the children

Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

the children walk along the street carrying a rebenque. faces smudged with track dust. clothes tight, loose, random. eyes sparking. voices calling.

where’s your horse? i ask them.

we’re looking for two of them. they are gone, they say, don’t like the life of the city.

i ask them what the horses are called.

one of the children replies, one horse doesn’t have a name... the other child says ...and the other horse, i can’t remember.

i say that’s very strange.

they crumble into giggles.

turns out one horse is called “doesn’t have a name” the other is called “i can’t remember”.

caza-incautos.

they look at me from behind long eyelashes and dirty cheeks. and laugh at me, with me, around me and up and down. clean, clear laughter. right from the belly.

then they show us the way to the hotel through the fields and wave us goodbye.

nape

i indulge my hands and let them caress the back of his neck, just below the hairline, as we walk along the streets of calafate, hunting for meat.

wild cows ahead

Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

the ferry ride is endless and the coffee still hasn't removed the remnants of our morning crank. the american rails against the guide, who repeats for the infinitesimal time that glaciers are made of compacted snow, that the colour depends on the density of the ice, that they are overspill from the icefield between the mountains, that the icebergs float with 80% of their size below the water level...

at the shore, we go off the beaten track, avoiding further repetition. he didn't believe there were wild cows until we found one, dead, bloated, legs up in the air, belly torn to display rotting innards, tongue lolling out, kingdom of flies...

i like that he doesn't look after me, he ploughs ahead through thorny bushes barely looking behind. he knows i'm there. this suits me fine...

later we have a 'double date' with other travellers. they don't turn up, but nonetheless more dead cows are surely eaten.

observation III

in the morning, reluctant to rise up and leave its comfy place in the horizon, the sun plays hide and seek behind the ring of mountains as the bus weaves its way towards chaltén

observation II

people take holidays to hang out with their mates, so in the face of incredible beauty, they sit around sipping hot cups of weak coffee, gossiping about auntie ellie's latest beau and wondering if they should send little jimmy to this school or that...

observation I

patches of snow look like cut-outs in the mountain, against the white-grey sky

meandering

coffee
dogs
flamingos
blue eyes
neruda

todo glaciares

Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

one dead cow is a shame. two dead cows is avian flu. run for the hills!

the glacier

the guide tells us the glacier is basically overspill. which doesn't really do justice to the magnificent (there really is no better word, sorry) wall of ice that stands solid in front of me. sitting on the bottom of a bottomless lake. ocassionally letting go of those chunks of ice that having watched the tourists come and go, have developed a feverish wish to go travelling down the icebergs canal.

at the end of the world (almost)

i look to my left, look to my right, look behind me, search under the bed. no-one has followed me here.

how curious.

if i was a pessimist i would conclude that, in spite of what some have said about me, i am not a woman men will follow to the end of the world.

however, i am an optimist, so taking all the evidence in my possession into account, either i shall have to wait to pronounce judgement until i do indeed get to the end of the world (that'd be ushuaia, 600km south from here) or conclude that, actually, all the single men i know are a bunch of senseless sods.

mmhmmmm. that must be it!

welcome to el calafate!

sunset, from a plane

a single star shines above a cloudy desert. inappropriate thoughts wrapped around inappropriate people accompany me on the journey. distractions from. an. empty. heart.