you know that your hostel is not the best-appointed when item 7 on the Shower Survival Guide is "don't look too closely at the showers"
today is spent mostly in transit back to el calafate. nothing much to report other than that several folks from Refugio Chileno made the same journey, so many of us are sticking together for an unprecedented third day after two bus rides and a border crossing. It's almost cozy to have this multinational nomadic family.
argentines are famously concerned with their personal appearance. morning television is packed with infomercials for a variety of dodgy dietary supplements, teas, girdles, home-fitness equipment, meal plans, and other low-effort miracle slimming products. someone mentions that buenos aires has the highest rate of bulemia in the world, however you measure that. it's kind of depressing.
i may have figured out the reason for so many dutch people travelling in argentina. Really, this tiny underwater nation of 16 million people is sending out more representatives than germany, france, or the US. My theory: the crown prince of the netherlands is dating an argentinian woman. Argentina makes the news in some capacity on a weekly basis there. You can't buy that kind of awareness. I suspect that the dutch just think about this country more than other european countries. I'll let you know if I see any south carolinians inspired by mark sanford.
Bus time is a time to catch up on podcasts. Notable: Radiolab broadcast a story about "helicopter boy", a kid who made a harness out of duct tape and jumped out of a tree with a cardboard propeller. The kid says that he can't understand his mother's lectures, but loves radiolab so Jad and Robert sound-produce a lecture on "always think things through to the end". It is beautiful.
Also, I listen to the Moth podcast. It is a storytelling series started in new york. The content is good, but very NY-centric. The stories all come from self-centered neurotics in publishing, fashion, or c-level acting gigs. Now that the series has expanded, the first detroit story is a gritty story of love, resourcefulness, and rust-belt reality. It's a breath of fresh air.
No photos worth taking today, so the image above is another one from Torres del Paine. It´s from Day 3, looking east on the Valles Frances. Incidentally, this posting is so late because the hostel computers in Ushuaia are so antiquated that they don't even have USB ports.
Missing home, missing dr_sunflare, missing kaya, missing my friends, missing having my own fridge.