It is
September here…
(Last week
I did a quick trip from the boat downtown to pick up a single item that Sven
needed - and didn’t take my camera with me - and then I was met with the sight
of every student in town, between the ages of 3 and 18, walking home from the
first day of school in their brand new school uniforms, the girls in white
shirts, grey plaid skits over grey leggings and grey knee socks, and a whole
slew of different coloured sweaters, the boys in grey flannel pants and similar
sweaters or dark blazers, depending on their age. Apparently all the schools
give out school supplies here on the first day of school which the kids take
home. The kids were laden down with very full backpacks and each one was
also carrying a large package wrapped in brown paper, their sketch book for at
home. Any one of many groups of them would have made a great photo. Sob.)
… and I
have been trying to buy a tent.
Lisa
doesn’t think I should go off hiking by myself. She has been trying to get Sven
to forbid it. Sven, fortunately, thinks I am old enough to make my own
decisions. But Lisa’s constant fretting about how dangerous it is, how cold it
will be, how heavy my pack is, how hiking isn’t a thing you ought to do on your
own, how scary it will be, how little I will have enough to eat, and so on, is
starting to get to me. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am insane. But ‘my’ boat
isn’t sailing for a month, and the best thing to do around here is go hiking, so
that is what I plan to do.
It doesn’t
help that today, the day I am leaving and taking a ferry south for three days
to Patagonia, is the first wet day here. Still safe in my cabin, half asleep
under my warm dry duvet, I wake to hear the wind howling and the rain pelting
down. (I am such a wuss. The boat is moving more than usual. I know it’s firmly
tied up. The captain left earlier this very morning, he’s going home to
Denmark, and he would not have gone without first ensuring that his boat was
going to be fine. But I still worry, ‘Are we OK?’. Man, what happens when we
get out to sea if we have a bit of wind or rain? I’m going to piss my pants
then for sure. Heck, here, in dock, I’m almost doing just that!) Also, to be
truthful, it doesn’t seem the most beautiful weather for taking the ferry
south, or, for that matter, for hiking in. Last night I checked the forecast
for Torres del Paine and it says wind and rain and snow and thunderstorms for
the whole of the next 14 days. Yay. I didn’t really know if I was up to doing
this anyway, and now, what with all of Lisa’s comments and then this weather…
AARGH. I am quite sure I wouldn’t be happy hiking, even with the best group of
friends, in terrible conditions, wet and cold and tired and no views to see
because of the clouds, let alone on my own… I will take the ferry south today
however. And will see.
Back to my
tent. Since I hadn’t envisioned hiking as part of my itinerary before I left
home I didn’t bring any hiking gear with me. And I don’t really want to rent
stuff, which is presumably top-quality but designed for the average hiker, 20
and male and buff and brawny. I want to carry as little as possible, being old
and grey and apparently too forgetful to have remembered to bring one of my
sons with me, so I have been looking for a little tiny tent. Fortunately, since
it is September, most of the stores have their camping gear marked down 70%,
unfortunately, most of what they have left is 5 or 6 person tents, fortunately,
after searching like a rat, I finally found a very nice little lightweight 1
person tent, unfortunately, it was in the one store that didn’t have a sale on.
And, sigh, it is sort of a lonely thing to do to buy a 1 person tent. I am
going to be hiking on my own here, yes, but, somehow, buying a 1 person tent
(besides being outside my budget, which is a total aside) comes with seriously
forlorn and lonesome overtones. (Who knew?) Am I, by buying this tent,
admitting on some level that I will be alone forever, that I will be hiking by
myself for the rest of my life, that I will always be single? (I hope it’s good
enough, by the way, for the lousy weather in the forecast!)
Oh no! As
I am sitting in the ferry waiting room, typing this, I kid you not, someone
comes by and comments that they don’t think my tent will be waterproof enough.
Really? Talk about adding insult to injury. I am crushed. My new expensive tiny
lightweight tent not even good enough? ‘But I can carry it,’ I point out, an
argument my tent-insulter concedes as valid, though perhaps somewhat misguided.
‘Have you seen the forecast?’, he asks. Oh no! Why, oh why, is my life never
easy?
I am no
longer anticipating enjoying the coming month. I merely want to survive it. (And
not embarrass myself or my country by doing something so stupid as to need
rescuing). Roll on Patagonia!
