The Land of Fire is cool!

Santiago was pleasant enough for what time I spent there (I'll be back). Rooting out a restaurant recommended in the Lonely Planet Guide - Azul Profundo, I think - I treated myself to salmon marinaded in lemon and then shark with razor clam sauce. The sauce was a little overpowering, but the shark was done to perfection.

Up at 6.15 for a flight at 9.05, I was all set when the zip on my bag refused to work. Those crucial seconds (minutes?) nearly cost me. I didn´t perfect the back straps on the backpack before leaving, so it was not a snug fit. This meant I couldn't really walk or run as fast as I wanted and needed, for as I got near Moneda, the bus stop, I saw not one but two airport buses pull away. I noted, however, that they were going away from Alameda (Avenue O'Higgins, to us) though I knew they must come on to it. Taking a chance I turned down a run away from the direction they had gone and sure enough I picked one up as it came back; it had just gone around the block to turn. I made the flight, though if it was classed as an International flight, which it is going from Chile to Argentina, I probably would have been far too late for check-in. In what I presumed was an unresolved aspect of the feud between the two countries over Tierra del Fuego, the flight was listed as domestic, so again I was in time (it's probably more to do with taxes).

There were two stops down from Santiago to Ushuaia, so the flight was 6 hours long. LAN Airlines have a great liking for sandwiches, sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and tea, but all sandwiches are premade and so loaded with butter. I don't eat butter. I existed on a diet of yoghurt, chocolate cake and bread snacks, the other parts of the meals. Not having had any breakfast before leaving the hotel, I even trimmed the protruding cheese from the sandwiches, I was that hungry. When we did have our one hour airport stop towards the end of the journey, I got a small pack of tuc-type biscuits (there was only a souvenir store available). It was when we got back on the plane that the bread snacks came out. I got my carbohydrates at any rate.

Flying into Ushuaia is stunning. Huge snowcapped mountains background the small city. Coming over the sea little spots of white can be seen under the surface. I thought these might be dolphins or something, but when I saw three huge dark shapes moving by beneath the sea, I understood what sea mammals might look like. The white dots must have been rocks.

The airport was small, but a lot better than some of the Irish regional ones. We had to fill in our customs documentation on the plane, but some French old folk evidently didn't get the message and insisted on jumping the queue once they had filled them in at the airport. For some reason we have to declare if we have over 10000 dollars or a mobile phone. Ushuaia is a tax free zone, so I presume it's in case we buy a phone on the way back. The stern looking soldier standing by the immigration booth turned out to have lived in Sydney and proved to be helpful when I was trying to find my transfer.

Ushuaia will not win any awards for architecture. Every house is fairly ramshackle and as my taxi made its way into a fairly ramshackle neighbourhood I began to have doubts about my guesthouse accommodation. I needn't have had. Casa de Alba is a small, but clean and cosy establishment. Alba initially seemed shy, but her son, William sat me down, gave me tea and spent around half an hour describing the city, what treks there were, and how safe the whole place was. It was obvious he was proud of his home town and he has a right to be. Whatever about the manmade architecture, the location is simply amazing.

Looking out from my room the snowcapped mountains alternately flashed or hid in the sunlight or mist. The weather here is very changeable and after a sunny welcome it soon rained quite heavily. My room was just beneath the roof, something I quite like. Now I understand partly why; I like the sound of the rain. Most roofs here have a metal surface and the percussive shock of the rainwater was very comforting. I suppose there's nowhere quite like Ireland for preparing you for the weather. Once it stopped the second time, it stopped for good. Huge puddles lay everywhere, but the day was no colder than a good Irish winter's day. And it was bright. Seven o'clock I headed out and it was as bright as midafternoon.

It was an easy 15 minute walk into the 'city centre'. As usual there was the soccer pitch with the usual contingent of school kids (they all have jerseys). The walk went right along the coast and though there are a lot of stretches of ground dug up and being developed, it all reminded me bizarrely of Bray, Bray with the Andes behind it. I felt very, very at home and even the multitude of Azteccy faces seemed very familiar.

Ushuaia is constructed as a grid with Avenue San Martin as the main street (everything, as William told me, is on San Martin). One way streets alternately crisscross the horizontal roads, one left the next right. After a while you look to see which way the cars are parked to indicate where the traffic will come from (no green man here). San Martin itself put me in mind of a down at heel Boulder (Denver); there are the parkas, the occasional wooden shop fronts, the four by fours, the camping and ski shops and the clear presence of the mountains behind it all. No shortage here of internet cafes, though the connection is dodgy.

After my breadstick diet I was a little hungry and the prospect of "All you can eat" was very tempting, particularly when they are offered at 25 pesos (less than a tenner). There are the upmarket restaurants selling crab at 55 pesos and then the ordinary, but still fairly impressive all-you-can-eaters. The latter all had huge spits with lamb, chicken and beef roasting around a huge log fire. In the end this tempted me too much and I succumbed.

La Rueda (the wheel?) had its own open oven, but none of the roast was ready when I arrived. I got a litre of Argentinian beer and helped myself to the wide range of salads etc.. They have a great liking for Creedence Clearwater Revival here, so I tucked in accompanied by the CCR sound. I nearly overdosed on the salad, but luckily I had room for more when the roast became available. Chicken, chorizo and lamb nearly did finish me off, but I had to go back to have some of the beef. Then I saw a sign warning of a penalty for leaving food, 2 pesos! It was a matter of honour and okay, I confess there were one or two chips and a rind of beef, but I did a good job.

Looking around me, it suddenly hit me where I was. This was the end of the world, the land of fire, the southernmost city in the world. I nearly cried at the thought, though that might have been more due to the beer than any sentimentality. Nevertheless it is amazing to think of where I am, so far from everyone and so close to a world more of Shackleton than Shakira.

I finished up, left the restaurant (it was still bright), and entered an Internet cafe to try to find my Santiago accommodation. The connection was slow and the place warm; I began getting irritable. It was when the booking page hung that I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over me. It was 11 o'clock (2 am Irish time) and I was shattered. Closing down everything I went home. Dark now, it was as William said, so safe you could bring your camera anywhere.

It has to be said it felt more like a suburb than a city as I walked home. And again it felt very, very comfortable. Of course, it's easy to feel like this as they enter their summer; what must it be like in winter.

I should not have eaten so much so late and I paid for it with indigestion. Sleeping with antacid sweets in your mouth isn't fun. Nevertheless the room was warm, the bed hard but comfy and I did get some sleep.

Alba was very chatty this morning and showed me a book on shipwrecks. Then to further heighten my enthusiasm for the trip she told me of a sailing trip a few years back that saw thirteen people thrown into the water by a falling iceberg. One couple suffered broken legs and cuts, but came back the next year to do it all again. Funnily enough it does heighten my enthusiasm. I hope I'm not disappointed. Anyhow the bags have been dropped off and now I only need to turn up in 2 and a half hours.