DEN > SFO > SYD
Flyiing over the Colorado, Rockies enroute to San Francisco
I’m heading to Australia… Tasmania to be specific. I should be more excited about this vacation, but getting settled back in Denver and leaving California at the same time has been distracting. I unpacked my new furniture in my new home to the last minute, and didn’t start packing for Australia until this morning. I left myself only 3 hours to pack my clothes and camera gear, before I had to catch my flight out of Denver Intl’. I suppose 7 years of travel gave me some skill… depending on how I feel when I land in Sydney, I may or may not make a separate blog/website for my photos from this trip/shoot.
Standby and check back soon!
- Jude
Transit Day
View enroute to Calafate
I felt like a rodeo cowboy on a bucking bull, as I gripped the handle bar with my left hand and aimed (or tried aiming) for the toilet with the right. My shoulders alternated banging between the narrow walls, and my feet shuffled to stay upright. The toilet closet was located at the back of the bus, and nature called while the back of the bus jostled on the rocky dirt road of Rt. 40 – along the stretch of highway that ran between the Chilean and Argentinian border. It was like shooting an arrow while riding a mechanical bull… but I kept my pants dry.
After hiking in Torres del Paine for almost 5 days, Puerto Natales and the immediate area started to seem like a dead end. The weather reports promised rain in most areas, and boats and buses to adjacent points of interest – Ushuaia, Puerto Montt, etc. – required a few days of waiting in Puerto Natales before their departure. Staying an extra day to visit a cave with a replica of a prehistoric giant ground sloth was tempting, but there were other sights to be seen and hiked elsewhere in Patagonia.
Gan and Simyan concluded the same decision as I did to leave Puerto Natales by bus back to El Calafate on the Argentinian side of Patagonia. My flight for Bariloche leaves in about 3 hours, where I hope to escape wet weather. Now, just sitting in another locutorio (internet/Skype shop) passing the time. Ironically, it´s mild and sunny with happy, puffy clouds in the sky. Rather than hiking, we spent half the day sitting in a bus. It´s a transit day.
Turbulencia
The woman across the aisle gripped both armrests, shut her eyes and bit down by reflex. One can only imagine how tightly she clenched her butt cheeks as the plane dipped sharply (though briefly) downwards several feet and yawed left and right as the pilot negotiated the formidable winds above the Andes mountains.
Ladies and their babies cried to Dios, while men in a show of their machismo laughed through the experience as if it was a carnival ride. I already heard about the turbulence when crossing the Andes so I kept myself calm, but I admit that I made the sign of the cross for good measure. If this is how it would end, at least it would be a great story. Images of the infamous crash in the Andes decades ago where survivors resorted to cannibalism ran through my mind. “That guy a few rows ahead would taste gross. I’d eat the flight attendant.”
I glanced at Jenica who was less affected by fear than by motion sickness. No… I would not eat her. What would I tell her family? She had her head down. I could only think: “Damnit, I should have asked to switch with her for the window seat.”
