Our original plan was to travel on to Torres del Paine National Park after the Perito Moreno Glacier.
But we were slowly running out of time.
The route via Torres del Paine to Puerto Natale and Punta Arenas would certainly have been worthwhile but would have taken two weeks longer than the alternative via Rio Gallegos directly to Tierra del Fuego.
That was our destination, the end of the world, Fin del Mundo.
To get there, we first had to cross from the Andes to the Atlantic coast and then continue south across the Strait of Magellan.
We had only ever read about this in historical adventure novels. As we waited there for our ferry, it was a moving moment for both of us.
The crossing of the Strait of Magellan itself was just another ferry ride, but we still had to pinch ourselves to realize that we were now crossing the Strait of Magellan for real. It was stunning.
And then we were there. Tierra del Fuego, so named by Ferdinand Magellan because he noticed the many campfires of the indigenous people.
Our journey was slowly approaching its southernmost point.
FRANK KLAUS
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