Punta Arenas, Chile

Tierra del Fuego - the island at the bottom of the continent, and our final destination - takes a bit of explaining because of border technicalities between Argentina and Chile. To get to the very bottom, you have to enter Chile, cross the Magellan Straits; then, once on the island re-enter Argentina.



Argentina in White, Chile in Brown

 Crossing into Chile it became immediately obvious that this is a country which, economically and adminstratively at least, has managed to get it right. The roads are 21st century, the border officials are efficient, even the ink on the passport stamp contrasts sharply against the Argentinian smudge.

Having given up on the idea of rushing for the last car ferry, 100 kilometres of intellectual debate (about why some countries get rich while others languish in their past) eventually brought us to the Chilean city of Punta Arenas. This place is living, breathing proof that the Chileans have managed to do something with their oil reserves, copper mines and 20-year economic boom.

Our hotel for the night.

Oh...alright then, I guess we can stay for two.

Down in these parts, the main items on the menu also change as Bife de Chorizo and Parilla food in general comes a distant second to king crab in cream, octopus in garlic butter, and the nice-sounding but ultimately disappointing conger eel.



King Crab a la creme.

 By the end of day two, we were itching to get away, which just goes to show. Nice as it was to arrive in after a tiring drive, Punta Arena was a bit like what I imagine Copenhagen would be like. Orderly, pleasant - but just a bit bland.


...kind of like this photo and, come to think of it, the King Crab too.

Off we went towards the car ferry, an easy drive 100km back the way we had come, but not before unbelievably another wrong turn once again led us an hour or so in the exact opposite direction to where we needed to go. Still, we made the 1pm with plenty of time to spare, and a half hour later, landed in Teirra del Fuego.