A Yank, A Pom and an Aussie Walk Into a Bar.

If the weather last night looked awful then it is downright diabolical today. We leave Ushuaia, finally heading north after 4,600km of southward travel, in pouring rain and freezing temperatures. As we climb the pass out of town the rain gives way to snow and the wind whips up to a gentle gale. Down the other side and out toward the arid flat expanse and the weather barely improves. We take every opportunity to warm ourselves in service stations but eventually we must go back out into Mother Nature’s wrath and push on.

Yeah, it was cold!

By midday we have reached the border back into Chile where Paul, a GP, self diagnoses the onset of Hypothermia. We bundle him into a nearby cafe and ply him with delicious hot soup and empanadas and within an hour he revises the diagnosis to OK and we are ready to move on. Mother Nature has been biding her time however and as we step out the door the rain has stopped but we are assaulted by a violent Patagonian wind that even JC, a veteran of 33 visits to the area, proclaims to be some of the worst he has ever seen. We are pommeled and beaten with uncommon ferocity and maintaining any sort of riding rhythm is all but impossible. If it is hard for me then it is even harder for Sally who is almost reduced to tears by the time we reach our overnight stop in the tiny frontier town of Cerro Sombrero.

No sooner did we arrive at the only hotel in town than a group of British bikers heading south rolled into the car park, then moments later a group of Americans turned up. A night of banter followed with such time worn one liners as “You can always tell a Yank, you just can’t tell him much” and “I love the British Isles but not the people who live there.”

How do you get that under a helmet?

Scott and JC had gone on ahead to try to make it to Punta Arenas where Scott’s bike has finally been delivered from the depths of the customs purgatory it had been embroiled in for nearly three weeks now but the wind was so intense that the ferry was closed down for the day, so they returned empty handed

Next morning 28 bikes leave town bound for their various destinations.

28 Bikes bound for parts unknown.

For us it is across the Magellan Strait again and back into Argentina. On the ferry we witness the slightly unusual sight of Commerson’s Dolphins playing in the wake, their striking black and white markings making them look like their bigger cousins the Orcas.

Off the ferry and Scott and JC turn west for Punta Arenas and the rest of us make a right and head north. The wind has mercifully eased to a dull roar but the temperature stays well into single digits all day. Sally’s battering yesterday at the mercy of the wind has lead her to the sensible decision to once again take a seat in the https://compassexpeditions.com/ support truck.

By mid afternoon we are in San Julian, these days little more than a fishing village but once an important staging point for the Argentinian military during the Falkland’s conflict (it was never a declared war) against the British. Despite having their arses properly kicked and making an unconditional surrender, Argentina still firmly believe the Malvinas as they know them are Argentinian property. Even the people of the islands overwhelmingly support British rule. But Argentina won’t hear it. There is even a jet fighter from the battle proudly displaying three shipping kills mounted on a plinth in a memorial park outside our hotel.

Hero of the Falklands.

We find a restaurant in what appears to be an old opera house. These days it is a disco playing awful remixes of old hits but the food is great. The language barrier causes much amusement for us on a regular basis and tonight it is Sally who gets a surprise when she orders dessert only to have a selection of four sweet treats arrive at the table. Being the gentleman that I am I valiantly offer to help and soon the mountain of mousse, creme broulee, fruit crumble and other culinary delights are reduced to a few dirty dishes.

When you don’t quite understand the language and you think you order one dessert.

By now we learn that Scott and JC have returned from their mission and yes Scott and Gina finally have their own bike and their own gear.

Finally!

The relief is palpable. Tomorrow is only going to get better!