Drive to the end of the world

After two years in Asia, it was time to move to a new continent. I landed in Ushuaia, in Tierra del Fuego Argentina, the last city in the south of South America, and nicknamed the city of "the end of the world". It promises ! 

48 hours of travel

And it will not have been easy to surrender. A first flight from Montreal to Toronto, then a long Toronto to Buenos Aires. A little before landing, the plane is brewing like never before in my life. No more sound is heard in the metal box, except for the wind outside and the motors which seem to force in a strange way. Passengers hold their breath whenever the aircraft loses altitude. For the first time, I feel like clapping when we land.

But I don't have time to breathe. I have to find a bus to change airports, in the rain and with my cardboard bicycle box. It may be the middle of the day, but the traffic in the Argentine capital is staggering. It takes me 2 hours to travel the little thirty kilometers that separate the two airports. And there I once again run into a strange bureaucracy where I literally have to go to 3 different places to re-register my bike. Nevertheless, I arrive at my doorstep just in time for my 3rd and final flight.

At least that's what I believe. The flight is delayed, then delayed again. Outside, it continues to rain heavily and lightning streaks across the dark sky. I wait. For 4 hours.

Then the flight is canceled.

I learn that the wait for good weather was so long that the flight attendants would have exceeded their working limit in one day. Five flights are therefore canceled at the same time, and all the luggage returns en masse to different carousels. I wait another hour to find mine.

It is 22pm, and my next flight is postponed to 4am. As my bicycle box is already quite empty, I decide to simply stay at the airport to sleep there for a few hours.

My tired box, finally in Ushuaia.

Ushuaia, at the very end of South America.

My flight Buenos Aires-Ushuaia finally takes off in the night, under a still raging sky. The plane is messing up again but I'm too tired to worry. I only wake up when the plane lands in the morning at Ushuaia. It took me almost 48 hours to get there. Definitely, I am at the end of the world.

Ushuaia

With joy, I quickly find Freddy, my German friend with whom I rolled in Tajikistan et in Burma. For his part, he has already driven for more than two months to get from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia. Daily life previously seemed monotonous after having rolled from Germany to Thailand, and he had made up his mind to go back on his bike as soon as he could. Knowing that I was coming to South America, he decided to join me.

Ushuaia, the city at the end of the world.

Freddy has already made contacts on the spot and succeeded in getting us invited to the "Centro austral de investigaciones científicas" (the CADIC). The research center hosts scientists from all over South America, the vast majority of whom are women. They mainly work in marine and terrestrial biology, archeology and geology. These scientists study the ecosystem on the spot, and live in apartments provided by the Center, a little behind the city and with a superb view on this one. The mountains in the distance proudly wear crowns of eternal snow on their peaks, while the valley is filled with houses of color. I have a certain feeling of being in Iceland, but in the southern hemisphere.

Clara, Colombian who lives in Ushuaia for her scientific research.

In this apartment, I have the chance to meet Clara, a Colombian from the mountains between the capital Bogotá and Venezuela. After doing her baccalaureate in her country, she moved to Buenos Aires for her master's degree, and now here for her doctorate. She counts bacterial concentrations in the Beagle Channel, just south of Ushuaia, to better understand currents and pollution. Coincidentally, this project is not far from that of Maria, another of our hosts, who is studying pollution in the rivers passing through Ushuaïa. The city may be a jewel surrounded by incredible nature and numerous glaciers, but it does not (yet) have a water filtration system. All wastewater therefore flows directly into the canal…

From the routine to the road

My bike back up and the groceries done, it's time for a new start. But this time to the North.

I spend the day removing and putting on clothes: gloves, hat, coats and various pants. It rains and then shines, there are strong winds, and not at all. I'm hot going up despite the temperature - summer! - around 5 degrees, and I freeze on the way down.

But it's nice to ride. And to regain this freedom after a month and a half at home and only travel by car.

The continent's first pass, a new coat, and the return of dishwashing gloves!

Freddy and I pass a few other cyclists on the way during the day. People who end their journey in the opposite direction to the one I'm about to do. Then we pitch our tents in an abandoned hut along the path, sheltered from the wind and the weather. I fall asleep thinking about all these new landscapes and cultures to discover ... All this news histoires à dormir dehors !

The beginning (or the end) of the Andes mountain range. It promises !

Friend Freddy, always so fast!