Punta Arenas


Simon and I decided we´d go down to the end of the road from here and thus the end of the American landmass. On the way down, I was playing around with the words; 'It was dark before I drove the point home', 'never let it be said this was a pointless journey', 'it was dusk when we came to the point', that kind of thing, but in reality there was no point. Only a gravel road turning into a beach, beech trees turning into Autumn and the Magellan Strait turning past Isla Dawson (Pinochet put his political prisoners here). We drank a Pisco toast to the end of the road.

Lunched on the way back at Cuidad del Rey Felipe. Sarmiento de Gamboa meant no harm. He left Spain in 1581 with three thousand people and twenty three ships to settle the Magellan Strait. Beset by torments, desertion and disease he arrived at our lunch spot with 150 people. The situation got worse so he sailed for help with a small crew but was blown off course by storms, ending up in Brazil. Despite desperate pleas, there was no help so he sailed for Europe only to be captured by the British and then tortured by the French, arriving in Spain an old and deeply sorry man. When discovered, all were dead at Cuidad del Rey Felipe. They renamed the place Port Famine. A place for unfixable regrets.

Had a final beautiful cycle back to Punta Arenas with dolphins accompanying us up the coast. It´s turning cold, now. Need to find a box for the bike. Time to head home.

Degrees South: 53.9

Miles cycled: 1228