Wind and Wildlife in Patagonia – Heading South along the Argentinian Coast

Happy New Year, everyone! Mark, Maya, and I wish you all a healthy, productive, inquisitive, comfortable, and adventurous 2025. Thank you for following Roaming About and appreciating that crazy lifestyle of ours.

I finally finished my Patagonia wildlife post, which contains lots of photos and videos. This footage hopefully gives you a better representation of our incredible encounters. Enjoy!

After “killing” a month of time in and around Uruguay in anticipation of less cold weather in the south, Mark and I deemed November 1^st a good time to cross the border into Argentina again and head to Patagonia along the Atlantic Coast. It was still spring in the Southern Hemisphere, but the goal was to reach Ushuaia, the bottom of the continent, by December 21^st, the start of the austral summer.

(As always, hover over or click on the photos in the galleries to read their captions.)

We had a rough start of this 2,500-mile (3,750km) southbound journey in Gualeguaychú with lack of sleep due to a motorcycle event with revving engines until 2am and youth partying behind our camper at 4am. We packed up and moved in the dark to settle at a fuel station by 5:15am.

This was followed by hours of driving and eventually settling in a nice and free municipal campground for a few days to work. After that commitment, the three of us started to cover miles along a boring Ruta 3, stopping at a few points of interest and stocking up on groceries before reaching a more remote and expensive Patagonia.

One of the interesting sites we picked for a visit was Laguna de Epecuén, which draws tourists because of its eerie appearance. On November 6^th, 1985 (exactly 39 years prior to our visit), an unusual weather pattern destroyed the dam and dike protecting the village of Villa Epecuén, flooding the area. This resort destination was never rebuilt and became a ghost town. Skeletal trees stand guard day and night, enhancing the barren scenario.

Most overlanders drive to Ushuaia via the Andes Mountains that straddle the Argentinian-Chilean border, which is a more scenic route than our choice near and along the Atlantic Coast. There are three reasons we picked this “faster” and “boring” side of the continent: we were already located in the east when starting the last stretch of our journey south, we hoped to spend most of the summer in the Andes on our drive back north, and this route offered wildlife encounters.

Besides the random flamingoes, no interesting animals had crossed our path yet. That was about to change in Balneario El Condor, located at the northern edge of Patagonia. This, we learned after going through multiple agriculture checkpoints. We arrived in the province of Rio Negro on El Dia de la Tradicion (November 10^th) and were greeted by cute children offering goodies and cheaper fuel!

El Condor might be located off the beaten track, but we really recommend a stop here if you have your own vehicle. This is where the biggest colony of burrowing parrots in the world is situated.

Miles of cliffs are inhabited by these pretty, squawking birds that are a delight to witness. Yes, they are loud! Luckily, they go to sleep at night, but the nights at this time of the year are short. They made sure we went to bed with them and woke up with the first sunrays!

One day, we walked along the beach for a first glimpse of these birds. That evening, we climbed a hill for happy hour with a view – of the sea and the parrots.

Then, we moved to a new camping spot on the cliffs and observed the colony from above. The following morning, the wind had picked up and we witnessed them soar above us from the beach. So cool!

We followed a scenic, gravel, coastal road and camped on a bluff by ourselves. To our surprise, the same breed of parrots still nested here and kept us company, many miles away from El Condor. After three nights among these fascinating creatures, it was time to move on.

Why would we leave the main road, Ruta 3, for a detour along the coast on a 100km gravel road? To enjoy the scenery, find remote and quiet camping spots, and drive slower and shorter distances into a strong headwind! Often, the winds in Patagonia come from the south, from chilly Antarctica. Along this stretch, we spotted sea lions and guanacos and played in the sand dunes.

So far, we had been okay with the strong winds Patagonia is famous for, but once we reached Puerto San Antonio Este and further south, we needed to start planning around its velocity. We parked with our nose towards the SW, tried to find some protection, and decided to stay put when it blew too hard, avoiding our fuel consumption from getting even worse.

On one of those days at a shell beach, the wind turned 180 degrees, from the south to the north, and within 20 minutes the outside temperature changed from 58 degrees (14C) to 88 degrees (31C)!!! It was one of the weirdest things we ever experienced.

Another long day of driving brought us to the city of Puerto Madryn, the jumping-off point for the Valdes Peninsula, which teems with wildlife. The entire peninsula is a national park, for which you pay $30 per person to enter. Yes, we wanted to see elephant seals, whales, and orcas, but we weren’t willing to pay $60 for that privilege.

Our first plan of action in this city was to get our pantry cabinet fixed, which had fallen off its tracks on bad roads. We also needed to buy food, drop off laundry, and finish job assignments. In between all that, we parked on beaches and waited patiently (while completing other projects) for whales to appear. In vain.

Despite arriving late in the whale watch season, we had one more lead to potentially spot whales: Punta Ninfas, a natural area at the end of a gravel/sandy road that could turn into mud after heavy rains. Therefore, it was a tricky destination, another 100 km east of Puerto Madryn. The drive there was surprisingly easy and took only two hours.

Our camping spot on the cliff was pretty and the sun was out that first day, but we didn’t see whales or orcas, just a colony of elephant seals on the beach below us. That evening a Border Collie with a collar showed up. We assumed it belonged to a neighboring farm. At night, the wind blew so strong that our camper shook as if we were sailing on rough seas. And, yes, I did get seasick!

The following morning, I had to work, but the people “on watch” for sea creatures spotted a pod of orcas. By the time I put more clothes on and rushed outside, I could only see their fins through binoculars. A storm was predicted, so the other campers headed out to avoid getting stuck in the mud. The loose dog was left behind, so we took care of her with love, food, water, and shelter.

On our last day at the point, Mark and I descended the cliff to observe the elephant seals on the beach. It was a great experience to just sit and watch them… mostly sleep!

Nobody stopped by or looked for the Border Collie (we named her Ninfa) and trying to find her owner – with the help of an Argentinian friend – was fruitless. So, we spent days online – mainly on local animal groups on Facebook – in an attempt to rehome her. Once we confirmed a family who would take her in, we all returned to Puerto Madryn. The sandy road had become treacherous with many puddles and detours and our new charge, who traveled on my lap, got car sick and puked. The ride took three hours this time.

Back in the city, we met Ninfa’s new family and handed them extra goodies, like a leash, flea and tick shampoo, and a blanket. It was a heart-warming experience all around after an emotionally draining and stressful period.

Another surprise awaited us in the evening, when Canadian friends, Sheri and Jeff, joined us sooner than expected.

Together, we visited the Welsh village of Gaiman for a traditional “high tea” ceremony and to explore the historical sites.

On the drive to Gaiman, we made a quick stop in Trelew to check out a huge replica of the biggest dinosaur in the world.

Sheri and Jeff also met us at the pretty El Farallon rock to camp and then celebrate my birthday in Puerto Deseado, a sizeable detour from Ruta 3. I forgot that November 28th was also the fourth anniversary of my memoir, Plunge!

I had hoped to join a penguin tour to Isla Pingüino with Mark, hence the detour, but once there, we learned that the prices had gone up from $80 per person to $140! After a discount… If I’d known that ahead of time, we probably would have skipped this area. But we seem to be two of the few overlanders who actually update the iOverlander app, instead of just using it.

But now that we were here and it was my special day, Mark suggested that I’d go nevertheless. Sheri joined me and the men stayed home.

Luckily, we found a pretty place to camp and walk Maya.

The tour was enjoyable and special, but the price, really, was way too high for three hours on an island (and a two-hour boat ride) to observe Rockhopper penguins, as all the other species (Magellanic penguins, seals, and sea lions), we’d see or seen in the wild elsewhere.

Of course, all the wildlife encounters were still magnificent and unique.

The following days were consumed by stronger winds, taking the weather into account when driving, decent camping spots, more work, and switching hosting sites for this blog, which was not an easy matter.

Then, our quest to see penguins continued at Punta Quilla near Puerto Santa Cruz, where an hour-long walk over a pebble beach brings you to a colony of Magellanic penguins. In this habitat, the eggs had produced chicks, so it was amazing to watch and listen to the nesting birds.

A quick stop at Monte Leon National Park offered Mark more glimpses of this penguin species, while I stayed home with Maya. December 4^th was her birthday and she deserved a more fun day than hours upon hours of driving on gravel roads (with scary rocks pouncing on the metal of the car) or being left alone for a couple of hours again. This was her day!

(Turn up the volume in the next video to hear the strange sound – like braying donkeys – these penguins make.)

Rio Gallegos is a big city towards the bottom of the Argentinian mainland. It was a good place to run errands (laundry, grocery shopping, buying parts, continuing the hosting switch, creating family calendars for 2025…), work, and get Maya’s paperwork in order to cross the border into Chile.

After one loud and sleepless night along the waterfront, we managed to find a quieter place to camp over the weekend, well outside of town, and even fit in an oil change on a morning with less wind.

Entering the island of Tierra del Fuego (who knew it was an island?) struck a chord with me. It’s one of those places you learned about in geography class, that sounded exciting and remained a mystery, even more so than Patagonia. Until now! I was surprised to learn from Mark that there is no English translation for Tierra del Fuego. In Dutch, it’s called Vuurland – Land of Fire or Fireland.

First, we had to cross the border into Chile, before we could cross the channel by ferry onto Tierra del Fuego, which, by the way is split in half between Chile and Argentina. It’s a bit messy.

Mark, Maya, and I met our friends again, who booked a King penguin tour at a preserve on the Chilean side of the island. We – again – didn’t want to pay the high entrance fee and hoped to spot these creatures somewhere in the wild.

We spent the next night at a pretty lake, but, unfortunately, needed to leave that area sooner than planned due to predicted rains and gravel/sandy roads potentially making passage back into Argentina impossible.

Much more driving followed. Besides seeing plenty of guanacos along the gravel roads, we spotted the remains of ones that tried to jump the fences – which line properties along the main route on both sides – and got stuck to die a horrible death. Every time we saw an animal run away from the sound of our truck, we hoped they would jump over a lower fence or just run along it. Tense moments.

Crossing back into Argentina happened at a summer border post, which was super cute, quiet, fast, and convenient. We and our friends were the only travelers at that time and smiled at the laid-back yet efficient procedures.

For some reason, Mark and I dreaded arriving in Ushuaia, but weren’t sure why. True, we don’t like cities, we didn’t know what to expect, and it was “the end of the road” – and for many others, the end of their journey through the Americas. We preferred to linger and postpone that moment. So, we found a pretty, remote, and quiet camping spot by a lake, before reaching the big destination!

I’ll leave you with a short video of one of our drives with Thirsty Bella behind a herd of cows. 🙂

PS: This blog post has a lot of visual effects and might be slow to load. Please let me know if you experience issues, since it would be interesting to find out how our new hosting company deals with this.

Next up: Our expense report for December 2024

Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs, check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir: