If, like us, you’ve got a bit of a thing for penguins you’ll probably enjoy this blog post.
If you’re not that bothered about penguins, well, you are clearly dead inside. Not enjoying this blog post is, therefore, the least of your worries.
Come on, can you really resist this face?
From the Andes we headed across to Argentina’s east coast in pursuit of some of the best wildlife-watching in the country. Even though we were out of season for whales – which are one of the biggest draws to the area – we were more than happy to settle for the gazillion penguins that live on some beautifully wild stretches of coastline. Not to mention the sea lions, guanacos, armadillos, nandus (ostriches) and massive cormorant colonies.
Penguins have got a lot going for them. They waddle around like little old ladies out on a shopping trip. They do silly things like falling over, running around erratically or hopping about in an comedic manner. They tend not to run away when humans are around. And I’m not saying that only the ‘cute’ animals should be admired, but they do also happen to be damn cute.
They just make it too easy for us to amuse ourselves by giving them human attributes – the posh word for it is anthropomorphism. It’s kind of childish, yet irresistable.
We were pleasantly surprised by the lovely Monte Leon national park, south of the superbly-named town of Comandante Luis Piedra Buena – it’s one of those friendly little national parks that never seems to get over-run with people.
It was the first time we’d had a really close encounter with a penguin. We were watching the huge colony from a bluff above the beach, when suddenly one appeared right at our feet. Moments later its (rather sickly looking) chick popped its head out from under the boardwalk we were standing on.
As we later stood watching a sea lion and cormorant colony, the low tide created an artistic marble effect. We later found out that the phenomenon only happens a couple of times a year.
Our old friends the Magellanic penguins will always be dear to us, but at Puerto Deseado we were heading to see, for the first time, a type of penguin that had been on our wish list for years – the delightful Rockhoppers.
With their punky yellow and black hair-dos and red eyes, they are a bit of a cut above the rest.
We were amazed at how close they let us get. We could have stayed there all day observing them interact. And they are hilarious to watch because (the clue’s in the name) they move around by hopping across the rocks. They’re sometimes even partial to taking a big feet-first hop into a rock pool for a swim.
Most species of penguin chicks in these parts are born in the spring, and live in the colony’s nesting sites until the end of summer (April). Until they are juveniles, they have non-waterproof fluffy feathers and can’t go swimming to find their own food.
As autumn approaches, all the penguins (including the adults) start to moult, and the old coat is replaced with a new smooth, hydrodynamic swimming suit. After that they all dive into the ocean and head to warmer waters for the winter.
The in-between phase makes them look like a bunch of awkward, scruffy, surly teenagers. We all remember those excruciating days when you just couldn’t get your hair to do a thing right.
Our time spent with the Rockhoppers was part of a boat trip out to a ferociously windswept place called – can you guess? – Penguin Island. En route we also saw a spectacularly noisy, not to mention pungent-smelling, sea lion colony. One the way back a dolphin circled the boat. It was a spectacular day.
Further north, we diverted off the main highway again, to the little town of Camarones. From there we explored the superb coastline around Cabo Dos Bahias, home to yet another quiet and unspoiled Magellanic penguin colony. There was no one there other than the two hitch-hikers we’d picked up on the way.
Afterwards we had a fabulous couple of nights wild-camping on the coast near the colony, with not another soul in sight.
It was all well and good, hanging around with penguins and camping on the beach, but we had a deadline to consider. We were heading north to the towns of Welsh Patagonia to gather material and interviews for a series of articles for the BBC, and time was ticking away.
Glad to have some work, but sad to see an end to our wildlife extravanganza, we dragged ourselves away and headed for our ‘office’ in the town of Gaiman – the mosquito-infested backyard of the local fire station.
From there we turned our minds from penguin colonies to the intriguing world of the Welsh colonies of Argentina.
Things we now know to be true: Even penguins have bad hair days.
NOT HAD ENOUGH? PLENTY MORE PHOTOS BELOW.
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