Covering 15 Jan 2019 – 16 Jan 2019
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a table and chair set upside down on
a restaurant ceiling in Punta Arenas |
Just how far south we’d gone can be judged by knowing
that Punta Arenas is only about 40 miles or so from the southernmost tip of the
American mainland although there are many islands clustered around and to the
south of it. If it was possible to stand
on the highest point here and look far enough eastwards, the first thing you’d
see other than water would be the back of your head. There’s no land at this latitude apart from
this place unless there’s some speck of an island in the way while New Zealand
lies several hundred miles north of that impossible sight line.
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| very intricate mural in Punta Arenas - look carefully |
We picked up our first hire car of the trip at the
quiet and windswept airport and made our way to our hotel, set a road’s width
from the ocean which was sparkling and sprinkled with islands. The hotel owner told us that there were
whales to be seen yesterday; it is always
yesterday. The hotel was 15 miles or so
from town and so digging out previously unused coats from deep down in our
luggage we drove into town for dinner.
Bonnie and Newt had booked a number of things for all
of us here, flight, car and hotels so that saved Heather quite a lot of
investigation and booking time. See how
useful it is to travel with them ?
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the shop at the town with the windsock
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Although we were to return to Punta Arenas when we left
the area, this was only a one night stop before we drove back north to Puerto Natales,
the gateway to The Torres del Paine National Park. It was a three hour drive along a very empty
road through a mostly farmed landscape with few trees. We passed just the one village on the way,
the only one I’ve ever seen with its own windsock,
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that windsock
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which offers a strong clue
to the windiness of the place. Puerto Natales
reminded us very much of villages/towns along the coast of northern
Norway. There were snow-capped mountains
visible across water which didn’t need to be tested for me to know was freezing
cold. There were very colourful fishing
boats hunkered down close to shore. The
buildings near the shore were frequently a mixture of bleached timber and corrugated
iron and the waterfront area had an air of ‘end-of-season’ about it.
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| approaching Puerto Natales |
The town was nothing particularly special, low rise,
not much litter, mostly on a grid pattern and with the ubiquitous Plaza de
Armas. The Plaza had a very good
vegetarian restaurant run by an Englishman who had escaped from Croydon (a less
than wonderful outer suburb of London for non-British readers). Croydon
is the birthplace of Kate Moss the model and Carries the name of the hairstyle
favoured by less glamorous young women where the hair is dragged back very tightly
and fixed behind the head in a ponytail.
A style known as a Croydon Facelift, often seen worn by girls whose
faces look as if they’re made of pastry.
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| from the beach, Puerto Natales |
Our hotel had an employee called Mrs Grump. At least that’s what we believe and these
days it appears that is all that’s necessary for it to be true. One night after dinner we got back to find
that the lock on our room was jammed and because it opened straight onto the
garden, we were outside. It was
cold. We told Mrs Grump who came and
tried the key herself because we were obviously unable to operate one. She went and got someone else who did the
same thing. Eventually we discovered
that a man had been called for. All this
was without any eye contact, sympathy or a sorry, an offer of sitting inside
the hotel or perhaps a drink. Mrs Grump
was a smoker and the reception stank of smoke although she told us that it
didn’t after we’d come out coughing. The
Man arrived with no tools except a screwdriver and also checked that the key
didn’t work so he began to slide a small flexible strip up where the latch was
to pop it open. I pointed out that when
we had gone out I had put the deadlock on which meant his flexistrip wouldn’t
work. This gave Mrs Grump the opportunity
to blame me for the problem because I should not have put the deadlock on. It was getting colder. You must understand that there is a certain
amount of interpretation in this story because she only spoke machine-gun
monotone Spanish and we don’t.
Eventually with the aid of a pair of pliers from the hotel he pulled the
whole lock barrel off, managed to get the deadlock open and then replace the
lock, giving us the only key. He was as
communicative as he could be but we never did get a word of what might have
been sympathy or any eye contact from Mrs Grump. My Spanish didn’t quite run to “ask for your
money back from that customer relations course”. We were in our room only an hour and a half
after we had first tried to unlock the door.
Having said goodnight to Bonnie and Newt as we arrived back at the hotel
they were probably fast asleep by the time we got inside. In the morning as Heather handed the key in,
Mrs Grump told her that she’d leave the key in the lock after the room had been
cleaned because “it is safe here”. Bit
of a hiatus ensued and Heather had to just grab the key back and we went out
for the day with it.
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| American Kestrel |
Before we’d even got down here we had done something
unusual for us and that was a bit of advance pre-planning. I said that Puerto Natales reminded me of
Norway and you may not know that the coast for hundreds of miles north of it is
indented with Chilean fjords. There is
the chance of seeing the Southern Lights or Aurora Australis at these latitudes
and there is a boat which runs to Puerto Montt from which could enjoy the
fjords. This was a definite possibility.
Puerto Montt is the town we had to fly
to in order to connect with the Chilean road system which to be honest is just
one north/south road. The voyage takes
four days and three nights on a ship which we found out is more cargo oriented
than a ferry, with accommodation somewhat like dormitories with bunk beds and
shared lavatory/shower. If that wasn’t
enough to make us reconsider we found a review which described the
accommodation as being ”located at the bottom of the ship, scattered alongside
the engine room, the generator, the anchor-chain dropping room and the rock
concert amplifier testing room”. Then we
found that it was fully booked. Phew !
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| shepherd and his flock |
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| enjoying the cool of the south |
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