Bogota Airport and the Grooviest Army Band Yet

Snowboarding in the Andes

Me on day 1.

Snowboarding was one thing we'd definitely not counted on doing on this trip- what honest backpacker can afford to go the snow without resorting to ..urgh... working..., or living in a shoebox on top of 16 other 2 minute noodle eating snownuts? Well, apparently in Argentina, you can enjoy the slopes without resorting to a London student existence.

Sunrise at Penitentes.

Setting a new and horrible record, we got up at 5am to catch the 6 o'clock bus up to the resort. Arriving at the station we were greeted with the seriously unfunny news that the bus was full and we'd have to wait until 10 o'clock to make out way to snow-bearing altitudes. Not impressed, we taxied back to the hostel for more sleep and breakfast, and then got on a bus to Penitentes.

Dogs are everywhere.

After four hours of riding through a breathtaking landscape (dishearteningly, composed mostly of semi-arid desert without a blotch of white to be seen), we arrived slopeside. Here we found clear blue skies, pearly empty slopes and a hostel covered in snow. Without stopping to eat, we hired some gear and got out there. Luckily, our new friend Raphael, who had joined us on this mission from Mendoza, came equipped with 15 years of snowboarding experience, and was on hand to take over teaching Angie how to ride a board when my 'lessons' were clearly not working.

It was small and the hot water was broken, but the location was outstanding.

In line with the bottom of Angie´s collar, you can see the yellow roof of Hostel Penitentes.

The next two days we slid down various parts of the mountain, acquiring snow-legs and having loads of fun. The beginning and end of each day was highlighted by the incredible soreness that makes you wonder if its all worth it. On the second day, a storm sat within in view further down the valley, constantly threatening to cut everyone´s enjoyment short. By the end of the day seeing was becoming increasingly difficult, but we managed to make the most of it and stayed snowboarding until closing time.

That night the storm crept up the valley and by morning we were completely encased in white. Snow had been falling all night, and continued to float down on this, our last day in Penitentes and the day on which we were supposed to be heading back to something more closely resembling reality. As the morning progressed, the snow stopped floating down and started to cut through the air sideways, with increasing intensity. Rumours wafted that the last bus out of Penitentes until the following day would be leaving at 12 noon. Not wanting to miss our chance, we turned up at the stop a full twenty minutes early. At this time it was incredibly cold, and the bus stop was not an enclosed place, it was simply an area on the side of the road where you stood like a snowman squinting into the bleached distance praying that a bus would materialise from the fog at any moment. But by the time 1 o'clock rolled around we realised that the bird had probably flown without us.

Snowstorm from the bar.

Back to the bar to wait for a possible 5 o'clock bus. We waited for a full hour in the excruciating conditions, me on bus lookout and Angie taking refuge inside a phone booth. At 6 all feeling in our toes had gone, it was getting dark and the snow was lashing any exposed skin with icy ferocity. Back to the bar we went, along with our fellow stranded- Marc and Megan- to dry out, warm up, drink a beer and decide what to do next. We ended up in staying in a different hostel (one with running hot water) and once clean and dry, enjoying the feeling of being completely cut off from the rest of the world down below us.

Waiting for a bus that never came.

The next day the wind had stopped, but the snow hadn't. Conditions on the hill were less than ideal, but the promise of fresh powder waiting for me right below the chairlift compelled me to part with another AUD$70 (the cost of a lift ticket and gear hire) and spend another day punishing my body. Half a metre of delicious powder covered the slopes, and I spent the day with Marc and Megan attempting ridiculous jumps and enjoying the soft cushion of new snow every time I caught an edge.

Sodden and shivering (I was, Angie had spent the day inside next to a heater), we escaped Penitentes that afternoon thanks to a scheduled bus that actually turned up on time. The drive out was one of the most spectacular I have ever seen, lots of huge mountains covered in snow and a massive gorge that the bus skirted the edges of (and thankfully, never actually went over). A spectacular ending to an awesome few days.

Iguazu Falls

After a disgustingly early alarm (7am!) we caught a taxi to the Iguazu Parques Nacional, home of the fabulous falls. On the way our taxi driver gave us a short presentation on the falls, giving us the full rundown on where and wheno go, turning to face us and using both hands to demonstrate various paths and attractions on a flyer he had in the car. When we told him we were from Australia, he offered to smuggle us into Brazil the next day so we could see the falls from the other side (with my Australian passport, need an expensive visa for Brazil, Angie can come and go as she pleases). He assured us that he'd snuck Australians over before, and offered the koala swinging from the mirror as proof. Despite this, we declined.

Once inside the park, we navigated past tour operators, gift shops, cafes and market stallers and found our way to the jungle. The park is explored via a network of steel catwalks, so there's no chance of getting lost and even less chance of encountering large hungry cats. We did come across swarms of butterflies and packs of coati, but neither seemed interested in us.

Coati

The entire time we were inside the park, we could hear the low white noise of the falls. The first viewing platform:

The chunk of forest on the left is Brazil, and the falls next to it are Garganta del Diablo (Devils Throat). Isla San Martin is in the centre, with more falls on the right.

We spent the morning climbing up and down steps and catwalks gawking at the Western set of falls. We also jumped aboard a boat which took us right up to the impact zones of where all this water was coming down in such a hurry. The driver parked us right next two different sets of these continuous explosions, leaving us thoroughly soaked. The spray was so severe that we couldn't look in the direction of the water for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Angie is the blue speck at the top

Me and some water

In the afternoon, after a pleasant train trip through the forest we arrived at the catwalk leading to Garganta del Diablo, the main attraction. We walked for about a kilometre over the river, heading towards a cloud of mist slowly pulsing out of the middle of the water. Once on the viewing platform, the sound of tonnes of crashing water drowned out any other noise.



The horseshoe shaped mouth of these falls is a white vortex that seems to be sucking endless amounts of water away into nothing. It is a void- there is nothing down there as far as the eye can tell- just white oblivion. Pure sound and the odd shimmer of shadow are the only clues that this liquid chasm might have a base. The white extends through the canyon and up into the sky, and everyone so often spray rises up out of the depths and covers everyone on the platform. You feel very, very small peering down over this unimaginable power into nothingness.

Scary stuff

More photos soon...