Day 144 - Our final journey southwards

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There is a business in Ushuaia that operates a sort of taxi service between Ushuaia, the world's second most southerly city, and the Chilean city of Puerto Williams across the Beagle Channel. They have space for 6 people a day and so this morning we headed down to the yacht club to travel by zodiac to Isla Navarino, first getting our Argentinan exit stamps in our passports.

We reached Chile and cleared customs, not knowing that the following morning we'd be picking up the customs inspector and the immigration official from their homes and taking them to work. Then a minibus arrived and took us to Puerto Williams, dropping us off in the city centre (a few paving stones). This city is a funny place, and the emphasis is definitely on the navy base. We had lunch at a hostel with Ben, an English guy working for the BBC scoping out logistics for a children's TV series to be filmed out here. We'd asked if lunch was available and the owner replied, in English, "it depends how my wife is feeling" and then hollering her name.

There's not a huge amount to do so we walked to an indian settlement just beyond the city limits. Here they sell handicrafts made by the few indians who are motivated enough to earn more than they get from their apparently generous government allowance (and who aren't alcoholics). We had a few beers in Angelus, the only bar that was open, and chatted with the owner Loretto. She turned out to be a good ally. In here we also met a couple of Dutchmen, in their 60's, who had just realised a lifetime ambition by sailing around Cape Horn. One of them is actually from Hoorn in the Netherlands which Cape Horn is named after. Both were more than a little chuffed to say the least. We didn't get to visit Cape Horn - the closest we got was taking a photo of their camera displaying a photo of Cape Horn.

After the obligatory visit to the yacht club (an old ship listening significantly but that hasn't moved for many years), and a pisco sour, we went looking for dinner. We tried everywhere in the guidebook and all were either closed or closed down. There was a boat coming a couple of days later with supplies and it was as if the restaurants were plain out of food. As a last resort we returned to the pub as we knew they had peanuts and cakes. From somewhere Loretto conjued up a feast of chicken and rice, which was very much appreciated especially at 10.30 at night. Then we turned our attentions to the wine rack and set about getting drunk with our companions Ben and Annie, an English lady who had just returned from Antarctica.

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