Perito Moreno Glacier…>>

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A hut and nothing else. That's all that is left on the border of Cerro Castillo. The wind keeps me uneasy but it's tolerable. I’m short on fuel, but I know I will be ok just around the corner, in Tapi Aike, right after the asphalt begins, and with Argentinian prices, three times lower. I'm used to the dimension of villages like this. Besides the gas station, there is a restaurant on the other side of the road and that's it for commercial establishments. I count five or six more one-story buildings, not enough to disturb the view: an enormous plain that extends all the way to the mountains, always present on the horizon. It is still early, I kept a good pace. I could use a good breakfast to warm me up. I try the gas station. There is a counter, two tables and some chairs, a few rotten shelves with some dishes that have seen better days. There is no bread, but it looks like they can get me some milk and coffee. I'm in no hurry, so I leave the refuelling for later. I also have to check the air in the tires.    I warm my hands on the steamy cup and, through the dirty window, see an old car pulling in. The clerk steps outside, says a few words to the driver, points to the road and the car drives away. Hmm… this doesn't look good. The clerk is a young man with a round face, dark skin, wide eyes, and, considering he is not very pleasant, I’m guessing he might be from Chile. He wears a 'Petrobras' dirty green jacket and a leather sling bag. He returns to the counter making the door bell ring. There is no gas? No, only tomorrow. And where ...
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