27.01.2017 - 14.02.2017
Going down and up the stairs to get to the car through the rain, I managed to slip on the final step before leaving Caleta Tortel. I kept it to myself. Nobody knows.
A bit of driving, a ferry, two more hours of driving with four backpackers in the back of the pickup truck, and we arrived in Villa O’Higgins. The end of the road.
This town right by the Argentinian border was founded not too long ago when this area was contested between Argentina and Chile. It’s quietened down now, but the precise borderline has still not been demarcated. It’s just that everyone prefers not to talk about it.
While we were confirming our glacier boat trip for tomorrow, we ran into an Austrian-American pilot who has traveled all over the world (80 countries, he says), whose 16-year old daughter is trilingual (German, Spanish, English) and waits tables in the hotel restaurant. He was advertising his flights by the glaciers, managed to find two Israeli cyclists to join us, and took us up for a 30-minute, 30-second (his timing) flight. At a price, of course. That was an unexpected joy. Both before and afterwards, he told us all, well some, about his life as a nomad, even as a child, his obvious passion for flying as much as this particular region and beating the system.