A Day in Cape Town

27-Feb-2007:

After I left you at 6.20 this morning, I sampled the Cape Grace's continental breakfast before setting out, armed with a hotel map, to walk to the city centre. Incidentally, the hotel is just celebrating ten years of trading (see http://www.capegrace.com/). Well, I found Grand Parade with its town hall of Bath stone imported from England and located the main station, before returning to the hotel in time to be picked up for the 'Walk to Freedom' tour. There were two ladies from Essex on the tour, plus a girl and boy from Potsdam University doing a study on tour guides. The three of us on the tour had to complete questionnaires for the students both before and after the tour. The tour guide, Colin, was excellent and took us through the history of the Cape from initial discovery through to the introduction of Apartheid by the Nationalists just after the Second World War and the birth of democracy so recently. We visited a social history museum, the District 6 Museum. Then we visited the large township of Langa. The pattern of different types of housing is similar to Soweto, but in this case, we were taken right into peoples homes and invited to take photographs. A rather voyeuristic and sobering exercise. We also looked at a couple of bars, where the range of spirits on sale suggests on possible problem area in townships. Then we were taken to a primary school where a large group of infants sang to us. I'm still sorting out my responses to our experience in the township but it was very affecting. We were then taken to the Waterfront where our guide attempted to get our pre-booked tickets for the afternoon tour to Robben Island, where Mandela was imprisoned. To Colin's astonishment, they had cancelled all todays for unspecified 'technical' reasons. I walk back to the hotel and formulate an alternate plan.

The hotel books a helicopter ride for me and there's time for a light lunch before the helicopter company pick me up by taxi. I had an excellent flight and the same taxi driver sets off to return me to my hotel. After a while, we change plans and the driver takes me to the Table Mountain Cable Car and I ascend for breath-taking views from over 3,000 feet up. The taxi then returns me to my hotel. But I'm not quite finished. I walk to the main station, book to Belville and catch the lightly-loaded 18:40 train (3 foot 6 inch gauge electric trains). After a brief look around, it's back to Cape Town as it drops dark, walk to the hotel, have a simple meal and post this update. Then, I must get ready: I've an early start for home tomorrow!

Pictures of Cape Town.

Cape Town

Tuesday, 27-Feb-2007: The last posting was done on a rather cranky computer at the British Airways Terrace Lounge at Johannesburg. No two computers I've used on my travels have behaved the same, but we've managed!

Once the flight was called, I made my way to the gate and outside to a transfer bus. The noise from nearby aircraft was intense. We started to drive across the apron, but had to wait while two aircraft taxied in front of us, only yards away. When we did move again, two other aircraft were manoevring quite close. The aircraft for the two-hour shuttle flight to Cape Town was a Boeing 737-400. This has 3 plus 3 seating with a small curtained-off area at the front for business class. I had 3 seats all to myself. The evening meal was simpler than I've been getting on long-haul flights, but completely made up for by the friendly attentions of the two lady cabin staff looking after us. South African BA staff seem a different breed from the usually-snooty UK staff. We were a little late away because they had to extract the hold baggage of three passengers they'd "off-loaded". We never found out why the passengers were off-loaded. We had a good flight and arrived at Cape Town more or less on time. Again, a coach took us to the terminal and I noticed that the early evening in Cape Town was decidedly cooler than Johannesburg had been. The luggage turned up on the carousel quite quickly and the young man from the travel company was displaying my name in the Arrivals Hall, so the two of us were soon speeding towards my hotel in a 12-seater personnel carrier.

I hadn't realised that Cape Town was so large (population around 4.5 million). It has a large central area dominated by built on land reclaimed from the sea by the Dutch (they were always good at that sort of thing). I'm at the Cape Grace, an impressive (though modern) hotel down at the harbour. My large bedroom overlooks the yacht marina and Table Mountain. Then there's a hallway with dressing room and bathroom leading off. The bathroom has a separate WC cubicle and shower cubicle. All very satisfactory.

It's now 6.20 am as I post this and getting light, so I must leave you.

Pictures of Cape Town.

Leaving Johannesburg

Monday, 26-Feb-2007: This morning, I visit TSI Communications in Aeroton for a business meeting. Paul and Andre make me most welcome and I am impressed with their product range and their operation.

I'm picked up by taxi and returned to the Michelangelo. I walk around Sandton, looking at the huge shopping mall and the numerous restaurants offering every type of food you can imagine. Very Canary Wharf. I've a little time left to relax at the Michelangelo, so I have a light lunch in the hotel. The architecture may not be to my taste but the well-run hotel's obsessive attention to detail scores highly with me. Afterwards, I spend some time in a very decent book shop and talk with a very interesting salesman there about various topics, including the iniquity of charging Luxury Tax and VAT on books, as they do in South Africa. A shower in the hotel then I'm picked up by CC Africa and taken to the airport. Shortly, I'll be boarding the flight to Cape Town, the last place I visit on my marathon journey before returning home.

Johannesburg

Saturday, 24-Feb-2007: The flight from Perth is another 'Code Share'. I booked with Quantas and get to use the Quantas lounge, but the actual flight is operated by South African Airways, using an Airbus A340.

So here I am, over the Indian Ocean, in a South African Airlines Airbus A340-200, headed for Johannesburg. The flight took off right time, 12:50 and they served a very good meal. Now they've turned off the lights to encourage us to sleep. Sleep? It's only 2.00 pm in Perth and eight o'clock in the morning at our destination. Still, it's a good, electric recline seat (including lumbar support and, if you want it, a massage feature) and they supply a duvet, so I try to get some rest. At the halfway point in the flight, they serve little tubs of ice cream. It's amazing how we now accept the wonders of long-distance air travel - a journey of about 5,000 miles scheduled to take around ten and a half hours. Our current speed is 489 mph, altitude is 39,000 feet and the outside air temperature is minus 59 Celsius. And yet, all I feel is boredom ('are we there yet?') and minor irritation that not all the feature films seem to be working correctly on my console. But the food is excellent and the cabin staff friendly and attentive.

When we land, somewhat ahead of schedule I believe, we disembark via covered steps to the tarmac, where I manage to get in the first bus to the terminal. There's only a short queue at passport control which is quick and friendly and only a few minutes to wait for my bag to come out. Customs is equally brief so I'm soon in the Arrivals Hall, looking for someone displaying my name. Nobody! Well, I locate a driver from my hotel who's come for somebody else and says he'll take me if my ride doesn't turn up. After a couple of minutes, he points to a girl who's appeared and she's displaying my name. The girl apologises (unneccessarily): she didn't expect the flight to be early. We're soon bowling along the motorway system to the Michelangelo Hotel at Sandton (www.michelangelo.co.za).

Check-in is friendly and painless - the room is more than adequate. Of course, I would normally stay at a city centre location, preferably at a classic site. But the notorious lawlessness of Johannesburg means that almost all of the hotels and half the businesses moved out to the 'new town' of Sandton, where the Michelangelo is sited. I'm told a mixture of CCTV and high-profile policing has reduced crime in the city by 80% but I wonder if business will come back?

The hotel architecture is a mixture of modern and faux-Roman which I associate with casinos and certainly isn't my preference, but the facilities are good and the staff extremely helpful. It's only about 7:30 pm local time but it seems much later to me, so I have a long soak in the good-sized bath and go to bed.

Sunday, 25-Feb-2007:

I initially sleep soundly but, once awake, have difficulty sleeping again for noisy air conditioning. The a/c in my room has been off since I arrived (my usual technique) but I can hear the air conditioning elsewhere in the hotel and, through the window, the air conditioning in the building opposite. I get up early (I haven't completely accommodated to the time change from Perth) and start to make arrangements. My multiway electrical adaptor, which has worked in every country I've visited to date, doesn't work in South Africa. No problem - reception can loan one. They use what looks like the old British three-pin 15-Amp plugs. I buy some time on their computer and catch up on e-mails. They've got quite a nice customer lounge with a couple of computers. After that, I appear to be the first one in for breakfast at 6:30 am and I enjoy a leisurely continental breakfast.

Then I take a walk round the block. Lots of modern buildings and what I'm told is the second-largest shopping mall in the Southern hemisphere. Interesting, but not really my style. Not wanting to spend the whole morning in the hotel or the mall, I book a morning tour of Johannesburg (I'm already booked on an afternoon tour of Soweto). I'm picked up at 8:30 am by a guide called Victor with a people carrier. We have one other pick-up for the tour at a nearby hotel and the three of us set off for Johannesburg. After a drive around the city centre, we take the motorway to Soweto. This means that there's going to be some overlap between the morning and afternoon tours. For the afternoon tour, I have Desmond. The history of Soweto is so complex and the approach of the two guides so different that the two tours were complementary. Mind you,when I get back to my room, just after 5:00 pm, I'm exhausted.

So, what did I see? Johannesburg was created by the Gold Rush which followed the discovery of gold by two Australian prospectors at the end of the 19th century. The city has some decent buildings from the 1900s, interspersed with skyscrapers which give it an American feel. One row of elderly shops has been preserved with the sign 'Nie Blankes' as a reminder of the apartheid era. Ghandi Square is nearby - remember, he practised law in South Africa for some time.

Close to the city lie the spacious houses built for the original city entrepreneurs around 1900. Not far away is the present millionaires row where house costs average around one million pounds. Depessingly, they are surrounded by high walls, surveillance systems and round-the-clock security. I saw the house Nelson Mandela occupied when president and another, one of the four houses he currently owns with his third wife.

Distances around Johannesburg mean that the city is threaded with flyovers and motorways. We take the route to the sprawling Soweto (SOuth WEstern TOwnship), passing the preserved pit head gear to Shaft Number 5. All around are the strange-looking, yellow mine dumps. Gold Reef City is a theme park with two more examples of preserved headgear. On the outskirts of Soweto, there is a middle class area with detached houses which would not look out of place in the U.K. Next, there are more modest houses with some facilities. Then, there are great long barrack blocks - the Hostels dating from the 1950s with communal taps and no power. These areas are illuminated with very tall lighting stanards, called locally 'Apollo Lights' originally provided to improve police surveillance.

Although there was a Soweto power station, it did not supply power to Soweto. It's now derelict, awaiting development as the inevitable shopping mall. The two massive cooling towers are now painted - one depicting scenes from South Africa's history, the other advertising a bank.

Some areas of crude wooden shantys still remain - the Government is committed to eliminating them in the next seven years, in an attempt to make Soweto a decent, self-sufficient city. Light industry is being encouraged, apartments are being built for rent and the private sector are being involved in housing developments, like the gaily painted apartments we passed similar to ones I've seen in Canary Wharf.

We pass through a street market selling everything from live chickens to huge plastic bowls which are used in lieu of baths and go to Freedom Square, where the ambitious bill of rights was adopted. We see 'Winnie's House' purchased for Nelson Mandela by an unlikely group of supporters including Qaddaffi, Jane Fonda and Clint Eastwood prior to Mandela's release from Robben Island and passed to Winnie in the divorce. I tour the more modest home Mandela lived in prior to his incarceration, now owned by a museum trust.

We visit the innocent-looking crossroads where, in 1976, the thousands of marching student protesters were stopped by police and shots were fired with tragic results. I visit the large Catholic church which gave sanctuary to the protesters and still displays the bullet holes from the ensuing firefight. The signatures of Nelson Mandela, Bill and Hillary Clinton and Chris Rock are pointed out to me in the visitors book. Finally, the Hector Peterson memorial and museum, movingly telling the story of the troubled events of 1976. Hector, you may remember, was fatally wounded in the shooting and the attempts to get him to hospital were immortalised in a famous photograph.

A new football stadium is being built in Orlando district for the forthcoming World Cup and an existing stadium is being extended. We see the biggest hospital in Africa - Chris Hani. Baragwanath and the black university. We see budding entrepreneurs running car wash businesses in the street, the single public park for the four million residents of Soweto, the horse drawn carts, the huge drive-in cinema atop a spoil heap. So many images, so much to ponder on.

Pictures.

Leaving Perth

Friday, 23-Feb-2007: Late afternoon, Keith and I return to his home. He's invited me to accompany Fhines and himself to a barbeque in Freemantle. Before we leave, Anthony comes in for a while and, whilst trying to show him my photographs of the day, something nasty happens and the picture storage card becomes unreadable. I'll wait 'till I return to the U.K. to see if we can recover this series of photographs.

Postscript: After a bit of research on my return, I purchased Stellar Phoenix FAT & NTFS which successfully recovered all the photographs.

As you might imagine, there's a lot of interest in the marine in Perth, and the barbeque is for members of the steam boat fraternity, hosted by Bill Atterton, an enthusiast with a garage containing a diesel-fired steam boiler connected to a beautiful 2-cylinder compound launch steam engine which he rescued. There are a couple of the ever-popular 'Seagull' outboards on display and two other enthusiasts have brought along launch-type steam engines which they have built for the rest to study. A pleasant couple of hours is spent eating, drinking and talking about steam, steam engines and, occasionally, locomotives. Our host then 'brews-up' and runs his engine, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. Keith and Fhines return me to my hotel in Perth and, with reluctance, we say goodbye for this visit. I'm grateful to Keith and all his friends for making my stay in Perth so memorable.

Saturday, 24-Feb-2007: I get up fairly early and start my packing. By 6:10, I'm walking to the station for one last trip on the Midland electric suburban line to its terminus at Midland. I see the remains of the old locomotive works, check out the dual-gauge trackwork in this vicinity, walk round part of the town, examine a preserved 'Dubs' 4-4-0 and watch a very lengthy diesel-hauled standard-gauge freight rumble through towards Perth. On the way back to the city, we pass the railway museum at Bassendean and the standard-gauge inter-state passenger terminal at East Perth.

Back to the hotel, my last buffet breakfast followed by a short walk to the Swan River, check out and to the airport.

My pictures

Perth (Western Australia) Railway pictures.

Railway Preservation in Perth

Friday, 23-Feb-2007: I start the day with the usual buffet breakfast followed by 1.5 hours on e-mails, blogs and uploading a few photos. Then Keith picks me up and we drive to the Rail Transport Museum at Bassendean. The President, Jim Oliver (a former footplateman in steam days) has agreed to open the museum specially so that I can study their wonderful collection of locomotives, coaches, wagons and artefacts. We spend a happy couple of hours clambering over locomotives and my photographs are here. My thanks go to Jim for his hospitality.

Lunch is a visit to 'Subway' for a splendid sandwich, after which we drive to the large country park at Whiteman Park, just 10 miles from the centre of Perth. I'm amazed at the scale of the yard supporting the 600m gauge railway operation which gives visitors a ride of almost 8km. They're not steaming today but a number of very friendly volunteers are working on various maintenance and restoration projects. Click for photographs of Whiteman Park.

Perth, Western Australia

Wednesday, 21st February 2007
Well, Quantas staff can be relied upon to lift your mood on any flight, so I arrived at Perth late at night but fairly content. A bit of a wait for taxis to the city but before midnight I was in a comfortable room at the Duxton hotel.

Thursday, 22nd February 2007
A few hours of sleep, an excellent buffet breakfast and a bit of internet work at the Perth Convenience Store, just across the road from the hotel. This is about the best Internet Shop I've come across anywhere - only four seats but all the equipment works and it's quite a fast internet connection, so I've uploaded some photographs to my travel site. Check out 'Stop Press' and 'Antartic Dream's Engine Room'.

I make telephone contact with my friend Keith Watson, whom I've yet to meet in person and arrange to go to his home at 10:00 am. In the meantime, I renew my acquaintance with the city centre and the railway station. The day is starting to warm up nicely. The hotel arranges a taxi to take me to Keith's but, to my surprise, the taxi driver gives me his Gazetteer and suggests I navigate to where we're going. But we get there without incident and I meet Keith, his friend Dennis and Sharon the 'Staffy' dog. Keith has laid out an intensive day for me, so we're soon heading South on State Route 20 to Yarloop. Yarloop is about 75 miles South of Perth through tinder-dry bush. The road was temporarily closed a few days ago because of bush fires.

Yarloop is the home of 'Yarloop Workshops', an industrial museum. In 1895, the Millar brothers arrived from England and obtained a contract to build railways for the state of Victoria. The complex they established at Yarloop eventually became the biggest timber centre in the world and home of the biggest private steam railway in the world. The vulnerable wooden preserved workshops at Yarloop include sawmills, locomotive workshops, pattern stores and hold a history of the Company Town of Yarloop, including almost all of the town's original library collection. It's a fascinating place.

Enthusiasts have brought together a group of working steam stationary engines which the volunteers are preparing for the next public steaming day and I meet Colin, Roger and the rest of the crew. They've done some remarkable work here and I am proud to be invited to share lunch with them. I clamber over everything in sight, particularly Colin's splendid re-creation of a Sydney steam Tram. I meet Geoff Fortune, who has written the Guide Book to the museum, together with 'Yarloop, No Better Place' (ISBN 1 876760 095), a detailed history of Yarloop.

There's a short piece about Timber Production in Western Australia here and my pictures of Yarloop are here.

All to soon, Keith and I are re-tracing our steps to Pinjarra, home of a major preserved railway: the Hotham Valley Railway (see www.hothamvalleyrailway.com.au). It's not part of their operating season, but we're able to go round their locomotive workshops and check out a remarkable survivor built by Dubs. Their preserved line runs from Pinjarra to Dwellingup but is currently divided in three places where floods have taken out timber trestle bridges. I understand funds are available for the repair of perhaps one bridge. The relatively remote location of Pinjarra means that the railway has a major problem getting sufficient working volunteers. Pictures.

Closer to Perth, we inspect a 7.25 inch gauge railway being built around a new Nature Park at Byford. We meet Roger again and he shows me the quality of the work which has been completed (engine shed, carriage shed and extensive yard) and also the scale of the remaining task. All very impressive. Pictures.

Then it's back to Keith's home to meet Fhines, enjoy a meal together and spend an evening yarning about railways and engineering, joined later by Keith's friend Anthony.

[Links added 21-Jun-2016]

Auckland's Railways

A few years ago, they abandoned the previous Auckland station and constructed the present Britomart terminal at the end of a new tunnel. Bringing the Western line into the new route involved constructing what I'm told is the tightest curve in New Zealand. Local services are based on three lines, all terminating at Britomart. Two lines go South, one near the shore (called the East Line), one inland (called the South Line). These routes combine at Westfield and continue to Papakura. This is an important station, currently in the throes of a major rebuilding. The line further South is used by freight trains and the passenger service to Wellington. The West line is the third route. It shares the inland route as far as Newmarket, where West Line trains from Britomart reverse to reach the line to Waitemake. This line is single in part, but a major project, costing hundreds of millions of New Zealand dollars, is currently doubling the line.

In general, lines are double track, left-hand running. Track is 3'6" gauge, flat bottom on timber sleepers, although major renewals use concrete sleepers. The station at Britomart and the approach tunnel uses a solid, cast trackbed. Signalling is multiple aspect colour light. Stop signals are divided into Stop and Stay or Stop and Proceed types. Where necessary, an additional signal head is provided (either vertically in line with the first or displaced to the right) to allow permitted speed to be indicated to the driver. Most, but not all, of the three routes is part of a Centralised Traffic Control (CTC) system administered from Wellington. Because of the intensity of the service in the Auckland area, there are plans to devolve control to a sub-office in Auckland. There are two types of train operating the local services, diesel multiple units (DMU) and loco-hauled push and pull. The DMU design is based on the American Budd railcar, with underfloor-mounted engines driving via a fluid transmission. As speed increases, the drive is 'locked', to give good torque characteristics. There are two similar classes of DMU - the 'K' and the 'L', both built in Perth, Western Australia. In the earlier pattern, only one axle per power bogie is driven. The later version has both axles driven to improve adhesion.

Pictures of Auckland's commuter railways.

Leaving Auckland

21st-Feb-2007: I decide to check-out a couple more ferry routes, so I buy another day ticket and catch the service to Stanley Bay - lovely little bathing beach with a residential area behind. I meet a nonogenerian ex-serviceman who is keen to talk. It appears that he's going into Auckland by ferry this morning to attend a funeral. I accompany him back to Auckland, and then continue.

So, now it's time to leave New Zealand and fly to Australia. I get the Quantas 767 flight from Auckland to Melbourne, with a connecting flight to Perth. The Quantas staff are top-notch, very friendly and attentive. But I'm not a great fan of the 767 - seats and entertainment are primitive compared with what I'm now used to on long legs. But this leg is, I think, less than four hours.

We arrive in Melbourne where I have to go through immigration (a breeze) collect my big bag and then go through Customs. They decide on a bag inspection, so we spend 20 minutes going through my personal possessions (fortunately stopping short of the dirty laundry, of which there's plenty). And although we part on friendly terms, I don't react too well to people asking me why I stay such short periods in each place. When I ask them, they claim it's the complex itinerary and short stop-offs which triggered their interest. That's probably true but, of course, they're not bound to tell me the truth.

Ah well, I make it to the Quantas lounge, from where I'm doing this work. Tell you more when I can.

Auckland

Tuesday, 20-Feb-2007: This is the quick version. Arrived safely in Auckland, taxi to hotel but room not available for hours (even for money - they're fully booked). Buy railway ticket and make a round trip on the Eastern Line to Papakura. Railway web site http://www.maxx.co.nz/ refers. Go to ferry and make round trip to Bermondsey. Catch a 'bus up to Museum and have a really excellent breakfast there, then spend an hour or so in the splendid museum. Back to hotel - magnificent room now available. Shower, then go and check out the Western Line which goes to Waitakere. Then the trains stop 'cos a contractor has cut through a signal cable. Start to panic since Waitakere is tiny and miles from anywhere. After an hour or so, train arrives and the charming driver of the diesel multiple unit leaves the door to the cab open, so I can take photographs. When stationary, we chat about railway things. Possible disaster turns to triumph! Off to Perth tomorrow afternoon.

Additions Thursday, 22-Feb-2007:

The overnight flight from Santiago was due in 04:15, and it was on time. The airport was so quiet, I got through immigration very quickly. The was a little wait in the deserted baggage hall for the luggage, but it came through safely. Customs and quarantine didn't take long and soon I was outside, looking for a taxi. At that time of day, the drive to the hotel didn't take long. So, before 5:00 am, I was in the Heritage being told my room wouldn't be available 'till midday. Since every room was taken, even offering to pay extra didn't help. They gave me a pot of tea in the lobby and after a reasonable wash and a change, I was fully revived and set off to see what I could do in the city.

I wanted to try out the suburban railway system, so I went to the newish terminal station, Britomart, and caught the next train out, just before 5:30 and still dark. The station ticket office doesn't open until 7:30 am, but you can buy tickets on the train. There's only about six people on this early train, so the friendly Maori lady guard has time to discuss the ticket options. I settle for a 14 dollar bus/train/ferry day ticket, which turned out to be excellent value. The train was going to Papakura, on the line to the South and Wellington and the journey took around 50 minutes, including a number of stops. By now, it was getting light (although none too warm), so I had a walk round the suburban town centre. Buildings are fairly modern and undistinguished plus the inevitable large supermarket open 24/7. When I get back to the station, there's a lot more activity with people arriving to go to work or school and three trains are waiting to depart. I catch the second train and, although I get a seat, people getting on at each stop take the numbers up to 'crush loading' conditions.

When we arrive back in the city, I decide to see if my ticket really does work on the ferries. Britomart station is surrounded with bus stops on various routes and the ferry terminal is less than five minutes walk, so multi-modal journeys are quite practical.

I choose Bermondsey as a destination, because I'm sure it'll be nothing like the Bermondsey I know. Because I'm going 'against the flow' of commuters coming into Auckland, I'm the only passenger on a catamaran which can carry perhaps 150 people. Then, there are three crew. A ten-minute sail across the harbour takes us to the landing stage at Bermondsey where there are around 30 commuters waiting to go to work. I explore for half an hour or so. The day's starting to warm up and I watch some people fishing from the jetty. An old Maori woman isn't using a rod - she's just hand-casting her line. There's a huge marina here, with the sorts of businesses to support boating, like chandlery. As you leave the marina, you come to an extensive residential area. All detached houses, gardens not as large as I expected, obviously well looked after but a bit bland for my taste. I return to the landing stage and catch the next ferry back to Auckland. It really is delightful to be on the water in such a beautiful location.

There is a circular bus, called The Link, that runs round the city. It's particularly aimed at tourists, but a lot of locals use it, too. I take this service to the museum stop which is nowhere near the museum. In fact, I and about four others aiming for the museum have a little trouble interpreting the brief instructions given by the bus driver. A final, stiff climb takes us to the commanding, hill-top position occupied by the huge classical style building. The new Grand Atrium was only opened a couple of months ago. Within the confines of a building with heritage status, Noel Lane has constructed a multi-story bowl of Fijian Kauri wood. By this time, I was starting to flag a little, so I decided to stop for an all-day breakfast and pot of tea at the Atrium Restaurant. The food was nicely presented and absolutely delicious. Thus fortified, I tackled the museum exhibits, spread over three floors. In general, I was very impressed. The top floor forms New Zealand's National War Memorial and such exhibits as are on this floor relate to the various wars in which New Zealand has participated. I found that I rather approved. See Museum web site.

Another bus returned me to the city centre and, on arriving back at the hotel I was initially disappointed to find that my room was still not available. But all was forgiven at one o'clock when I got the key, because they'd upgraded me to a suite with a large lounge, separate bedroom and bathroom with both bath and generously-sized shower cubicle.

Auckland's commuter railways.

Whaling

There's the remains of a whaling factory at Whaler's Bay on Deception Island in the South Shetland Isles which I examined briefly in February 2007. My distaste for whaling means that I have never previously studied the processing involved but, confronted by this industrial archaeology, I felt the need to consider the operation to help to understand what I was looking at. But I had a mere 30 minutes to look at the site, so I have probably made a number of blunders. My interpretation was greatly assisted by subsequently reading the book cited below.

The blubber and other parts of the whale were cut up and mechanically minced before being placed in large steam pressure cookers called 'digesters', so as to extract the oil which was stored in huge tanks. The remaining solid material was converted into fertiliser.

At Whalers' Bay, the steam was produced by a series of vertical, dome-topped, rivetted boilers with circular section - Cochrane Boilers. The fireplace is at the bottom, with two hinged firedoors, side by side, presumably for coal-firing. At the rear, at low level, there is the remains of what might have been the means of regulating combustion air. Two flat, vertical, parallel tube plates divide off the water space. The two tube plates are conneected by a large number of horizontal smoke tubes. At the front, the curved shell is provided with a large hinged door, to allow access to the tube plate. The inside of this door is provided with a layer of firebrick. There is a similar, but smaller, aperture in the shell at the rear to lead away the exhaust gases. A framework, which was originally plated, is provided around this rear aperture to form the base for a circular, sectional, rivetted, vertical chimney. A plug-type safety valve is provided on the dome top. Relieving pressure is set by a counterweight fixed at the end of a long arm which holds the safety valve plug in place.

There was originally a rectangular tank mounted on a support structure at high level which was presumably the header tank for the boiler feed water. A part-buried Weir pump indicates the likely method of maintaining boiler water level.

I found two different groups of digester tanks, of slightly different sizes. They are vertical, closed cylinders. A rectangilar, hinged manhole is provided on the top for charging, with turnscrews to secure it tightly. I assume that there would have been a high-level walkway and means to get the whale material up to this level for charging the digesters. A reference in the book cited below refers to steam being applied for four hours, after which water would be fed into the digester to displace the whale oil which had been released. A second rectangular, hinged manhole is provided near ground level, again with turnscrews to secure it. Presumably, this was to allow the remaining solid material to be discharged for conversion to fertiliser.

Some yards away from the complex of steam boilers and digesters is a separate fireplace, now largely buried, somewhat similar in appearance to a Lancashire boiler. It is a substantial, rectangular construction of good-quality, red bricks, strengthened by metal banding. One smaller side is provided with a cast front mounting two hinged firedoors, side by side. Internally, the fireplace is lined with refractory bricks.

The most noticeable remaining feature of the factory is the oil storage tanks, because of their size. I am told that internally these tanks are provided with steam heating coils, presumbly to keep the oil sufficiently fluid at the low temperatures experienced.

A well-researched book on whales and whaling is 'The Whales' Journey', by Stephen Martin, published by Allen and Unwin, ISBN 1 86508 232 5.

It has been reported recently that the existing ban on whaling has been weakened. If you believe that the arguments in favour of such weakening of the ban are unconvincing, please add your voice to the call for a complete and effective ban on all forms of whaling.

Technical Problems

I've commented before on the problems of combining getting experiences with documenting at least some of them. On earlier trips, I've been impressed with the relative ease with which I've been able to keep in touch. But this time, I thought it might be useful to have "off-line text preparation facilities", so I bought a Hewlett-Packard iPAQ.

These are tiny computers you can hold in the palm of your hand with a simplified Windows operating system called, reasonably enough, Windows Mobile. In their basic form, to enter text you use a stylus to point to characters on a screen picture of a 'QWERTY' keyboard. It sounds dreadful, but I found it easier than expected. The unit arrived a few days before I left, so I was able to try it out and the problems I had I ascribed to "finger trouble" on my part.

But disaster struck on the first leg of the journey. I turned the unit off to conserve power and then it refused to turn on again. Eventually, a re-boot re-activated it, so I thought it must have 'crashed'. The next day, nothing I did would start it. In desperation, I got the mains power unit attached and continued to tinker. When it did turn on, it reported a completely flat battery. This was strange, 'cos the prevous day, I'd charged it fully. Well, I took out the battery and had a scratch at the terminals with a pair of nail scissors. Then I took my emery board and gave the spring-loaded terminals on the PDA which connect to the battery a bit of a polish. Not a nice thing to do to new equipment, I know, but so far it's proved effective. The PDA has ´Wi-Fi´ wireless connectivity. I got this to work for the first time in the hotel in Ushuaia but although e-mail worked and I could look at the internet, I couldn´t use Blogger. I've had the same experience in the hotel in Santiago - connected well all over the hotel but Blogger wouldn't work. Anyhow, it's proved useful and the 'off-line preparation' is the reason you´ve seen the blogs you have. But, I'm afraid, spelling and punctuation has been sacrificed to the need for speed.

Ferro Carril Fin Del Mundo

The Ferro Carril Fin Del Mundo is one of a small number of locations in the world pursuing more efficient steam traction. The work was originally inspired by the Argentinian locomotive engineer L. D. Porta, who was a consultant to the railway for a number of years. There are various diesel locomotives on the line but the mainstay of the tourist trains are three oil-burning steam locomotives arranged generally according to the Porta system and, I think, using 'Lempor' (Lemaitre - Porta) drafting. As far as I understand, combustion oxygen is supplied by steam which is dried by pre-heating through a helical tube before being used to atomise the diesel fuel. The divergent cone chimney is characteristic of the Porta system, as is the small tube which discharges steam upwards at an angle acoss the mouth of the chimney. On oil-burning locos, the firedoor is, of course, kept closed, but an upwards-angled inspection tube allows the flame status to be checked whilst standing on the footplate.Two of the locomotives are 0-4-0 + 0-4-0 Garretts. The third steam locomotive is a 2-6-2 side tank of attractive, elderly appearance. All three locomotives are normally in use, as departures are normally a 'flight' of three trains in one direction, followed by three returning trains. Train control is by one person acting as a train despatcher using radio.

My pictures of the railway.

'Antarctic Dream' technical notes

'Antarctic Dream' was built in Holland for the Chilean Navy and has an electric propulsion system. When de-commissioned by the Navy, she was privately purchased and converted into, I think, one of the more luxurious vessels doing Antarctic trips. We had 70 passengers - maximum capacity is about 82.

On entering the engine room, the Reverse Osmosis plant for de-salinating sea water lies to our left, the Chlorination Plant to the right. Moving further into the engine room, we pass three electrical control panels for 110, 220 and 440 volts. We then come to the engine room telegraph, a twin to the unit on the bridge. On ships, these always used to be a pair of interconnected 3-phase 'Selsyns' and I found no evidence that 'Antarctic Dream is different. Opposite the telegraph is what appears to be the control panel for the direction and speed of the screw. At a lower level, three compression-ignition ('diesel') engines are mounted fore-and-aft across the width of the hull. Each engine is a Cummins V12 developing around 1,200 horse power and it appears that all three engines are normally kept running. Each engine is directly-coupled to a 440 volt d.c. Main Generator. To the stern of the Main Generators, there is a single, huge d.c. motor, mounted so as to drive the single propellor shaft which is on the centre-line of the ship. Any one Main Generator is capable of driving the ship.

Leaving Santiago

Sunday, 18-Feb-2007:
Written Sunday evening, 22:00 hours:

Well, I arrived in Santiago last night and, already, I'm leaving. I've started to write up some notes but I'll publish them later. Every computer I get to has a different keyboard, hence the missing apostrophes in this post (now corrected). I'm checked in on a Quantas Code Share to Auckland, which means it's actually a Lan Chile flight and it's the Lan Chile lounge I'm sending this from.

This is the long, overnight leg where I'll lose a complete day crossing the International Date Line.

More soon!

Chile's Railways

Sunday, 18-Feb-2007: I've commented before on how successfully I feel the old Santiago terminal of Estacion Centrale has been adapted for modern use. This time I determined to make a short journey.

The station is the terminus of the old Southern Railway joining the capital to the South of the country. The line is now operated by EFE and seems to be divided into two groups of services - the long distance Blue Trains and the stop everywhere 'Metrotren'. I chose the latter and decided on a journey of just under an hour to San Francisco, about 40 miles South of Santiago. Even on a Sunday, there's a train every half hour, although some extra peak period trains are missing. The terminus is now called Alameda, after the district in which it's situated. Signage at the station is minimal and there's no electronic indicators, but, if you look carefully, there's just enough help to get you to the right place. They make widespread use of clockfaces with moveable hands to indicate which service is which.

The line is broad gauge using high-poundage Vignoles (flat-bottom) rail section with fishplates and a variety of rail fastenings. Timber sleepers are still widely used and, on the main line, these are generally in good condition. Considerable lengths of track have been re-laid with pre-cast concrete sleepers. The route and most loops and sidings were electrified on the overhead system some years ago, so I suppose it's around 1500 volts d.c. Catenary structure is old-fashioned and heavy duty, with rigid, fabricated portal structues. There's also extensive use of pre-cast concrete pylons.

Signalling is colour light but elderly. There appear to be two types -
a) searchlight pattern, probably 2-aspect, with electro-mechanical colour change and tubular post
b) 2-aspect signal heads with individual lamps and built-up signal post.

There are a few gantry structures. In most cases, the two aspect signal heads have another, smaller, 2-aspect head fitted lower down the post. On subsidiary lines, the smaller 2-aspect head may appear on its own. The round signal posts usually have a red-white 'barber's pole' colour scheme to assist visibility. The built-up signal posts are fitted with red-white marker plates on the approach side.

A set of replacement signals have been installed along the route, but these are not yet in use. All the new signal heads have been turned through 90 degrees to indicate 'out of use'. The new signals generally have 3 lamp positions (sometimes with positions blanked off), with an additional subsidiary aspect below and to the right.

There is a series of new, concrete equipment rooms, presumably associated with the introduction of the new signals.

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif All the passenger trains I saw were multiple unit, reasonably modern and with some form of air conditioning and power operated sliding doors. Normally, doors are released by the guard in each station but they do not open until a passenger control is pressed. The control comprises red and green buttons inside and outside each set of doors. There were some interesting, if elderly, electric locomotives standing around, but I couldn't get photographs from the moving train. There was a Bo-Bo with a conventional pantograph and American-style 'noses' at each end.

Santiago

18-Feb-2007: This is my second visit to Santiago - I was here around a year ago. I'm still a little tired from yesterday, so I have a leisurely breakfast and it's nearly 9.30 am when I set of for the nearest Metro station, Los Leones, just a couple of hundred yards from the hotel. I go 12 stops to Estation Centrale. It's fairly quiet but a nice space. I look at where I might go to by train, but defer the decision until later. Instead, I start to walk back towards where I've come from, looking at the architecture and trying to take it all in. Just like the first time, I'm very taken with Santiago.

After a few miles of walking (!), I reach the church and convent of San Francisco. There's a recommended ecclesiastical museum here, so I make a visit. The buildings, paintings and artefacts are mainly 300 - 500 years old. Very interesting, very peaceful. The cloisters enclose a garden with a number of now-mature trees. There's a noisy cockerel strutting around the garden and he comes up to me in obvious anticipation. I look up and spot a plastic bag hanging in a tree. I reach it down and, as I guessed, it's birdseed. So the cockerel gets a little food before I leave.

I cross the wide boulevard I've been walking along using the access stairways to the Metro station of Santa Lucia. Can you think of a more delicious name for a major street than "The Avenue of the Liberator Bernard O'Higgins"? The Cerro Santa Lucia is in front of me. This is a small, steep hill turned into gardens with a network of paths and steps, a castellated lookout point (good views over the city make the climb worthwhile), chapel, ornamental staircases and fountains - a pot-pourri of styles that I find irresistible. Although there is no charge for entry, the charming security guards do require you to place your name and passport number on their list. Passport number? My passport is tucked away in the hotel safe and I certainly don't remember the number but, that's OK, they say. A rather bizarre piece of officialdom which just adds to the charm for me.

Slightly glowing from my exertions, I return to the Santa Lucia station and catch the subway back to my hotel. It's hotel check out time, but I decide to pay to keep the room until this evening, when I actually need to leave. So, after a shower, I go down to the lobby bar for a Coca Cola. Then it's back on the subway to the main railway station. I find subways are a good place for people watching - you can watch how the locals go about their lives without standing out too much, assuming you're not dressed too obviously as a tourist and festooned with an expensive camera.

It's just after 1.00 pm now, and Estacion Centrale is really thronged now. There's noise and bustle, but everybody seems good-natured. It's hot, so I decide on an ice cream. Once I work out I want a "cono vanilla", I get an excellent and cheap ice cream. Since it's a Macdonalds ice cream booth, there's also a wide range of 'McFlurry' type products at four times the price.

I decide to travel to San Francisco, partly 'cos that's the name of the hotel in Santiago a couple of friends off the boat were staying at, partly because that was the name of the museum I'd visited, partly for comic value ('no, not that San Francisco') and largely because I thought I could pronounce it.

Successfully armed with a ticket, I board a quite-presentable electric train for the 50 minute journey South. We're soon batting along, with a lot of whistling for the numerous foot and road level crossings we pass. In the poorer districts, there are a lot of rather indifferent-looking blocks of flats with a few wooden shacks on railway land. There's a lot of rubbish just lying around.

What strikes me most is the frequency of little informal shrines right on the trackside. They look just like the Spirit Houses you find in the far East. They vary in construction from wood to brick, simple to elaborate, some unkempt, some clearly tended. One even sports a cane settee facing the shrine, presumably for the comfort of those left behind when they visit the departed.

We pass vineyards and, in the distance, the further mountains are unusually still tipped with snow. There's been a lot of unseasonal rain recently and, although it's hot and dry today, we run parallel to a country road which is still flooded to a few inches with traffic ploughing through and sending up showers of water. As the terrain becomes more hilly, we cross a couple of wide river beds which drain tremendous amounts of water when the snows melt but, today, there's only a small flow.

San Francisco is a small town straggling along a fairly main road. On a side road, an informal street market is selling shoes. There's municipal offices (closed), a fire station, a host of shops and bars (all open but not particularly busy) and private houses very well maintained by their owners. It's Sunday afternoon and it's hot and nobody seems keen to do too much. Nearer the station, there's more modest housing.

The original station building has been nicely restored and, although automatic ticket barriers have been installed, they're not yet in use. I have no difficulty purchasing my ticket to return to Alameda - the new name for the Santiago terminus.

The electric train is on time and whisks me back to the city, progressively filling up at each stop. A lot of people board at Zoo station where, as you might imagine, there's a zoo which is a popular weekend destination for young families.

By the time we're back in Santiago, I'm becoming tired, so I return to Los Leones on the subway, buy some confectionery and soft drinks in a nearby supermarket which is very busy and walk back to the haven of my hotel to prepare for my evening departure.

The Train at the end of the world

17-Feb-2007: Last morning shipboard, last morning Ushuaia. Arise at 6.00 am, finish packing, take case down to reception and hang around in dining room talking to other early risers while we wait for food to appear. By 7.45 am, I've left the boat and am walking the length of the jetty, dragging my single piece of wheeled luggage behind me and with my 'critical items' in a shoulder bag. I pass a number of other cruise boats, some of which are already boarding passengers. A cheery 'buenos dias' a few times gets me through port security and then I'm outside the gate. I was told there'd be taxis but, of course, there aren't. Within a few minutes, I've spotted a passing taxi, flagged it down and, once the traffic lights change in his favour, he comes to pick me up.

By 8.20 am, I'm at the railway. It's still raining so the huge woodburning stove in the main waiting room is very welcome. The girl from the shop remembers me from my last brief visit and asks me to wait. It's facinating watching as staff arrive for work and greet one another warmly. The trio who entertain waiting passengers arrive, set up their instruments (violin, string base and keyboard) and start making music. Soon, Isabela arrives and plans are made. I buy a ticket, sign a bilingual disclaimer and am kitted out with a new set of rather smart overalls, hat and gloves. Tour buses start to arrive and the place is soon thronged with passengers. I am to travel on the second train, so I watch the first train depart. I'm introduced to my smiling driver who, on this occasion, will drive and fire so as to leave room for me and a lovely girl from operations who will serve as translator.

I have a wonderful round trip on the footplate and then we all repair to the restaurant for coffee and a talk. They insist on giving me various souvenirs and I spend some money in the shop. I have to make an entry in the visitors' book and I see that in September last year they hosted an international conference on steam traction attended by David Morgan. They ask my opinion on a number of aspects of the operation of tourist railways. They insist on providing transport to the airport to check in my bag. I'd originally intended to make a final trip into town but, after the delays checking in, I decide to sit it out at the airport, where I find a number of my former shipmates.

My pictures of 'Ferro Carril Fin Del Mundo'.

The next leg takes me by Lan Chile, via two intermediate stops, to Santiago. Just over half an hour from Ushuaia and we are landing at the rather bleak airport at Punta Arenas, Chile. The 150-odd passengers of the A320 have to disembark, with all hand baggage, to complete Chilean immigration formalities. All this takes some time, but eventually we`re back on the aircraft heading for our second stop at Puerto Montt (where we keep our seats). Then, the final leg to Santiago, where we arrive on time but sit for over half an hour waiting for coaches to take us to the terminal. My luggage appears, I'm met as arranged so eventually I get to my bed at the Santiago Park Plaza (www.parkplaza.cl).

Ushuaia, again

This was the rather breathless post I managed from an Internet Cafe in Ushuaia late evening on Friday, 16-Feb-2007. The other Blogs are now uploaded and most of the photographs are available (but untitled).

I´m back! Just got back from my cruise tonight, staying on the boat tonight. What a time I´ve had! Whilst shipboard, I prepared lots of text to upload, but I can´t do it just at present so this is a ´holding job´ to let readers know I´m safe and well. What tales I´ve got to tell but I´m afraid you´ll have to wait a bit longer for details.

I have hundreds of photographs to upload, but that may have to wait a while. Suffice to say that the trip to date has exceeded my expectations.

Returning via the Drake Passage

Thursday, 15th February 2007:

With some trepidation, the passengers embark on the 600-mile, two-day North-bound crossing of the Drake Passage. This time, I have no discomfort at any stage and settle into a routine of meals, lectures and sleeping soundly. I make fairly frequent visits to the bridge.

Friday, 16th February 2007:

I rise early and spend some time on the bridge. The sea is much livelier this morning, whipped by a North wind of up to 40 knots. Our speed has dropped to around 9 knots, although the ship is still 'Full Ahead'. I enjoy a quick breakfast and return to the bridge. Just before 8.00 am, the infamous Cape Horn appears out of the rain, a few miles ahead. The Captain continues until we're about two miles off, to give passengers a chance to see this icon, then we turn due East to run parallel to the coast of Chile, eventually turning Northwards again to reach the Beagle Channel. As the day progresses, conditions improve and the sun appears.

By the afternoon, we enter the Beagle Channel, with the Panamanian flag fluttering at the stern (although operated by a Chilean company, the vessel is registered in Panama). The day is punctuated by a lecture from Eduardo about the early explorers of the Southern Seas followed by another excellent lunch. Then, with four others, I go on a tour of the engine room. The guide and the other four are predominantly Spanish speakers, giving me the opportunity to try to work things out for myself. Needless to say, I was fascinated. At some stage, I may write some words to go with my many photographs but, for now, suffice to say that devotional pictures attached to various control panels helped to ensure the success of our journey. The engine room was extremely clean but very noisy - the ear defenders offered to the visitors were readily accepted!

We take a pilot for the rest of the navigation. First, the little pilot launch is spotted approaching us from the direction of Ushuaia on our port side. The launch has three playful dolphins in convoy. Then the launch slips around our stern to come alongside on our starboard side. Next, our crew put out a rope ladder (the sort where each step is a flat wooden board with a hole each end to accept the ropes).Finally, the pilot climbs from the flat aft deck of his launch up the sheer side of our massive hull onto our deck. All this, of course, whilst our ship continues towards Ushuaia. The dolphins decide to accompany us for a while and the three lithe bodies repeatedly arc out of the water, in perfect synchronism with one another.

The passengers gather in the dining room for the final de-briefing.There are short speeches and rounds of applause for each of the people who have helped to make this particular cruise so memorable. The mellow mood is assisted by the Captain's Farewell Cocktail and copious supplies of wine with the meal. Somehow, John Villegas, the hotel manager, manages to exceed the success of his previous meals in this Farewell Dinner.

By the time the meal is finished, it's 9.30 pm and getting dark. Although we're sleeping on the ship tonight, now we've docked it's possible to go into the town, so I decide on a constitutional. A 'pass-out' issued by the crew at our gangway will get me out of the port and back in again. We're moored right at the end of the long, straight jetty, so it's a ten-minute walk in light rain to the port entrance. Ahead, Ushuaia straggles up the hill, a patchwork quilt of lights of every colour. The 'pass-out' works well and, emerging into the town, I briefly walk around. There's a crowded restaurant on every street corner but the shops are shut. I find an Internet Café open until 2.00 am and, at last, make contact with the outside world. Then it's back to the ship, slightly damp but well-pleased with my perambulation.

Deception Island, South Shetlands

Wednesday, 14th February 2007, Deception Island:

Overnight, the 'Antarctic Dream' has headed North, crossed the Bransfield Strait and returned to the South Shetland Islands. This morning, we are to visit the volcanic island of Deception, which last erupted as recently as 1970. The island is the 'caldera' - an almost-complete circle five miles across. Sea access to the caldera is through a narrow, hazardous passage called Neptune's Bellows. I'm on the bridge just after 5.00 am, with other passengers, to watch the captain bring the 'Antarctic Dream' from the open water into the placid lagoon within. We then head for our first landing place at Telephone Bay.

All the passengers are by now quite accustomed to donning parkas, gumboots and lifejackets and lining up to turn their token from green to red on the board which indicates when people have left the ship. Each Zodiac normally takes ten passengers so it doesn't take too long to get people ashore, although it's the first time we've done it at 6.30 in the morning! Everything is black gravel, actually pumice and ash from the eruption 35 years ago. It's a bleak but impressive landscape. In a few places, green litchens have established a precarious foothold but no other living things are obvious, until we encounter a solitary penguin undergoing a moult. It looks rather sad but is probably fine - penguins can last for a month without food or water and, well before that, it should have returned to its natural element, the sea. We climb a couple of hundred feet, but it's reasonably easy going over the black ash. We can now see that there are a number of new craters, slowly filling with water, in addition to the huge sea-filled original crater where our ship waits, looking like a toy from our lofty vantage point. There is no sound and it seems a good place to sit and contemplate our incredible world. Within an hour, we make our way back to the ship for a welcome and well-deserved breakfast, whilst our floating restaurant manoevres us to Pendulum Cove.

At 9.00am, those of us with the stamina disembark a second time, improbably for a swim. The beach is the usual black, fine gravel but to the right of our landing spot, clouds of steam are rising from the beach and drifting out to sea in the light wind. Two seamen from our ship have dug a shallow collecting pool and hot melt water is running from the pool to the sea. We remove our lifejackets and outer clothing and, clad only in swimsuits, run down to the sea below the collecting pool. I'm in the first group of four and, sitting down in the shallows, I'm relieved to find that the sea is slightly warm. However, each wave brings in rather cold water from the bay, so we quickly adopt the technique of lying on our front in the black gravel, covered in seawater but carefully positioned so that the hot water from the collecting pool is cooled by the seawater to keep a pleasant temperature around the body. This way, it's delightful. Sweeping the arms in a wide arc can be used to promote the water mixing, or the hands can be plunged into the warm gravel to release the heat. Julio keeps encouraging us to go into deeper water where he assures us the water becomes warmer but I find that any attempt to move out exposes me to cold water so, like most of the bathers, I stay where I am comfortable. One particularly brave American girl with experience of cold water swimming strikes out a few yards, but quickly returns saying the water was the coldest she'd ever been in. With some reluctance, I left my warm bath, ran up the beach, towelled down and dressed. It's a bit worrying to be standing in a wet swimsuit and nothing else when all the spectators were in full bad-weather garb with heavy gloves! All the bathers said they enjoyed the experience but a number said that drying out on the beach was the worst bit. To my surprise, I did not think it was so bad. Perhaps this is a consequence of living in a cold country like England. Anyhow, before 10.00 am we were back on the ship and there was just time to have another warm bath and put on dry clothes ready for our third landing of the day at 10.30 am. I had inadvertently brought back quite a bit of black gravel in my swimsuit and I later found that the other bathers had had an identical experience.

By the time I was ready to go, the Captain had moved the ship to our landing position in Whaler's Bay and, for the last time, the Zodiac drivers take us ashore. On the short journey, we could see the remains of the long-abandoned whaling factory. This was established around 1910 and continued iin use until about 1932, superceded by more "efficient" factory ships. Before inspecting the factory, part of our group walked along the shore with Rodrigo to check out the wildlife. We found a number of small groups of fur seals enjoying the mild weather. We gave them a wide berth, and they just watched us go past. But one particularly aggressive male decided to come across the beach apparently to threaten me. I stopped, slowly retreated a yard, but after a pause, he advanced again. Rodrigo came up and discouraged the fellow with some well-judged stick waving, until the seal went back to harrassing another seal. We carried on to near the end of the beach and climbed the inside of the caldera until, a hundred feet or so up, a gap in the rocks, almost like a missing tooth in a lower jaw, gave us stunning views of the open sea and the wildlife.

Before we left, I was determine to check out the remains of the factory. My distaste for whaling means that I have never studied the processing involved but, confronted by this industrial archaeology, I felt the need to consider the functions needed to help to understand what I was looking at. But I had a mere 30 minutes to look at the site. More on the factory here.

Pictures.
More pictures.
South Atlantic Swimming Club pictures.

The Antarctic Peninsula

Monday, 12th February:

After breakfast, we pass through the Lemaire Channel. This is 7 miles long and less than a mile wide at its narrowest point. Almost all the passengers come on deck to photograph the tall ice-covered cliffs ranging up on each side. We stop near Pleneau Island for a Zodiac trip. I say 'stop' because the water is too deep to anchor, so the ship holds position by gentle manoevring to allow the Zodiacs to load up and get away.

The bay is full of fantastical floating ice sculptures, all tinged with the etherial blue coloration. The largest stand 40 or 50 feet out of the water and everyone seems to feel a sense of awe. Remember, we're on the West side of the Antarctic Peninsula facing the South Atlantic and there's no permanent iceshelf here, although this bay will be frozen over in a few weeks. The ice sculptures we are admiring originally broke away from the iceshelf on the East side of the Peninsula in the Weddell Sea. Currents then carried the ice around to where we now see them. The summer sun starts the melting process and wind and tide carve the strange shapes. As mass is lost, the floating ice may become unstable and turn over.The process then continues, shaping a different part of the ice.

In a couple of places, we find seals basking on suitable flat portions of the sculptures. The flat place on the first sculpture must be 8 feet above the sea, with no easy access from the water. Renee, the excellent Zodiac driver, explains that seals swim upwards at high speed, launch themselves from the water and flop onto the flat place. Amazing! The second group of basking seals only had about a two foot 'jump' to reach their flat place. Here, the Zodiac 'nuzzles' the ice-sculpture, so that we are very close to the seals, who remain unconcerned. Renee admitted that the Antarctic can become an obsession for which there is no cure, only treatment (keep going back). He himself has worked in the Antarctic for 30 years.

In the afternoon, we make a Zodiac landing on Peterman Island. At 65 degrees South, this is the Southern limit of our trip so, as you can see, we are still some way North of the Antarctic Circle and a very long way from the Pole. We have looked at only the 'Northern reaches' of the Antarctic Peninsula. And yet, we have experienced so many wonders!

There are the usual Gentoo colonies around us: this is about as far South as they breed. Adelie penguins are also found here - the only Adelie colony we've seen. Steep, black mountains face us across the bay. Much of the ice has gone from the steeper sections and has re-frozen near the water, to thaw and collapse into the sea by stages, until the winter brings ice and snow to re-start the cycle. We walk across the rocks to find a large private yacht moored offshore. Somebody from the yacht is exploring a small, round bay with an inflatable. Beyond the round bay stands an abandoned Argentinian refuge hut. In addition to a number of birds as yet unidentified by me, there are many Antarctic Shag, a type of cormorant, which appear to live in harmony with the Gentoo. An exciting Zodiac ride across a fairly active sea returns us to the ship. We have three hours to relax as the ship moves North, passing through the Lemaire Channel again, to reach Port Lockroy.

Just after 7.00pm the Zodiac drops my party off at a rocky landing near the inevitable Gentoo colony. It's a lot cooler, it's raining intermittently and we've an hour here. My initial thoughtof 'I don't want to do this' is quickly forgotten in fascination watching the Gentoo behaviour. One juvenile is quite persistent in checking out the food value of my gumboots, the straps on my lifejacket and my finger (it doesn't hurt), before wandering off to try elsewhere.The Zodiac transfers me (just me, on this trip) to Port Lockroy post office. This is the base established by the British after the second world war for radio propagation research and abandoned in 1962.

In 1996, the wooden huts were restored to the 1962 condition as 'Historic Site and Monument No. 61' and it is now looked after by people from the Antarctic Heritage Trust (see website). There's a souvenir shop, which lets you send postcards, and a wonderful evocation of the original base with kitchen, store room, radio room, lounge and research room lovingly restored. The main equipment used for radio research was called 'The Beastie' and there's one on show, put back together under the guidance of one of the original base commanders. A splendid effort and it was with some reluctance that I joined the last Zodiac back to the ship to end an exhilarating, if exhausting, day.

Tuesday, 13th February:

This morning, we go back to Neko Bay and, this time, we are able to make a landing. It's raining, but not too cold and the rain becomes intermittent later. We land on a shingle beach and walk around a small headland into an exquisite, proected bay. As we proceed, the shingle turns to sand, with multi-hued granite rocks. There are a few jet-black rocks.There are Gentoo everywhere, not just near the beach. Colonies can be some distance away atop quite difficult hills accessed over ice or rock. What at first sight appears an ungainly, waddling locomotion is, in fact, well-adapted to the areas where penguins live part of their lives. Once you compare the antics of the human visitors making the same climbs, the Gentoo appear almost elegant. They only come to land for breeding and when very young, otherwise they are 'pelagic' - they live at sea. Penguins are supremely efficient in sea-going mode.

The beach at Neko Bay is strewn with lumps of ice beached by the tide, anything up to 8 foot cube and still frozen hard. On the other side of the bay, we face cliffs with mountains behind receding into the mist-obscured distance. The front of the cliffs are ice, 20 to 50 feet thick,slowly tearing itself apart after the summer sun. Cracks and fissures appear in the ice, always tinged with the strange blue light. The majority of the high land is still ice, but there are large areas where the ice has completely detached, exposing the dark rock below.

There is the occasional cry of a seabird, the sussuration as the tide gently laps at the shore and the distant rumble as ice falls somewhere but otherwise all is quiet and, for a while, all the visitors stand in wonder at the spectacle. The more adventurous climb to quite a height over the ice, but I'm content to go just to the top of the headland for different views and sight of our waiting ship. The ice has numerous tiny, informal streams leading the melt water downhill. Either side of these streams, the ice has softened to slush and this offers the safest footing for gumboots. We return to the ship for lunch whilst the ship moves to Dallman Bay, a known good spot for whale-spotting.

I watch from the wheelhouse with a few others. The wheelhouse has access to an open bridge deck with good views all round which is ideal. It's raining quite hard now and getting cold, so it's handy to be able to duck back into the wheelhouse for a bit of shelter. A pair of humpback whales is spotted, so we alter course to get closer and then sit and wait. The whales perform, swimming up and down a couple of hundred feet off the boat. We all take our photographs, congratulate ourselves and relax."Ballenos!" cries the smiling helmsman and, once again, we set off for the general direction of the sighting and wait.

And then follows an incredible close encounter with a pair of humpbacks as they surface right alongside the ship and, for about half an hour, stay with us as we hold station. They swim alongside, disappear, then re-appear venting spray. The water is clear enough to see their huge bodies gracefully moving just under the surface. Then, they disappear, to surface moments later on the other side of the vessel. They repeat this trick a number of times. On the various decks, passengers can be seen running from side to side of the ship. The whales show us their nobbly heads, occasionally flick their bifurcated tails, or turn on their side to expose a massive dorsal fin. Their diet is more or less exclusively tiny krill. On a number of occasions, they dive and defecate krill residue - a reddish-pink slurry. Passengers and staff are breathless with excitement. Struggling to take photographs of this aquatic ballet, I hear myself gasping "Oh, my God!", in sheer awe. Standing next to me, the Captain, veteran of 120 Antarctic journeys, is crying "I don't believe it!". These amazing mammals, the weight of an articulated lorry, seem so benign and, somehow, so knowing. They are highly social with a highly-developed brain structure (weighing 4 to 8 kilos) associated with high intelligence. Whilst one must not anthropomorphise - they're whales, not people - it's hard not to conclude that they knew we were there and chose to associate with us for mutual amusement. We all feel privileged to have been part of the experience.

Pictures.
More pictures.

South Shetland Islands

Saturday, 10th February:

At 5.00am we still seem to be in open water. By 6.00am the outline of the South Shetlands is visible on the starboard side and we're in much smoother water, so I get up and go to the bridge. The ship is manoevring to its first anchorage and the captain, Peter Skog, is in command. 'Antarctic Dream' has passed through the Nelson Strait, come around Robert Island and anchors in Discovery Bay on Greenwich Island. After breakfast, we get the compulsory Zodiac Safety and Antarctic briefing. The Antarctic is regulated under a 1959 Treaty, as amended, as a zone of peace and science. Tourism is regulated by the International Association Antarctica Tour Operators. More information here.

Around 10.0am the Zodiacs start taking us ashore. There's bright sunshine and you'd be tempted to describe the weather as balmy. We walk around the island, past an abandoned Argentine Research station and see a number of Weddell Seals who seem unperturbed by our presence. Within an hour, the sky is overcast, the wind picks up and the temperature plummets. We're all happy to be picked up by the Zodiacs and returned to the ship.

Whilst lunch is taken, the ship moves the short distance to Aitcho Island. We disembark but conditions are worse than in the morning. It's raining quite hard and fairly miserable. Our landing point is a shingle beach in the middle of a huge colony of Gentoo penguin. There are lots of juveniles, who seem quite curious about the big red penguins arriving (the tour company loan red parkas, though some people prefer to use their own). But penguin poo does smell! The beach is criss-crossed with white, straight lines of poo, each about 15 inches long, produced by the single, explosive evacuation they employ. Away from the beach, the water from the melting snow converts the poo into a rather evil-smelling mud. We're quite glad of the tour company gumboots! Click for my pictures.

Sunday, 11th February:

In the night, we've moved further South to around latitude 64 degrees South. Over breakfast, we can study the large number of pieces of ice which litter the sea and the ice-covered cliffs showing fracture lines as huge lumps of ice prepare to tumble into the sea. The fissures often have an etherial blue coloration.

We disembark by Zodiac on another shingle beach on the island of Cuverville. There's a large Gentoo population here, as well. The centre of the island rises up a few hundred feet in a snow-covered dome. Our guide Rodrigo leads a walk towards the summit. Once past the main colony and the penguin poo, we climb over loose scree to pass a number of subsidiary colonies, some distance from the sea. Our route now takes us uphill over rock and snow - difficult climbing in gumboots. The party becomes progressively smaller as members drop out and eventually I decide to stop, having covered a respectable distance and obtained incredible views. As I sit in the snow, catching my breath, there is an occasional thunder clap, as more ice slides from the cliffs into the sea, but the ice fall is not visible from my vantage point. The weather is fairly mild and, for most of the time, I'm not wearing gloves. I look on in mild disapproval as some of the youngsters descend by sliding on their backsides over the snowfield, then I decide it's perhaps not such a bad idea and copy them. I return to the ship exhilarated but exhausted.

Julio announces that our planned afternoon visit to Neko Bay, which should have been our first landing on the Antarctic Peninsula, has been cancelled, because of an electrical problem in the engine room.The captain takes the ship back to Cuverville, which offers a safe anchorage, while the problem is being looked at. We anchor near a Russian ship. This is a converted scientific ship now leased to Oceanwide, Holland. There are up to 32 ships at a time doing these cruises. Their movements are carefully choreographed so that they do not interfere with one another. Rather ominously, the ship becomes silent as all the machinery is shutdown to allow the repair to go ahead. I can hear an auxiliary running and there's certainly power in my cabin. I have two oil-filled electric heaters in my cabin and the thermostats have been set to maximum since I boarded. Within a couple of hours, the captain is on the public address to confirm that the problem, a burnt-out variable resistor, is fixed and that we are on the way South to Waterboat Point.

After dinner, the Zodiacs take us ashore. There is a Chilean Air Force Antarctic base here (although it's serviced by the Chilean Navy) called Gabriel Gonzales Videla Station. There's another large Gentoo colony here, so our boots get a bit muddy. It's a calm evening and, even at 9.30 pm, quite pleasant, gloves not required. About half a dozen of the Chileans are manning the Museum. This a decent wooden shed with a good selection of photographs of the history of the site captioned helpfully in English. The Museum sells a variety of souvenirs - payment in US dollars.

Pictures.
More pictures.

Drake Passage - towards Antarctica

On Wednesday, 7-Feb-2007, I board the 'Antarctic Dream for my 11-day trip to the Antarctic Peninsula in Ushuaia, Argentina. Bit of a scrum as everyone piles into reception, passports are collected and staff show guests to their cabins. Mine, 323, has a double bed, two windows (not portholes) looking out on the starboard side and a third looking ahead. The bathroom has a combined shower and bath. For more information, see www.antarctic.cl.

The first meeting takes place at 6.00pm in the dining room. Chilean-born Julio Preller, as expedition manager for the last two seasons, first introduces John Villegas, the hotel manager. Julio hopes that we will learn a lot and appreciate nature. Drake not happy with us, he says, they had a 'rocky' time coming in from Antartica via the Drake Passage this morning at 7.00am. Although we're supposed to cast off at 7.00pm, Julio says it will be nearer 9.30pm, as we're waiting for two passengers whose flight has been delayed. Julio says that when we get to the Antarctic Peninsula, there'll be a briefing each evening before dinner. The bad news is that the internet connection is down and won't be fixed. Periodically during the day, four different feature films and a documentary will be shown on the in-cabin television. We'll have five days down there and we must respect the creatures. February is a good time for whales. The ship has an 'open bridge' policy and, in reasonable numbers in daylight, passengers can visit the bridge at any time. It will only be dark for about four hours each night. Other members of the team are Penelope, from Australia, Rodrigo, a translator, and Eduardo. Maria looks after reception. There's a doctor on board, too. The key to moving safely on a moving ship, Julio says, is to always be holding on with one hand "one hand for you and one for the ship". Two of our passengers are making a film for Austrian television. Tomorrow will be an easy day, says Julio. Muster in the dining room in 10 minutes for mandatory boat drill.

Boat drill passes off uneventfully and we return to the dining room for dinner. We're still tied up when 'Discovery', the large ship on the opposite side of the jetty, moves away stern first until there's manoevring room to turn herself around. Almost immediately, the berth is taken by another cruise ship which had appeared a couple of hours earlier and anchored offshore. At 9.30pm, we quietly slip away from the quay and head East along the Beagle Channel, with Argentina on our left and Chile on our right. Once clear of the Beagle Channel, we turn South for our 600 mile crossing of the open sea to reach the South Shetland Islands.

This is the Drake Passage and it appears that Drake is no more pleased with us than the incoming sailing. Whilst nowhere near as bad as it can get, it's the worst experience I've had on a ship. I was bouncing round the cabin like a shuttlecock. Even with one hand firmly connected to the ship, I just hadn't the strength to resist being thrown painfully against the opposite wall. I was soon exhausted. Even in bed, I involuntarily slid up and down with the movements of the ship. Furniture is screwed down. Most chairs are attached to the floor with a spring, allowing limited movement. The night was punctuated by crashes, in my cabin and elsewhere in the ship, as anything loose cannoned around. In between mal de mer, arthritis and an infection I think I picked up in New York, the next two days are a bit of a blank. I survived, then improved and when I finally emerged, I discovered that most of the rest of the passengers had had a miserable crossing, too.

Pictures of the ship and my cabin.

Ushuaia - the full story

Tuesday, 6-Feb-2007:

I took my travel agent's advice on a hotel in Ushuaia, so we have about 5 miles to go out of town to get to the Tolkeyen. In the last 25 years Ushuaia has achieved incredible growth, from a population of a few thousand up to around 85 thousand. The Argentinian Government has introduced various inducements to bring people here. Tourism is a major part of the local economy. To the West, there's a National Park, which extends to the border with Chile.

As we leave the town, we pass through the posh area of Ushuaia with quite large wooden-clad houses which look quite attractive. The weather is very changeable here, so heating is important. Argentina has its own oil and gas supplies and the Government has put in a pipeline, 200 km long I think, to bring gas to Ushuaia. We pass through rather inhospitable-looking scrub land and come to a small township, where a drive leads us to the Tolkeyen Hotel.

The hotel is single storey, log-clad lodge-style, very spacious and nice and warm. My room is, I suspect, the best in the place, with a bay window commanding splendid views of the Beagle Channel. I decide to have dinner in the restaurant, nice high gable roof, stone floor. Although there are a fair few people already there (a German party), service is prompt and attentive. I have cream of asparagus soup, with crusty bread just right, codfish (small fillets in a light sauce with a boiled potato - excellent) and an ice cream to finish. Replete, I return to my room, bathe in the whirlpool bath, fall into the large bed and sleep soundly.

Wednesday, 7-Feb-2007:

There's an excellent buffet breakfast in the dining room looking across the Beagle Channel to the snow-covered mountains on the other side, which are part of Chile. I walk down to the foreshore to take in the view. On the landward side there are also snow-covered mountains. There's a light drizzle and a rainbow is forming. All sorts of birds are flying aound the water line, foraging for food. It truly is a magical spot. This unlikely, remote spot is the first place I've managed to send e-mail via the hotel's Wi-Fi. Sadly, I can't post a blog. Dunno why.

The hotel has a free shuttle bus into Ushuaia a few times a day. I catch the 9.00am (I'm the only passenger) and he drops me on the waterfront. The main area 'Centro' extends about 15 blocks along the waterfront and four blocks inland on land which rises up steeply. The land agents in Ushuaia are Rumbo Sur (www.rumbosur.com.ar/. I go to the Rumbo Sur booking office to find out more about embarkation on my Antarctic Cruise, but the right people don't seem to be there. I also enquire about the narrow gauge 'Tren Turistico' steam train which starts a few miles out of town and takes people to the national park. I can't really get answers, so I find out where the taxi rank is and get a taxi up to the railway.

Well, the morning trains have gone but I make contact with their charming lady commercial manager, Natalia Assandri, and she introduces me to (I think) the stationmaster and their workshop manager, Hugo del Valle, who provides a tour of the workshop facilities, during which I meet one of the drivers. The whole operation is very impressive. Before I get a taxi back to Ushuaia, they offer me a footplate ride if I can get to them on the day I return after the cruise. I'll certainly try! Nice people. See their website www.trendelfindelmundo.com.ar.

Back in Ushuaia, I've more time to look around. The harbour is one straight jetty with moorings on both sides plus provision for the large day-trip boats. Two large cruise ships on one side of the jetty mask the view of my ship 'Antarctic Dream' which I spotted berthed on my way in by taxi.There are lots of tourist shops, lots of tourists - Americans, Europeans, not many Japanese. Another taxi then took me back to the hotel, ready to be picked with my luggage and taken to the Albatros Hotel near the harbour for check-in to the cruise. There was then an enforced wait of nearly 2 hours before joining the coach for the short journey to the ship. Cynically, I assumed that this was to encourage you to spend money in the hotel restaurant and bar. I didn't - I passed the time in the town.

In Buenos Aires, people seemed predominantly fair skinned and very European looking, many with blonde hair. But in Ushuaia, the dark-skinned look of South America is commoner. There is an Aboriginal Museum devoted to the Yamana people but, with limited time, I opt instead for the Maritime Museum. This is situated next to the present Navy base in the former prison, the Presidio. Although parts of this large building are distictly run down, an awful lot of trouble has been taken in the staging of the artefacts and I found it charming. Six wings of cell blocks radiate from the centre, some of which are used for displays. There are some marvellous ship models, many by an award-winning model-maker whose workshop has also been preserved here.The last surviving locomotive and coach from the original prison railway have also been preserved, sadly outside but at least available for inspection. One wing of cells is unrestored, showing all the original architectural features. The most modernised wing is now an art gallery. After a fascinating, if rather hurried tour, I make my way back to the Albatros Hotel where a coach is waiting.

Finally, once all the stragglers have arrived, we drive in the rain to the harbour. We get off the coach for hand baggage X-ray, get back on the coach to drive along the jetty and, finally, approach our home for the next 11 days, 'Atlantic Dream'.

Click for my pictures of Ushuaia

Click for pictures of the original Prison Railway vehicles and the modern 'Tren Tourstico'

Ushuaia

Tuesday, 6-Feb-2007:

I'm sitting in the dining room of the Tolkeyen Hotel, a few miles outside Ushuaia. It's getting dusk and I'm looking across the Beagle Channel to the snow-covered mountains on the other side. Magical! Tomorrow I embark on a 10-day cruise to the Antarctic Peninsula. I may be quiet for some time.

All my Ushuaia pictures are now available here.

Heading South

6-Feb-2007:

After an all-to-brief stay, I'm leaving Buenos Aires. Things followed a familiar pattern: On arrival, the place seemed almost alien, unknown. The hotel proved a good choice (it was my choice). It has 'a bit of age' which always helps with me. But then I have to summon up courage to actually leave the hotel. People don't believe me but, travelling on my own, I don't find it easy. Once I get started, the challenge of trying to come to grips with a new culture takes over. I always think "I may never pass this way again" and, as I get older, the prediction becomes ever-more-likely to come true. So I feel it my duty to extract everything I can from the experience.

I was picked up from the hotel, on time, by the lady who met me on my arrival, Mary Luz. She claimed to be amazed at what I'd seen in one day, saying people take a week to see less. She added that a lot of local people would be afraid to catch an ordinary train! Well, I have an advantage with trains and subway systems in that I'm interested and have a fair idea how they work before I start.

15:30 sees me boarding aircraft LV-VBZ at Jorge Newbery domestic airport (ticketing code AEP). It's far more modern and spacious than the international airport Ministro Pistarini (EZE) I arrived at yesterday (It seems much longer ago to me - I've commented on the Time Dilation Effect experienced on my holidays before). The aircraft is an MD Series 80 built, the bi-lingual Aerolineas Argentinas flight magazine informs me, by Boeing, with 8 business class seats (I'm in one of only two seats occupied on this flight) and 140 tourist. A glass of champagne, the Buenos Aires Herald in English. The Government have just replaced the Chief Statistician and issued a delayed January monthly inflation figure of 1.1%. Commentators were expecting at least 1.5% and are crying 'fix'. So, we Brits can still show the Argies a thing or two. I imagine our inflation is nearly as bad but Gordon only admits to two or three percent in a year!

We take off at about 4.00 p.m. for our 3 hours 10 minutes flight to Ushuaia, right on the Southern tip of South America. Immediately after take-off, the cockpit door is opened and remains open for some time. It's a long time since I've seen that sort of informality! During our climb, I get a good view of the extensive modern housing around Buenos Aires. The area is divided by the roads into rectangular blocks, USA-style. Large areas are low-rise, then you get a number of blocks which are high rise. It looks quite pretty from the air, but I wouldn't like to live there.

Once we're above the cloud, the terrain is only intermittently visible but soon we're over the sea, heading South.They serve a modest, but pleasant, light meal then I sit it out until we descend through the cloud for a textbook landing at Ushuaia. As you'd imagine, it's a fairly modest affair but it does sport two airbridges, so we get into the terminal without sampling the outside temperature, but there's late afternoon sun. After a short delay, the luggage arrives, there's a cursory but friendly customs check and I meet up with the bearded young man from the travel company. It's cold outside after Buenos Aires, but nowhere near as cold as New York.

Buenos Aires

I choose the Marriott Plaza as a landmark hotel, designed in 1907 (by a German). I like exploring these hotels with a bit of history. Well, the staff are friendly and quite attentive so, so far, I'm very happy. See the hotel's web site. I will only be in Buenos Aires about 1 day. I'd originally scheduled more but there were problems with the onwards flight so we've had to shorten the stay. It's hot! After New York, it's wonderful to be warm again! The capital has a population of about 4 million but, with the surrounding area included, it's about 14 million - around 40% of the population of the country! Ethnic background is Spanish (which I knew) and Italian (which I didn´t) plus the indigenous Indians. But now there's Koreans and Chinese coming in. Faith is mainly Catholic, but there is freedom for all sorts of persuasions.

Somehow, I'd failed to anticipate the nondescript concrete buildings everywhere: not very appealing. And the wide, busy toll road in from the airport could be anywhere in the world. But as you approach the old parts of the city, the European influence is obvious. They have a number of very wide avenues (they claim to have the widest streets in the world, but I think this claim is disputed). I did count six and seven lanes each way in places. There are some fairly grand buildings, like the Colon Theatre where they stage operas and, of course, my hotel. Just like Europe, these buildings now share space with indifferent modern stuff.

But parts of Buenos Aires are being developed differently, as I found when I walked from my hotel to Puerto Madero, the old docks. There is an enclosed dock system with a number of sepate basins, a bit like, say, the Royal Docks in London. Most of these docks are redundant and lots of new commercial and residential buildings are appearing. The old brick built warehouses have, in general, been retained and developed as apartments with posh cafes and bars on the ground floor. Some of the dockside cranes have been kept, to add character, and the whole area seems very popular with tourists and locals alike. There are also fairly spectacular tall apartment blocks either being built or already sold. I don't approve of it all, but at least the thinking is more joined-up. There is clearly a burgeoning rich middle class in Argentina who are buying into this dream, but you don't have to walk far to see that not everybody is benefitting equally from this prosperity.

The docks are big! I wasn't sure how long my energy would last in this heat, so I turned back towards the city and headed towards the Plaza de Mayo. This proved to be the usual grassed park with large statuary that they seem to do well in this part of the world. I spotted the entrance to Line A of the 'Subte' (presumably a contraction of 'subterrainean' and purchased a ticket for 70 cents, 7/10 of the Argentinian Peso. I found no ticket machines - just a tiny window at each station, often with a queue of people waiting to pay their 70 cents. This gets you a thin card ticket with a magnetic ink stripe which gets you through a fairly modern ticket-reading barrier. Logically, the 'A' line was the first to be built, opening in 1913. This line runs quite elderly trains - all wood inside and sliding doors you open yourself.

I took the line a few stops to Plaza Miserere and had a look around. A very vibrant area but worlds away from the smart new dock area. Buildings quite run-down but supporting lots of small businesses. One firm apparently reclaiming used cardboard boxes spilled out onto the pavement as young boys flattened boxes arriving by lorry. There's a rather grand station building, now abandoned, which was Estacion Once. I catch a 'Subte' train back to station Piedras, standing right at the front of the train by the open window which serves as air conditioning. The driver works from a tiny wooden compartment, like a wardrobe, front left (the lines are left running). It's raining heavily when I reach the street and people are sheltering under shop awnings or scurrying to the next bit of cover. I hurry one block in the rain and regain the shelter of the 'Subte' station on the more modern 'C' line. A few stops brings us to the terminus, Retiro and Buenos Aires' main station.

As I expect, this is an impressive place retaining its elegantly-proportioned original buildings and two arched train sheds. Ceramic tiled walls have very elaborate detailing from an earlier age. Set against this elegance is the hubbub of dozens of shops, stalls and snack bars and the clamour of the people thronging to and from the platforms.

Outside again, there are lines of buses and, having run the gauntlet of crossing at least twelve traffic lanes, not too busy, fortunately, I reach a clock tower carrying the British royal coat of arms. This is the Torre de los Engleses, donated by Britain to commemorate 100 years of Argentinian independence gained in the May revolution. Because the English are not flavour of the month, the clock has been renamed 'Monumental Tower' officially, but everyone still calls it 'Englishmen Tower'. A short walk along the length of the Plaza Saint Martin brings me back to the hotel.

I have to try and pace myself on these rather demanding trips so, although it's still light, I decide to stay in for the rest of the day. I spend an hour doing e-mail and blog posts in the business centre, explore the hotel and arrange for laundry to be done. Then I eat in one of the hotel's restaurants, 'La Brasserie' (coke, ministrone and an excellent Pizza Margarita twice as big as I can manage). After that, I just collapse on the bed and go into a deep sleep for a few hours, waking in the 'wee small hours' no longer sleepy. On Tuesday, I have just a few hours to see some of Buenos Aires other sights before I'm booked to fly South.

Today, Tuesday 6th February, I got up early and had a good buffet breakfast. There's a chef on hand to do things like eggs to order. Then a pleasant walk across the gardens of the Plaza San Martin where there are some very old trees to Retiro station. Decide to travel to the first stop, 3 de Febrero. Fascinating journey. I won't bore you with the details just now. Then start walking back through the huge park of Palermo. There's lots of joggers and hundreds of power walkers (or not-very-power walkers). It's getting quite warm. Leaving the Park, I pass through an area of posh apartments, embassies and museums before coming to Recoleta, old buildings brought into use as a tourist destination. There's an old church and a famous cemetery with countless mausoleums, some very old and grand.

Then I walk about ten blocks to the nearest Subte Station, Calleo on Line D. With one change I make my way to the end of Line C at Constitucion. There's a big surface railway station here called Estation Constitucion. Very impressive architecture. Seems to be two suburban railways now, one diesel, one electric. Seeing me photographing the platforms from the ticket barrier, a young man lets me through to get a better view. But seeing what a thorough job I'm making of taking photographs, he follows me and politely asks me to stop. "Security" he mutters in Spanish. But I thank him for his inital generosity.

Back to Plaza de Mayo in the centre to check out the old buildings of Casa Rosada, but there's a lot of building work going on making it difficult to see much. A visit to the nearby cathedral and then I walk along the pedestrianised Florida, lined with shops and street sellers, ten blocks to my hotel. Quick shower, finish packing and, hopefully, post this.

Click for Buenos Aires photographs
Clck for Buenos Aires railway and 'Subte' photographs