After hiking the Perito Moreno glacier, my plan was to visit the Marble Caves in Puerto Rio Tranquilo, Chile. So, I got all my things packed up again and caught a bus to Los Antiguos, Argentina, on the Argentina/Chile border. I would have liked to have spend an additional day in El Calafate, just practicing my balance exercises after getting disoriented, but the bus from Chile Chico to Puerto Rio Tranquilo only runs once a week, and it was going to be tight making it on time. The bus to Los Antiguos pulled into the station just a few minutes late. No problem. We made it about a kilometer down the road before we had to turn back because of engine problems. After a bus change, we were back on the road about an hour later. Not a good sign.
The plan in Los Antiguos was to catch a taxi from the bus station to the border. There was no taxi stand at the bus station. The few people who were still on the bus when we arrived in Los Antiguos, just took off walking to their destinations. Luckily, there were some people in the bus station cleaning. One of them called me a taxi. The border was very close to the bus station, only a 400 peso trip to the border. The taxi driver did give me some disturbing news, however. There is no transportation from the Argentina border to the Chilean border. No taxis are allowed to provide service between the two borders. No busses provide service between the two borders. There are no car rentals in Los Antiguos, let alone anythat will allow you to drive across the border. He told me that most people "hacer dedo", or ride their thumb. The others walk. He estimated it to be 10 km between the borders. Well, that was my options. I was not thrilled with them, but I wasn't going to make it to that once-a-week bus to Puerto Rio Tranquilo by standing around sulking, so off I went. When I cleared immigration out of Argentina, the agent confirmed that the only two ways to get to Chile were to walk or hitchhike, but said the distance was more like 5 km to the Chilean border and that some people appear to be able to get a taxi from the Chilean border on into the town of Chile Chico. In hindsight, Google Maps says it is 2.7 km or 1.7 miles between the borders. There was a couple sitting outside the immigration office who were just going to try to hitchhike from there. I thought about that, but then decided I should probably start walking and try to get a ride as I went. I had no idea how long it would take for somebody to come along this border crossing, which was not a busy crossing at all, and I needed to be in the Chile Chico bus station by 1:00 or wait a week to get to the marble caves. So, off I went.
I walked about half a mile before a car pulled over. It was a family of 4, husband, wife, and two sons. They put my bags in the rear hatch, and I got in the back seat with the boys. We wondered a bit why none of the cooperativas showed any interest in taking this route, thinking it could probably make for some good income for short distances. When we got to the border, they helped me clear immigration and customs and offered to take me on into town to the bus station. I offered to pay them. I had Argentinian pesos and dollars. They wouldn't take anything. They go back and forth frequently because they have relatives in Los Antiguos, and they always pick up hitchhikers because they think it's awful that there is no possibility of transportation for hire.
Chile Chico is a beautiful little town. Thanks to that family, I made it to the bus station with time to spare for the bus to Puerto Rio Tranquilo. The lady at the bus company stored my luggage for free and directed me to the nearest bank so I could get cash in Chilean pesos, since the bus was cash only. This bus is a weekly shuttle for locals who come into town to work during the week. It runs the opposite way on Monday morning. The locals board from the bus station, and if there is room after that, the bus will pick up tourists on the corner by the square. While waiting for the bus, a protest went through town. They were protesting the city's decision to not allow a ferry service to open or remain open to shuttle tourists across the lake. Apparently, the city interferes with the ability of its citizens to gather tourist dollars. There's a lot of tourist money left sitting on the table because the city won't let the car ferry run, transportation between the borders, or more frequent transport in or out of town!
Los Antiguos, Chile Chico, Puerto Rio Tranquilo, and other small towns in both Argentina and Chile sit on the banks of the largest lake in Chile and one of the larger fresh-water lakes in South America. The part of the lake that sits in Argentina is called Lago Buenos Aires. In Chile, it is called Lago General Carrera. It is a glacial lake that empties into the Pacific Ocean after running through several rivers and lakes. The views on the southern shores of Lago General Carrera going west from Chile Chico are absolutely breath taking! The cliffs against the shores of the water are every bit as beautiful and dramatic as those on the Pacific Coast Highway in California. Then add in the backdrop of the glaciated and snow-capped peaks of the Andes mountains in Patagonia on the northern shore, and the views are even better than those of the PCH! Unfortunately, we were packed, 18 people plus luggage, into a 15-passenger van navigating a gravel road often at the edges of those cliffs, so there was no attempt at getting pictures of those extravagant views! I was just fortunate that I had a seat and was not one of the people standing. As we headed south along the lake, people started getting off the bus, but by the time there was enough space to consider taking out my camera, the views weren't so extraordinary. Don't get me wrong. It was still lovely, but not "fighting over focus through the dirty windows of the moving bus" lovely.
We finally got to Puerto Rio Tranquilo about 30 minutes before the front desk of my hotel was scheduled to close. So, I hop off the bus, gather my bags, pay the driver, and head to my hotel. About half way there, I realize I left my parka on the bus! This is the parka I got from the Antarctic cuise! By the time I got turned around to where I could see where the bus had parked, it was gone. So, with tears in my eyes (literally), I turned back and went to my hotel. I got checked in and scheduled for the marble cave tour the following morning. I mentioned that I had forgotten my parka on the bus, so should I go buy a new coat before doing the tour, and the lady assured me that it would be fine and that the tour operator would have ponchos for everybody. And besides, she would give the bus company a call and see if she could get my parka returned. What?! She knew the manager of the bus company?! I might get my parka after all! And in the meantime, she had a coat I could borrow for any rainy weather! A ray of hope, but I was still bummed. The restaurant was already closed and I was tired, so I just went upstairs to take a shower and go to bed.
I got up the next morning for the marble cave tour. The choice was to do the "full marmol" (full marble) or just the Marble Cathedral. Of course, since I'm only going to do this once, I chose the full marble! A large group of men from Chile, Argentina, and Italy also chose to do the full marble on this day, and they were also staying in the same hotel. So, when the lady from the tour company arrived, all 14 of us headed to the waterfront. I paid by credit card and was given a military-grade poncho and a life jacket. Several of the guys needed help getting their ponchos on correctly so they didn't bunch up under the life vest. I've worn these before, so no problem. Then we walked over to the dock to board the boat. Still having some balance problems, I needed some extra help getting on. Since I was the only English speaker, I was close to the back of the boat since the captain/driver was the English speaking guide. While driving out at speeds that splashed, I used the Fuji waterproof camera. When we throttled back to slower speeds and we were allowed to stand and walk around, I pulled the good camera out of the waterproof bag.
We started at a shipwreck.