On the ferry I took a photo of our dashboard, the start of the drive up the mainland from Primera Angostura, which translated means “first narrows.” It’s where the ferry takes barely half an hour to cross.
Punta Delgada - narrow point- is a collection of ferry offices a snack bar and a convenience store on the north shore. We stopped to check out a restaurant but it was long since closed so we pressed on. Monte Aymond, the border, was just 25 miles away.
There was one more village in Chile just before the border and we braved a mile long bouncy gravel road to check out San Gregorio. Lunch beckoned from Layne’s guidebook.
This is sheep ranching country.
And they have a Wal Mart, kind of, or at least a sense of humor.
But we were hunting for lunch at the San Gregorio Hotel, lovely in pink.
Twelve bucks each for fish soup, delicious:
Bean stew full of smoke flavor from the meat. I liked it more than Layne did. She felt like we were getting two soup courses.
And vanilla custard to finish which even Layne liked but I found perfect.
We were fortified against the rain and mist descending into the valley.
And Argentina welcomed in with a big smile and the usual quota of potholes. You get your passport stamped and then you get your vehicle papers checked by customs then the police stamp Rusty’s Chilean border pass. And in ten minutes we were on our way. Too easy.
I liked this guy with his arms crossed. A hero of the war of independence from Spain. He also fought for the rights of the cowboys (gauchos) and was known as the Father of the Poor.
We got to Rio Gallegos and went to the modern clean gas station to get hot showers ($5 each) and to load back up with fruit and groceries after getting our fruit confiscated by the Chilean customs. Then we went wild camping with our friends Julia and Konstantin, Russian immigrants who live in Seattle.
We last them in Puerto Montt in Chile and they wanted to go see penguins with us in southern Argentina so they showed up. Very cool.
They have got short in their huge Dodge Sprinter van so while we showered at the gas station they went ahead to a campsite.
It was gorgeous, one of those failed developments with roads through the brush leading to nowhere.
Next the penguins. 65 miles of dirt road from Rio Gallegos.
