Homeward bound

I caught bus 86 to the airport and spent the rest of my pesos on a sandwich and a drink. We were a little late departing. A few hours into the flight, in the small hours of the morning, we had a refueling stop at Rio Gallegos, Patagonia. It was a small airport with only 2 gates. There was a plaque there commemorating the 50th anniversary of the first commercial flight between Rio Gallegos and Buenos Aires on 2/4/1930. The French aviator and writer Antoine de Saint-Exupéry was one of the pioneers in the opening up of routes to Patagonia, and his experiences formed the basis of his novel Night Flight. This was part of the mystique that had formed my impression of Patagonia before I visited.

It was cold in the airport, and even colder on the tarmac; the temperature was single digit and there was a wind chill. A short blackout occurred while we were waiting. But we finally entered the warmth of the plane and took off. And then it was really goodbye to South America. I was not to return for another 12 years.

I had been on the road for over two months. While writing this blog, 15 years after, it was amazing how a mere few words in the diary could evoke an entire incident. I learnt things that I didn't know then in the process of reconstructing my story. And it was amazing how many of the establishments I patronised are still running. Even the mundane expenditure log, which I used to keep myself to budget, gave crucial clues to what I did on a particular day.

I had seen unforgettable landscapes and marvellous sights. But most of all I remember the wonderful people I met. I sometimes wonder what became of them. Some would have gone on to have a career and a family. Some might have retired from work. Some sadly may not be with us anymore. I can only wish that they were happy, not all the time, that's too much to ask, but some of the time.

As it was a trans-polar flight, I was curious what they would do about the on-screen display of the flight path since the Mercator projection cannot represent the poles. As expected they switched to polar projection. The flight reached the 70S lattitude, within 2500 km of the south pole. There was no turbulence. The flight was all in sunshine because it was the southern spring. As I was crossing the International Date Line going west, November 15th 1997 was lost to me. We had a change of planes at Auckland and a few hours after that I was home.