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After celebrating my birthday in Bariloche by climbing Cerro Campinario, gazing at the incredible view of the Lake District for ages, walking through Parque Nacional Llao Llao and eating the biggest and juiciest steak ever, washed down with lots of strong red wine I finally escaped to the small town of Esquel. Why? There is nothing in this small town to attract visitors other than a small and virtually disused train station that signals the terminus of the Old Patagonian Express, and so following Theroux's footsteps (sort of) I gave it a little visit.  It also gave me time to relax as I spent the next few days in isolation.  I used Esquel as a base to visit the non-nuclear "hippie" town of El Bolson, famous for its market.  Undeservedly so though as it contained only about fifteen stalls, although including two excellent, cheap food stalls.  I also visited the Welsh village of Trevelin from Esquel.  Its crazy to think that there are a whole host of Welsh speaking villages dotted across Argentinian Patagonia.  In fact, Welsh is a really fashionable language to learn out here.  Unfortunately Trevelin on a Sunday wasn't the best example of this and the only signs of Welshness were the dragon windcock in the plaza, a few clapped out Cortinas and Rovers and a set of stalls flogging rich cakes in the howling winds.  Of course I felt it my duty to buy a slice of the tastiest looking one.

View of the Argentinian Lake District from Cerro Campinario

From Esquel I crossed to the Atlantic coast to Puerto Madryn, famous for its whale watching.  Together with some people from my hostel I hired a car to spend a day chasing whales.  On the way to the national park at Peninsular Valdes we stopped at a beach where the whales were swimming just twenty metres off the beach.  This was an amazing sight, especially as it was a mother and child combo! Our luck held out as we took a boat ride in the bay and were constantly encircled by whales, one of them even bumping the boat, it was so close I could almost touch it.  Along with the whales the national park also houses fat, lazy elephant seals and cute (but slightly boring) penguins. Along with a picnic, this made for a very enjoyable day.

Whale tail, Peninsular Valdes

Close to Puerto Madryn is the city of Trelew, famous for its Paleoentological museum, which we got in to for cheap as we pretended to be Argentinian residents.  This made an interesting stop on the way to Gaiman, another Welsh village though this one more authentic.  We had afternoon tea in a Welsh teahouse which, although very expensive, was amazing - lots of tea, a plate of tarts, a plate of cakes and a plate of bread, cheese and scones. The room was full of souvenirs, mugs, tea pots, guns, and god knows what else, all from Wales (well except the mug from Bristol but that's close enough!) The other interesting sight in Gaiman is El Desafio, a theme park made from rubbish by an old eccentric conservationist and his completely bonkers wife.  Creative with bottles and cans though.

After a 17 hour trip via Rio Gallegos I got to El Calafate, a tiny town close to the Moreno glacier.  I spent my time there with a French girl called Virginie who doesn't speak English and a German girl called Janine who doesn't speak Spanish, I was the translator. The glacier was one of the most outlandish sights I have ever seen, it looked like something from the planet Hoth in Empire Strikes Back! It is a multi-media experience as well because you can hear the glacier cracking as it melts and the noise when a piece falls off is deafening.  Its OK though because it grows by two metres a day and this is equal to the amount that falls off and therefore it remains constant. I hope my photos justify the views! To celebrate such an amazing trip we spent the night watching a guy play guitar in a cosy pub called 'Don Diego de la Noche', worth visiting just for the name! The only blot on the experience was that some cheeky scally stole my shoes and so I am down here in Tierra del Fuego at the very start of spring in my flip-flops.
 

Perito Moreno glacier

In order to get to the worlds southernmost city it required a second sortie into Chile.  A return from homely Welsh signs to sinister German ones and an strange Croatian presence. This was OK though as it gave me a chance to leave off the dulce de leche for a while (an Argentinian obsession, its like caramel but gets put on everything, its popular all over South America but Argentina is the epicentre) although it did mean returning to a country obsessed with those caramel nuts that people flog in Leicester Square.  Go home, no one wants your nuts! My first stop in Chile was Puerto Natales, a small town on the banks of the Last Hope Sound.  It was really relaxing on Sunday and the town was dead at lunch time (probably everyone was eating their roast dinner) but later in the afternoon the front was packed with couples and families strolling along. For my part I sat and threw rocks and sticks in the water. From here I visited Punta Arenas, the only big city the Magallanes.  The most interesting sight in town is the cemetery, grandiose in a style imitating the Pere Lachaise in Paris. Some of the tombs were so elaborate that they had more ornaments inside their case than my Nan has in her front room.  I also had a lovely guest house and the owner was so nice she knocked money of my bill because I helped her to wash up! I really enjoyed both Puerto Natales and Punta Arenas, more so than perhaps anywhere else in Chile other than Pucon.

And so from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, allegedly the worlds southernmost city, but I dispute this as it doesn't have a cathedral.  Also it isn't actually that far south.  Because the world is top heavy its actually roughly the same parallel south as Scotland is north. If that makes sense. Its not even that nice a place, a small town but not as welcoming as its Chilean cousins Puerto Natales or Punta Arenas, and a bit cold (especially without shoes) but fairly relaxing. I also had fun chatting to two women in a travel agents and discussing the attributes of the Amadeus GDS. Us travel agents know how to have fun!

But tomorrow I start on a 50 hour bus ride all the way to Buenos Aires.  For just fifteen or twenty pounds more I could fly it in three hours but where is the fun in that? Good news though....apparently the thief had a conscience and handed my shoes back.  They are currently in Buenos Aires with my French friend and I will be re-united with the smelly things in just a couple of days!