Life goes on at the end of the world

By MICHAEL MASTROIANNI

The employees at Tante Sara have an awesome responsibility, working at the last bakery on… The employees at Tante Sara have an awesome responsibility, working at the last bakery on earth. Although the business sounds bleak, its location on sunny Avenue San Martin is far from it. The workers revel in their lot, with the motto “Disfruta, es el fin del mundo:” “Enjoy, it’s the end of the world.”

Tante Sara, both the bakery and the cafe, are highlights of Ushuaia, an Argentinian city in the Tierra del Fuego archipelago. Ushuaia is the southernmost city in the world and, consequently, its schools, car dealerships and other businesses boast of being “at the end of the earth.”

Although Ushuaia is made special by its geographical location, a quick look at the city’s surroundings introduces a new element to its attraction. Ushuaia is built on hills — the entire grid of streets slopes down from the end of the Andes mountain range to the sea. The nearby peaks are covered with snow nearly year-round, and the old-world feel of the city combined with the backdrop of the Andes makes every view breathtaking.

People from around the world come to Ushuaia for other reasons as well. It is the gateway to the Antarctic Peninsula, a destination that is gaining popularity among tourists. Several ships that travel south to the seventh continent make berth in Ushuaia’s port during the tourist season, between October and March.

The city’s gift shops reflect dedication to Antarctica, with everything from cold-weather gear to stuffed penguin toys. Ushuaia is also the capital of the Argentinian province named “Tierra del Fuego, Antarctica, and South Atlantic Islands.” Although Argentina has no sovereignty over Antarctica, this title gives Ushuaia’s port an air of authority.

Despite the city’s popularity and the many people moving through it, it is home to only 50,000 permanent residents. The residential districts are dotted with wooden homes of different shapes and varying degrees of quality. The mountains around Ushuaia shelter it from wind and bad weather, making the city reasonably safe from cold and winter storms.

The outer streets are usually silent, with the occasional taxi or van roaring along through the dust between hotels and the business district. Indicative of the area’s history, the faces in the quiet parts of the town display a mix of features, from Latino to Native American.

The natives of Tierra del Fuego first encountered European explorers nearly 500 years ago, when they also met European diseases and weapons for the first time. The last full-blooded natives died nearly a century ago, but many of Ushuaia’s residents are racial mixes of European and native ancestors.

The higher elevations of Ushuaia have the same hybrid look to them. Old wooden buildings built next to modern businesses line the upper streets. The glow of a tango club’s neon sign casts an eerie green glow on a nearby courtyard and small home, which look like they belong on a European provincial street.

The native groups that did survive include the birds and fish of the Beagle Channel and the nearby Atlantic Ocean. The albatross, with a wingspan of 15 feet, has been said to bring the wind to the sails of ships. The facts are less romantic: an albatross cannot fly without a stiff wind. But seagoing people are still in wonder of the albatross’ grace.

Much higher than even the peak of Ushuaia’s staircases and streets are the raw mountains. Paths and buses slowly climb into the peaks as the air grows colder and more diffuse. Eventually, one can barely catch his breath but is rewarded with an unfettered view of the city and the waterways below. The ships in the channel appear as toys, and the people on the streets as dots, as if seen from an airplane.

For a traveler returning to Ushuaia, either from the mountains or the sea, the reward is Fuegian lamb and beef — some of the best in the world — along with music playing late into the night. Soft tango beats leak out of clubs and restaurants into the cooling streets at twilight, washing up and down Avenue San Martin.

The bakers at Tante Sara close up late and arrive early the next morning to make bread and pastries for the day’s breakfast. A ship may arrive, or a tour group from the mountains may come back to Ushuaia. Either way, people still have to eat at the end of the world.