The end of the world is nigh.
When we finally had our passports returned we found they had an entrance stamp for Chile but no exit. I guess we stopped just sufficiently long enough to get signed in so that we could then enter Argentina without having come directly from the Falklands. That made us laugh. Technically we had been in Chile. We had travelled down the narrow channel that was the Magellan Strait, with Chile on both sides of us, but we had still never set foot on Chile soil. What a joke all this nationalistic silliness is.
Through the night we picked our way through the intricate passages around the islands and through into the Pacific Ocean. Pacific means calm but I cannot say we noticed any great difference. The weather was a little unsettled.
It was still dark when we ducked back in to the fjord that led to Argentinian Tierra Del Feugo and…
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