South America & Falklands - part fifteen

The sailing ships and hulks (click on the picture) survive from early Punta Arenas. Long before the Panama Canal, the town was a key stopover for ships sailing to, and from, the 1848 California gold rush. Wool from Patagonian sheep farms meant Punta Arenas continued to proper from the 1880s on.

Chile's southernmost city is on the Strait of Magellan. At the main square, Magellan tries not to think about cruise ship passengers flying kites (see previous posting), overeating and having too many gin-and-tonics in historic waters.

A voluptuous mermaid (better than a gin-and-tonic) swoons at Magellan's achievement. More to the point, an Indian glumly considers the European's arrival. Neither seems adequately dressed for the climate.

Summer - their equivalent of August - so note clothing.

Gusts so fierce, at times I find it difficult to stay upright.

I include these next pictures, not just for a passerby leaning into the wind, but the reminder of Chile's time of torture and regime-sanctioned murder.

Punta Arenas' Cementerio Municipal has some superb tombs.

In a far corner, I stumble on an unexpected monument. It's in memory of German Admiral Graf Spee who died, with a lot of his shipmates, in a December 1914 battle with the British.

Topped by an imperial eagle, the plaque refers in German to the Battle of the Falklands and, tactfully in Spanish, to the Malvinas.

I've fallen in love with the most adorable little Chilean called Maria. She's a bit old (1910) and slightly squiffy-eyed, but with loads of character. I want to take her back to Toronto, but think she's happier here.

Maria's superbly maintained by Magallanes University's Institute of Patagonia.

At the El Tempo disco, they're praying for the wind to stop.