We wake up to a very cold morning in Punta Arenas. We had hoped that some shops would be open but it’s Sunday so there will be no shopping for us. Rex and Jonathan are leaving early for their long trip back home. Fortunately I found an ATM last night (and two “thank you” cards) so we have nice tips for our “guys.” Both Rex and Jonathan truly went above and beyond the call of duty in making this trip memorable and photograph-filled. I just wish we had left Scott in the desert on the first day–then the trip would have been perfect! HA! We take a very cold walk down to the shore and try to see Tierra del Fuego. Maybe we catch sight of it in the very far distance. Lunch is hamburgers at a local hangout. Clearly we’re not at McDonalds. The beef, says the waitress, is freshly ground. It has more of a strong taste then we are used to but it is very good. Why don’t they have French fries with their hamburgers?! And we enjoy a local beer. There’s some scrambling to pay the bill. We are all trying to get rid of our Chilean pesos so there is a mixture of pesos and $US. But finally we pull together enough for the meal and a tip. (Later, in Buenos Aires, I realize that we have squirreled away a forgotten wad of Chilean pesos that could have been used for our share of the meal!!) Seven of us head off to the airport: Karen, Bill, Mari Ann, Ben, Howard and me plus that goofball, Scott. We will all take the same flight back to Santiago but then our paths will diverge. When we depart the plane in Santiago, the three couples kiss and hug and vow to stay in touch. I am just able to stretch my hand out to Scott to wish him a good flight home. That’s the best I can do–he is an incredibly self-centered man and, at best, he caused all of us to waste time for his personal benefit and, at worst, he nearly wrecked everyone’s’ long-awaited and expensive trip to Patagonia. That’s enough said about that jerk. Howard and I must find our way to the international terminal and it’s really confusing. Just as it was on the first day we arrived in Santiago, the taxi drivers, even though we say we do not need their services, ask us if they can help us. And we get pointed in the right direction and are eventually are off to Buenos Aires, Argentina.