Here is Chapter Seven of Common Sense and Whiskey, the book. We'll publish each chapter over the course of the year (Track down previous chapters here). You can order the entire book direct from EarthPhotos Publishing, or at Amazon.com. Photos and additional commentary are available at A Common Sense and Whiskey Companion. And here's the Chile Gallery at EarthPhotos.com.
A band of cold rain swept over the Hotel Cabo de Hornos, churning the Strait of Magellan dirty gray. Punta Arenas’s “oldest and grandest” hotel was, well, it was just a hotel, all of its walls painted a determined shade of mustard. A bare minimum of staff kept the Cabo de Hornos open and we all watched cold squalls spray over the strait.
The Pan American highway stops at Puerto Montt, 816 miles of Chilean coastline to the north, so there are no roads here. There is little tourism. You have to be damned determined to get here.
Feliz Navidad. Punta Arenas was closed tight, for we came in on Christmas night.
•••••
I think I snared the last car for rent in southern Chile.
I bought coffee and stopped on the plaza to rub the shiny toe of a statue of Magellan, then I found Hertz.
“Buenos dias. You have a car?”
“No.”
A happy smile.
“If I go to aeropuerto?”
“No.”
I looked across the street. “Budget?”
This “no” betrayed a smug certainty, and at the same time a creeping regret that he wasn’t helping. He allowed that I could always “ask the question” across the street at Budget and furthermore, the man down the street at Santander might have uno auto. He wouldn’t open until ten and it was only 9:30. Still, that was something, so I bid him and another man who was washing cars adios.
At Budget they had big smiles but no cars.
“For today!?” He acted amazed.
He phoned around, but nothing. At least I had “asked the question.”
•••••
It’s hard to imagine that the nearly Antarctic tip of South America came to be known as Tierra del Fuego, or land of fire. It’s likewise hard to imagine being so far from home – so isolated – as Ferdinand Magellan and his crew were, sailing through appalling weather where nobody they’d ever heard of had been, five centuries ago. Especially when they spotted huge bonfires onshore.