Plan A was that we’d be on the ship today, underway on Saturday. We’re on Plan D, or E or F now, and the farthest I’ve gotten was two days ago when Adina met me on the gangway. She handed me a couple packs of COVID tests and said there was a new plan. For now they’re keeping the outgoing and incoming teams separate. Outgoing team is doing what they can without us, and we’re hanging out at the hotel, taking solo walks around town, and eating a lot of take-out.

Not that there’s much to complain about. My room, basic though it may be, is comfortable and has a view of the water – the promenade and the strait right out my window, and the pier, with our erstwhile ride, shining in the morning sun. Wifi is mostly adequate, and I’ve been getting some good coding done. I have to pity the cargo and marine tech folks, though – everything they work with is out there on the back deck of the Gould, tantalizingly close, but unreachable. One of our MTs confessed that he’d already gone through about half the candy he’d brought down for the cruise.

The walks have been good. We turned the corner from summer into fall here, but summers in PA top out at what passes for a brisk November day back home. The puffy jackets and wool beanies never really make it into the closet.

So I’ve been bundling up just a little when I set out on foot. Rarely with a real destination – PA isn’t really a tourist town with Sights To See. A couple of days ago it was out to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry Plaza, an arbitrary bit of green space in the median of Avenue Bulnes. But it took me past the cemetery, with its fantastically ornate mausoleums, and the old hippodrome. And the monuments you stumble across – there’s just so much outdoor sculpture here, sometimes with a plaque explaining what it is, sometimes not. The Monument to the Sheepdog, the Monument to Petroleum, to The Croatian Immigrants. And by and large (and they do tend to be large), they’re gorgeous, evocative pieces of art.

The Chilenos I pass more often than not meet my eyes and offer a welcoming smile – I’m clearly not from here. But somehow I feel that, pressed for a word to describe me, more would settle on “guest” than “tourist.” I certainly feel cared for.

And the dogs. I’ve written about the dogs of Punta Arenas before. They’re still here, wandering, following, waiting for a stritch or a throw of the ball that they bring and drop at your feet, right out there on the promenade. And the…I don’t remember horses. But apparently that’s a thing here, too. Horses, just wandering unattended. No one else seemed surprised, and the horses seemed to know where they were going, so…

Today? We’ve all done our nose swabs (yes, I’m still negative) and are waiting for word on whether there’s any new plan. In the meantime, I’m going to wander up the hill in the other direction, toward Cerro de la Cruz. A few years back I followed that road up into the hills – about four miles further there’s a national park, and beyond that a little ski area. I made it as far as the park, but chose the better part of valor and promised I’d take a taxi to the ski area the next time I was in town. Ah, men make plans and the gods laugh.

Today I’m just going to aim for Cerro. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll get on the ship, and I can really get to work, while my candy and Netflix stash are still reasonably intact.