Dead dogs and pisco sour

After a false start due to the wrong kind of snow, we said our goodbyes again and escaped the pull of planet rothera. Tom and I spent yesterday wandering around Punta smelling things and looking at trees. Having said that, there was surprisingly little culture shock - it all seemed pretty normal pretty quickly. The pidgin spanish is coming along well - ordering beer, wine and pisco sours are all no problem now although things are a bit more pot luck when it comes to ordering dinner. In fact, probably the most difficult thing to adjust to after living in a place where we're all interdependant is being looked after in a hotel - we keep trying to tidy up after ourselves which confuses the staff at the hotel. That and the hours of the nightlife - we're looking for nightclubs when most people are still eating dinner.







Flying to Stanley tomorrow on a commercial flight which will be a bit of a change after the Dash7 - I'll have to remember not to go up to the cabin to chat to the pilots while we're in the air. And i'd better take the flares out of my hand luggage.


Then it's off to James Ross Island. This was taken from the campsite that last year's field party used.