Ahoy and hello from the southerly sandy slightly soggy shores of Cape Town. I can say with some confidence that this has been sort of a flop of a blog so I think instead of trying to revive it I will deliver trip tales in another form-- namely the photographic one via FB. But some other publication form may arise as well! So for now, ciao and Mexico here I come!

"Contact!"

At long last! Good lord it has been a while, and my sincerest apologies because I have failed to deliver promised posts! So, with a hand that strikes each key with a degree of uncertainty, I wonder where to begin....

I'll rewind quickly. I am in Cape Town after nearly 2000km of road tripping from southern Botswana, the Tuli Block, where I finished the last month of my field guiding course. The course, which began at the beginning of March at a private game reserve near Kruger NP was outstanding. To give an encompassing description I struggle, but really the course was designed to make level 1 Field Guide Association  of Southern African certified guides. A guide which is certified to conduct vehicle bound game drives. And yes I can bloody shoot a rifle. Getting there was an intense process--long days, seven to eight hours of game driving every day, dust, snakes, sun (hot sun), lectures, bird watching, frogging, rocking, owling, cliff climbing, sunset viewing, star gazing, soul penetrating everything, frivolous and jovial, a serious good time!! The details, stories and nitty gritty in betweens are soon to come.

For me life is rocking. I promise you this is the most alive the young Tabacco has felt in a while. The perfect cocktail of learning, love, adventure, naughtiness, daring, nature and health to set me up on a small high for months. I am so blessed to be here now. Love to all friends and family, missing you a lot a lot. And a special shout to my UCSB-UCT friends, I am thinking of you guys every day. Trying to figure out my next movements which I shan't try to predict now.

Another bloody rough day in Africa!

More stories and accompanying photos to come.
XOXO
Tabacco

Return to the dark continent at sunrise!

I am excited to report that I will begin another southerly journey tomorrow. Botswana is the destination, safari guide training the occupation. Two months of bush living accompanied by an education in African naturalism (and armory training) that will result in my being qualified to lead on foot and drive game drives. Hoping to avoid: charging rhinos, rabid baboons, unseemly giraffes and black mamba encounters.

Please stay tuned for fun updates, though the frequency will be at best infrequent as we have no electricity, let alone internet at camp.

Lots of love and thanks to my supporting crew.

The Best Air

Hola from Buenos Aires! With almost half the country´s 40 million population coming to the big city has been quite shocking (most pleasantly) for me, transitioning from the company of giant torres, glaciers and guanacos.

Mike and I arrived here on the afternoon of the 28th after a 21 hour bus ride from San Martin de los Andes. San Martin, a more toned down Bariloche that comes to life in the winter, as it is another ski town was pleasant: streets with three story high ski condos, rose lined parks, still an overabundance of artesianal chocolate shops, and overpriced parrilla (traditional meat feasts, yum) experiences were to be had. We did not climb Volcano Lanin as we had planned because there was a special event in Buenos Aires we had to be here for.

As I sit here drinking coffee, eye goop probably still wet in the corners of my eyes, ears still ringing just a little, I will tell you!

As part of a global tour, Muse and U2 paired up for their 360 degrees tour. Last night was the first of three shows playing in Buenos Aires at the La Plata stadium.

It twas incredible!!! A sold out show that we managed to buy tickets to. It´s really still a mystery but somehow, we travelled 70km south of BA to go to the show, picked up our tickets and rocked out for 5 hours with Muse (Mike says they are one of the few bands that are really rockers these days, and you can tell so because when they play you want to go nuts with an air guitar) and U2. Those guys know how to entertain!!!

In the pit, in front of the stage I believe we had the best view of the alien space craft which they turned into a stage. This other worldly GIANT alien-lander looking stage was ridiculous!! I won´t go too in depth in the concert but they played all the classics, some new stuff, little Beatles and Bob Marley mash-up, politically charged with shout outs to Aung San Suu Kyi and the remaining prisoners of Burma, Bono is made of lasers (and swings from laser microphones) and the streets really don´t have any names (in the city of La Plata, as Bono remarked, they are indeed numbered, not named.)

So, yeah we had a pretty good night with The Edge, Bono and the rest of the crew.

I was so excited, I forgot to mention our delightful accommodations here in Buenos. We are staying with Mike´s grandfather´s childhood friend (a friendship of over 80 years!) who lives now with his wife in Buenos Aires. They are treating us so well, we are being taken care of most sweetly, advised on where to go, well fed, and overall, spoiled. The vista from their apartment looks over the river which separates Uruguay and Argentina. It is a beautiful home.

The day is young, and lunch is served! Ciao for now!

In summer's shadow in the rain shadow

Mike Ice climbing! Mike and I with Cerro Torre (glacier grande!)

]me in front of the glacial lake below the famed Cerro Fitzroy

Spring/fall equinox is upon us! Accomodation and food prices drop a little in direct correlation with the air temperature here in northern Argentine patagonia.

After 30 hours of bus travel and six blissful, exciting days in El Chalten we have relocated further north. Here we plan to go on a trek starting tomorrrow. Bariloche has a ton of chocolate shops and is nicely situated on a lake. It is also a ski destination and st. bernard's are its main mascot...some random facts of what has been a nice, but not overly exciting few days here. The bus ride was plain. It was long. It was 30 hours of partially paved road and plently of patagonian steppe (dry, dry land wit low growing shrubs, lots of dirt hills, long fence lines and some guanacos and flightless friends the ostrich equivalent, choiques). Fortunately, enough leg room and plenty of bathroom breaks!

El Chalten on the other hand was a treat! We did a simple trek, two nights (two cold nights... southern patagonia ice field chill) and three days. We hiked up to two amazing lake vistas at the base of Cerro Torre and Cerro Fitzroy... some fine spires known for their inability to be mounted with ease in the mountaineering and climbing world. Most incredibly was the glacier hiking experience we had. ICE WONDERLAND!!! after scrambling up and down the moraine on te side of the glacier for an hour and crossing a river via suspension cable and harness we strapped on crampons to walk on the massive, blue, white and brown Glacier Grande at te foot of Cerro Torre...a massive slab of ice smoot in its steepest parts, wrougt with fissures in others and chopped and crevaced at its terminus and was most vocal (low, rumblings followed by the sound of falling rock. Scared me silly when I woke up to it in the middle of the night). We hiked for some time, taking care to step over crevaces, crunching on te solid ice walking over small rocks and bits of debris as we went. There were blue tubes that lead witin, sink holes, faults and fissures.
After lunch we ice climbed, ice axes blazing wildly as I clung to the side of the sheer ice face!! The going was actually pretty easy and quite fun, it was a top rope situation, nothing really extreme, but I like to pretend I was on a 1000 foot frozen ice wall somewhere on the east side of the patagonian ice field, putting up a first ascent, free soloing (why not) to a glorious peak overlooking the vastness of barren iceworld around me.... ah yes, next time I am in Patagonia. Though in actuality, I hope I can actually trek on te ice field (third largest frozen mass of ice on this planet) next time around... good bit of down clothing and dinero required!
After our final day of hiking, which was over 12 hours long, we headed back into town for some pizza libre aka all you can eat pizza (highly delicious, even this far from Italy).

Off to bed, dreaming of guanaco and glaciers and grand vistas.

Steak and tango and polo lessons and some futbolllll to come in Buenos, le amo

Chaliiii

Valle Chacabuco, site of future Patagonia National Park

the skyline leading up to El Chalten
Lago General Carerra/Lago Buenos Aires (depends which side of the border you are on)
Guanacos in fine form
A shot from Conservacion Patagonica

We finally forded the frontera and are now sitting smuggly in southern Argentina. We are in the trekking capital of El Chalten, poised neatly at the foot of the stunning Cerro Torre and Cerro Fitzroy, two peaks renowned for their mountaineering and climbing offerings. Mike and I plan to do a trek starting tomorrow-- a two night, three day trek around the base camps of these areas.
The skyline these mountains project is stunning. When we drove in yesterday clouds floated around their peaks, obscuring them from view then moving away in the afternoon sun. It created a most angelic appearance as we watched quitely in the warm car. I believe going up there will yield a much different experience. The glacial faces shall be met, lakes admired and all in southern Patagonian weather, probably some rain and definitely some wind.

Our time at Conservacion Patagonica was delightful. Went on a two day trek, short but well worth the view and had some close encounters with guanacos (Camel\deer\mountain goat type animals with a most bizarre alarm call) amongst other things which I shall detail later.
Off to find more thermal layers!

Magic Glacier Spoon

As I promised in the last post I would write about our trek through Cerro Castillo. The account follows:

After a night in Coyaihque we boarded a bus headed south. Only, we were getting off early. I was awakened by the driver yelling "Las Horquetas Grandes!!!!" as the bus pulled over on the side of the road, hills on both sides, a river to our right, a small gravel tournout and a sign with a man hiking on it.

This was it. From there we began a 40+ km through hike that would take us south past the big and beautiful (and beastly) cerro castillo glacier.

The first day was mild. It was far, 13km but had hardly any impasses except some small river crossings. We hiked through forest (Langa or Nothofagus pumilio, for those who might care) and through valley, wondering where our special hike would take us in the coming days.

We made camp and said goodnight to cloudy skies that had yet to release their full bladders on us (that was the delight of the next two days). That was the first night in "Agua Bella" our almost waterproof tent.

The second day was "the most extreme day of my life".... after a short hike from camp we were standing looking at the convergence many streams into a great river, coursing through the valley in front of us. Tall spiers and glacier covered faces towered over us, causing us to wonder where the path went. one word: UP.

In addition, it had been a leisurely morning and leisurely afternoon, so we didnt really start on the trail til, oh, yawn, oh tea, another yawn, yes 1:45pm. So we pushed on, with some sense of urgency as the day light hours (though long in the southern summer) were limited.

We scaled the mountain face after coming out of a steep ascent through the forest. Crawling over rocks we slowly realized that we were going up and over what we presumed was a pass in front of us. The going was trying: on all fours at times, boots soaking wet from the river (although we were all all wet from rain) we crossed back and forth, we slowly progressed upwards (packs on our backs, Mikes probably about 50 pounds, mine a bit less... aka TOO Heavy!!!)

Upon summitting we discovered that we were going to cross an ice and snow field! Oh joy. It was 5pm by now and windy and raining. The pass was most breathtaking. We crunched by on the hardened snow and ice, and viewed a looming glacier overhanging the rock face to our right, one of several we would see on the trek.
The descent was difficult, scuttling down a steep hillside on scree (loose rocks and debris) required complete focus and attention because any misstep could lead to a slide and a broken ankle or God knows what. On our way down Mike spied a glistening object far from its natural home, its natural home being a drawer in your kitchen or mine. It was a spoon. Not just a spoon as Mike immediately recognized, it was his ´Magic glacier spoon!´which he vows to use on backpacking trips until "I lose it or it breaks."

An artifact of human life signifying that whoever had left their spoon had surely not passed there too far in front of us was a reassuring sign.
Reaching the treeline was like taking the first sip of water from a far off oasis in a 1000 mile desert. I hugged the first tree I saw. We trugged along the soft trail through the woods next to the river, which was now gushing, swelling with the water from all preceeding waterfalls, ultimately from the glacier, darkness accompanying.

We forded a waist deep ice cold portion of the river to get to the camp, following karins (directive piles of rocks) left by other voyagers. Mike took off his shoes in an attempt to spare his feet from total wetness. I plunged through, feet already soaked and not really having the energy to labor in taking on and off the boots and socks.
Another crossing, after we passed a trail sign for the camp ended up doing him in anyway. Water up and over the boots.
We made camp in the rain, it was dark and the forest thick around us. A simple meal of pasta, packaged sauce and dried mushrooms never tasted so good. All was wet except for the interior of our tent, refuge for the night and a welcomed end to what we thought was the conclusion to the most challenging day of the hike.

In the morning it still rained. Sheets of rain blew across the valley, from our forested lookout we could see the river coursing to the west, rapids formed at this point, I prayed we wouldn´t have to ford it.
We mobilized around 12pm. Filled with oatmeal and armed with layers and waterproof exteriors we charged on. We did not realize, from our photo of a map on my camera, that the topo lines once again scrunched together and read nearly 2000m, or that we would be passing next to the granddaddy itself, the gaping glacial face of Cerro Castillo (cerro meaning mountain, or spier) at 2675m high.

The going was fine at first, wet but fine. We crossed through more forest and stoppped for lunch in a protected site with young trees providing curled limbs for seats. We were headed up another pass, but it didn´t look nearly as steep the day before.
We could see after trudging upstream next to a relatively slow and shallow river (perhaps even just a stream) that we would be looking into the face of a glacier, perhaps passing close by it. Upon approach we were delighted to set eyes on the bluest of blue lakes fed by the glacial waters of the glacier high above. The glacier (blue and white and brown all over as I described it) was awesome. It hung, impossibly, like a tongue, too big for its mouth, edging out over the lip and off a steep 500 foot high face subject to the forces of gravity and possibly ice melt (meaning basal lubrication, meaning a faster rate of melting meaning a sooner end to its unfathomably long life). We peered at this lake from close up. Had it been a beautiful Patagonian day we would have been hot from the hike and would have perhpas dipped into this mystifying lake that seemed to possess magical qualities and was perhaps inhabited by a cold-loving swimming dinosaur or some other fabled beast.

We climbed a ramp of rocks that led us to a vista high above this lake. I though this was where we would begin our descent. I was quite simply, wrong. From atop our perch we saw the tiny town of Villa Cerro Castillo we would eventually end up at, a valley in the distance and the big and powerful Ibañez river. We saw a larger water body, possibly the ocean farther off yet. The far away clouds took shape and color and texture, giving us hope that the blank cloud of rain we were now enveloped in would break, giving us a break and possibly lifting some of the somberness that accompanied us on this wild trek.

We saw karins running up the spine of the mountain... and to our left, the edge which was presumably a cliff, likely meeting the ground thousands of feet below. I decided not to check.

We soldiered on up this ridge, the bluest of blue lakes radiating below us. As we climbed we realized we were becoming eye height with the glacier, Cerro Castillo. The folds of ice were visible, the brown rock and debris that dirtied the glacier's blue and white face became more clear, the mass of ice and snow that comprised the glacier, finally visible in its entirety. The wind was loud and blew in unpredictable gusts. The cold air chilled my face and hands. We summitted this terrific mountain that would not end only to discover our downward path funneled down the mountain via piles of rocks, giant rocks, small rocks, it was all loose scree. Shit.

The wind gusts blew off our pack covers and added to my uncertainty about this route. We were naive to come without hiking poles and especially without a map, totally unaware of the terrain, the ice fields, the intense altitude gains and losses and the scampering. I found out how much I loved flat ground, hot food, and my mom, so please, God, help us get down safely, I do not want to deploy my GPS device up here on the mountain, helicopters wouldn´t be able to land here anyway!

The hillside wore us out. It was hours of carefully placed footfalls, battling strong winds and occasionally butt sliding a ways on the loose footing. We had seen no one since the morning. As we descended further and further we searched for a trail that would redirect us from our rocky substrate to the soft soils, and a path perhaps, in the steep hillside of Langa forests around us. No such luck.

At some point, late in the afternoon. Weather was constant and our walk down the mountain had taken serious psychological toll. Mike began to lose enthusiasm and hope, I was already desperate. Where the hell was the campsite, our photo of map told us it was only 6ish km, not that far! It was getting close to dark by the time we finally exited the dry river bed and turned onto a trail. Mike said: I see camp!
I said: don´t joke with me like that
And then he was moving quickly, excitedly up over a *man made* (humans had been there before us!) log foot bridge and down a small hill into camp. We hugged, high fived, other Chileans in camp noted our elation and welcomed us.

The rain had miraculously stopped and we made delicious falaco toffles (falaffel tacos) with fish and cheese. Most interesting cuisine, but the tastiest ever. I was silly after two meager sips of whiskey and whisked myself into the tent around 9. I was intact, had seen the most epic glacier of my life up close and quite personally, was dry and sure that NOW I had had the most extreme two days of my life.

The rest of the route was purely peppery. We woke in the morning, leisurely had oats and checked and rechecked the route for the next day on our Chilean campsite neighbors proper map. We would be walking all the way into town on a nicely cut path, through slowly descending forest into ranchland and out on a dirt road.
It was delightful. Our packs were lighter (removal of food and drenched item weight) and our spirits lighter still.

The biggest treat on the way home, on the dirt road was the rippened Calafate berries which I was familiar with from past encounters. These were the best calafate berries yet. The resemble blueberries but are smaller and darker, their seeds are slightly tangy and they grow on a thorny bush (Berberis buxifolia) that can be a really prick.
They turned my tongue blue as I feasted regularly. I introduced Mike and he too delighted in their deliciousness and accessibility, aside from the ocassional dammit, of a thorn encounter.

We had made it. We set foot on the Carreterra Austral and nearly laid down to kiss the pavement (at least I did, Mike was more stoic about the rigor of the whole thing..optomistic, accomodating and ensuring safety as much as he possibly could, a good leader indeed).

Laced with glee we charged for the nearest hospedaje (hostel) which was Hebrew friendly. My body drank in the hot water as I showered, my soul the hot green cranberry tea we brewed in the afternoon, my mind totally awash with emotions, mostly stoked-ness at this point, but still swimming so hard from the mental rigor of the past few days´ tide that I wouldn´t regain control of it until sometime the next day.

Bliss set in and triumph and stories and recounting of pictures. On 7.50 US dollars per day we got the glacial experience, ice field trekking, steep hillsides, rocky river bottoms, chilled river crossings, Patagoinan weather, and all that jazz. A chart topper in many regards, I loved Cerro Castillo, I hate it, it scared me like nothing else. Obviously I will never forget it.

So, that´s the story.

Anchovies, cargo, trucks, oh and humans... ALL ABOARD!

Quellon, Volcano Corcovado on mainland
Since leaving quiet Quellon, a lot has happened. For one, we made the 32 hour ferry journey to Puerto Chacabuco. The seascape was exquisite. We spied volcanoes and spired mountain peaks frequently. The clear weather permitted us to see clearly and spend time lounging on the deck. On deck we were deilghted by the flooming of nearby whales! I am ashamed to say that I did not positively ID these mammals, but I lacked an insightful guide and no crew seemed to be able to provide any other information than "ballena, si es una ballena. que tipo? un ballena de color gris!" I too noticed that it was whale, a grey colored whale.

Glaciers abounded as we neared sunset on the second night. The outline of the mountains to the east and mounded islands to the west provided quite the contrast.

The accomodations, un butaca (meaning arm chair according to my dictionary) were less stellar (oh speaking of stellar.... quite the night sky view from the top deck. Lots to see if it were not for that pesky flood light atop our vessel). The Alejandrina, our vessel also housed anchovy, cargo and trucks. Passengers, well, its not about the passengers. We spent the night in and out of conciousness, plagued between reclining in the "arm chair" which was actually a stripped down version of an airplane seat and lying down across several seats and being probed by unfriendly metal screws it was not easy to decide how to sleep. The crying baby didnt help, nor did the constant chug of the engine and vibrations and fierce humming drone that ended up ringing in my ears and central nervous system for longer than the after-effects of most concerts.

So it wasnt glamorous, but it wasnt without redemptive value either.

From Puerto Chacabuco to Aisen to Coyaihque all on buses. Moderately priced passage and good timing. We arrived in Coyaihque and spent one night at a hostel. We dined on Pichanga, a Chilean dish that I think someone who is stoned would make.

The line of thinking would go something like this: I made french fries... what else should I add?

Going through the fridge they decide: hot dog, cooked lamb, chicken and melted cheese... and hard boiled egg. Going through the pantry they decide; pickled vegetables and mayonaise.

ta da. RANDOM.

That and a Dolbek, a Patagonian Ale, not bad.

As for Chilean cuisine... I am not the biggest fan. Lots of bread. Lots of mayo.

Some of the summer fresh fruit we were finding in the north was great too... nectarines and peaches and melons.

I havent really the time to detail our first full trekking adventure now, so I will save for now. Briefly though, it was amazing... up and over two mountain passes, eye level with gaping glaciers, the bluest blue lake I have ever seen, dumping waterfalls, raging rivers (and river crossings) scampering up and down scree faces, rainbow delights, ice and snow field crossing, some seriously sore quads and a million breathes of relief were had.

So, love and daring and all else from the south.

Yours in Chilean chaos,

CT

And next... on to Conservacion Patagonicas project site, the future patagonia national park to look around, tour, take notes and interview for my senior thesis project (and hike and backpack) and then a crossing to Argentina!!

donde esta el hospedaje mas bueno?

I am writing briefly from Chiloe Island. A place I have indeed been before (I also noted Darwin´s dislike of this island when he visited in the early 20th century...he called it a miserable hole which was suitable only for the most resilient of amphibians due to the high amount of rainfall it recieves year round) this time I am in Quellon, a tiny fishing town on the southeast corner. It is typical of other seaside chilean towns: dogs roam, tiny tiendas with fruits and foods populate every street, there is a central soccer pitch and some crumbling abandoned infrastructure, fissured sidewalks with discarded box wine containers piling up in alley ways, artesania markets with ponchos and matte gourds, a walmart owned supermarket (named ¨Bigger¨), the scent of freshly caught fish, the cries of gulls, colorful fishing boats moored offshore, bobbing like corks in the gentle waters, and streets lined with azalias, roses and this time of year (to my great delight) fruit trees bursting with ripe red apples and plums.

Mike and I took a bus, about a six hour ride in quite comfortable quarters on a ferry from mainland to Chiloe to catch a ferry that leaves tonight for Puerto Chacabuco. We stayed last night in hospedaje Captain Don Luis. After some asking around and a recommendation from the Captain himself (who claimed it was un ambiente muy agradable y limpia, con toallas calientes... a nice, clean environment with hot towels... though there were no hot towels let alone hot water) buy pleasant enough!

We will be traveling for 36 hours with no sleeping accomodations (we hope to pitch the tent on deck) many degrees of latitude south to this remote port town in region XI of Chile. It is here that we will visit Conservacion Patagonica´s project site in the Chacabuco Valley. I hope to conduct some interviews and take photographs. We plan to backpack as well. It is my great hope that we will be able to hike from Chile into Argentina as well. From this juncture in southern Chile, the easiest option is east. More will be found out upon arrival, and don´t worry mom, I am getting the inside scoop from a local researcher and we will not be wandering aimlessly in vast, uncharted wilderness.

All is well otherwise. It was sad to say goodbye to my wildlands studies buddies. We parted ways yesterday and it is doubtful I will see them again in South America. But not doubtful that I will not see them again ever! A great group of people.. I will miss stargazing, speaking in nerd voices, washing dinner pots, hiking (and the inevitable falling that took place), jamming, swimming, cliff jumping, waterfall sliding, kayaking, rockthrowing, gooseberry bush trimming, running in the rain, traveling in the rain, huddling under the tarp against the rain, dancing, ´making the deal´ cram studying, book clubbing, temporary tatoo drawing, cooking and all else that took place on these 6 weeks of hyper speed ecological education. SO loved the whole experience, our wonderful teachers and my dear peers.

slight tear...

So, ahead we charge yet further south and more north of nearly nowhere.

Yosemite of Chile

Salutations from home base, aka Puerto Varas. We are back from our latest backpacking trip in the Cochamo Valley a glacier carved narrow vallley, lined with dense forests climbing the steep hillsides that are littered with waterfalls (I´d like to make waterfalls my speciality... I imagine a career where I must visit all major waterfalls and classify them under the christina-cascadas system). the walls around give the place a yosemite of chile like feeling... dark graphite and light grey. jagged, textures rock faces that are sometimes encircled by a condor flying over head, and though more than 10 feet in wingspan, they are but small dots far away. Cochamó valley is a climbing mecca and also a place where you can backpack into Argentina across the border, something I am keen on doing!

Our group did have the priviledge of seeing a condor quite upclose. it swooped below us and we were able to see its huge white tipped wings as it dipped next us and glided out of sight around the bend. YESS!

We hiked to waterfalls and got to waterslide down some of them. the water is more chilly than even than Santa Barbara´s slice of pacific coast... I´d say it was about 48 degrees, it is snow melt afterall. so refreshing after days without proper showering and sweating alll day.

The weather was beautiful all 6 days of our trip. 80 to 85 degrees under a strong southern hemispher sun. even nights were warm (did not need my long johns in my sleeping bag!)
only bain to this beautiful weather was the subsequent infestation of mosquitos. I didn´t count but I think the running total was close to 50 bites... itchy.

More lessons from the back country: camping pizza: a great recipe when the bread is a little stale! ingredients: hockey puck bread rolls, packet of pasta sauce, oregano, garlic, spices to your liking, packet cheese and salami if you need. on your camp stove add oil to the pot, brown the bread, through in the sauce and melt the cheese and salami if you are of a pepperoni persuasion!
delicious.
Another tip; when prunes are not enough to keep digestive processes going, use wheat germ! a simple additive that your intestines will thank you for.

on the personal story front, I really have few... I have so far pulled off a few leeches, I have purchased and begun to use a pee rag (please don´t be grossed out, they are so useful) I have aquired a taste for cold oatmeal (a fine trail lunch, espeically in lieu of hockey puck bread sandwiches with whatever condiments are left. I kid you not, someone on the trip: bread, mustard, jam, cucumber, cream cheese and ketchup). And I am officially an expert on blisters, blisters within blisters and blister care.

I am loving the experience down here and really getting into being in the field. Although I do not plan to go into orthinology or botany the experience is none the lesss valuable. Learning about international conservation issues has been quite enlightening and I have a much broader perspective on the question of conservation and challenges to it.

Next trip is to Pucon where we will mount a volcano and hang out in a supposedly stunning forest, adjacent to a lake in a forest of Arucaria (monkey puzzle) trees that look otherworldly. The class concludes next Monday and I will miss all the great travelling companions that I have become close with these past weeks. I am greatly looking forward to the arrival of
my boyfriend, Mike Bishop so we can further juant southern South America for a good six weeks more. I feel many delights are yet to come!
For now, back to the hostel for my last civilized meal... lots of iron please!

Yours in ecology,

Christina

from fjord to farm

Greetings from the tiny town of Hornopiren! I am situated east and south of the bay of Ancud perched on the edge of a fjord. The water weaves around high mountain cliffs that are covered with thick foliage including prehistoric looking giant ferns.

The group is back after a 10 day stint in Vodudahue, an organic farm part of Pumalin Park, a private reserved owned by Douglas Tompkins an expatriot businessman spending his fortune preserving wilderness areas in Chile and Argentina. A very unique situation this farm.. I won´t go into the politics now, just a bit about the trip:

A particularly awesome moment was the boat ride to this farm... we had a surprise stop at hotspots or Thermas. the silky soft mud bottom was filled with hot water you could change the temperature of by diverting streams.

Additionally, a hike we took up a mountain through thick foliage, generally ferns and bamboo giving way to mosses and trees in riparian areas led us to an amazing waterfall. It was graced with two alerce trees...famed, now rare trees of chile and argentina that take a long time to grow and were almost cut down to extinction before being legally preserved. they are very old and tall, similar to redwoods of northern california. we took a brief dip in the freezing cold water, it was super refreshing and nice, because i hadn´t shower in quite some time!

As for laboring...Work started at 8am and we preformed tasks until lunch. farm tasks included weeding, sheep tackling (in order to trim their toe nails) pruning, road maintenence and seed collecting. Days were often wet with a few, glorious summer days thrown in. The temperate was moderate and would only really heat up if the sun out.

There is much much much to share and I will save it for Puerto Varas. Just a taste but think: sea lion colony, boat ride from hell, fresh baked bread, being close to your meat (slaughtering a sheep that we later ate at an asado de cordero) much ecology, and gorgeous southern stars.

apologies for the rapid and unedited nature of this post.

love from the south, Christina.

Austral Summer Delight

Greetings from Puerto Varas, a small town on a lake, Lake Llanquihue. It is most quaint. currently it is infused with some unusual cultural fesitivies, the Prostfest is here for all Aleman, that is the spanish word for German residents and descendents here this weekend. I use Spanish frequently and keep the dictionary on me so that I may improve my vocabulary. The accent is not hard to understand generally, Santiagans speak fast however.

When i first arrived I was most miserable with a case of tonsilitis. After a trip to the doctors and a week of phlegm filled frustration , I improved and had no problems since. The trip to here was long, I lost a full day in transit and woke up in summertime with no concept of actual time. It was a blurry beginning to a new chapter which is so far, amazing.

Favorite food item thus far: mariscos (seafood, shellfish) and empanadas... the empandas are baked pastries that come filled with apple or cheese or meat. a filling treat indeed!

We have just returned from our first group foray into the field. And briefly the group is 15 other kids and two wonderful instructors, Esther and Dan. It is a Wildlands Studies program where we have three separate field courses that require a significant amount of work from identifying birds (on field quizzes that are actually somewhat stress... as in, oh no, I only saw that plant when it was flowering, what the heck is it without those orange, bottle like flowers! I also can´t seem to find the question mark on this key board some ! will suffice. We also do field surveys and study land conservation practices of the places we go. I will later write a 2500 word research paper by hand and turn in 30 field journals written during my time here. Its a lot of work, but its great and there are other suffering and experiencing and loving and hating it all with me.



But the first trip to the field was an 11 day stay on Chiloe Island. It is Chile´s largest island and one of the rainiest places in the world. We first stayed at a biological station, Senda Darwin where alot of plant and bird research takes place. it has fragmented north patagonian forests that are convinient to study. it was also a place charles darwin went and hated (he called it a 'miserable hole' and said that 'only amphibians could like it' mostly due to the year round rainfall).

highlights were sunbathing at 730 pm, followed by a 10pm sunset... so incredible!! group cooking and dinners, story time at night, learning to bird watch and swimming in a swimming hole that was more of small, slow flowing creek littered with cow pies. hopefully better places to swim in the future.

Following the Senda we left for Chiloe national park. the park, set on another lake quite near the coast (at this point it is the west coast of the island, so when facing west we had a spectactular view of ocean, big, uninterrupted and fraught with tempests). after one night in the front country we set off for a remote beach called Cole Cole. The hike was long, over 10 miles of mostly beach hiking followed by a steep incline and descent over a large hill with a severely muddied trail. My blisters were large, my pack sandy, and my boots wet by the end of it. we forded a flooded area too.
Cole Cole itself was beautiful. the campground was recessed from the beach in small clearings in the thick, Valdivian forest. treeless circles with picnic tables connected to each other through muddy forest trails no larger than deer trails. we filtered water that was amber colored due to the high amount of naturally occuring tanins. the waves broke in a heavy barrel on shore usually between one and one and a half meters. birds and seas cuold be seen out to see as well as several washed up penguins that were distinguishable only by their remaning feet or feathers.
Cole Cole was wet. rain pants and jacket were on all the time and when it was dry, the sun wasn´t out for long. i was cold to the core mostly. energy was zapped from me by the time it was 10, and just barely dark. it was extremely rewarding to cook our own meals, having brought all our own food in and be a self containted, self sufficient unit more or less. one treat was Calafate berries that populate the edge of the forest. they grow on thick, thory bushes but are similar to blue berries in size and stature. pretty good to add to one´s oats in the morning.

I snapped some beautiful sunset pictures and ones of me poking out from Nalca, giant ferms that look so prehistoric. they are the size of couch cushions or larger, incredible.

Now that we are back in town there is a lot to be done before our next trip. we must buy groceries for 10 days in our cook groups and pack the food. i must also buy new foot inserts to try and decrease the rubbing in my boots. i also want to do research for my research project on the South American volcano, Chaiten (if you have any great sources, send them my way!).

So far Chile is magnificent, the people are kind and interesting, they are helpful and I find their culture to be comforting, its value of hospitality, genorosity and a notion of stewardship for the environment in most cases. the landscape is ranges wildly, i saw volcanoes flying in, many lakes, the beach.
the next trip about 21 days long is a trip to an organic farm in Parque Pumalin, a privately owned (American owned) reserve in region ten of Chile. we will be working on an organic farm which I am most looking forward to. following that a backpacking trip to the Chochamo Valley follows.

All my love to you. Best, Christina Australis.


please feel free to post a comment or email me at christinatabacco@gmail.com

Shipwrecked

Ahoy! Although this very awesome outing happened over a week ago, it lingers strongly in my mind--the scent of the sea, the corroded iron (oxidation at its best!) a helipad covered in birds, the maiden's quarters (they were hardly that of a maiden, perhaps deckhands?) the cold, cold atlantic, the breaching whales....

I shall write about it briefly now and share pictures.

In a special place on the Atlantic side near Cape Town is a ship wreck. I found this information on it: The BOS 400 broke loose during a storm while being towed by the Russian tugboat Tigr from Point Noir, Congo to Cape Town, South Africa and ran aground on Duiker Point near Sandy Bay on June 26, 1994.

More than a decade of wreckage has brought a new crew to the ship. birds as I mentioned have capitalized the upper decks while the reefy area where the ship rests is home to fishes and seals.

After an hour of shimmying and crawling and vigorous hiking, we reached the launch site.

from then on, we swam, scrambled on to the ship, explored and jumped off.

Me gusta reggae, me gusta punk rock

A day off of the school grind to play in the waves-- not a bad idea. With exams drawing near, final projects underway, more grey days than springy ones I thought it would be acceptable to hit the beach and leave the books. Surf was small but so excellent for the soul, I enjoy the coasting down the face of wave, touching its glassy features with my extended fingers. Niceee.

What else in Cape Town? A handful of good friends make life here a treat. Surprisingly I feel as though I fit in around campus after just three months of school. I know the ropes well enough, where to get the cheap coffee, which bathrooms generally have no toilet paper, where to find elusive marine minded professors, even certain stairwells that have water heater compartments that are not locked, making for the perfect hiding place before terrifying a passerby. I suppose the weirdo African things I used to find so foreign have lost their alien sheen, overall rendering the surroundings familiar and warm.

Last weekend boasted a delightful festival called Rocking the Daisies. I got the full experience. The venue was up the west coast at a wine estate with lush grass, a reservoir for overheated dancing revelers, hippie vibes and musical fantasia.

Raging all night, watching the most beautiful pink and blue sunset, the boerwvorst rolls, the aging hippies still alongside the neo-eco-hippies, body paint and flowers, and perhaps oddly enough, a concert experience only myself and my two girlfriends had: an awesome game of tag with kids we found in an adjacent field. There is a picture below, the kids were so wonderful, and such a random surprise.

Alas, I must go because I must ready myself for my official scuba certification knighting! I shall receive my official 'scuba stina' card and all the other bells and whistles.

Photos: Rocking the Daisies (left) Field Kids (right)

This photo deserves some explanation. This is Muizenberg, a place where I frequently surf. The reason for this mass amount of surfers is that on this Sunday they were trying to break the world record for most people on a wave at one time. We saw the crew succeed, a joyous and stoked moment indeed.

Scuba lady.

I'm with Sea

The news of the hour is that I have obtained my open water diving certificate! A weekend of 8-5 training in the sea including, but not limited to: a drive to Simonstown, inclement weather (pouring rain) instant coffee, lingering sand grain in my ears, cold and wet wetsuits, super salty locks and dramatic snorkel rescues (a SCUBA skill one must practice. I looked totally awesome, a lot like David Hasselhoff, I imagine as I dragged my drowning diver buddy to shore and resuscitated him). An open water certification means: I can dive with or without a leader up to depths of 18 meters wherever in the world I want whenever I want (could be in the Red Sea when I am 89). Universal and life long, this certification gives me access the life aquatic which I will be vigorously pursuing under the assumed name: Scuba 'Stina.

Primarily I want to see some serious primary productivity-- want to head to those beautiful coral reefs before they are lost. Want to swim with manatees (my favorite underwater grazer!) and witness the most bizarre of animals of shapes and colors and adaptions I cannot begin to conceive of.

Otherwise I had a nice Heritage Day (national holiday last Thursday) went adventure hiking through the forest. Learned that there is a species of tree with a metallic luster that occurs only on the slopes of Table Mountain! I shall post a picture and send one to my botanist colleagues back home. Spent time last week in Kristenbosch gardens-- lush botanic gardens with grassy hillsides, lots of species of Protea, some Carpobrotus edulis (ice plant-- native here invasive in CA) guinea fowl pecking about, birds of paradise and many more things. Additionally I have been attending class, frequenting pubs, scuba diving in the pouring rain, viewing rainbows and attempting to waste less.

I have started eating apple and pear cores to be less wasteful. Also I nibble on banana peels and sample plant life whenever it suits me. Don't worry, I know what they say about mushroom hunters:

There are old mushroom hunters

There are brave mushroom hunters;

but no old, brave mushroom hunters.

So I won't be sampling any death caps or plants with deathly latex (used for poison arrows!)

On all other fronts things are well. Car is well behaved, health is good (so grateful!) homework is under control but that is subject to change.

Looking forward to the week ahead. Here is about life under the sea:

the virgin voyage

underwater

I must play

and touch and grab as a child would

finger enclosed in an anenome's hug

starfish suctioned to my hand

crabs battle with legs flailing, pincers scissoring

fish poking out from within their convenient kelp curtain

jelly fish, nearly planktonic, floating helplessly by

and how do I compare?

aqua lung strapped to my back

fins flailing more uselessly than a dog using a pair of wings

the awkward inflation of my anthropogenic buoyancy control

less do I care to compare

than fixate my stare

on a pair

of rare

cuddle fish mating!

The Phantastic Photo Edition

Let me preface this by noting that below this post is the A-Zed written account which will give more insight into some of these photos. Without further ado: This is a waterfall on the Panorama Route near Kruger National Park in the NE corner of South Africa.
The travelling Tabaccos at Singita Lebombo. Beautiful fork in the river, the site or our bush breakfast and ellies in the back ground!
Our leopard friend I wrote so fondly about in the Leopard Bike Ride incident. Black rossettes as opposed to spots differentiate leopards and cheetahs.
Joe with lionness.
The Tabaccos at Camp Jubalani, site of our elephant backed safaris!

Ok, clearly it has been a long time since I have last posted! An appropriately brief yet comprehensive post is in order. I will compose an A-Z(zed) list of awesome words or phrases that I have encountered here in SA that is themed largely with my vacation to Kruger National Park where I fell in love with the animals, the ruggedness and the sunsets. 

A: Amarula is a fantastic apertif. 

B: baboons-- not just in the cafeteria, also exist in the bush where they frequently pester camps.

C: constellations of the Southern Hemisphere have dazzled me. Partially because I have never set eyes on some before, but also because in the south we gaze towards the galactic center. Compared to the northern hemisphere, the distinct Milky Way and outstanding number of tinkles make the sky seem like "a backlit canopy with holes punched in it"

D: Dungeons. Look it up on youtube or a surf site-- big wave spot that gets HUGE.  A world wide magnet for adrenaline seeking wing nuts. 

E: elephants!!!! Under many circumstances did I see elephants: elephant rides at the wonderful Camp Jubalani (the site of our first bush stay over-- three nights in bush paradise) elephants at the watering hole--joining the family for a little brunch (though ours was omlettes-- they munch tree branches and bark) the view from the land rover (our safari vehichle) and finally at the pool of our lodge. The ellies marched to the side of the pool to nibble on close by fauna, not only terrifying Peg from walking back to her room but also doing significant landscaping (breaking trees in half-- very destructo-deco don't you think?)

F: Fickle weather patterns of Cape Town have left me soaked the past few days. It just doesn't look like rain when there are blue skies and puffy clouds as far as the eye can see. Cape Town is not a place for amateur meteorology I suppose.

G: God's Window. A place high in the the north eastern corner of South Africa. It overlooks a fantastic river valley boasting tremendous granite rock formations, waterfalls and a random microclimate: a petite mountain top rainforest!

H: Hippos-- are very susceptible to dessication (drying out) they have no sweat glands and seek water in the hottest parts of the day and bush cover by night.

I: Islands... I would love a trip to Madagascar or Mauritius but I don't know if will happen.

J: Jerky in South Africa is called Biltong. It is delicious and should be tried by all meat eaters.

K: Kudu is a delicious meat. It is a tender dark meat-- that of an antelope.

L: Leopard bike ride--- although this deserves its very own blog post the essentials of the leopard bike ride are: Peg, Joe and I enthusiastically head into the bush with our guide, James for some mountain biking. We drive the bikes out to a point and plan to ride home. All is going well for 15 minutes or so. I charge ahead down a drainage ditch, and fly ahead of the rest. I get off my bike and retreat towards the family as they make their way down the dirt road. As I walk back across the cement roadway I hear a rustle from the undergrowth about 20ft away. A large male leopard and I lock eyes. I say, "there is a leopard! there is a leopard!" Our guide comes over to see and directs myself and the Tabaccos to s l o w l y get off our bikes and get into the land rover. Aye ya ya! To convey the gravity of this situation you must know that a cross leopard will kill you, it will charge and strike if alarmed or threatened. The rifle was in its case in the car, we were essentially defenseless. But the mood was much more surprise than eminent danger or fear on my part (and perhaps the leopard too). 

Following the initial siting we got in the veichle and followed the leopard around the river bed for 15 minutes... It was awesome, no creature quite so nicely painted as  a leopard.

M: Maladrone. The malaria medicine I have been taking following mosquito exposure in the bush. Some interesting side effects (dreams of children and cabinetry followed by utter disorientation in the mornings)

N: nice balance. On our trip to Kruger we saw women balancing the most amazing things on their head-- big, heavy baskets or boxes that seem utterly impossible!!

O: outrageously delicious tropical fruits grew in the area. Namely: guava, pineapple, bananas galore, gogi berries.

P: giant preying mantis outside hotel room!

Q: A Q or queue is a line. I queue for: school computers, the bus, grocery store (can be up to 15 minutes). 

R: Every ranger has a story about troublesome guests. This was the funniest: Indian visitors to this particular concession could not understand the danger of the bush. On one instance the Inidian man got out of the safari car to approach a dugger boy. A dugger boy is an aged male water buffalo. They hang out alone or in small groups and are notoriously aggressive since they know they are vulnerable away from the herd. The Indian man gets out of the vehicle to, "try and milk the water buffalo. In my country, we do this!" 

Problematic because of the obvious result in injury and because the dugger boys are of course, male. 

S: snails (giant land snails) exist in the bush. They are about 10 times the size of a regular snail. T: Tea. A special kind of tea that Peg took a liking to, Rooibos. It comes from a specific region and is not from leaves. Very popular here.

U: ultimate sunsets. Have you seen the sun glow red before it sinks below the horizon?

V: very dangerous. This pertains to surfing here in Cape Town. With the hectic paddles (to get to where the waves break), the cold, the currents the at times extreme winds you must proceed with caution. Did I mention that several of my friends surfing on the Atlantic coast fled the water after spotting a near by great white shark?

W: white chicks! come to Wynberg! An audio explanation is needed to fully explain what this means... essentially my friend and I get yelled at by "mini-bus" drivers-- a combination of taxi and bus that is a popular form of quasi-public transportation.

X: Xhosa-- a prominent language here (one of the 11 national languages) that involves clicking!

Y: Y, do I have to go home??

Z: Zed is the proper way to say Z here. I asked if when singing the "ABCs" do you end with zed? Indeed they do! 

And I'm spent!

My underwater debut

What a gorgeous Monday it was. The mountain in fine form with not a cloud lingering above it, a magnificent sunset from a balcony table for two setting that could have been a vista from Lake Como, Italy. I spent most of the day inside however, writing about urban agriculture. A 2000 word essay was due, on top of 500 word essay, on top of a 1000 word essay last week, and looking forward to a test friday and more work monday.

I didn't come to Africa to have my waking moments dominated by word documents! But I shall not complain any further, academics here are worth while.

I am getting scuba certified here in South Africa. It is international and life long, so nothing will be lost in translation.

This is a transcript of an email sent just after I returned from the first day of pool training (after my fingers thawed):

Oh my goodness, what I am not paying in $ I am paying for in physical discomfort. 8am, we got our gear and headed to the pool, excuse me, the unheated pool. In order to

begin we had to swim 200m and show that we could tread water for 10
mintues. The pool is about 50 degrees. It is unheated water subject to
little sun and CPT weather. The ocean, yesterday surfing was not that
cold. So, hypothermia set in and somehow myself and everyone else got
through it.
Following that we assembled and disassmebled our kits several times
before heading to the baby pool d to the baby pool (about 4 ft deep)
then we practiced the necessary skills of scuba, how to retrieve your
mask, your regulator, how to clear the mask and hoses. It took a while
in the freezing water (still freezing even with 7mm thick wetsuits and
hoods and boots) because several of the participants had troubles.

But I love the scuba! I enjoyed the underwater sensation of weightlessness and the colors of the light reflecting in the water, walking on ones hands, dolphin kicking as much as my heart desires, making funny faces/signals at fellow scubas... And the best part, my new scuba name: SCUBA'STINA!

Will hopefully post a picture of scuba soon. For now, this is clouds gathering around Table Mountain a view fro the 16th fairway of the Mowbray Golf Club

Women's Day Weekend

Hello Hello! Moora-- in Afrikaans. A few new developments since I have last written: some uniquely South African experiences this weekend including a hike up Lion's Head Mountain, a round of golf with all South African flare (golf carts are not backwards however!) a SA vs. Aussie rugby game, part of the annual tri-nations tournament and, the purchase of a genuine South African automobile!!!

I shall start with the scaling of Lion's Head. This mountain is perched on the Atlantic, dividing several suburbs of Cape Town. It rises steeply into the clouds that pour over the mountain like dry ice. The rock of this mountain is some of the oldest in the world-- this piece of land has been around, unmoved for a very long time. The rocks at the top were spotted like cows sort of, lichens had died and dried on these rocks, giving them a speckled look that I had never seen before. Lion's head was a strenuous hike near the top, lots of navigation underfoot, chains to scale a vertical face at one point, and some bouldering. The pictures are: a view of Camp's Bay and beyond

+ the Atlantic, looking back at Table Mountain,

Kaja (Norwegian friend!) myself and Mary Kate (Bostonian!) and me at the top of the mountain, which was socked in with fog.

Next: The rugby game. It is indeed like a religion here-- from the facepaint, to the flags and the braais (bbq) and the beer something about this rough and tumble sport really resounds in the hearts of SAfricans. We were at field level!

And finally, the car. This fine automobile is born the year of the dragon, 1988, just like myself. It is a rare breed-- an automatic Citigolf antique. I am the proud half-owner with my surfing amigo, Brandon (pictured below).

The hope is for this fine machine to last five months without mechanical failure or theft!!

And finally, your African moment of Zen. This is a sunset from my balcony looking out at a ridge with a pleasing Sarenghetti esq. treeline. Savor, sip and enjoy!