Nemo

I arrive after the longest bus ride of my life, 24 hours, which I spend, mercifully, almost completely on my own. For the last couple of hours a mother and child sit next to me, and the child started screaming. The mother had forewarned me about ruido. Astutely the steward cues up the next DVD, Finding Nemo. "Nemo!" the child squeals. "Que suerte," coos the mother, "Nemo! Que suerte!"

In Puerto Madryn, I find my hostel through some afternoon sprinkles. I go out in search of food. Towards the pier, a rainbow is superimposed against an orange sky. I’m officially in Patagonia and the prices go up accordingly. I can’t find a restaurant meal for under 30 pesos. I find a restaurant specializing in forty varieties of pizza and it is among the tastiest pies I’ve had in my life.