The Patagonian Airport Cat

On Sunday morning we get just a short lie-in before heading to Jorge Newbery airport for our flight to El Calafate in Patagonia. The Irishman is here to stay for 10 days and we figure we should make the most of it and go to Patagonia since neither of us has ever been. I've planned it all down to the last detail.

On arrival 3 1/2 hours later in the tiny airport of El Calafate (I say tiny, but it's like Heathrow compared with Santa Fé airport), we are greeted by a black cat, to whom the airport is evidently home. The cat is on duty surveying the arrivals, though I don't think he has any drug-sniffing capabilities, sadly. I love cats, so El Calafate immediately enters my good books.

The Calafate airport cat

We have pre-booked and paid 190 pesos each for the return bus from El Calafate to El Chaltén, where we're planning to spend the next two days hiking. However, our pre-booked bus isn't due to depart until 18:30, and it is only 15:40. I feel a bit scammed by the tour operator I used in Buenos Aires because there are buses leaving from the airport immediately and we only need to pay an extra 50 pesos each. Not ones to dwell (well, not usually), we say 'sod it' and pay the extra money to arrive earlier. We still don't end up leaving until about 16:30, but hey ho.

A few hours of beautiful scenic driving later (ok, ok, I slept through it...) we pull up outside Estancia La Quinta, a smallish one-storey converted ranch hotel with lots of land, nestled behind a mountain. A big white dog comes bounding up to meet us and soon after we're greeted by its owner, Alfredo, a warm, friendly man with good English, who is expecting us. We're planning to go hiking tomorrow so he talks us through the best walking routes and asks if we want a packed lunch. We do. 

We dump our stuff in our basic, cosy, heated rooms and accept a free lift from Alfredo into the town. You can walk the half-hour or so trip into El Chaltén but we're tired and pretty hungry and the drive is only five minutes.

We have a delicious meal at La Tapera, a wooden-lodge style restaurant that seems to be the main restaurant in town. I've heard lamb stew is the Patagonian thing so I fill myself with hot liquid and meat for the day of hiking ahead of us. It's cold outside and we're wrapped up in ski jackets and hiking boots, so the open smoky fire in La Tapera is more than welcome. 

The view of Fitz Roy and Cerro Torres from El Chaltén at sundown

The Road to Santa Fé

I had to travel to Santa Fé city in nearby Santa Fé province for a conference - my first real adventure outside Buenos Aires. The trip starts with a taxi after work to the local airport, Jorge Newbery. The taxi ride immediately reminded me of the marathon, as it was around the back of this airport that I ran, somewhere around kilometre 22...

The view from the departures area is the first glimpse I've had of the Rio de la Plata, or River Plate, since I last came to Argentina in 2008, and it's awesome. It seems to go on forever and could easily be mistaken for the sea, were it not for the murky brown colour.

The River Plate

I arrive at my hotel in Santa Fé at around 6pm after the short flight and marvel at the view from my window. The city is dilapidated with way fewer high rise buildings than Buenos Aires but it has its own character. It's a scorching day and I'd like to venture out but it'll be getting dark soon and I have work to do.

Early evening - Santa Fé city

I work for a few hours and then go to the hotel 'gym' for a workout. I say 'gym' because it's just a tiny, cramped area on the top floor with two old running machines and a rowing machine and little else. The air conditioning is also on extremely low so I'm sweating like a monkey by the time I finish my 5k run on the treadmill, but the view is awesome. 

I change into my swimming gear in the tiny little restroom and head out onto the rooftop terrace to jump in the small, round pool. One man is just getting out and I have the entire place to myself as the sun sets. The pool is just big enough to swim about three strokes from one side to the other, or swim around in a circle if so inclined, so I do that a few times before floating on my back in the warm water and gazing at the stars. This is the kind of thing I imagined when I dreamed of coming to Argentina and, for the first time in ages, I relax.

Santa Fé by night

Finally, I order grilled chicken on room service and head to bed. Tomorrow I have a conference to go to.