I thought the central bus station Buen os Aires was much more messy, but it is not. You are in the waiting room and ttendi, Patagonia. Get on co lectio , there are 19 hours of travel in front of you. You sleep, you wake up, the noise is always the king or stess o: heavy wheels on the asphalt, the roar of padding in the head, and inside you and you in the colectivo, the colectivo into the landscape. The eyes they begin their tireless work as always, realizing for the first the desert that finally won on the concrete in Buenos Aires.
has never ventured much your eye? The vastness of the esplanade ata is cherished only by the tufts diagnosis of shrubs and softer than sheep. It seems property, this large, but it is only a tense balance between the wind and the earth, the same wind that if you imagined mpre between houses and narrow crevices, deceitful and lazy along roads or paths, always confined to himself, and that here instead buy a new dimension of greatness and dominion. It is a broad and bold wind that blows here in P atagonia. And the fo rma plant and will suggest the only way to live with this force, or seduced.
The kilometers run and there you are relentless in Puerto Madryn, Peninsula Valdes there you are, and then the cold, the beach, the Atlantic, the pink flamingos that if you run with stands near the anus flight and if you mbra to be in another world or , and then the bal ene, which are giants and puffing as locomotives and ch and
jump, jump in the sea because full hormonal explosion that nearly explode too, and then they are like the guanaco llama m blade are not, and you thought armadillos were Gigant ie instead are small and perfect sculptures of the cornea, and Then the penguins, which are coming but have not yet arrived. And then you only have time to draw breath and think that you want to go even further south, and here you find yourself back on the giant two-story that swallows the ASFA lto, dipped again in the Patagonian steppe.
The distances between the cities increasing as the desolation. Do you think that is the 'only arid landscape full of puddles. You stop at the Rio Gallego s, a n right 
obtained, right at the boarding house to the side, Ms Ines, who loves Italy, who believes in God but because they killed rite shot on the way to rob the truck, and why God is great and will take revenge, and without God, life would be a hell . Faced with this disarmingly obvious you astonished to find you totally agree, and go to sleep, hoping that God decides to take revenge on that very night. And in the morning, at dawn, drove off. The coach is smaller but the time of St. harbor many more. The desolation, melancholy, feelings that surround you and breathe through the pores, but in the opposite direction, from outside to inside, and mix your twenties and the feeling of freedom that thousands of miles of asphalt and gravel will have distilled a result of sweet and fiery impôt nte onnipoten za.
and so that ends the mainland, in front of you crossing the legendary or Strait of Magellan, a rusty barge, just space for buses and a few trailers and a small bridge where salts, almost running not feel the wind that cuts the face not feel the cold
hands asleep, you hear your own cry (you're crying?). And landings, Tierra del Fuego, the same land that you remember from when you were little because I was told that was cold, but for you it was still the land of fire, and so I realized that the ice can burn. Other hours of steppe and then suddenly the landscape changes ia because in the southern Andes, Tierra del Fuego are born, die or maybe just into the sea, at the point where Pacific and Atlantic cancel each other, and where, many years ago, was built as a penal colony that bears the name of Ushuaia, the end of el world. But for you that you get there, they do not, you to the end of the world and beyond, is Cape Horn, and Antarctica, but you have to settle for ' Isla H, piece of land in the Beagle Channel, because it is winter and this season n on more than one can dare. Too dangerous.
So you do not or other body is not going in circles around the city and ac happy with the people you meet tend to be alcohol. As Jeremia. Do you know him in the bathroom, you you are drained from the shower, he came suddenly, it is wetting and combing several times (and apparently without a purpose) to carry his gray-white. And you r deposit continuous flow, without introductions, who lives in the hostel, that his wife has kicked house, looking for work, I would open a hardware store, I already have the material in a cellar nearby, perhaps a friend will grant me space in his small Kiosco right at the end of this road, but right now I live for the day ata, but need not be so bad, I have to known until some time ago a shepherd, a pastor of the Apostolic Church Evangelical, working with the homeless, offers him something to eat and coprirs the, you know, here is really cold, and I too would be a pastor, I began to to study the Bible, but you know my name? .. Like the prophet Jeremiah. Now I have to go, so much pleasure. And you find yourself thinking, now completely dry, so that a scene he had seen only one film (Hatred) and that perhaps the Patagonia is enough for this movie .. and then pull the breath again and back on the road.
Up north, but this time you do it to the east, the Rue is no longer 3 but the 40, and to your left, finally, the Andes are a butt and where look can find shelter. And while you're thinking that these mountains will accompany you in the coming months, you realize that the vegetation has changed and that the shrubs have given way to groups of dead trees, gray and ghostly. Absolutely in line with the Patagon ia.
obtained, right at the boarding house to the side, Ms Ines, who loves Italy, who believes in God but because they killed rite shot on the way to rob the truck, and why God is great and will take revenge, and without God, life would be a hell . Faced with this disarmingly obvious you astonished to find you totally agree, and go to sleep, hoping that God decides to take revenge on that very night. And in the morning, at dawn, drove off. The coach is smaller but the time of St. harbor many more. The desolation, melancholy, feelings that surround you and breathe through the pores, but in the opposite direction, from outside to inside, and mix your twenties and the feeling of freedom that thousands of miles of asphalt and gravel will have distilled a result of sweet and fiery impôt nte onnipoten za. and so that ends the mainland, in front of you crossing the legendary or Strait of Magellan, a rusty barge, just space for buses and a few trailers and a small bridge where salts, almost running not feel the wind that cuts the face not feel the cold
hands asleep, you hear your own cry (you're crying?). And landings, Tierra del Fuego, the same land that you remember from when you were little because I was told that was cold, but for you it was still the land of fire, and so I realized that the ice can burn. Other hours of steppe and then suddenly the landscape changes ia because in the southern Andes, Tierra del Fuego are born, die or maybe just into the sea, at the point where Pacific and Atlantic cancel each other, and where, many years ago, was built as a penal colony that bears the name of Ushuaia, the end of el world. But for you that you get there, they do not, you to the end of the world and beyond, is Cape Horn, and Antarctica, but you have to settle for ' Isla H, piece of land in the Beagle Channel, because it is winter and this season n on more than one can dare. Too dangerous. 
So you do not or other body is not going in circles around the city and ac happy with the people you meet tend to be alcohol. As Jeremia. Do you know him in the bathroom, you you are drained from the shower, he came suddenly, it is wetting and combing several times (and apparently without a purpose) to carry his gray-white. And you r deposit continuous flow, without introductions, who lives in the hostel, that his wife has kicked house, looking for work, I would open a hardware store, I already have the material in a cellar nearby, perhaps a friend will grant me space in his small Kiosco right at the end of this road, but right now I live for the day ata, but need not be so bad, I have to known until some time ago a shepherd, a pastor of the Apostolic Church Evangelical, working with the homeless, offers him something to eat and coprirs the, you know, here is really cold, and I too would be a pastor, I began to to study the Bible, but you know my name? .. Like the prophet Jeremiah. Now I have to go, so much pleasure. And you find yourself thinking, now completely dry, so that a scene he had seen only one film (Hatred) and that perhaps the Patagonia is enough for this movie .. and then pull the breath again and back on the road.
Up north, but this time you do it to the east, the Rue is no longer 3 but the 40, and to your left, finally, the Andes are a butt and where look can find shelter. And while you're thinking that these mountains will accompany you in the coming months, you realize that the vegetation has changed and that the shrubs have given way to groups of dead trees, gray and ghostly. Absolutely in line with the Patagon ia.
It can throw up a mountain so much ice?
Watching from afar Perito Moreno is the first question takes shape. And then you find yourself in front of him, and hear the crackling . And then you find yourself in a boat below him, and I feel that moves, prehistoric animal, spitting up to rid the lake below the ice, iceberg cemetery from which you're observing. But it is when you're over him, when you have tamed and conquered with the crampons feet, which will reveal its secrets. Crystals, streams, lakes, blue, blue crevasses, sculptures bizarre .. and you seem to be in a fairy tale carved by Gaudí.
Just enough time to absorb the wonder. Just enough time to appreciate the gesture of Ricardo, old Panadero of Welsh origin, which offers some of his work (decisam institution 
the empanadas more good in Patagonia! ) so proud of the reasons for our trip, not as a proud Argentinian, but as a human being. Just enough time to find that the Route 40 further north and unusable and you'll have to go back and pick up 3, which means 42 hours of road to Bariloche, your next step. And this time not only throws you hold your breath but also u bit n ' the teeth, you decide to break the journey back to Puerto dryn But, because this time the penguins have arrived and you can finally see them, watch, imitate, thousands . and dates on colectivo happy and a little 'penguin, and in the other 19 hours of road you still can see the multitude of shapes that the clouds will take, but the difference compared to the trivial discovery, is the perfection outlines the background without end. And you wake up you're again in the Andes, San Carlos de Bariloche, rich, snobby and cold. And the name of his vast and deep lake, Neuel Huapi, you sound like a threat of revenge on those who have usurped those wilds exterminating the natives. With a flash addresses the last 22 hours by bus to separate you from Buenos Aires, his eyes still glued to the landscape and when you have a freewheel between asphalt ep oesia.
the empanadas more good in Patagonia! ) so proud of the reasons for our trip, not as a proud Argentinian, but as a human being. Just enough time to find that the Route 40 further north and unusable and you'll have to go back and pick up 3, which means 42 hours of road to Bariloche, your next step. And this time not only throws you hold your breath but also u bit n ' the teeth, you decide to break the journey back to Puerto dryn But, because this time the penguins have arrived and you can finally see them, watch, imitate, thousands . and dates on colectivo happy and a little 'penguin, and in the other 19 hours of road you still can see the multitude of shapes that the clouds will take, but the difference compared to the trivial discovery, is the perfection outlines the background without end. And you wake up you're again in the Andes, San Carlos de Bariloche, rich, snobby and cold. And the name of his vast and deep lake, Neuel Huapi, you sound like a threat of revenge on those who have usurped those wilds exterminating the natives. With a flash addresses the last 22 hours by bus to separate you from Buenos Aires, his eyes still glued to the landscape and when you have a freewheel between asphalt ep oesia. 
PS We added a small video at the end of the previous post "Garage Olimpo". For one.
0 comments:
Post a Comment