March 25 Day 38
Our pick up didn't come for us until after 6:30 and was confused, not looking for Meg's name directly under mine as the second person from our hostel but asking about someone named victor. He often stopped to look at maps to figure out where we were and spent long periods of time looking confused and staring at his list. We spent more than an hour in the shuttle, including stopping for 15 minutes at a hotel and not finding anyone to get on the bus. We arrived an hour late to a bus full of tired looking passengers and Meg heard him complain about heavy traffic in town. Right.
The road back to Puerto Natales was as desolate as ever but it was more involved at the border crossing. The Argentinian side was quite straightforward but at the Chilean side we had to unload all of our bags off of the bus and declare pretty much any food product we had, with everything being x-rayed. People had tried to being potatoes and avocados across the border and they were all confiscated. Fortunately, they weren't interested in our sandwiches and we didn't mention our dried fruit since it was bought in Chile.
Back at the bus, our company asked if we were going to Puerto Natales or Torres Del Paines and put our bags in the corresponding compartments. They waited until we were back on the bus and 2/3 of the people were on a washroom break to tell us that no one was continuing on the bus and we had to pick everything up again and go on a shuttle. The shuttle had no luggage space so the passenger seat, the overhead compartments and and spare floor space were covered with bags. At least we got there, but this bus company seemed to specialize in confusion.
We picked up tickets from the company we wanted ( their drop off point was very close to where we were staying in Punta Arenas) and killed 90 minutes at the surprisingly nice cafe there. Meg tried to drink a serving of mate but regretted her decision, while my hot chocolate was excellent. We were both reminded that for some reason all of the restaurants in Puerto Natales place cover version playlists, and the cafe was giving us white reggae versions of 80s hits.
We had a stress-free trip to Punta Arenas and a very windy walk to our hostel. It had no sign at all so it was good that we had the full address. The man running it was very friendly and talkative. We had full use of the kitchen and he only had one other room in use. He told us where to do our laundry and food shopping and off we went.
The guide books are not kind to Punta Arenas but the trees there are robust and well-groomed and there were many nice buildings in the downtown. The vibe was good, as this was a city that existed on its own, not just for tourists.
The supermarket was well stocked and we walked back along a street which had vendors just packing up and some homeless people that gave the city a bit more of an edge. We made a nice sauce and chatted with he other couple there who were young and planning for their own hikes. Our room was cose`y and, once the loud dance music outside died down at about 10, we slept well.
Our pick up didn't come for us until after 6:30 and was confused, not looking for Meg's name directly under mine as the second person from our hostel but asking about someone named victor. He often stopped to look at maps to figure out where we were and spent long periods of time looking confused and staring at his list. We spent more than an hour in the shuttle, including stopping for 15 minutes at a hotel and not finding anyone to get on the bus. We arrived an hour late to a bus full of tired looking passengers and Meg heard him complain about heavy traffic in town. Right.
The road back to Puerto Natales was as desolate as ever but it was more involved at the border crossing. The Argentinian side was quite straightforward but at the Chilean side we had to unload all of our bags off of the bus and declare pretty much any food product we had, with everything being x-rayed. People had tried to being potatoes and avocados across the border and they were all confiscated. Fortunately, they weren't interested in our sandwiches and we didn't mention our dried fruit since it was bought in Chile.
Back at the bus, our company asked if we were going to Puerto Natales or Torres Del Paines and put our bags in the corresponding compartments. They waited until we were back on the bus and 2/3 of the people were on a washroom break to tell us that no one was continuing on the bus and we had to pick everything up again and go on a shuttle. The shuttle had no luggage space so the passenger seat, the overhead compartments and and spare floor space were covered with bags. At least we got there, but this bus company seemed to specialize in confusion.
We picked up tickets from the company we wanted ( their drop off point was very close to where we were staying in Punta Arenas) and killed 90 minutes at the surprisingly nice cafe there. Meg tried to drink a serving of mate but regretted her decision, while my hot chocolate was excellent. We were both reminded that for some reason all of the restaurants in Puerto Natales place cover version playlists, and the cafe was giving us white reggae versions of 80s hits.
We had a stress-free trip to Punta Arenas and a very windy walk to our hostel. It had no sign at all so it was good that we had the full address. The man running it was very friendly and talkative. We had full use of the kitchen and he only had one other room in use. He told us where to do our laundry and food shopping and off we went.
The guide books are not kind to Punta Arenas but the trees there are robust and well-groomed and there were many nice buildings in the downtown. The vibe was good, as this was a city that existed on its own, not just for tourists.
The supermarket was well stocked and we walked back along a street which had vendors just packing up and some homeless people that gave the city a bit more of an edge. We made a nice sauce and chatted with he other couple there who were young and planning for their own hikes. Our room was cose`y and, once the loud dance music outside died down at about 10, we slept well.
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| Punta Arenas gave us the opportunity to revisit Patagonia's past. |
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