Ding ding!

Also, in Ushuaia, I went on a sight-seeing tour, on a Routemaster bus. It was one of the original models, with individual light-bulbs screwed into wall sockets and a cubby hole under the stairs. Me and a lot of bewildered Argentinians swung round town and they all laughed at our 'conductor' Monica (she gave us our tickets as little paper fares just like being on the buses) and her amusing stories which I didn't, of course, understand. I did get the fact that there'd been a group of Croatians settlers who came looking for gold? or was it whales? and that the suburb of identical box houses with orange walls and brown roofs - nice colour combo - was built for a large group of Italian immigrants. Lots of strange groups of people came to this god-forsaken place including missionaries of course, all trying to persuade the hairy Yamana to give up their stripy body paint and sea lion hunting - and even now most of the people I met in town were from somewhere else in Argentina, escaping the humid streets of Buenos Aires or the dread unemployment of the flat central plains.

Ushuaia's raison d'etre for a long time was a huge prison where the most murderous criminals in Argentina were sent (no point in escaping I guess, where would you go?) and from the top deck of our bus I saw, through its windows, glittering chandeliers, great swagged curtains and polished mahogany tables laid out for smart functions. It's clearly no longer a prison. Actually it's a museum - apparently rather dull though I was disappointed to miss the dramatic recreation show (prisoners? penguins?) which airs 3 times a week. Obviously I forgot to ask the most pressing question - why a London bus? And how did it get here?

We trundled on, passing the very seedy looking Sheik 'nightclub' - which wasn't part of Monica's spiel - with The Church of Jesus El Buen Pastor (the good shepherd) right across the road, glaring over at sin city. Which came first I wonder? And who's sticking up two fingers to who? BTW I've noticed several 'nightclubs' in these parts and they all have an Arab theme. Huh?

We drove over to the other side of the harbour, to the flying club and saw several small planes swoop across the bay and glide down onto the grass. Monica told us that this had been the original airport in Ushuaia but, because the landing strip effectively ran into the sea, it had proved very difficult for all but the best pilots to land a plane there. I bet. But what a way to go. Out of the sky into the freezing waters of the Beagle - you'd be your very own iceburg in a matter of minutes and then maybe penguins would come and skate all over you.