Puerto Natales. I hopped on a bus north, to the town of Puerto Natales, the traditional jumping off point for treks into Torres del Paine. En route I watched the landscape of Patagonia unfurl past the bus window. Sheep Estancias. Rheas. Off and on rain. Low wind sculpted stands of trees. In Punta Arenas I stayed in a hostel with a nice big window. And since the sun stays out late, I tossed and turned. In Puerto Natales I was shown a smallish, dark windowless room, perfect. Function > Form.
I set out and found a vegetarian cafe and had a breakfast of coffee and crêpes, followed immediately by veggie burger and a beer. It was noon and I hadn't yet eaten. Sometimes you have to accomplish a lot is a small amount of time.
Next door to this rather stylish vegetarian restaurant was a barbecued lamb place, and I watched with detached amusement as a truck pulled up and unloaded a number of freshly butchered and skinned lamb carcasses right outside of the large front windows, a palpable shudder moved among the various salad eaters in the room. Lamb sounded good but it was too early for dinner.
Natales is a small town, perched on a hill above Ultima Esperanza Sound (aka Last Hope Sound). I found myself drawn down to the waterfront.