Our world trip has been planned around twelve places/sites/activities, six of which were chosen by each of us. One of mine was to visit the end of the world, the southernmost town in the world, the closest point to the Antarctic. (Or so I thought.... Even though we knew trips to the Antarctic were going to be too expensive, our curiosity drove us to asking in the travel agency. And apparently there is a hotel on the Antarctic, which, I assume, means that there must also be a town there. So where is in fact the end of the world?!?)

Our flight to Ushuaia, from Buenos Aires, brought us in through the southern Andes and over the Beagle Channel. The mountains were stunning and you could almost feel the plane tilt to one side as all the passengers leant towards the windows to get a better view. As we reduced in altitude the thought momentarily passed through my mind that we must be in a water plane. I could see land out both sides of the plane, but seemingly none beneath us! What only seemed like a few metres before we touched down did pavement appear into view. It was quite exhilerating!

The airport was surprisingly modern, all wood and glass. Almost like an enormous Swiss chalet! The town was large but had a bleak feel to it. The buildings were run-down, the roads and pavements seemed unfinished and there were a few incomplete or deserted buildings. Wild dogs roamed the streets occasionally running after the passing cars.

We were told that there was a glacier at the top of one of the mountains behind the town, reachable within a couple of hour's hike.

So we thought this would make a perfect introductory hike for us. The easy hike along an obvious path.....

.....soon turned into a slippery search for the trail along rocks, ice and snow as the side of the mountain became steeper and steeper. Richard bounded forward like a mountain goat.....

.....while I grappled with staying upright, trying to ignore my visions of slipping and rolling down the snowy mountainside creating a Kate snowball (embarassingly caught on video by the mountain goat).

My efforts felt worthwhile every time I turned around and viewed the town in front of the Beagle Channel, framed by mountains with the bleak foreground accentuating the dramatic scene.

As the sun dropped behind the mountain and the sight of any type of path had vanished we decided to leave glacier viewing to another day. So with Richard's words of encouragement and endless patience we made it back to the easier trail without creating any human snowballs, and advised two visitors from Buenos Aires that attempting the path any further in city trainers may well be a challenge. Their descent down behind us was mainly made on feet, hands and ass!

As I had viewed the end of the world from a height I was now keen to view it from the coast, and we had been told that the Tierra del Fuego National Park was the place to do this.

As soon as the torrential rain had abated one morning we hurriedly packed our hiking bags and shot out the hostel door to catch a bus to the park. It dropped us off at the world's most southerly post office (located on a jetty into the channel) where I posted Jack's postcard.

The bus driver told us that the bus makes its return trips at 3pm and 5pm from the other side of the park. As it was only 12.30pm and we were advised that the walk only takes 3 hours we set off at a steady pace soaking up the views and marvelling at our location. The end of the world!

The coastal path meandered through the beautiful autumnal forest.....

.....occasionally opening out onto bays with pebbly beaches, and rocks to sit on to admire the wild views onto the Chilean snow-capped mountained islands on the other side of the channel (and to munch through a sandwich).

Apart from a pair of ducks during lunch and a few white bottomed rabbits, wildlife was pretty scarce. I guess they had all packed their winter rucksacks and either headed north for some warmer weather or they had tucked themselves in, lit a fire and sat down with a good book to make it through the Ushuaian winter.

Of course, it could also have something to do with the fact that the last two and half hours of the walk actually consisted of us darting through the trees, racing up tree-rooted paths and tearing along pebbled beaches (with the occasional skidding to a halt when another spectacular view came into sight). At around 2.30pm we passed a family who informed us that from that point it would take between three and four hours to reach the other side of the park. Our bus was at 5pm! We were pleased we made it as it certainly wasn't going to wait around for any stragglers!

During our entire coastal walk we passed only the one family and a couple of other hikers. It really did feel desolate and wild. It was an incredible feeling visioning ourselves on a map. Our location....the last stop before Antarctica!