ruffle some feathers

Magdalena Island is a 50-minute ride in a Zodiac boat in pretty rough seas. 

It's a natural monument, which means the Magellanic penguins are protected from natural predators like dogs. 

And also that they are unafraid of humans because there are thousands of them and only one or two boats a time.

Why did the penguin cross the road?

Some of them are curious about us.

Others prefer to sing.

Solos and duets.

La la la la la la!

Penguin chicks hatched 3 weeks ago, and many are guarding nests.

Here's a parent with a chick.

Penguins can live 20 years or longer. They are very attached to their mates.

They have a lot of character.

Some are more sociable.

They have the humans trained too.

A cute couple.

A richer view of the fauna.

Hanging around

Don't they have lovely feathers?

The only other inhabitants of Magdalena Island are seagulls. 

When penguins lie down, they look a little like seals.

10,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire...

That's enough!

Just hanging around

Single penguins without nesting responsibilities

This bunch was busy squawking and fighting. "Don't mess with me!" "Yeah!"

"Blah blah blah!"

Others were more solitary.

A different chick, out in the sunlight.

Time to call it a day.

****

One exciting footnote is the island I spotted flying in on Sunday was in fact Magdalena Island. The house in the middle is the lighthouse.

sands point

After a blissful night's sleep (in a bed), I enjoyed a delicious home-cooked breakfast with the other guests. At one table, 7 people from 7 countries (Germany, Canada, Australia, Britain, France, and Chile). A veritable UN. 

The penguin tours don't run on Mondays, except one boat and they were full. So I decided to climb a hill and explore town. Punta Arenas means sands point.

It's quite lovely. Weather was brisk—mid 40s! I was glad I brought my pink puffy down jacket and wished I had gloves.

Compulsory reminder that we're at the bottom of the world.

Okay, maybe it was a good thing I didn't go out on the sea today.  In in a little zodiac.

This charming kiosko houses tourist information. The man inside made it clear I needed more time in Patagonia.

The town is graced with great 19th century architecture and ornamentation.

Most museums in town are also closed on Mondays. But I did head over to the elaborate cemetario, built at the end of the 19th century,                                                                    

The bushes are shaped into tall topiaries. This section is called the bells.

The history of Punta Arenas includes immigrants from many nationalities: Poles, Croats, Portuguese, Italians, and especially Germans. I loved the decorations. Some artificial plants, some real. A few overgrown.

This was the best one, if a little irreverent. Wouldn't you like to be remembered with colorful spinning toys?

***

Today's vocabulary word is estrecho which means strait.

land of fire

I made it! 

After 3 flights and more than 30 hours of travel, from rain in San Francisco through snow in Toronto and blistering heat in Santiago, I find myself in Tierra del Fuego—land of fire.

The plane had all these silly map views. You could rotate them 360º like in a video game—something you ordinarily never do with a map. So you get nonsensical perspectives like this:

Here's Punta Arenas at the very bottom of South America, the farther south I have been so far. On the Strait of Magellan. It's just one really long, really rough boat ride to the Falklands or the South Pole.

They even have a beer—an artisanal beer, natch—named for Ernest Shackleton.

And yes, there are penguins here.  Pinguinos, to be exact.

Not sure what this guy was doing in Toronto airport last night. Welcoming me on a grand Patagonian adventure.