At Long Last in Patagonia

The marido and I are kickin' it in southern Chile. It took as long to get here as it did to get to Nepal. Flights were late all the way, which gave us some unexpected time in Santiago (not a bad thing on a beautiful summer day). We hopped on a bus at the airport and went downtown during a layover.

Augusto Pinochet died this week. His dead face, pasty and white, is plastered on newspapers and magazines. I expected to see some change (I’m not sure what), but things felt the same as when I was here in 2003, ordered and clean. The statue of Salvador Allende near La Moneda sparks with a little color. It’s adorned with carnations and gladiolas, love letters, poetry, and political statements, taped on in remembrance. His ankles are covered with masking tape holding on a small bouquet that reaches his knees. Chile, I think, is poised to move on.

This afternoon we’ll get a boat to Isla Magadalena where a colony of 120,000 penguins live. Hopefully some of the fog and rain will clear a bit. We don’t depart until 4:00, and it looks like it stays light until well after 10:00.