A Sunday in Perito Moreno

Day 114

Actually, I didn't plan on writing today. But I don't really have much else to do. It's Sunday. We are in Perito Moreno, a town of 3000 inhabitants in the heart of Patagonia, and today could go down in history as one of the most uneventful days of our journey.

For a staggering five hours, we have been sitting in a small café at a black wooden table, of which there are plenty around us. Ours, except for another one where three children are squatting, is the only one occupied. The two boys in the Barcelona jersey and the girl next to us boredly sip their drinks through their straws and wait for some magician show that the waitress told us would happen at some point. She didn't know exactly when, and to be honest, it doesn't look like anything is happening here today. An hour ago, we tried to change cafés, but the only competition a few streets away, for inexplicable reasons, is closed today. Just like most supermarkets and the bakery. In general, Perito Moreno seems like a ghost town this Sunday afternoon. So we came back to this place, where the two waitresses greeted us with an irritated nod for the second time. The dry balance so far is two sodas, a tea, two hot chocolates, and two beef-filled empanadas. And now we're back here. It's 16:13. The children are starting to get restless and climb on the chairs. Outside, it's extremely windy.

The reason for our bleak existence today is quite simple. We are leaving Perito Moreno later towards El Calafate, but our night bus doesn't leave until this evening around 19:30. We had to check out of the accommodation at 10:00 anyway because the rooms needed to be prepared for the next guests, and since there is no common area or anything like that, and there is really nothing to do in this tiny village, we are sitting here. It's cold and windy outside, most of the few stores are closed, and we have a whole damn day to spend in this inland village in Argentina. The main reason for our stay here was mainly that the distances in Argentina are so huge that we definitely needed a stopover before El Calafate to avoid an expensive flight or a 30-hour bus ride. But we also wanted to experience what it's like in the villages somewhere in the middle of nowhere, far away from any tourists. And that's what we're doing here now.

Yesterday, we also drove a bit out into the countryside and suddenly found ourselves in a field where there was nothing but the unfathomable vastness of southern Patagonia. That had been our goal for a while. To drive a few kilometers into the landscape from Perito Moreno. Because nowhere else are you so deeply immersed in Patagonia as here, and here you can best feel this legendary land and its myth of freedom.

And then suddenly we were in the middle of nowhere. On an area from which you could see as far as your eyesight allows. It's madness. And we had our speaker with us and listened to music as loud as it could go. And we shouted. Shouted every nonsense into the world that no one except the two of us would ever hear, no matter how loud we were. And then we fell silent. A moment of silence, in which it became as quiet as I have rarely experienced. What also feels extremely strange is that there is simply nothing out there. A plain and a few bushes, occasionally a sheep skeleton or a bony skull (what do you call the skull of an animal?). No rock, no elevation, not a single living being. Just the endless expanse and two Germans who think they are experiencing an adventure, while the Argentinians on their way back to the village just stare at them with questions in their heads.

At this moment, the "magician" enters the room, who according to his poster is touring all over South America. Quite a career downturn when you consider where he is performing his show now. But it also has something beautiful about it. The children, who have increased in number in the last few minutes, are now completely captivated and their eyes widen. Their mothers exchange proud looks and the waitress smiles encouragingly at the protagonist on the small stage. There is no one outside, but here people come together. Here, the world is still in order. In Perito Moreno, the unassuming mysterious little village somewhere in Patagonia, Argentina. And now I'm curious to see what the magician has to offer.