending on which money changer you use.

So we are now in Bariloche. It's basically the Queenstown of Argentina, with a big lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains (but not quite snow-capped enough for the local ski resort which barely has any snow). It even has a gondola with a restaurant at the top, but also has a Swiss feel with log cabins, chocolate shops and St Bernard dogs. And everyone drives French or German cars. It's a beautiful place, and a great start to our Patagonian experience.

The train graveyard near Uyuni has been prepared for next year's event.

Our car at the lunch spot in the Salar de Uyuni.

With Tina and Hamish at Salar de Uyuni.

View of the salt flats from the island.

Sarah on the wind-carved rock formations on day 2 of the trip.

One of the lakes on the Salar de Uyuni trip.

 Lake stop with flamingoes for lunch on day 2.

Paso de los Libertadores between Chile and Argentina.

Dave on one of the fine bicycles used for the Mendoza wine tour.

Sarah with a big wine barrel near Mendoza.

The mythological representation of a potato

We are currently waiting for a bus to take us from La Paz to Uyuni, in Bolivia, so we have some time to recount the tale of the last nearly two weeks.

Before leaving Cusco, we checked out the museum of pre-Columbian art. There was a good range of pottery, metal and wood artefacts, including the drinking vessel that forms the title of this issue. We also had a chocolate-making course at the Museo de Cacao, which is more of a cafe and chocolate factory than a museum. It was really good, and we learned the full process, ending in our own chilli flavoured chocolate to take away.

From Cusco, it was back to Arequipa to meet our friend Yee who came down from Trujillo in northern Peru for a week. She was delayed by protests, which continued the following day as well, with people marching down the street outside our hostel. They were protesting against a law change that would axe cushy local government positions in favour of new ones that actually involved work. After Sarah had recovered from a short fever we went over to the Colca Canyon, just north of Arequipa and the world's second largest canyon at 3100m deep. The worlds first deepest is right next to it. It was a 3am start to cross the 4800m Mirador des Volcanes and into the canyon to see the condors soaring past us at the first lookout. We were amazed at how big the were, and probably lucky to see so many of them. We reached Cabanaconde mid morning and set off down towards the oasis at the bottom of the canyon. Yee and fellow Peace Corps volunteer Steven reached the oasis, but we turned back due to the heat, along with another volunteer whose innaproproate shoes broke half way down. The evening saw good pizza and pisco-based beverages, and then followed an early start to prepare a makeshift birthday cake for Yee, by carving a distinctly average cake into a personalised one, complete with candle made from some tourist brochures. Then it was back to Arequipa to celebrate Yee's birthday at a great restaurant with an amazing alpaca curry.

Next day we got a bus to Puno, on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, apparently the world's highest navigable lake at 3810m. The following day was spent on a boat trip to the Uros Islands, made from floating mats of reeds 3m thick. It was great to see how people lived on these man-made islands, and we got a short trip on a canoe made of reeds. Then it was a 2 hour boat ride to Taquille Island, further out into the lake, where we took a short walk up to the main square, passing locals with traditional clothing and an assortment of farm animals. Yee left at 2am to return home; it was sad to see her go, as it had been great to catch up with her for the preceeding week.

The next journey was by bus to La Paz. This involved the most uneventful border crossing imaginable. We just walked into a small village and got stamped into Bolivia at a tiny desk. The process took about 5 minutes and was free - for the US citizens on our bus this took half an hour and cost them a substantial fee. We then arrived in La Paz and were immediately unimpressed, a feeling which has continued for our stay here. After the great time we had in Peru, Bolivia was always going to struggle to compete. But they say every cloud has a silver lining, and this came in the form of our friends Tina and Hamish who we met up with and had some great Mexican food and a good catch up. We visited the world's worst park, containing virtually no vegetation despite being denoted as a green area on the city map.

Today we visited Tiwanaku, the ruins of a pre-Inca capital one hour from La Paz. The Lonely Planet book says that 'visitors fresh from Peru will be disappointed', and they were correct, although it was interesting to learn about a civilization that existed in this area for 2700 years, helping us to understand the Inca story that we leaned about in Peru a bit better. Our guide, although no 'Cocaman', gave some insight into the society that was based around 'harmony, unity, reprocity and equality'. As we noted with the Inca culture, many aspects of their religion make good sense and are remarkably simple.

A soaring condor

Us hiking in the Colca Canyon

With Yee in the Colca Canyon

Dinner at the hostel

Enjoying the trip, Lake Titikaka

Uros floating islands, Lake Titikaka

Farm terraces, Isle Taquille, Lake Titikaka

Dave at Tiwanaku

Spitting llamas and Inca chess

We are currently in Cusco enjoying a game of Inca chess (with Inca vs conquistadors of course) and a cup of tea after finishing the Salkantay Trek yesterday, with a background noise of fireworks which are used day and night here. It was a four day hike from Mollepata, southwest of Cusco, to Machu Picchu, with a day there before returning to Cusco.

We left Cusco at 5am on the first day and arrived in Mollepata for breakfast, meeting the other three clients and our guide, Saul, more commonly known as 'Cocaman' due to his tendency to chew large amounts of coca leaves. He is the grandson of a local shaman and his first language is Quechua, the Inca language, not Spanish. He explained the ceremony for the first coca leaves of the day, involving waving them like an ascending condor and repeating the names of local mountains. After that he offered us the option of taking a 'car' up the hill and then walking to a lake or just walking up the road. We chose the former and then learned what he meant by 'car'. After 40 minutes standing in the back of a flat deck truck up a rough road we disembarked and started walking, soon getting the first sight of the snow covered Humatay mountain. The walk up was hot and dusty but the view was amazing - 'just wait until you see Salkantay' Cocaman said. A good lunch was followed by a good lie down at our campsite at 3800m, then it was off to the lake (the name of which was too hard to remember). The walk was tough up to the lake at 4200m. Cocaman deliberately made us think it was closer than it was to make us decide to go, and we were glad he did. The lake was amazing with a full spectrum of colours, surrounded by the massive face of Humantay. We got there just as the sun was going down; other groups weren't so lucky and missed the colours. When the sun went down the temperature went from hot to cold (the only two temperature settings in the Andes) so we rushed back to camp for dinner. The meals prepared by the cook, Victoriano, were outstanding, and probably the some of the best food we've had on our trip, all immaculately presented despite the basic cooking facilities. In the evening we soaked up the view of Salkantay mountain in the dusk glow and then retired to our tent.

We were woken early on day two with the customary cups of hot coca tea, and after breakfast we were off up the valley towards Abra Salkantay (Salkantay Pass). The first part was fairly flat and straightforward, but then the going became steep, and once we passed 4400m very slow going, stopping for breath every few minutes. We were passed by numerous mule trains carrying all our and other groups camping and cooking gear across. Some mules we strangely woolly - perhaps a naughty encounter between a horse and a llama?! After walking for four hours we finally reached the pass at 4643m. The hard climb was rewarded by great views and the fatigue suddenly disappeared. The rest of the day was downhill to camp in a much less secluded campsite, complete with drunken English tourists and roosters.

Day three was a mostly flat walk through the forest. The temperature was set to 'hot' this day and it was quite hard work, made worse by aches from the climb the previous day and Dave's man-flu. After lunch, a 'car' took us to the next camp - this time it was a 10 seat minivan packed with 21 people and about a tonne of gear on the roof. We eventually made it to camp and enjoyed the usual spectacular dinner, getting to sleep to the sound of YMCA on repeat on a huge sound system.

Breakfast on day four included a large iced sponge cake (of course) then we took a properly loaded bus to the hydroelectric station, from where it was a pleasant 3 hour walk along the railway line around Machu Picchu to stay in a hotel (with shower!!) in Aguas Calientes.

The last day we got an early bus to get to Machu Picchu at just after 6am. Cocaman lost his usual composure when someone overslept, resulting in him losing our bus tickets - not a problem but he was very embarrassed! At Machu Picchu we had a tour from our illustrious guide, which in typical style was more about the links between Inca and modern Quechua culture. This was much more interesting than someone just reeling off facts about the buildings there, as other guides seemed to be doing. He explained how the old religion is still well practised in the area, before rushing off to his daughter's birthday party. The youngest member of our group asked our gude to make the llamas spit on demand; Sarah discovered they did indeed spit when she was narrowly missed by a loud projectile! We wandered around Machu Picchu and walked up to the Sun Gate, joining loads of other people sitting up there for over an hour taking in the awesome view of the area and ruins. We enjoyed looking around and the landscape was truly spectacular, but we weren't overwhelmed by the ruins. From Aguas Calientes we got a very very slow train almost to Cusco, but track work meant another hour and a half on a bus. The trek was awesome, but it was also nice to be back in Cusco.

View of Salkantay mountain from our campsite

Us, our guide Cocaman, and another walker after climbing to the lake

Salkantay at sunset

The switchbacks prior to crossing the Salkantay pass

Salkantay Pass, 4650m

Peru's best shopping centre...

Our first view Machu Picchu from the track

Cloud surrounding Machu Picchu at dawn

One friendly baby llama

Machu Picchu

The obligatory tourist shot!