?Mañana?. "This is South America."

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Dropped round Erratic rock and said my goodbyes. Photo of the team and me for posterity. Its phiily cheese steak sandwich tonight. Shall miss them all and the good cheap food and drink. Promised to return one day. Might even come back for the season and help out at the bar. Life has a funny way of lending a hand in this area.
Writing this entry on first day on board the navimag. (navi as in Irish road builder- navvy) Calm day. Sun breaking though occasionally as boat makes its way through the fjords of Patagonia. ( or feeordland as the american folks on the boat call it). Mountain and glaciers to the left and right. A beautiful setting. Saw a whale this morning .so lucky . Came out of the cabin onto the port side for a cigarette and there it was. Surfaced and then went back down. Two huge blow holes and a large black body. Not much big tail action though so guess just cruising along. Then it went back under. Very exciting.
So we did not get onto the boat til midnight . It was late getting into port.the boat is a mixture of travellers young and old from all points if the compass. Some travelling alone like myself and Robert, a horticulturalist from Limerick, many couples and then a few groups of friends. There are a lot if Swiss on the boat. Bridget, a 60ish lady and her sister from Zurich have introduced ourselves. I think she was surprised that i can speak a little Spanish and french. Under the impression that people whose first language is English and expecting the whole world to speak it too . Hopefully nipped that small stereotype of me in the bud. Maggie, the woman I pissed off with my snoring on the first night in Puerto Natales is on the boat. She has said hi but that's all. At least she is not in my cabin. Talking of which had a result there too. A four berth cabin there are only three if us in there. A young couple from Holland who seem very sweet and me. I gave them the full briefing about if I snore and that they should punch me or wake me. Also pulled the lad to one side and told him if he wanted some privacy with his girl ,they having been on the road for a few months, then just say. So hope I have got off on the right foot, so to speak.
So sat in the bar now with folks playing cards around me,sleeping, looking at pictures. Some wandering around with their laptops looking for a signal to email/internet. So sad. We are In the middle of # nowhere. Still amusing to me how some folks lives are ruled by the Internet and they do not have all the information they are a lesser person by it.
So, why ?Mañana?,"This is South America."
It is becoming clear to me now that people in SA just don't think like we do. And it's everywhere. They operate in a different time and space dimension to those in the northern hemisphere. You hear it all the time don't you. 'Manana.' as in, it will happen sometime. But what does it actually mean? It' s a whole way of life.
You recall my crazy bus drivers? It's mañana baby.
Catching a cab to the ferry check in a classic example. John, the seafarer from the Erratic bar, wants to see the boat I am in and so hops in the cab too. The hotel is at the end of the street a about 1 km away. It's only 1000 peso and will prevent unnecessary burden on my knee. We pile in. "el hotel a final de la calle" I instruct the driver, a man who has lived in a town the size of my fingernail his entire life, which judging by his appearance, would be about 40yrs. Having walked along the water front for the past few days in search of Balloo the bear I know the hotel is called the austral and us painted bright yellow. "que?" came the response. Maybe I had said it wrong. El hotel a final de la calle- hotel at end of the street. "hotel austral, grande y ammarillo, para el navimag ferry a final de la calle" and pointed down the street. # me you could almost see my destination from the top of the hill. Still nothing. Not a hint of recognition where the big yellow austral hotel at the end of the street was. John " shit ( pronounced in American brogue- sheet) man." " The goddamn navy mag. The NAVY mag ferry." still nothing. "señor, todo directo para una kilometre." I said and pointed down the hill. eventually we pull off with John cussing under his breath, having experienced this thinking for years and years. I understand now when I first arrived in Puerto Natales and asked someone for directions they had the rabbit staring into the headlights gaze. PN, only has two squares. Plaza Armas and plaza Bernardo o' Higgins . I wanted the later. A vacant stare. I broke out the map. Big big mistake. Might as well handed him a map of the # moon. He looks at it, turns it upside down and it's clear for a man who had lived in the same house since his was shitting yellow has not the first clue where the # he is. Never stepped foot outside his own 'barrio ' (small district of a couple of blocks) his entire life. Everything he needs is on his door. Eventually , still with a puzzled look in his eye he pointed up the street. Gracias I say. Guess what? Totally wrong # direction. Humped my bag to the end of the street, worked out some road names at a junction turned round and walked back the way I had come. Past the man who was still stood on his porch. Gracias I said. He waved but it was clear to me that he was still in shock from seeing a map of his town for the first time in his life and that there was something beyond his barrio.
So, the cab drives straight. I see my hotel looming ahead. John mentions that he once was seeing a broad from the hotel Indigo, which is another hotel in town but much further out along the waterfront by balloo the bear. "Nice looker" he says with a quiet reminiscence of past sexual conquests. So we arrive at the big yellow austral hotel and the end of the street. What does my taxi driver do? Only drives straight past it to the hotel # indigo! Which is not big, not yellow, and not at the end of the # street.!!! "Godammit" shouts John " what the #" "señor, no hotel austral" I say and frantically point at the big yellow hotel now quickly disappearing into the distance behind us. " esta aqui" he says as we stop outside the hotel ingido which, ironically is painted brown. Then at last, some rocognition of what I required. I guess it was me saying no, pointing back down the street, us refusing to get out of the cab and Johns cussing. We turned round. John by now under strict instructions from me not to talk about his quite active sex life, which at 71 is pretty remarkable, and under no circumstances whatsoever was he to mention the name of a hotel he had # a woman in until we had alighted .
So, we pull up outside the hotel austral, the big yellow, and only yellow hotel, at the end of the street. In fact I can safely say that the hotel austral is the only big yellow # hotel in the whole of Puerto Natales!!! We pay our fare. No tip as despite being outside the only big yellow hotel in PN called austral and despite being opposite the ferry terminal something seemed amiss. Not one sign or indication that I was in the right place. Nothing. Nothing with the navimag logo and no navimag ship at the quayside. I venture in and speak to the manager of the hotel behind the impressive looking counter. I would say it is a 3 star place and some well to do tourists stay there. So a scruffy traveller type like me, tramping on the carpet might not be welcome. Before I open my mouth he points me to leave to hotel, and that the door to the check in is round the corner and the rear of the hotel. So walk round. Still no sign or any sort of indication. Clearly beyond level of thinking to prevent travelers tramping though reception and to assist where they should actuallly be to have some sort of sign. But their logic must be ' i know where it is, therefore do must everyone else' unless it is to keep the cleaner busy sweeping all the mud and dirt from hundreds of hiking boots that cross the shagpile carpet every time the ship is in.
See two travellers walk out of a doorway. "Navimag?" "In here mate" they reply. So in I went with John. There being no boat to admire he chipped off. Somehow I knew I would see him again sometime on my travels.
So check in. Navimag have been running travellers up and down feeordland now for years and from the price they charge it keeps low the running of the boat for the people of Patagonia and the trade around the country. No worries from me on that score at all. A professional and well run operation with a decent website, if you can judge a company by that. I walk in to the room. Three desks four chairs hundreds of rucksacks piled up and one man. He checks my ticket and nods and sends me into the next room. Five desks six chairs one woman big queue. Great. So checked my name and in my best Spanish asked for a lower bunk as tengo delor de mi piene- pain in leg. All done. The lady speaks no English. I understand that the boat is late and the embarkation will be at midnight, in 5 hrs time. Then she tries to explain what I need to do with my bag. I don't understand. Eventually a woman in the queue translates. Transpires I need to give my cabin number and bag to the man next door with three desks,it will be added to the rucksack mountain, and it will be put on the boat. Amazing. This ferrying travellers about has been happening for years, the only persons doing it are foreigners and mainly English speaking and yet it has never occurred to have someone write down for those that don't understand 'Take your bag and cabin number to the man next door and your bag will be put in your berth' The woman behind five desks knows what should happen to the bags, ergo so should I. Bonkers. I need a pint as this is insane.
So, It is 7pm. Marvellous. Check bag next door with the man sat behind three desks and guess then, with 5 hours to kill, its back to Erratic and a Philly cheese steak sarnie and a beer to try and make sense of the past 60 mins. Walk in and bid my hello. John sat in bar. We laugh about the taxi ride till tears are in my eyes and I am hurting from laughing so much.
Bill chips in to reassure me as to how two beat up old red necks from Salem Oregon can seem go-getting in SA. Chile is huge on receipts. Everything, and I mean everything you do, buy or even think about buying will have a receipt, handwritten and in triplicate. Each receipt has a consecutive number. So day one of opening Erratic rock first receipt 0001. When the receipts run out back to the printers for more. Do the printers keep check on where the business is for the next batch of receipt?. No. So every time the same numbers come back and then a re-print in needed with Bill having to work out the next start number required for auditing purposes. This has gone on for several years now and whilst I was there it happened again. So this time Bil finally snaps and says to the owner of this small and only printing company in PN, " after several years of this print and then re-print fiasco, do you think you could keep a record of the numbers issued and numbers to come for me? It' s one less thing for me to worry about".
"Like we do for all our other customers?" came the reply " why did no not just say so?"
"Sheet" says John , "this is south America man, and they are everywhere!"

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Photos

John the Alaskino
they broke the mould when they made this guy.