Cincuenta y ocho.

Penguins have been caught. Details later.

Cincuenta y siete.

Sleepy squatty penguins are living near Puerto Madryn - one more long-way journey by fucking bus. Photos are ok, but penguins are not! The real kids will be in the next episode - bloody fight for the Nixon, corpses and islands war sorrowful legacy. C ya.

Cincuenta y seis.

Next two days we spent afloat. There were numerous fiords and one brave captain outside the cabin, I haven't been in right mood to take pictures, shame on me. Coyahique is a capital of Aysen Region - wild Chilean West! Indeed, cowboys and blue mountains make this place look like the start of a big adventure. There were no any large towns to the Chilean south of Coyahique, but they should be there. Wood heating at the hostel room (self-catering heating, I mean). End of the world approached and began to bite arses.

Cincuenta y cinco.

Puerto Mont - Ancud - Castro - Puerto Quellon. The first one is a just silly modern city, the most interesting thing that happened on the island was evacuation from the coast near Ancud. Because tsunami was going to kick Chilean asses and take their names that days, government decided to save souls of electors by alarming televised speeches like: "take your wife, kiss your carpet, fire up your car and get out of this place as fast as you could!". So, they took us along to the refuge in hills. Funny incident. Ancud on its own seems like the twin brother of Twin Peaks. Other places looks the same. Gloomy churches, cheap wood houses, foolish museums - supermarkets are still like shiny stars in places like these. We loaded up into the boat and came out to the sea.