we aimed to spend only a few hours in the car, but when we stopped for tea in an estancia on ruta 40, the man in charge told us he’d heard on the radio that morning that the perito moreno glacier had begun to crack and that we absolutely must head straight there. “this happens every six years and it’s only down the road”. 250 km later we were still en route, e-j visibly deteriorating with every extra 5 minutes in the car, and my concentration levels waning as we ticked up towards 700km of dirt roads. hunger was supplanted with increasing doses of Shanne-Nuss and post sugar-rush comedowns were becoming emotional. 8 hours in a car can turn the most unusual and beautiful landscape into the mundane and painful. all i remember for the last few hours were merangue clouds floating in a swirling light blue soup.
we passed a couple biking into the wind and stopped to give our respect. her leary ‘marmite’ top gave them away as english and we filled up their water bottles and rid ourselves of the last of the cursed Shanne-Nuss. they had stamina.
we had brutally demolished ruta 40, and skipped a lot of good stuff along the way, so we promised ourselves we would return north to trek around mount fitzroy. here we were already in el calafate, a charmingly tacky tourist town whose existence and rapid growth was based solely on the perito moreno glacier. if tomorrow was all that it was cracked up to be with 1000s of tonnes of ice collapsing into the water, it would all be worthwhile. we dumped the car at a cheap hostel and went for dinner at a popular restaurant on the main road. you’re not really in argentina until you’ve had a steak and a bottle of malbec.
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