T
HE colossal femur of the Titanosaur towered above me. My attempt to picture the whole sauropod — likely the largest dinosaur to ever wander the earth — was as barren as the surrounding expanse of Patagonia, once a forest where this dragon-like creature ruled.
I made my way into the hushed galleries of the museum to be enlightened.
The MEF (Museum of Palaeontology Egidio Feruglio) is the scientific institute in Trelew, Argentina, where palaeontologists collect, research and reconstruct fossils.
Authentic and replica marine and terrestrial fossils from different geological ages evoke a wide-eyed glimpse of ancient Patagonia. The collection includes giant armadillos, turtles, fish, flightless birds, spiders, crabs, shells, a 2m ammonite and 30 dinosaur skeletons.
My incredulity at the petrified dinosaur egg required an explanation. As the egg lay buried in mud, the slow process of fossilisation took place by the invasion of minerals through tiny pores of the shell. The inside of this egg is now a milky, pearl opal rock. Intact eggs with fossilised embryos are extremely rare. In 1977 the oldest known dinosaur embryo was unearthed in our own Golden Gate National Park, enabling scientists to hatch more secrets.
In 2013, the MEF made global headlines when a shepherd spotted a gigantic fossil bone sticking out of a rock in a remote area in the Patagonian province of Chubut, some 1 300km south of Buenos Aires.
Palaeontologists set up camp at the site. As the first bone was carefully uncovered, it turned out to be a 2.4m femur of a Titanosaur, likely the largest dinosaur ever to roam the Earth.
Imagine the heart that pumped 90l of blood with a single beat around this 70-ton dinosaur! Sir David Attenborough witnessed the cleaning and forensic investigation of over 200 bones in an excellent state of preservation.
After this captivating interlude, I continued chasing dragons — next was the Red Dragon on the Welsh national flag.
In 1865, after a two-month voyage across the Atlantic from Liverpool, the Mimosa made landfall on the shores of a bay where Puerto Madryn is today, on the coast of northern Patagonia.
It was the middle of winter when 153 Welsh settlers disembarked, their daunting task to establish a colony in this inhospitable land.
Their desperate early days came into focus as I stood by the caves in which they sought refuge along the coast. The Museo del Desembarco in Puerto Madryn depicts the calamities faced by these first immigrants — men who were not farmers but coal miners. Their dire need for fresh water forced them to traipse for miles across the dry, dusty land until they reached the Chubut River (from the Tehuelche word chupat, which means “transparent”).
Rising in the Andes Mountains, this river flows 800km east to the Atlantic, where the Welsh made their first settlement, the town of Rawson. They peacefully coexisted with the indigenous Tehuelche, who taught them hunting and fishing techniques and bartered game and horses for bread and sugar.
One of the settlements they established further up the river is the quaint village of Gaiman. It is a hub of Welsh culture, language and nostalgia. Flags and dragon motifs decorate buildings, chapels and houses, built in traditional Welsh style. A Youth Eisteddfod, a Welsh festival of literature, music and performance, is held here every September.
I was treated to a scrumptious, traditional Welsh tea at a cafe called Ty Te Caerdydd, which proudly announces it was visited by “Lady Diana, Princesa de Gales” in 1995. The cup she drank from is displayed in a glass case.
The Welsh dragon trail winds along Rio Chubut to the lush valley of Trevelin, with views of the snow-capped Andes. Catch the ghosts of the outlaws Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in nearby Cholila, where they lived peacefully among Welsh settlers on their ranch from 1902 to 1907 — whilst carrying on their bandit ways.
If you head 300km down the coast you can enjoy melktert, koeksisters and brandewyn-enCoke with the Afrikaners in Sarmiento. You might even catch a rugby match and shout for the Springboks with them, while eating biltong made from guanaco (a type of llama).
These are not the usual “expats”, but descendants of the Boer pioneers who disembarked at Comodoro Rivadavia in 1903 to forge a life in this windswept, Karoo-like desert. In this area is a petrified forest of massive, ancient tree trunks — leftovers of the dinosaurs’ food. But this adventure was for another day. I returned to Puerto Madryn enriched by my encounters with two distinctive “dragons” of this corner of Patagonia. — © Moira Smart
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