Monday Morning…

Up North and West a bit. Skirting the border between Chile and Argentina.  Highway 9 from Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales. That was yesterday – Sunday.  A 3.5 hour coach trip and another 250km to reach this remote spot. For the next 4 nights we are staying in a home from home in the Pire Mapu Cottage Bed and Breakfast.

If ever there was a case of the scenery chewing the scenery, then it does not get much better than this view from Puerto Natales, taken this afternoon

If ever there was a case of the scenery chewing the scenery, then it does not get much better than this view from Puerto Natales, taken this afternoon

It was Fabianna this morning. A creative force for good. A whirlwind who collected us from the hotel we stayed on Sunday night’s arrival.  Hotel – Just OK. Small rooms, paper-thin walls. No English spoken. It doesn’t help much. A mild dispute over a reimbursement on our credit card.

Fabianna to the rescue. She distilled the situation. Crystalised the matter.  We walked away in a win-win situation. Unfortunately we have to go back for one more night on Friday. Just one night at least. After leaving bliss. Then we we returned back to her home from where she runs a business with Brendan.

A scene from the window of the Just OK hotel.

A scene from the window of the Just OK hotel.

Her secret weapon. A Yorkshireman. Whom she met in the Falkland Islands. Seconded. While learning English. Without formal training. From the television. Pookaverse will find out what Fabianna watched.

Pookaverse needs to find out a little bit more about their story. As well as ask permission to take some pictures of their Christmas Tree. With red bows! As well as the napkins rendered on board. Hung like pictures. That look hand-painted.


The entry point into Puerto Natales…and the life-size statue of that Giant Sloth…that we missed…from the coach…we will get a picture from one of its caves on thursday

A technique coming to you soon from South America. Pookaverse will bring it back. And Pisco. By the boatload. Don’t ever underestimate how soothing to the ear. The sound of a Yorkshireman’s voice after over 3-months on the road.  More to come on Brendan and Fabianna. And who knows – a picture. With their permission.

However. Where the town is concerned. Remote is a relative word. The town is gearing up for the Summer season though temperatures remain temperate and the rain drizzles down onto a dramatic backdrop from Cerro Benitez peaks of the Cerro Toro formation (that last bit from wiki).

As this town has given itself over to tourism and is fully equipped to get you and your party into the Torres del Paine National Park. By land, sea. Or foot. Goretex from most windows. Shoes and Jackets. And tour operators as frequent street-by-street as pubs in Bristol.

Never out of range from the harbor...25 minutes from where we are staying

Never out of range from the harbor…25 minutes from where we are staying

And to gaze into them. Tourists from every point on the planet. All nationalities present. Mostly young. Shouldering rucksacks and tents. Seeking to walk the ‘W’ through the National Park. Like their forebears who immigrated from all over Europe to find this  settlement. Later the people from Chiloe. The believers in those creatures we talked about on Saturday Night. But will not mention them again here.

The media – from what can be understood – is making whoopee with the end of the world on 21 December 2012. This morning a solitary, elderly talking head on one side of the screen. On the other. Fictional narratives from Hollywood.

Film clips. “Terminator 2: Judgement Day”, “Deep Impact” and “Armageddon”. As well as archive film of the Atomic Tests, Hurricane Katrina’s swansong across New Orleans and environmental film clips from the 70’s of Apocalyptic rubbish strewn landscapes and choking wildlife.

Forgive Pookaverse...we are moving on to glaciers tomorrow. For now...can't get enough of this view...from different angles...

Forgive Pookaverse…we are moving on to glaciers tomorrow. For now…can’t get enough of this view…from different angles…

No expense spared to amp up the concerns of many in Chile that we have spoken to – by proxy. That something big is about to go down. Despite an attempt to cajole or soothe. That nothing will happen. Nothing will change. At least apocalyptically. Its a new word. Amongst the others introduced. Get used to it.

The next apocalypse will be through your letterbox as the bills rain down on the doormat. Or the ‘Beast from the East’ brings Tsunami snow to the UK. Yes we have been checking up on you back over there. We know what’s going on with the weather. From the bbc and your messages.

Pookaverse loves your messages. We read every one. Even the ones we don’t directly reply to so keep ’em coming.

Puerto Natales and the aspect...from walking home last night...

Puerto Natales and this aspect…from walking home last night…across the Tsunami evacuation point…to the Just OK hotel.

Apocalypse, as a vernacular term, originated from the Greek term “apocalypsis,” which literally means “uncovering,” in the sense of revealing something. The term was popularised mainly through Biblical use and carried with it a subtler connotation.

Apocalypse referred to the uncovering of meaning or understanding hidden from mankind in a time or atmosphere dominated by falsehood and misconception.

The truth laid bare by her truculent suitors. Pookaverse will do a 21/12 blog with pictures taken in Santiago where we will be. In hiding. If anything, it should be interesting. Apart from those bills. And flyers.

Wrap up warm. Huddle round your fires with your family and friends.  And whisper thanks. That at least in the UK as the end of the world draws nigh (again) there are no equivalent deities to sick up your entrails.

And  come  fiddle with your naughty bits and suck your marrow dry. Only the wind from the East. And the snow. The ice. The untreated roads. Everything grinding to a halt. “Oooh, we can’t cope with it”. Watneys Red Barrel. Sweden is laughing at us again.  “Snowblowers” said with the same invective as “Helicopters” by BBC-sometimes correspondent Caroline Wyatt. Questions in parliament etc.

Tomorrow we take a boat to a Glacier. And see icebergs. Hopefully. If there are any left. And maybe a condor. Or two. Pictures to come.


6 Responses to “Monday Morning…”

  1. Thompson Says:

    Great pictures – those skies are so impressive. Why does the apocalypse have to happen on the day my holidays start?

  2. Martin Says:

    So the Apocalypse arrives on the 21st does it? Is ‘hangover’ one of the four horsemen as I aim to be spending that day nursing a large one after spending the evening before sampling the delights of a free bar, and avoiding dancing gangnam stylee, at my wife’s works’ christmas do. Though at least it will get me out of being a shepherd at the christmas eve carol service. No don’t ask. Really. Don’t.
    Loving the pictures, looks cold there so I hope you’re wearing your vests.

    • pookaverse Says:

      I am so glad that the Christmas rituals continue Martin. Warmth and fuggliness to you and Mrs R and the nippers. Remember a pair of Alcatraz socks is a candid statement of love in the last seconds before the Apocalypse.

      Try not to pogo to Justin Beiber in an ‘ironic’ sense that only our generation understands. Wish I was there to see it when it all kicks off.

      Though I am glad that we are over 11000k away so I don’t have to watch you ‘nursing a large one’.

  3. jose Says:

    we’ve got blue skies here but its only 1 degree, O tomorrow,wednesday, back to one on thursday , friday when we were promised snow 9 degrees with rain ! After reminding me of 21st December, definitely leaving buying the turkey until 22nd.. . Can’t wait for photo of Brendan and Fabiranna xx

    • pookaverse Says:

      More than we had today Mum. If Fabianna has time, she is going to demonstrate how to create canvas from napkins. Then we will carry the torch home and touch off a blaze 🙂

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