Going north and still confused about what that means; warmer weather, deserts and different dialects. Nigel caught up with me a few km before the ferry, in a car, wet and happy to get there in time. No adventure without me he said, having turned back after 80km of miserty, and now we’re here in Puerto Montt together, the ugliest city I’ve ever seen. We stay in a room so impossibly small that I wonder if they didn’t put the wall up after they put the bed in. Falling asleep to the sound of rain on tin roofs and someone’s in the room next door/in the same room with some Hawaii board between coughs.