03/23/04

បោះពុម្ពផ្សាយ: 20.03.2023

I soak up some sun on the promenade and have a bland veggie burger for breakfast in the mall. Back on the promenade, sitting on a bench with coffee, an old, brightly dressed woman joins me. After some small talk, she asks for money. Unfortunately, I don't have change in my pocket like usual, only in my fanny pack - but what could go wrong. I give her a 1000 bill (a bit more than a euro). She thanks me and wants to predict the future as a sign of gratitude. But she needs "papel papel" (paper) for that. I rummage through my fanny pack for a piece of paper, and in the meantime, she quickly snatches three bills from my pocket with her wrinkled hands. I try to argue at first, which of course is pointless. Shit. She walks away with a smug, mostly toothless grin to her gypsy clan, visibly satisfied with her loot (about 60-70 €). I let the gangster granny go and return to the hostel to get my backpack; my flight is leaving soon.

After several rings, no one answers and I don't have a key either. What a day. I call the host, who luckily shows up after 20 minutes.

I sit next to an older couple from San Francisco on the plane, who find everything I've been doing in the volunteering project "fantastic" and "amazing".

Puerto Natales scores points with its beautiful evening mountain panorama on the beach promenade, many photogenic birds, and the absence of criminal gypsy grandmas.

In the supermarket, I stock up on supplies and buy a pot for self-catering in Torres del Paine National Park. My roommate Taylor is also from California and returns from a one-month sailing trip.

In the evening, there are shrimp burgers at German prices.

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