I’ve heard it said that the last leg to Ushuaia is boring misery and that the town itself is a dump. I believed it and convinced Nina of it, too. It didn’t lessen our desire to drive to the southernmost city in the world, but I did figure it would be kind of a “check” experience – we’d tap in, turn around, and head back.
Wrong.
Tierra del Fuego kicks righteous ass. There are hundreds of miles of gorgeous rolling nothing occasionally punctuated by estancias so remote they make you lonely and cold just looking at them.
We found a burning lake. “Land of Fire” indeed!
Then after the perfect lead up to the end of the world, the Andes give it one last “Hurrah!” and you are back in the mountains.
These mountains are only about 2-3000 feet high and are perennially snow-capped.
The only down note is sight of the dying trees. Here and for thousands of miles to the north almost all the trees are dead or dying from a parasitic moss. I have never seen anything like it.
We stopped outside of town for the obligatory sign picture.
The weather had been threatening and occasionally following through all day, but as we came in to Ushuaia it really unleashed with a cold, driving rain and properly ripping wind. Welcome to the end of the world!
It cleared up about 15 minutes later and we got our first good look at the town.
It’s fantastic! I fired up an end-of-the-world cigar and we strolled the promenade drinking it in.
The town itself is the perfect mix of old fishing village and lively tourist destination. There are fantastic restaurants, falling-down shacks and everything in between.
I had perhaps the best piece of meat of the entire trip that evening.
Far from being a let-down, Ushuaia turned out to be a fitting end to an epic journey.
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