I walked on, following the map, another ten or twelve blocks, where I arrived at the cemetery. Yes, that's right, the cemetery - it's one of Punta Arenas's main attractions. Trust me!
It doesn't look like much from outside
but inside that long, blank wall is a serene space that resembles an admittedly eccentric neighborhood
more than a graveyard. (The neighbors are just very quiet, I guess.)
I walked up and down the paths of the pretty little necropolis
enjoying the absurd and beautiful mausolea
as well as the landscaping, which featured some tormented topiary cypresses:
They are so odd looking that I can't decide what they remind me of - upside down ice cream cones? Karst mountains like the ones we saw in China? Dunce caps?
This cross with an anchor at its base
marks the grave of one Captain Adolfo Andresen,
a whaling captain who was the first to bring the Chilean flag to Antarctica. He was accompanied on his travels by a lady named Wilhelmine Schroeder, who was the first woman to live in the Antarctic. The signage doesn't specify the relationship between these two intrepid explorers, but I like to think they were great and good friends.
Once I was done enjoying the city of the dead, I walked back to where I'd left Daddy, passing some typically understated Chilean political discourse on the way:
We returned to the ship and returned to our grueling routine of resting, before dining at Las Ramblas, the little tapas restaurant on Deck 12. I could happily make a meal of appetizers anytime, so I was delighted. We ate with Pat and Tony, and stayed together trading stories until 9 PM, when they deserted us to snag front-row seats for tonight's show. At that point, we chose to retire, since we have a very early day tomorrow: We finally get to see glaciers!
1 comment:
Reminds me of New Orleans cemeteries. Very cool.
Post a Comment