Through my eyes

living my life without regrets

Wednesday, August 08, 2018

31. Puerto Madryn, Argentina


31. Puerto Madryn, Argentina                                           73F (23C) 

We had booked an excursion through the ship knowing that on our own we would not find much to see in the town itself. The ship offered a visit to a nearby town (90 minutes away) that was settled in 1865 by 150 Welsh people who wanted to escape the hardship of working in the coal mines in Wales. The life expectancy in Wales was about 25 years of age and death occurred from either TB or Silicosis. The coal mines did that to people. Here they had a chance to beat the odds.

The Argentinean Government had something similar to the Homestead Act. You work on your given land for some years and it became yours. This area, this land all around Puerto Madryn is semi-desert. The problem here is finding water. While there is this great, almost natural sea port, there is no or little water nearby. 

An Empty, Arid Land

When the Welsh landed in 1865 they tried to make a go of it right next to the port, but farming was not possible. Without water nothing grew. The Atlantic at that time in 1865 had many Right Wales, and their breeding grounds were almost in front of today’s Puerto Madryn. You guessed it; the main reason to stay in Madryn was to ‘harvest’ whale oil. But the whales were decimated and the few that remained, left. So there was no other option but to farm. Or…. herd sheep… but you needed 2 acres of land in this region for just one sheep. Not a good ratio and the sheep needed water too. 

By the way, he whales did return to the ocean off Puerto Madryn, when the hunting stopped. Today whale-watching is a tourist business. 

The Welsh were (are) a proud people, they did not want to be part of the Spanish or English Empires; they wanted to form an independent New Wales. Here they were given a chance and they tried hard to make this area a better Wales. Returning to Wales after the hunting for whales died down was no option.

Yes, there is a small creek, but not nearly enough water for farming. The water of this small creek was brackish and not really potable.

Larger River In Gaiman
What to do? 

After some time, the Welsh became friendly with the native population (Tehuelche) who told them that nearby was a rather larger river, so a group of Welsh men and women, walking on foot, moved to the town of Gaiman, which we are going to see. Gaiman, I am told, translated from Tehuelche means Rocky Point or Holy Stone.

Some Nice Homes Here
Water is a problem for most of Patagonia. There is not enough rain coming from the west. The high mountains, the Andes, stop the rain that comes from the Pacific. The whole area is a lot like Oregon, where West Oregon gets lots of rain, but Eastern Oregon is semi-desert. 

Anyhow, we took a bus to Gaiman.

Told To Help Ourselves to the Raspberries. Sooo Good

Our first stop was a typical farm of the region by the name of ‘Quinta Narlu”. There was a mix of many things that grew on any farm. This was not an animal farm, but rather a fruit farm. Think of a fruit, they had it. We ate raspberries off the vines. I picked an apple off a tree, and some cherries, too. The land was packed with edible fruits. For their own use, people grew vegetables, but they made a living selling fruit. Their market was in Puerto Madryn or any town beyond where they could get their produce in a reasonable time. 
Apple Trees

It was a nice experience, something ‘unusual’ for an excursion. 

There used to be a railroad running all the way to Buenos Aires but part of it was privately, Welsh owned and the Welsh used a narrow gauge line for the area. When the Argentinean Federal Rail Road took it over (a foible of the Peron era) they could not afford to widen the tracks, so instead, after some time, they closed this part down and since about 1955 there has been no more train service. The fruit farms have a hard time shipping fresh fruit.
Watermelon

The end of the Rail Road makes Puerto Madryn and the surrounding towns dependent on a small airport, or ships or trucks for shipping. But air is too expensive for shipping the other method are too slow. No major industry wants to start anything in such a forlorn region. Patagonia, is desolate, very few people live here, there are just so many towns. The area has really only one road, Routa 3, that famous route that cuts through Patagonia.

The town of Trelew, nearby, has a largish textile industry, processing the wool grown by local sheep. But they cannot compete with the latest imports from China; the whole wool business is extremely fragile.
First House Built In Gaiman - 1874

The town we visited, Gaiman, is a town time forgot. Because of cruise ships coming through, there is some tourism, but not really enough. 

The larger area has some interesting historic sites:  tombs nearly 9000 years old dot some hills nearby. ghost lakes where the water evaporates quickly after rain, lots of fossils from dinosaurs, etc.

Countries like Russia and Chile use this area to look for gold and silver. Australia is digging for aluminum; a precious stone named tourmaline is found here and adds to the mix. 
 
There are things to be found, but then comes the weather. High winds, cold and piercing, are extremely common. A 200 KM per hour wind is no rarity here. Top that with the ashes that blow in from erupting Chilean volcanoes in the Andes.  Once in a while, every 5 or 6 years, they have heavy, flood-like rains that swamp the land like a tsunami and you can see this area is hard to live in.
Home-Made Buttered Bread and Scones 

Next was a ‘lunch’ - they called it tea - a la Wales.

The ‘Ty Gwyn’ is the oldest tea house in Argentina and is still owned by descendants of the original settlers. Many people here still speak Welsh. I heard them speak; unfortunately, I could not understand a word. It’s not English, sounds more like Gaelic to me. 

Soooooo Good

Welsh tea was served on nicely decorated tables and real china. I did feel like being in Wales.

But the food was more Welsh than in Wales.  

 Buttered homemade breads.

Scones, jams, and sweet homemade cakes they called ‘torta’. 

Not Much Left

Little cheese sandwiches, dark fruit cakes, etc.

Food I don’t normally eat, not because I do not like it, but it is not served anywhere in my neighborhood.



Remember This?
After the restaurant, our group went to an old house, which still showed how the original settlers used to live when they arrived. You can imagine it was
rather sparsely furnished. Those folks, like pioneers in the U.S. started off with nothing, or almost nothing. It was not an easy life starting from scratch. I got a good impression of pioneer life, life starting in Argentina. It was very similar between both countries, the US and Argentina.


The Story Teller



What I did not like much was the reading of ‘poems’ the group had to endure at the old church. I went outside for some fresh air, as the older woman droned on in a very monotonous tone all in Welsh. It was hot inside the old church building where the reading was held. OK, OK She was the granddaughter of a woman who was killed by Butch Cassidy, but so what? Yes, THE Butch Cassidy, the US bank robber, who hid here when the FBI was chasing him around the globe. Ah, see… the area has some amazing hidden stories.

But Welsh is not just spoken for the tourists. Meetings, weddings, funerals, all are conducted in Welsh.
 
After the poems there was also a concert, local people sang Welsh songs, in Welsh for our group.



How was the singing? Again, I cannot say, I was getting fresh air, while Carol told me it was really good. (

Well, I missed that part.

I actually missed some other stuff, but I will write about that later.

Evening performance:   Doug Funk, a ‘comedian’ from Toronto……. Carol liked him!   As for me?   Meh!


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