Two specialities of Tierra del Fuego (TdF to aficionados) are King Crab and Black Hake. Can one O.D. on crab? It certainly helps you sleep. Or maybe it was the Chilean bubbly. Bags still at large, so dried last night’s washing with the hairdryer and off to hire a car – with some difficulty, but eventual success. The TdF national park is wild, pristine and £2 to get in, so we drove carefully. There is a weeny train – ‘El Tren del Fin del Mundo’, strangely enough, which is a well-situated version of the Bosworth Battlefield (ex-Shackerstone) Railway. Ah – Marketing is all! Or is it Location x 3? This one was built by convicts despatched to colonise the area claimed by Peron, following the British example of Australia 200 years previously. Many died, but a few escaped. Where to, for God’s sake? It’s kitsch, but does a mean Dulce de Leche and coconut pie. We then drove east out to the first lake over passes at a diminutive 300 metres. Pshaw! No headaches! At Paso Garibaldi, one small lake and a stonking great big one (Escondido and Fagnaro respectively) could be seen, but as we had 150k limit on the car, and were getting peckish, we returned, with a diversion to Shrine Alley. This is a bit of the old road, now a ‘layby’ full of some 40 shrines to obscure Catholic (and indeterminable other) saints. Sadly, all the glass doors had been smashed, but devotees determinedly placed candles and cling film in appropriate places to maintain dignity. Santa Rita (the odoriferous one) has the grandest, and all was enhanced by the addition of a poly tunnel selling candles, flowers and Sprite, and providing a chemi-loo. Other traffic is the usual pan-American stuff with lots of Jap jalopies held together with parcel tape. In lieu of headlights, hazard flashers regularly serve well. We got back in time for a shower and – joy of joys – a message saying our bags had arrived on the continent. We celebrated with more King Crab and bubbly. Around 11, the sun sets and the Christmas tree lights up – for the 4 hours of darkness. Weird….