Tierra del Fuego, Argentina

The sign at the harbour says Fin del Mundo — End of the World — and for once the tourism copy is not overstating things. Ushuaia sits at 54 degrees south latitude, at the point where the Andes finally give up their altitude, break apart into channels and islands, and surrender to the Southern Ocean. South of Ushuaia, there is Drake Passage. South of Drake Passage, there is Antarctica. Everything about Tierra del Fuego operates in reference to this fact.

Ushuaia itself — a city of 60,000 people clinging to a steep hillside above the Beagle Channel — is both the destination and the departure point. For most travellers, it is the embarkation port for Antarctic expedition cruises: the place where you board the ship, shakedown through Drake Passage, and cross the Antarctic Convergence. The city's identity has been shaped by this transit function — it is practical, confident, increasingly sophisticated in its dining and accommodation, and possessed of the specific energy of a city that knows it is the last outpost before something immense begins.

But Tierra del Fuego rewards independent exploration, and travellers who move through Ushuaia as an airport-to-ship corridor are missing the point. The Beagle Channel — the body of water that Darwin surveyed between 1831 and 1836, observing the Yaghan indigenous people from the ship's deck with a mixture of fascination and incomprehension — can be cruised by catamaran or zodiac in half-day excursions that pass sea lion colonies, Magellanic penguin rookeries, rock cormorant nesting sites, and the kelp forest ecosystems that make sub-Antarctic waters among the most biologically productive on Earth. Isla Martillo, accessible by small boat, hosts an accessible Magellanic penguin colony where Gentoo penguins have also established a foothold — a mixing of two penguin species at the southern edge of their ranges.

Tierra del Fuego National Park — the only Argentine national park with Atlantic Ocean frontage — begins fifteen kilometres west of the city. The terrain is raw sub-Antarctic: lenga beech forest (deciduous, turning gold in March and April, the Patagonian autumn), beaver-damaged woodland (North American beavers were introduced in 1946 for the fur trade and became an ecological crisis — their dams have altered more than 200,000 hectares of Fuegian landscape), peat bogs, and the Lapataia Bay where the Pan-American Highway technically ends at a sign that makes the obvious joke. The park's trail system is well-maintained and generally underused — the Hito XXIV trail along the Argentine-Chilean border, the Costera trail above the Beagle Channel, and the Pampa Alta circuit offer a spectrum of difficulty and scenery.

The Tren del Fin del Mundo — the End of the World Train — operates a narrow-gauge steam railway through the western edge of the park, following the route of a prisoner-built railway from the early twentieth century. The experience is unashamedly touristic and entirely enjoyable. The scenery through the beech forest, past Lapataia River, with Andean peaks in the background, delivers.

The centolla — Patagonian king crab — is the gastronomic argument for Ushuaia. Harvested from the cold Beagle Channel waters, the crab's legs contain dense, sweet white meat that is among the finest cold-water shellfish anywhere. At Kaupé Restaurant — the city's fine dining benchmark, perched above the channel with views toward Chile — centolla preparations define the menu. At the harbour fish market, you can buy whole cooked crabs and eat them at the dock.

Mount Olivia (1,318m) and Cerro Martial dominate the skyline above the city. The Martial Glacier — diminished but still scenic — is reached by chairlift or a short hike above the aerosilla station. On clear days (which come without warning and leave the same way), the panoramic view over the Beagle Channel, across to Chile and the Darwin Range, is genuinely arresting. Dress for wind regardless of the forecast. The wind always has its own forecast.