We had to get up really early to catch the 7.30 bus from El Calafate to El Chaltén, which is a town in the middle of the Fitzroy NP.

The bus trip was very very boring. Patagonia is basically a whole lot of nothing and looking at clumps of grass blowing in the breeze is just as fascinating as watching paint dry.

We had a toilet stop at a place in the middle of this nothingness, and they had a domesticated guanaco, which tried to jump on me, pushed Kirsty out of the way and tried to pilfer Mike's pockets. All to great hilarity of the people who were not being molested...

El Chaltén is all gravel roads, windswept and scruffy, merely there to cater for the tourists. We got some goodies from the supermarket and set off on a walk, but the weather turned and at the mirador (viewpoint) there wasn't actually any view to see because of the clouds and the rain. So we turned back, to be blown home by a howling wind. Even the Goretex-clad hardcore walkers turned back.

We went to have dinner at Pangaea, where a confused waitress got all the orders wrong. I'm sure there isn't one night when our huge group of 21 actually all got what they ordered. Dave actually started eating someone else's dinner, which was a 'cow minus the horns and legs' to quote Duncan. It covered the entire plate. I had a cartwheel pizza which could have fed a whole Italian town.

Phil was the only one who actually managed to finish his pizza. After that I had indigestion pending and decided to get into a warm and cozy bed.