After our death-dying adventure we said goodbye to Bariloche this morning and flew another two hours south to El Calafate, along the Chilean border. While not the end of the world, it certainly feels as though we are closing in on the tip of South America. Established as a small shelter for wool traders, the town takes its name from the thorny calafate shrub, which seems to thrive here in the austerity of southern Patagonia. The Tehuelche Indians made it through the extreme winters by using the bush as firewood. It also produces a small, sweet berry similar to our blueberry. According to an old Indian proverb, “He who tastes calafate, shall return.” Needless to say, we took one look at this view and then went in search of a calafate bush.
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