Last year, when I was in South America, I was followed by stray dogs many, many times. For hours. For miles. For nothing.
Now in Chile and Argentina, Axel witnessed the same happening again. The dogs looked at me and then just started following me (or us in that case, but it was clear it was following me rather than Axel). Today a dog left his perfect rain shelter and followed me again. Through the rain. Up to the door of the hostel where we had to leave him behind.
This is slightly awkward. Do I smell like dog? Am I an alpha male to them? Do I look like I was carrying hot dogs around to feed the? What makes them think so? If you’ve got some explanations, please stop my mind from whirling around this issue.
Comparing the dogs of Chile and Argentina, it really sprung into my eye that the dogs in Argentina are a lot bigger on average. Do Chileans like small dogs more? Or is there anything to compensate for people from Argentina? The dogs in Argentina also look better fed and their fur is in a better shape. Maybe there is more rain on one side of the Andes.
“Big-a-dog, big-a-bite,
small-a-dog must not fight.
Have a problem with the right?
Wake me up in the night.” (Gerd Baumann)
Concerning the deeper meanings of things, El Chalten means “the smoking one” (maybe referring to Axel who picked up this old habit again). The people thought that the Fitz Roy mountain was a volcano and the cloud that almost always sticks to its summit was smoke. We got up pretty late and tried to find out for ourselves. The weather looked excellent and so we started hiking up the winding track at around noon. The views were magnificent with the a river twisting its ways through the valley.
Closing up to Fitz Roy and the Laguna De Los Tres, Axel and I saw some bad weather rolling in. This was the first time we didn’t take our jackets with us as we always had such good karma. The obvious was going to happen. While we were climbing up the last 400m of elevation (a very steep ascend) it started raining together with strong winds. I only wore a very thin shirt. It was only 20 more minutes to the laguna so I kept walking. Stubbornness, thy name is Chris.
I took a few very, very quick pictures of the blue lake while Fitz Roy was covered in clouds. Then I ran back down as fast as I could. Only later somebody told me there should have been more than one lake. Shrug. I got pretty much soaked anyway. After a couple of minutes I had to pull out my rain covers for my backpack, but I didn’t care to put on my fleece as it would only get wet. Of course, by then the worst part had been over.
Slowly it stopped raining and the bad weather stayed close to the Fitz Roy. I met Axel again after about 1.5h of running at another lake, and funnily enough, he had met Max from Puerto Natales who we left behind in El Calafate. There we also got to chat with two other German girls named Amrei and Mareike and a Chilean guy called Rodrigo. Max hip was hurting so we all went back together.
The light had changed and made it a warm almost autumn-like day with a few trees already turning golden. We often stopped for taking photos and somehow it felt like the hike would never end.
Finally we arrived back in town and as reward got ourselves a scoop of home-made ice cream. We arranged to meet again at a microbrewery for the evening. After a very necessary shower. And pasta with tomato sauce. Our feet burnt like fire but Axel’s blister was actually healing slowly.
We met Oscar and J.P. from El Calafate, too in our hostel and had a great night with dark Bock beer and a light Pilsner at the microbrewery. J.P. and Max would leave the next morning and that was the last time we saw them. So far. I imagine we could run into Max again on our way up to Santiago.
Of all the people who actually wanted to go hiking to the Laguna Torre the next day, only Amrei apparently showed up. It was a less exhausting hike, but it also had some good views along the Rio Fitz Roy. Very enjoyable. And as we had our rain jackets with us, of course, the weather was pretty good. Compared to Laguna De Los Tres, Laguna Torre was not as beautiful but at least the view was clear and have a long and comfy lunch break.
We had to get up pretty early in the morning to catch our transfer bus back to the El Calafate airport, where we would take the small Fokker 28 to Bariloche. We got some amazing early morning sunrise and light while driving out through the endless valleys. Axel was worried about the 15kg limit on the baggage, but as I only had 12kg, his 17kg were averaged out easily. Together with his carry-on luggage, he has to carry around 7kg more than me…
The flight was quick but you could almost see the plane being tossed around by the winds much easier than for example an 737. This was almost a flying bus-service as it had started in Ushuaya with stops in Rio Gallegos, El Calafate, Bariloche, Mendoza and finally arriving in Buenos Aires. 13 rows with five seats each. Sweet.
It was the better choice to fly instead of the 30 hours bus ride. In Bariloche we passed the bus terminal where I saw the couple that were in our dorm in Punta Arenas sitting and waiting for a bus…
Maybe these random incidents are just like the dogs following me. If there’s a god, maybe he/she’s a dog, too?
