We have a prime spot on a largely deserted beach. It’s the weekend, no crowds lots of sunshine and though it’s too cold to swim it’s a lovely spot. We could be here or we could be fighting the crowds shopping in Puerto Montt for supplies. I don’t know what you would do but I know how we enjoy our retirement. And no fears of being robbed. Yes I know this is Latin America but don’t worry about stereotypes. We’re good here all on our lonesome.
On a peninsula of sand between two bodies of salt water surrounded by farmland.
We waved, they looked young enough they ought not to be allowed out on their own but that’s refer to on of my advanced years. Layne thought they were French as she got undressed in the fresh air. I thought they were German as they are so pale and blond. We knew they were European as they sat primly at a properly set table for breakfast as only European campers do. (All stereotypes apply on the road. Americans are loud and brash and speak only English of course).
GANNET2 in the wild.
More walking please.
The rental campers enjoyed some sun.
A couple of Chilean families camping together up the beach meant we were not completely alone. They are fearless when it comes to icy water.
Beautiful but cold.
A local guy exchanged good mornings with me and strode off down the beach.
Rusty checking the dried seaweed.
I saw a pod of dolphins hunting breakfast.
No prickles no mosquitoes few flies and a high near 70. Not bad huh?
Time to get my book out. A Daniel Alarcón novel set in Peru, “Lost City Radio” which I’m alternating with Webb Chile’s “Fifth Circle” passage notes from a circumnavigation in 2008. Happy days.
Happy days for us too. I hope and trust anarchy at home isn’t affecting you.
And if you’ve made it this far here’s a photo from Layne showing the souvenir she bought in Ancud I mentioned previously. We ended up with the one flat on the table after going back and forth between the two round pictures made with woolen thread.
