At the bar in Puerto Williams

I walked over to the restaurant/bar I was at at lunch just before 7. I can't find another one, though one probably exists. I saw what looked like a house with 'Bar' painted on it, it was shut but it may open later. There is also a part of the town I have not penetrated to yet which may contain who knows what. My guide, while apparently no longer correct about El Pinguino pub, claims that a disco exists somewhere in the town. I followed the 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush' philosophy, especially as time was pressing, and came here.

On the walk over here (1.83km as the crow flies) from the hotel I encountered a number of cows in the road. (I might observe there are what I, with my inexperienced eye, judge to be horse and cow shit scattered liberally on the pavements here. The humble dog turd appears notably absent, or maybe it has been squashed out of recognition by the time my eye lights upon it.) Naturally they ignored me docilely, but I am more accustomed to cow in the form of steak, or at least living and safely on the other side of a fence, so I was a tiny bit nervous. One had horns, although to be frank they are a mere courtesy detail on an animal which I guess weighs something around half a tonne upwards.

I also observed an Alsatian drinking peacefully from a bowl in the middle of a large garden with absolutely nothing to stop it coming into the street and tearing my throat out. It was peaceful and at that moment disturbed me less than the cows did, but it augmented my visions of walking back, racing the sunset, with animals' territorial instincts enhanced by the twilight. I nearly turned back and decided to forgo the drink in town for the easier if soulless and overpriced comforts of the hotel bar, but pressed bravely on like the hell of a chap I am.

It is quiet as the grave in here, there is one other customer. But it's early on Tuesday night and I guess if this is anything like the rest of Chile people will be out late, if they are out.

As sunset is in about 45 minutes I just enquired at the bar in broken but fortunately intelligible Spanish about the possibility of a taxi home if I stayed later. The guy had to call someone else to find out, but apparently I am OK until 11pm. I don't plan to be here that late anyway.

I brought a (rather feeble, but better than nothing) torch out with me, along with the GPS, so if getting a taxi turns out to be impossible I am not totally fucked, just terrified. If I had a gun or a syringe and a big bottlel of ammonia as well I could face the walk back with a stiff upper lip, but lacking those I hope it isn't necessary.

I went and hung around in the (empty, but rather nice) library/lounge area of the hotel when I left my room after making the last post, as the programme director had told me he would be around there. I saw no trace of him or any office where he might be lurking. I passed the time reading the first ten or so chapters of Savage by Nick Hazlewood, about the four Tierra del Fuegans and specifically Jemmy Button, taken to the UK by Captain FitzRoy back in 1830ish. Very interesting, if I don't find time or occasion to finish it here I will have to buy a copy. He also seems to strike a nice balance between the rather excessively politically correct take on this which my guide book has and condoning FitzRoy's actions.

I think tomorrow I may inquire at reception about hiring a bike, although that seems somehow such an odd thing to ask that my nerve may fail me and I will just skip it. If that is not possible and doesn't provoke an interview with the programme director, I will go for a walk. There is some sort of trail here, I have walked past the start of it already (it's next to a slightly tacky shrine to the Virgin in a field) and if my guide can be trusted, although the trail as a whole is something like a 6 day walk, the first bit takes a couple of hours, which is probably doable. More importantly, it's probably survivable if torrential rain and winds come on, I should be able to drag my emaciated, hypothermia-wracked body that kind of distance before darkness falls and survive with the loss of only a few minor extremities

That assumes I can get up early enough. Ignoring the day I overslept, which doesn't quite count, tomorrow is the first day in a while I haven't got to be up by some definite and earlyish (earlier than I used to routinely get up when I was at work) time, so I may be tempted to take advantage. But even getting up at midday is probably OK.