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Our bus arrived half an hour earlier than scheduled and we stepped out of the heated interior into a wind that sped off the glacier at the top of the mountain and sliced through every layer of clothing we had on. We then had to walk the streets of a town that would only start waking up 3 hours later in an attempt to find the home of our couch surfing hostess. Houses with no numbers in icy cold conditions do not have a particularly welcoming feel to them. We eventually found her home as it had her name on the window. It was so much warmer in the house, which was opened to us by another sleepy-eyed Brazilian couch surfer who was sleeping on the floor next to the heater. It soon became apparent that we would be 2 of 6 couch surfers and 3 additional boarders who would share the space of this incredibly hospitable lady. Pupi obviously loves people and has no issues about the invasion of her personal space.
Soon after everyone awoke we started out on a 10km hike up to the lakes at the foot of Mt Fitz Roy. We had gone about 1km when I told the rest of the party to go on without me and I would slog along behind them and catch up somewhere along the line. I met another lady along the way who was walking at my pace and we accompanied each other all the way to the first of the lakes. She remained there as I continued in my attempt to catch up with my party. Yeah right!!! Like that was ever going to happen....but hope springs eternal......just maybe they were resting somewhere and I would stumble upon them. What I have failed to say here, is that the scenery along this walk is some of the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life. The snow-capped peaks and the icy blue glaciers with the turquoise lakes all blend into the most magnificent landscapes which no camera can truly capture to reflect the essence of the experience. Let's get back to the plodding. I took to counting my paces to help me overcome the weariness that was beginning to set into the marrow of my bones and I can say with confidence that I walk an average of 1300 paces to every km. Now, let me assure you that had I realised that this hike was 10km one way and 10 back again, Graeme would have kissed my proverbial.... I would not have even bothered to set out to begin with. However, I have to say that I would have regretted missing what I now know I would have missed. I hit the 10km mark...still no sign of Graeme nor the other 2. I took my evidential photographs and then contemplated doing the next 2km straight upwards. I stopped after about 100m as my poor little spindles were crying about in agony. I asked some hikers returning how far I still had to go and they said another hour and a half. I stood for a good 5 minutes glaring at the upward slope and then decided that I had nothing to gain by dying an early self-imposed death and without a second thought I turned back to start the 10km walk back to the house. The last 3km were utter agony, but when I saw the Town below peeping at me through the trees, relief washed over me. However, setting my feet on the streets of El Chalten again was not as comforting as one would think, since another 2km had to be covered to get back to the house. I literally dug my walking pole into the pavement to slog my way back through the streets. I have absolutely no idea how I got home. But I did.
I fell into the shower and had to catch my feet as they tried to detach themselves from my body and run away, and then I fell onto my bed and lay there wondering whether I would ever be able to raise myself to a vertical position again. Needless to say, that day was the final nail in my hiking coffin!!!!! Graeme was not to be conquered though and while I lolled about the following day, he did another 20km hike to another glacier. But then he was uncomfortable and our third day was spent doing quiet touristy activities in town. We went to a jazz gig at a local eatery that night and had a really good time together over beers and a bottle of wine.
On our third day, we decided to do the very easy 3 km walk to the waterfall after the town stuff, but the wind was howling to such an extent and swirling up so much dust that we simply turned back and went home. That night I did my best to make as close to babotie mince as I could for the household and served it in savoury pancakes. It went down really well. We all decided on an early night at 23h30 since we were all leaving the following morning, except the French couple who were going to do another hike before bussing all the way to Bariloche that evening. Following morning, we all said our fond farewells and went our separate ways. Graeme and I both felt that even though Pupi could not speak a word of English, we had had a really amazing time in her home. We were part of a little family for 3 days and were even a little sad to say goodbye. But..... Perito Moreno....here we come!!!!!!
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