Our quest to find the whales hadn’t started well. We were stranded. Four huge backpacks and four bewildered backpackers, we formed a huddled mess by the road side, 100km from our destination. The only bus that day to the coast was long gone. Desperate attempts to lure passing trucks (using our female companions as bait) proved fruitless. We decided to wait it out under the thick midday sun.
We were on the eastern tip of Argentina - near the coastal town of Puerto Piramides - and had come in search of some prime-time whale watching; this oceanic national park in Argentina contains one of the largest populations of the mammal in the world.
Our spirits lifted when a friendly young couple from Buenos Aires screeched to our rescue and we were promptly squeezed into their small saloon like obedient sardines. Soon we reached our cabana, a wooden chalet with a kitchenette, nestled sweetly on the beach. The couple, as it turned out, were big fans of English tea, so to thank them I handed over some rations of my prized Earl Grey that I had been carrying around. They left beaming wide smiles as we fought over bedrooms.
Puerto Piramides is a charming little coastal village, but most visitors miss a trick by staying away in the bland Puerto Madryn, travelling further for the whale tours, which left 50 metres from our hut. The upshot was we had this quaint place mostly to ourselves.
Save for the sailor-blue seafood cafes dotted around the mariner, the only signs of life emanated from soft pastel coloured cottages stretched out for half a mile in each direction, abruptly stopped by imposing sand dunes. A lady manned a wiry old rocking chair. We picked herbs for our evening meal straight from the front porch. The whole placed breathed of relaxation.
Soon we had plucked a bottle of local red from the store and raced up the craggy cliffs to enjoy the sunset on the rocks, as the oily black tails of the whales flickered in the distance.
We were ready for them bright and early the next morning. Along with some other tourists from Madryn, out boat was pulled effortlessly into the sea. Soon enough their mystical tails were upon us; we circled one that was particularly exposed, a huge towering triangle of flesh that stood frozen above the water. We didn’t have to wait long for the main event either. Suddenly a huge infant, itself longer than our boat, and an even bigger mother, engulfed our waters, playing one metre from the side. It was magical, slightly terrifying and astonishingly beautiful, in three perfect minutes of glorious water adventure.
We took our drained sea legs back to dry land and compared snaps. Of course it didn’t do it justice. In a country that abounds with romantic outdoor adventure – you can fill your boots with glacial treks, gaucho horse-rides and pulsating river rapids – the whales of Piramides were a sumptuous highlight.
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