The lobby of the Hotel Almasur is in chaos. The passengers of a cruise ship bound for Antarctica have been diverted here, unable to board their vessel anchored off Antarctica. Due to high winds their flight to King George Island off the coast of Antarctica has been cancelled. some passengers are visibly angry, others resigned. The cruise is for six days, with the flight to King George Island designed to avoid the two day trip across the Drake Passage and its notoriously rough seas. Now their cruise is at least a day short, possibly more.

Outside the hotel Doug and I are accosted by a vagrant wearing a large backpack. He has been kicked out of the house by his girlfriend. He lost his left eye in a fight in Santiago, and digs through his backpack to find and show us his prosthetic eye, which he explains he had them make to look bloodshot because he always smokes weed. He wants to be our friend. We slowly edge back towards the hotel, then duck inside with a smile and a wave to our new friend. Only a few of the cruise ship passengers remain in the lobby, some wearing their bright red parkas with the cruise ship’s logo.

Our dinner is not great. King crab salad is good, but our fish is watery and flavorless. Melissa has mussels the size of salad plates, but they are too salty. Back at the hotel things are quiet. That night a young cat, homeless and hungry howls outside our window.

This place feels like the end of the world.