As I looked out the window of the ferry, watching the sunset over the mountains of Patagonia I felt both relief and frustration. Relief that I was moving once again and that in another 36 hours I will be riding towards Argentina and my ultimate goal, Ushuaia. Frustration because I have lost three days of riding while sitting around Puerto Chacbuco, another day and a half on this ferry and that I will have to head north before I can turn east then ultimately south towards Ushuaia. Heading north does not feel right, Ushuaia is south and I have not gone north since August 18, 2011, the day I reached Prudhoe Bay Alaska.
I feel fortunate that the protests did not turn violent and that other than additional ferry costs I am not out anything other than riding time. It was time that was well spent, reading, communicating with friends at home and making new friends. I met other tourists, a Dutch family and an American couple, in the same situation as me and we became instant friends. Sharing travel stories, discussing our situation, cooking and giving each other Chilean rebel names helped pass the time and make the best of a bad situation. I became “el Canuck”, the others will have to remain anonymous; anonymity is part of our rebel code.
After two nights on the uncomfortable ferry I ended up back where I originally started almost a week ago. I now have a new route planned, one that will take me away from the hot spots in Chile and into Argentina tomorrow. Despite the problems I had a great time in Chile, and hope to one day return. It doesn’t hurt that one of the last people I spoke to here was a pretty young woman on the ferry who smelled like fresh peaches, good final impression.