Ushuaia, episode I

 I hope you weren't expecting me to stick a picture of Nicolas Hulot. Fine. 

At fricking last, I arrived in Ushuaia !!

15h of travel, instead of 12. Well, why not !

As usual, a few pictures from the trip : 

 Remember the desert-like scenes ? Plenty of'em here...

The shuttle ! This shuttle took us across a golf among the Tierra del Fuego's islands. You know, that kind of flat boat which can handle a buch of cars, trucks, and coaches. 

We could enjoy a some... wind. A "ox's horns ripper wind", as we say in France. Impressive strength, I almost fell, 2 times on this boat. You know how stable I usually am on my feet. In addition, the boat was rolling like mad on the sea, and I preferred to seat eating a pancho and look at the waves.

 Qué lindooo !

  The waves. 

Once arrived, we went on these looong roads again, surrounded by Australian-like deserts (Noémie, confirmed ?). You know, that kind of asphalt-grey, yellow lines, blue sky, and brown hills / mountains ? That's what I mean. 

The souther you go, the dryer it turns...

 I'm proud of this picture. 

 The bordeeeer !

Something like 2 or 3 hours of wait in borders, waiting for chilian authorities to give us our passports back. In fact, I wouldn't have noticed that it took that long without this dear french couple "frenching" about the length of the wait. 

Oh, by "frenching", I mean "playing the common basic abroad french role of being negative, balls-beaking headbutt-deserving cunt-carving badass cocksucker asslicking goddamn mother fucking son of a bitch complaining about everything, everytime, everywhere, in every fucking circumstance". 

Well, it was worth it !! Look :

Hahahaha 4 stamps in 1 day !! My passport starts looking soooo good.

 That is so "End of the World". Imagine : feeling the wind on your skin, throwing your scarves away, playing with your hair and eyelashes, hearing the blow in the cables of this wrecked gas station, and so on. I almost forgot the cold.

Halva looking mountain. 

Fwahahahaha !!

 Nice sunset reflects on a small river among hills. 

I finally arrived in the well-named "Refugio del Mochilero". Thanks Guide du Routard for this address. I've been welcome by a cheerful "Bonjour !" of a stoned french sailor who had, by random, guessed my nationality. Massive as the sailor he is, drunk the same way, the skin and the mind used by alcohol, wind, salt and sun, speaking loud and laughing like a crowd, his huge hands slapping shoulders, grasping arms as his guttural voice is telling stories whose level of truth I'm still wondering about...

We went in a bar called "The Dublin", and I could notice that Ushuaia was a European destination : many french and germans,here. I guess this destiantion is so "tourismized" and cold that only north europe wealthy travellers can afford it...

Slept titght this first night, and woke up this morning, eating a delicious bag of medialunas. More news tomorrow ! (or a bit after...)