Wednesday, February 5th, 2025

Because our flight would leave Ushuaia at 09:20, we were advised to leave the hostel at 07:00 – so I did not get even a single slice of toast – I suddenly missed the Plancius even more !

Our taxi appeared almost promptly. Needless to say, we were the first people through the baggage scanner and customs checks and were sitting at the departure gate before 07:40. I could have gorged myself silly on toast and still been at the gate by 08:30 ….

There were two of our fellow expedition passengers on the flight, Petr, a Dutch film maker and his wife. They were seated near the front and waved to us as we made our way to the cheaper seats. After we landed, they were gone long before we could move.

Aerolinas Argentinas did things nicely. We took off on time and even got three little biscuits during the flight. Iberia could learn a thing or two from them !

We also landed dead on time, but into what appeared to be a monsoon. It was raining somewhat more than very heavily. Unfortunately, when I went to don my fleece, we found out that it was hanging on a hook, in Ushuaia …… Lucie said it did not matter, because she had already decided it was very tatty and would have been going into the clothes recycling as soon as we got home..

Our taxi fare to our hostel was pre-agreed at ninety dollars which might appear to have been a little bit steep. The distance, though, was over sixty kilometres – Buenos Aires is a very big, very spread out, city.

The predominantly motorway journey, with a couple of tolls included, took well over an hour. In some places, the still unceasing deluge meant there was standing water across all eight lanes of the motorway. Considering how “excitable” the Latino temperament is generally considered to be, the driving was, luckily, sensible and measured. Our driver had to make only one, what I would have called, “unplanned”, dab at the brakes during the entire journey.

Chosen solely for its proximity to the International Airport, EZE, our hostel, Nel’s Casa, was therefore a tiny bit rural. It was also quite hard to find and, being more of an Air B&B, was not externally signed. Worse still, from our point of view, it was not internally occupied either. There was not a bell and the front gate was padlocked. No problem, we had the telephone number, or at least we thought we did until we tried to ring it – it seemed to be a non existent number.

We were, do not forget, standing in a monsoon at this point and my waterproof coat, also destined for the bin when we got home, was showing me exactly why that was its destiny.

Perhaps fearing the worst, our taxi driver was sitting watching us slowly drown from inside of his car. He got out, told Lucie to sit in the back and began walking up and down the street, trying bells.

A few doors down, he got a response. The family he talked to knew our landlady and called her on her cell ‘phone. It appeared that she was stuck somewhere in a traffic jam and would get there as soon as she could. Sure enough, ten minutes later, a small white, FIAT car screamed around the corner at great speed. Obviously, Juan Fangio and Ayrton Senna were not the only Argentinians that knew how to put their foot down when it was required.

The driver emerged and seemed curiously at odds with the panache of the driving we had just witnessed – it was a little lady whose age probably fell nearer to mine than to Lucie’s. She was, of course, beside herself with apology and blurted that out in a curious mixture of English and Spanish. I felt that our driver, who had effectively saved the day, was almost as relieved as we were to see her. I gave him a ten dollar extra tip and he drove away smiling.

Our hostess let us in and our room was quite cute. Not large, but with a certain style to it. She even made us some empanadas for lunch.

No sooner had we eaten, than Lucie discovered that she had somehow left her eReader on the aeroplane. We had both looked in the seat pocket, but for some reason, neither of us had seen it there. We suspected that it was already back in Ushuaia. I decided that it might not be politic to ask Lucie if she had intended to bin that too, once we got back to Prague. We were not having a good day – at least it had finally stopped raining….

Does it sound terrible to say that we simply could not be bothered to go and do anything ? We were a long way, by our own design, from the city and we had been more or less constantly on the go for four weeks. There was quite a pleasant little garden. It was seemingly structured for grandchildren, but it had an umbrella and a couple of chairs. We simply sat outside, using the umbrella as a sunshade and chilled out.

We had a nice shower, which is so much easier when the floor is not moving and then donned out travelling clothes for the following day.

A month previously, I had been not looking forward to the nineteen days on the boat, now I was not looking forward to a total of about fifteen hours in the tender clutches of Iberia Airways.

Our hostess, who had been to an art class, with a very South American result, reappeared and cooked us some nice pizza for our supper.

Then it was write all this and then off to bed. The next bed we would sleep in would be our own.

The crooked finger of Europe was calling us now ..