Dynargh dhe'n Blogofrob

Tuesday 8th February 2011

Unfortunately, in the 12 hours after scaling the glacier I developed a mean-spirited little fever, that left me weak and sweaty for a day or so. I felt somehow like an early missionary, or 19th Century poet, travelling to the uttermost end of the Earth, only to be struck down with an illness, leaving George to stand vigil at my bedside and mop my sweaty brow. But I didnĀ“t fulfil the Romantic ideal by dying, and the following day my temperature had righted itslf and I was left with a streaming cold. Although perhaps not the ideal treatment, George and I went for a 3 hour trek in the local National Park, where all the fauna was so tame, it felt like being in an Argentine version of Mary Poppins (not quite bluebirds resting on my shoulder, but hares and falcons nonchalantly wandering around).

We worked up enough of an appetite to go to a cheap but good parilla restaurant which bears remark only because, although it was all you could eat, a sign warned diners that if they wasted food an additional $12 would be added to the bill. In this climate of fear I just about forced down a salad, a sausage and a hunk of steak, marvelling at the localsĀ“ ability to consume slab after slab of meat.

133 - posted at 19:53:28
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