On our last day in Ushuaia, we decided we’d take a stroll along the southernmost coast of South America. The hostel that we stayed in had a pretty idiot-proof step-by-step instruction to reach la Playa Larga (literally: Long Beach).
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you probably would’ve guessed what happened with this little misadventure…
Of course… We never made it to the beach.
In fact, we didn’t even made it to the “old lighthouse” in the instruction sheet (line 5 of 13).
To be fair, we tried our best. Initially, it seemed pretty straight forward. There was only one road leading away from the bus stop…
Even though the instructions stated that the walk would take 30 minutes, we figured that our frequent stops to take photos of the most inane nonsense, and our ridiculously slow walking speed probably meant that we would need about an hour to reach the beach.
After walking for 30 minutes, we actually saw a sign that gave us hope…
Which was kinda strange, because up to this point, we had not seen any “trails through the forest” nor “Estancia el Tunel”. But the sign MUST mean we are on the right track, right?
We continued walking for another 45 minutes after the sign, and still saw no sign of ANY of the things mentioned in the instruction sheet.
But it was a really nice walk, so we decided to push on anyway.
One of the reasons why the walk was so awesome for us was how isolated the walk felt. For the whole 90 minutes we’d been walking, we only saw ONE car that passed us on the main road. We had the whole stretch to ourselves. There were the occasional birds that peeked curiously at us and a ferret (fox?) that ran across the road ahead of us, but for the most part, we were on our own, with the crisp mountain air filling our lungs.
All in all… a gloriously peaceful walk in the morning. We figured that it didn’t even matter if we never reached la Playa Larga. This walk was so wonderful we could go on until we got tired, and then start heading back to the hostel.
That was when it started to rain.
Actually it was a full blown Patagonian thunderstorm. The dark clouds rolled in suddenly. Thick sleets of rain cascaded down on us. The winds billowed strongly, threatening to blow us off the road. It was one hell of an angry storm.
The isolation we loved so much earlier? Not that awesome anymore…
We started to panic. We tried hurriedly to cover our handphones/cameras (typical Singaporeans, we know) and started running back the way we came.
Then we realized… We were a good one hour from ANYWHERE! Doing anything at that point in time was really kinda futile.
I think there was a moment when we stopped mid run, glanced at each other and started laughing uncontrollably. There seemed to be little else we could do.
Then we started dancing and splashing water at each other.
This definitely made the list of “most memorable moments” of our trip so far.
This is gonna sound totally cheesy, but I guess this is one of the greatest perks of travelling with someone you love… in fact, the greatest perks of doing ANYTHING with someone you love – The most hopeless of situations don’t look so bad when you can just say “fuck it” and have a good laugh
at with each other.