February 21 – 1 March. The two-hour crossing into Punta Arenas passed quickly. We arrived with a simple plan: get what we needed and move on. Just a few items to prepare for the O. Two nights, a bit of shopping, then on to Puerto Natales.

The duty-free zone in Punta Arenas is a strange and wonderful contradiction—vast, echoing retail halls that feel completely staged, like a TV commercial set. No customers, just highly motivated sales staff. Glancing at a new Garmin Fenix 8, I asked the price—$150 USD less than the previous store. But like I said, they were motivated… and came down even further to cinch the deal. So I walked out, unexpectedly, with a new watch. Brand new, sealed in the box.

In another store, we found Jaxon a perfectly fitting set of hiking gear—boots, poles, top, and rain jacket—all urgently needed. With only a week to break them in, it felt like a gamble. But 130+ km in boots that were too small wasn’t even worth considering. “Put them on and leave them on,” we told him.

THE CULTURE OF NOISE

Friday night we parked at the end of a long waterfront road—unintentionally claiming what was clearly the local drag strip. The “tuner” crowd came alive after midnight. Think ‘The Fast and the Furious’ movie energy, but without the speed. Loud exhausts, heavy bass, engines revving with great enthusiasm… and very little actual movement. A culture of noise, style, and presence. I don’t quite get it—but we certainly experienced it. Sleep, unfortunately, did not. Between 2 and 6am, the night pulsed with distorted music and revving engines, each car taking its turn in the spotlight. Seriously, it’s a thing!

The next night we didn’t make the same mistake. We drove out of town, up through the suburbs and into a quiet valley. It wasn’t remarkable in any way—no grand views, no hidden gem—but it was silent. And that was enough.

The old town of Punta Arenas has a lovely feel—boutique stores, cafés, and restaurants. The waterfront has been redesigned for cruise ships to spill thousands of shoppers and sightseers into the streets. Old buildings are painted with murals depicting daily life from a hundred years ago.

TRUCK MAINTENANCE & LAUNDRY

Heading north from Punta Arenas, we made our way toward Puerto Natales, stopping about 60 km short at a wild riverside camp that turned into an unexpected three-night stay. It’s clearly a popular stop for travellers.

The first night we shared it with a French family and their two young girls. The day was spent by both families doing laundry—ours by hand (plunger and hand-crank wringer), theirs with a portable electric washing machine. Not sure which was more effective, but the camp was strung with clothes, flapping in the Patagonian breeze.

The second night we were alone. The third, we were joined by a Swiss-Thai couple we’d met months earlier in Santiago.

Late one morning, Sara and Huw crossed paths with us briefly, stopping in on their way back to Punta Arenas after blowing a tire and needing a new spare. Over a quick catch-up, they floated the idea of tackling the Puna Route in northern Argentina together. Another remote dirt road adventure… hmm, tempting, if Bruce is up for it.

Tim had also been busy on the truck. The accelerator pneumatic linkage had failed, so he patched it with JB Weld and tie wire—hopefully enough to last until we can install the replacement Wenke and Mario brought from Germany. More concerning was a new “tink-tink-tink” sound at a certain RPM. After some investigation (and frustration), it turned out the fan was hitting the shroud. A few adjustments later, and all is running smoothly again. Possibly linked to the engine mount failure a couple of weeks ago.

PUERTO NATALES – more art than most

Oh, I like this town. It has a great vibe—laid-back but lively. Designer tourist shops, outdoor stores, galleries—it invites wandering. Even the garbage bins are hand-painted by a local artist, adding a bit of flair to the streets.

Along the waterfront, where the wind never really stops, the sculptures feel like they belong to it. The floating figures of Amor al Viento hang out over the water as if they’ve been lifted and carried by the gusts themselves.

A little further along, another sculpture shows two men—one Indigenous, the other a settler—representing the region’s early people and workers, often seen as gauchos or pioneers. Nearby, there’s also a sculpture of the giant ground sloth that once roamed this region.

The large hand sculpture, smaller but reminiscent of the Mano del Desierto, is by Mario Irarrázabal, who has created several of these partially buried hands across Chile. They all carry that same idea—human presence emerging from, or being shaped by, the landscape.

And then there’s what remains of the old pier. Once a working dock tied to the wool and livestock trade, ships came and went carrying Patagonia’s exports out to the world. Today, only the wooden posts remain, rising out of the water like a memory.

JAXON MEETS PHOTOGRAPHER CHRIS JORDAN

While picking up last-minute supplies, we ducked into a photography gallery that caught my eye. Finding ourselves captivated by the detail in the prints. The owner, Chris Jordan is a well-known American photographer, best known for his haunting images of albatross chicks filled with plastic. His work feels less like documentation and more like a quiet confrontation, transforming overwhelming environmental realities into powerful visual images that make the scale of it all feel real and immediate.

noticed Jaxon’s interest and immediately connected with him.

“Come,” he said, “I’ll tell you all my secrets.”

What followed was nearly an hour of genuine generosity—advice, insight, encouragement. Jaxon soaked it all up. When we finally left, it wasn’t just with inspiration, but with a gift: a stunning black-and-white puma print. Jaxon was buzzing. He later sent Chris a thank-you email along with some of his own wildlife shots—and got a reply offering praise, further help, even a Zoom call. It was one of those unexpected travel moments that sticks.

Next stop….Torres del Paine National Park