Ushuaia

"Are you sure this is it? Feels a bit like...Macau, doesn´t it?"


"We couldn´t possibly be anywhere else. But yes, it´s not what I had in mind."


That´s often the problem with arriving in a city late at night. And so, for me at least, the end of the road, the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia didn´t provide the 'promised land' moment I had anticpiated all along. The first landmark of note was a casino. The second, a brightly lit HSBC conspicuously close to the casino. Perhaps the fatigue was finally telling, as the journey down from the car ferry had taken much longer than it should. 

Chile must realise that it has drawn the short straw as far as Tierra del Fuego´s partitioning is concerned. The top half (Chile´s half) is as lifeless a place as I have ever seen. Maybe there is oil benath it all. Once across the border, the approach to Ushuaia is a dramatic climb that twists and turns through a snow-capped mountain range before the sprawl of lights down below makes you realise that Ushuaia is not the remote fishing village at the end of the world you pictured in your head. It is Tourism Central and a huge money spinner for Argentina.

Its unique location has given the city a life-long winning hand as people will come here from far and wide for the ski slopes (winter only), mountain climbing, antarctic cruises (summer only), or like us, arriving from a 3,000km pilgramage just to say they have been here.  


Fatigue was also to blame for us checking into the monstrously overpriced 'Celine Hotel and Spa'. Check-in at 11pm. Check-out, unforgivingly, at 10am. If you are 5 minutes late, they call your room. If you are 10 minutes late, they call the police.

"How was your stay at the hotel, sir?"

"Dunno, barely had time to take a shit."

The remaining two nights were spent far more comfortably at a 3-star that had everything we needed, including coffee that was hot. A lesson learned here. Buenos Aires excluded, expensive hotels will leave you feeling knifed because the standard of service (and breakfast) is much the same. Only difference is the receptionist wears a suit and is trained to smile while saying 'no' to your every request.

Two overcast days had robbed us of the mountain peaks and any inclination to explore. We did, however, make up for it by catching the Train to the End of the World, much touted in guidebooks as a not-to-be-missed experience. The picture i had formed in my mind was the Orient Express. What it was, in fact, was a toy train filled with families and childen - and us. A bit uncomfortable, really, but at least they had wine and champagne because we had first class tickets for the entire 2km, 1mph journey that seemingly would never end. 

"All I want to do is get off this train."

Day 3. What a difference the sun makes. Finally we saw the side of Ushuaia that makes it worth bothering with. A great day tearing around the mountains and one final blast of Christian rock photos completely changed our mood. 

Can you believe this poster? The cheek of it.

By pure fluke we also found a Che Guevara-themed seafood restaurant that served up king crab, clams, mussels and our first taste of ceviche - South America´s answer to sashimi - beforwe catching the 5pm flight back to Buenos Aires.