El Chalten – Refugio – Rio Santa Cruz – El Calafate – AGVP abandoned station – La Esperanza – Cerro Castillo – Mirador Lago Amarga – Puerto Natales – Refugio – Punta Arenas – Refugio – Rio Grande – Tolhuin – Ushuaia
14 cycling days | 11 resting days | 1322 kilometers | 7.470 meters elevation gain
After surviving maybe one of the most difficult border crossings in the world, where we had to walk through a dense forest for hours, dragging our bikes along, crossing many little streams and be lucky enough for two different boats to take us across two lakes we make it back to Argentina to the nice, little hippy town of El Chaltèn. And when I say “we” I mean I’m still sharing the road with my two Italian friends Francesco and Giovanni.
When we leave El Chaltèn I think we spend more time looking back than in front of us: the massive characteristic Fitz Roy and his pointy companion peaks are waving us farewell with a grand display. What a sight! We are lucky to have picked up a raging tailwind which literally blows us to our next stop.
There are times that my gear ratio isn’t even enough for speeds that sometimes go as fast as 37 kilometers per hour. We make it to the refugio that we already had in mind for staying the night. There’s this little cabin on the cross way of the roads 23 & 40 and it can be used by anybody as a shelter. Not only is the cabin clean inside, it also has benches, protects us from the crazy Patagonian winds, has huge glass windows and… WiFi! Whut? You heard me correctly, WiFi, in the middle of nowhere. It’s supposed to be for stranded people alongside the road, but we happily use it to update our Strava and to send messages to friends. Through the large windows we see a beautiful sunset, some curious grazing guanacos and the most beautiful starry sky from our perfect little hut for the night.






We wake up to another blue sky. And still there, after all those kilometers of yesterday, we can see the stunningly white peaks of the Cordillera Chaltèn in the distance. With the remarkable peak of Fitz Roy sticking out, like a king on its throne. Around us only steppe.
Another sunny, relatively flat day on asphalt in front of us. It really feels like we have our challenges behind us now with ultimately the difficult hike-a-bike border crossing, the gravel and the rain from the past weeks. About thousand kilometers of asphalt left to Ushuaia. It scares me. I don’t want to reach Ushuaia because it would mean the end of all of this. On the other hand, I do want to reach my goal and finish my dream. So many mixed feelings are developing these days.
Cycling in the steppe here feels like being back in Bolivia, no trees, just yellow grass everywhere. We see guanacos, flamingos and rheas (an emu kind of bird), but we’re too spoiled already so we don’t make pictures of them. Vultures are waiting on fences along the road to wait for roadkill that they can eat.
We reach a spot where there was supposed to be a camping libre, but we find it with the gate closed. We already did 90km today and there’s nothing left in the legs so we decide to lift the bikes and ourselves over the fence and go for it anyway. The milky way in the night once again is amazing, but personally it could have been like 20 degrees warmer, we are around freezing temperatures once again and the night only just begon.
Since my sleeping bag is not sufficient enough for these conditions my sleeping situation has had some improvements along the way and looks like this right now:
- I sleep on top of a foam mat and an inflatable mat (to increase insulation, most of the cold comes from the ground).
- I sleep inside my sleeping bag (2-20°C) and a self-made fleece liner.
- I’m wearing merino socks, long underwear, the ski pants I bought in Peru, a long-sleeved thermo shirt, a thermo sweater and a fleece vest and I have a buff and a warm beanie on.
This successfully protects me from the cold at night.








We wake up and find our tents and water bottles frozen. Thank god there is another day of blue skies and a sun that will heat us up from a cold night and that will dry our tents. It’s only a short way to El Calafate. When we reach the city we still haven’t found any affordable accommodation yet. But we have some leads. We met a very enthusiastic lady named Mariana in the refugio two days ago that has some contacts here. She brings us into contact with Aníbal, a 82-year old single that still drives his bike around town. He has three little beds in his attic where we may sleep, we pay him five thousand Argentinian peso’s (€5) per night, which is peanuts compared to other prices in this touristy town. We install ourselves and cook together.
I have the feeling Aníbal is having fun with his three new roommates. He is super sweet, we may do our laundry with his machine, he drives us around town looking for spare parts for our bikes and we use his tools to do some bike maintenance. I guess his kitchen has never been used this much in his life, because like always the Italians go all-in when they have access to a kitchen. We cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. And with “we”, I mean the Italians. I just do the groceries and pay my share and ask if I can help (“No, that’s okay man”, “Okay, let me know if I can do something).
One day we visit the Perito Moreno glacier with Flor, another contact we had in El Calafate. She is super nice and funny and has a tremendous knowledge for everything nature-wise. She is a trekking guide here. But today is her day off and she is so sweet to take us in her car to the glacier. When I see the first glimpse of the blue ice I lose my mind. It’s incredibly beautiful. All day big parts of ice break off and fall into the water. Every time we hear a big crash we try to spot the place on the glacier where the spectacle is happening. Big chunks of ice fall in the water, it makes a sound you cannot imagine. We stroll around the park to get different viewpoints of the glacier and head back home.
During our first to last night in El Calafate Wasi and Yan arrive in town. We overtook them in El Chalten when they were on a multi-day hike and it’s so great to see them again. We make plans to leave the day after tomorrow with all five of us. Me and my four biggest friends of the last months of cycling. It couldn’t have been more perfect. And you know what else? We’re going to spend my birthday somewhere in the middle of nowhere together. No matter where we are, my biggest birthday gift will already be the fact that I’m with them.
The next day we have a nice BBQ with a big group of people. The most tender Argentinian meat sizzles on the grill, drinks flow freely and everybody is getting to know new people. So all is going well until one stupid Argentinian guy borrows Gio’s bike and gives it back broken. But he doesn’t tell us he broke it, he tries to disguise it and hopes we don’t notice. But we find out anyway that the derailleur hanger completely broke off. What the hell?! We tell him he’s an asshole but at the end of the day Gio’s bike is suddenly completely disfunctional. So the plan to set off with the five of us tomorrow suddenly hangs by a thread. The problem is that Wasi has a flight to catch in a few days and he doesn’t have time to hang around anymore. That also puts me suddenly in a position in which I have to choose between two group of friends: will I jump teams and join Yan and Wasi tomorrow morning or will I wait with my Italian friends. I decide to go with Yan and Wasi, but we also decide to give Gio some time in the morning to maybe still fix his bike and agree to only depart around 3PM.
The next day Gio gets up early and runs around town to see if he can find an aluminum welder to weld his broken derailleur hanger together. He finds one, but the guy first has to finish other projects which puts him in the waiting seat. So with a heavy heart I say goodbye to Aníbal and the Italians, but in the back of my head I already know that they’re going to catch up with us. So after 3PM we start cycling and at the end of the day we reach a nice abandoned station that has a sheltered shed that protects us from the furious winds. It also has electricity and WiFi (again?!). Woop woop! Soon later music blares through the speakers. When I connect to the WiFi I receive great news. A short message from the Italians: “bike is fixed and we are on our way!“. I call them and give our location which is received with much enthusiasm. They’ll have to cycle in the dark though.
Around 10PM they’re still not here. We do some calculations and come to the conclusion that something must’ve gone wrong. Damn it. We prepare for bed. And just when I zip up my sleeping bag I hear voices. There they are, they made it after all! We get out of our sleeping bags and drink mate and exchange stories.
Than we go to bed again, this time with 5 sleeping pads cozily squeezed against each other. It’s such a great feeling to lay side by side with five friends, sleeping in the open air, somewhere in the middle of nowhere..








The next day we set out with five. The biggest squad I’ve cycled with on this trip. The first 5 kilometers are going up and just when we reach the top we suddenly hear a loud “Fuck! No!” from the back. Wasis rear wheel hub breaks. Again. He already had this problem at the end of the Carretera Austral and had to hike with his bike all the way to El Chaltèn where he found a guy that could fix it for him. But now it has snapped again. He is devastated and quickly throws in the towel, “that’s it for me guys, I’ll hitch a ride and see you in Puerto Natales I guess..“. But in my head there’s always solutions. I remember seeing a video on the internet from a guy with exactly the same problem and how they fixed it. So I keep morale high by telling everybody that we can fix this and that we just need a bunch of cable ties or hose clamps. So everybody starts collecting as much of them as we can find in our bags and start strapping tens of them from his biggest sprocket of his cassette to his spokes, basically making it a fixed-gear bike.
It works. We couldn’t be happier and shout it out. There’s only minor problems: he cannot exert too much force, he cannot stop pedaling and he has to throw his legs away from his always rotating pedals in fast downhills. We put him in the back of our five-man-train where he suffers from as little headwind as possible and manage to cycle another 100km through the pampas guided by hundreds of guanacos. In La Esperanza we warm up in a gas station. It’s the day before my birthday and the boys are already treating me with nice food that they buy in the gas station. The Italians try to arrange a place for us inside where we can sleep, but we have to settle for a wind-protected area outside the gas station where we can pitch our tents. Good enough. .
Together we cook on our various stoves and the boys buy beer for me to already start celebrating my birthday.
A birthday I’ll never forget , that’s one thing that’s for sure. To start off, I’ve never woken up camping behind a gas station on my birthday. The morning is grey and it’s hard to leave the warm and cozy gas station. We decide we want to try to cycle through the Torres Del Paine national park but we also come to the conclusion that for Wasi to make his flight there’s too much ground to cover. So we decide to do some hitchhiking today.
We are lucky because a Russian couple can take two of us and not much later a big open truck picks up me and the Italians. We are sitting next to our bikes in the open back of the truck. It starts off quite fun, but when it starts to rain we find ourselves nearly freezing. When we get out of the truck at the intersection of the road going to Chile, the cold wind and rain slaps us in the face. We quickly put on our rain clothes, but it’s already too late, we are soaking wet. We seek shelter with the five of us in a tube that goes under the road. We feel miserably cold but we can still laugh about it. A short ride over gravel brings us to the Argentinian border, where we make some sandwiches and where the sweet ladies of immigration put a little heater next to us to warm up a bit. Another short ride brings us to Villa Cerro Castillo and the Chilean immigration. In the little village we find the municipal camping that is closed but the door is open. So we put the tents under a little roof. The boys have a last birthday present for me: I am the lucky one to roll out my sleeping bag in a tiny broom closet, sheltered from the ice cold wind.









A furious Patagonian ice cold headwind is making the next day extra hard. All day we sit in each others’ wheels and form a peloton to be most efficient battling this wind. We end the day at a beautiful mirador where we have a good lookout on the famous peaks of the Torres Del Paine national park and the sun setting behind them. A bus guiding tourists gifts us five beers. We pitch two tents for the night in the little shelter at the mirador. We sleep with three in one tent to get as warm as possible. It’s freezing out here.
The plan for the next day is to sneak into the park, for us thirty US dollars for an entrance fee is just way beyond our budget. Other people have encouraged us by saying that this is well possible. We cycle towards the entrance and hope that it is small, desolated and we can cycle by without hassle. But the entrance is big, there’s tourists and rangers everywhere. Ofcourse we get caught. And they’re not happy with our attempt to cycle by without paying. Any talking we do to try to get their pity and to leave us into the park is neglected. It’s either paying or leaving. So we leave. Fifty kilometers back to where we started yesterday and then another seventy to Puerto Natales. The wind is brutal once again. We arrive in the dark, the cold got into our bones. But we’re in fucking high spirits! We made it!
We celebrate the arrival to this city and Wasi’s last day of cycling. It’s an absolute miracle that his bike made it 300 kilometers after being converted into a fixie. It’s Saturday night and even though today was hard, we take a quick shower and head into the city. For my birthday my family has gifted me a dinner for me and my friends and we have a nice pizza and wine for it.
The next days are pretty chill. We got like a private room with many bunk beds in the hostel we’re staying at.
It’s super cozy: we have our own kitchen and bathroom and are a bit secluded from the rest of the hostel, but that doesn’t matter because we’re with five friends. We cook and eat a lot.
The next day I book my ticket to Madrid. I feel sad because it marks the end of this amazing trip. But I fly to Madrid and not to Amsterdam giving me another month of cycling. I do this for three reasons.
- Tickets are way cheaper flying to Spain.
- I feel like I’m not done cycling yet, want to do some more.
- Because flying to Amsterdam would be a too abrupt ending of all of this. I feel like cycling back home from Spain is a more gradual comeback.
On the 9th of May I will fly from Punta Arenas via Santiago to Madrid.
During our stay in Puerto Natales soon its time for Wasi to leave and catch his flight back home. We all walk with him and wave him goodbye at the bus station. For sure I’ll see him soon. And the next day the Italians and Yan also leave. I’ve decided to stay behind to do some more writing. Also, I just have this feeling that I have to do this last stretch of the trip alone. It will give me time to reminisce, bring back some memories, all the things I’ve learned, everything that’s happened. Time to contemplate and think about the future. To put everything in perspective.
After the first days of being alone in Puerto Natales I already feel lonely. But still, a voice inside of me says that I made the right decision. After two days extra in Puerto Natales I get ready for my last solo stretch to the end of the world.









The last stretch to Ushuaia, let’s go! Only seven hundred kilometers are left through the freezing pampas. I leave the cozy warm hostel and I notice it’s cold right away. I put on my gloves and start riding. The first 10 kilometers with a very strong side wind. It lingers me into the shoulder of the road multiple times. But I know from studying the map for today that after this the road will turn to the right and I will have it in my favor. And that’s exactly what happens. I’m flying. It rains for the second half of today which makes everything a little bit more wet and cold. I can only take short breaks because when I do I start shivering badly. Camping in this wind and rain and cold is just undoable so I find a refugio on the map.
The necessity of reaching this wind shelter means that I will have to cycle a whopping 128 kilometer today. So it’s not surprising that the last 5 kilometers my legs give up on me. The refugio is super nice, it’s a bit smelly from the mess people made in the bathroom, but it has a table, some benches and two bunk beds. I eat my pasta, chill a bit and then go to bed early. My feet are freezing, even inside. I hear the wind pounding into the refuge, I’m so glad I found this place.
Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing here. Pampas only. The most special thing I saw today were some nice birds and some flamingos from far away. The furious wind is still pounding diagonally from the back so I can do another 118 kilometers without much problems. I really feel bad for cyclists that have to battle this wind going north. The cold and cutting wind makes for most of the hardship. At the end of the day I reach the big milestone of 30.000 kilometers. Wow! That’s three quarters of the circumference of the earth. I think about all the countries, all the people, all the good and the bad days. And I start thinking about reaching Ushuaia in a couple of days. Tears pearl up on the insides of my eyes already when I think about it.
When I reach the big city of Punta Arenas I buy chocolate and beer and check into the same hotel as Yan, Ollie and Emmy to toast with them on my 30.000km milestone. I enjoy a warm meal, shower and bed. Yan is flying from the airport here tomorrow and is preparing his bike box. I say goodbye to him before I go to bed.
I wake up from my alarm in the morning. Alarm? Yep, I have to take the ferry at 9AM and it’s a short bike ride to get to the terminal. In rush hour I zip through the midst of two lines of stationary cars. I’m right on time. A big ferry takes us up and over the strait of Magallan onto the island of Tierra del Fuego. Just like the rest of the passengers I take a seat inside, but a few times I conquer the cold outside to see if I can spot any dolphins or anything. Nothing. Maybe it’s even to cold for dolphins at this time of year. Just before we reach the other end of the strait I go into the toilet to put on my cycling clothes. I cycle to the first big village of Porvenir, do some groceries and then set off into the nothing again.
The road is much more fun than the last days, with some hills to climb and lots of gravel. But it also costs me more energy. The gravel seems to stick to my tires, slowing me down and also: where’s the wind? I accounted for a furious west wind carrying me to the east, but not a breath of wind is present. What a shame.
I see lots of foxes and guanacos. The guanacos frightened for me like always, startled they run away from me and jump over the nearest barbed wires towards safety. But jumping over these barbed wires is not easy, judged by the many carcasses that I’ve seen draped over the barbed wires from failed attempts. So every time a group of guanacos starts running away from me and start to jump over the wires I hold my breath.
After a roadside lunch and a small talk with a local fisherman (Q: “Do you live all alone here?“, A:”Better to have no company than bad company“) I come to the conclusion that I still have 60 kilometers to go and that I’m running out of daylight already. I figure that with some luck I only have to cycle one hour in the dark. It makes for a hasty afternoon, since I know that when the sun is down it will be even colder.
When I take a small break a car passes me, I wave at them friendly and I see them stopping ahead and driving back towards me. They ask if I need something, if I’m okay. We have a nice talk and they offer me to drink some mate with them. The hot beverage warms up my body. But most of the delay I have today is when I notice I have a slowly deflating tire. No wonder today felt so hard. And just when the sun is setting and I try to pump up my tire once again I break my pump. Another car stops, two plumbers from Porvenir try to fix my pump with glue. With a lot of difficulties we manage to squeeze in some extra air into my tube. Maybe just enough for the last 30 kilometers to the next refugio. “Ojala“.
The golden hour is followed up by dusk and then it’s pitch dark. I put on my head light. The cold freezes my face and I suddenly know how Patricia Paay would feel after another Botox treatment. Even though it’s a bit scary, cycling in the dark has its magic. I see two eyes glowing up in the grass on the side of the road and with all my heart I pray it’s not a puma that will mistake me for a guanaco. I reach the refuge with less than one bar of air in my rear tube. But, dammit, I made it. When I open the door of the refugio I almost get a heart attack: I see two guanaco skeletons rotting away. Quickly I close the door again. Apparently that was the old refugio and the new refugio is the building next to it and luckily doesn’t have any skeletons inside. I put on some dry clothes, eat, boil water and put the hot water in my water bag to put on my freezing feet. Later in the night there’s a camper stopping for the night next to the refugio. It’s nice to have some fellow travellers next to me. We talk a bit and you know what’s the best news of today? I ask them if, by any chance, they have a bicycle pump and they have one! What are the chances?






Most of the night I have cold feet and when I get outside in the morning I know why: it’s been freezing hard. Most of the water puddles I cannot even break by stamping on them, but when I do I count 5-7 centimeters. I make some hot water to put in my water bag to warm up my toes again. I walk towards an encampment where I’ve seen light yesterday and I’m wondering if they have water. When I enter the premises I see working people. I talk to them and they are super nice. A minute later I’m sitting in the chef’s wagon behind a warm meal and a hot coffee. Is this heaven!?
It’s very, very hard to leave the warmth of the wagon and change it for the freezing temperatures outside, but duty calls! I shoot into the coldest and wettest cycling clothes and have to start pedaling fast just to heat up my engine. A very “tranquilo” day follows since the next town is too far away and I don’t feel like camping another night in these temperatures. So I have already decided to do some small hitch-hiking to be able to make it to Rio Grande today. For the fourth or fifth time today I enter Argentina where I meet some very friendly Brazilian motor cyclists. They want pictures with me and give me some candy bars.
After the border I start cycling again but the lazy thoughts win today. Because whether I hitch-hike 30 or 60 kilometers today actually doesn’t really matter, does it? So I stop, park my bike alongside the road and put my thumb in the air and provide nice smiles to the few cars that travel in my direction. And to my surprise a car stops very soon. He tells me his car is quite full, but we try to squeeze in my bike anyway and we succeed. David is a great talking partner and brings me to Rio Grande where I check into the cheapest hotel of the city for a warm night.
A slow start follows the next day. I need food, but in the morning I notice all the shops are closed. I ask around and it turns out that it’s the first of May, “Day of the Worker“, a holiday. One of the guys that stops to help me appears to be a bike traveler as well and he invites me for a coffee in the only establishment that’s open for drinks and food today: the gas station. That’s also the place where eventually I buy my food for the ride today. It will be the two most expensive sandwiches I ever bought, but at least they will carry me to the next village. I arrive in the dark in Tolhuin. It’s cold and there’s snow everywhere around me. We’re really entering the snowy south of Patagonia now. Luckily the “panaderia” in town is not closed today. Bakery La Union might be the most famous Casa Ciclista of all of South America and, yes, also for me there’s a free bed and a hot shower when I ask for it behind the counter. I’m super grateful to have such beautiful people and places in this world.
It’s only 104 kilometers left to Ushuaia now, which I’m planning to do in one day. Shit is getting real. But since I’m only flying the 9th and today is the first of May I decide I can squeeze out another rest day here in this beautiful village to be emotionally completely ready before I embark on my last ride into Ushuaia the day after tomorrow.
On my rest day I receive so many heart-warming messages. Lots of friends and family wishing me good luck and success for my last ride to complete my dream. I get emotional many times. It’s good to know that for my surroundings I’m “out of sight but not out of mind”.
I relax, walk to the lake and do nothing. I prepare for tomorrow.




I leave a note in the guestbook of the Casa Ciclista.
Dear reader,
Today is my last day on the bike towards Ushuaia: “Que emoción!”. Ushuaia. The city that I’ve been traveling towards for two years. Two years! Every day a little bit more south. Conquering mountains, deserts, head winds, but also loneliness, hunger, illnesses and heartbreak. With only one goal in my mind: Ushuaia. And tomorrow will be the day. It’s hard to grasp.
It’s been such a wonderful journey. I’ve seen the most amazing landscapes, animals and nature. But most of all I’ve seen amazing people. They let me in their houses, fed me, shared their stories, showed me their smiles, honked and waved at me. Simply: made me at home. At home in their world. At home in the entire world. I guess the world is my home now.
I’ve seen so many people during my journey that will never get the chance to do something like this. Trapped in their small village taking care of the family, the vegetables and their cows or goats. That’s why I’m so incredibly grateful that I had the chance to do this. To quit my job and leave my house for this life-changing experience. Thank you world, for being so kind. Thank you for showing me your beauty.
With a warm heart,
Marijn van de Wijdeven
I put an alarm at 7AM, because I just want to get the most out of today. At 8:30AM I’ve had breakfast, there is a coffee in my thermos, I’m warmly dressed and ready for my “last day on the bike“. The final stretch to arrive at the dream that’s called Ushuaia. But I have to wait until 9AM because its still dark outside.
Then I set off. I can’t believe it. I’m actually arriving to Ushuaia today. A hundred and five kilometers to think and let the emotions come. At least that’s what you would say, right? But unless yesterday, this morning the emotions on the bike stay away. I’m just enjoying the ride.
It starts raining. Half-way there is a little cafe and I decide to go in for a coffee. Normally I would never spend my money on such luxury things, but of course today is different. There is a warm stove where I can warm my hands and feet.
The people inside are just as warm as the stove. I tell my story. I tell about the fact that I’ve been cycling south for two years with one thing in mind: the city in Southern Argentina with the dreamy name of Ushuaia. And that today I’ll reach this city.
I don’t know what happens, but the few people inside can sense that I’m very emotional from the inside and they hug me, look me in the eyes and congratulate me. I thank them and pay for my coffee. Outside I start crying softly. Beautiful people touching my heart.
I continue my trip. It gets colder and the rain turns into snow. I climb the Paso Garibaldi, the last paso that I’ll have to conquer. It’s not as difficult as expected and soon I reach the top. It’s too bad the weather is so bad because I can imagine it can be beautiful here on a clear day. I cycle in a white world, there is snow everywhere around me. Thirty kilometers to go. Twenty kilometers to go. Ten kilometers to go. And then I reach the city gates of Ushuaia. I made it. I fucking did it. I thank all the millions of cars that passed me the last two years and that all have seen me and have steered their cars around me. I cycle into the city and make pictures with anything that says “Ushuaia“. I started in the snow in Canada and end in the cold and snow today. The circle is completed.
I drink a beer on the street, my way of celebrating. I throw my hands in the air. People around me think there’s a crazy guy in their street but I don’t care.
Soon after this small celebration it’s business as usual. I’ve talked to my friend Fernanda with whom I cycled in central America for a month, she is from Ushuaia and she told me I could stay a couple of days with her mom. So I buy a bottle of red wine and knock on her door. She is super sweet, her name Miriam, just like my mom’s name. I can occupy a room and stay and chill for a couple of days.
I book a bus ticket to Punta Arenas for the 8th. I arrange a bike box, that I get for free in return for a small video for the bikeshops’ social media. I walk Draco, Miriam’s dog. I cook for her and she cooks for me. I go on a few walks out of town into the snow. On my last night I meet the Italians again, who have just cycled into Ushuaia. Miriam and Fernanda’s sister buy empanadas for me on my last night in Ushuaia. So incredibly sweet.
And then it’s time to leave the Patagonian winter for the Spanish summer. I am looking forward to the warmth and the sun on my face. It’s quite the undertaking to get to Madrid, but after 52 hours, two nights with very little sleep, two buses, one ferry and two planes I arrive in sunny Madrid.
The dream is finished. Time to reminisce. Time to cycle back home and balance everything out and give everything a place.








Marijn, wat schitterend om -na je thuiskomst- je laatste lootjes voor Ushuaia te lezen. Diep respect voor je doorzettingsvermogen, vindingrijkheid en makkelijke manier van contact leggen! We spreken je snel hoop ik. Groet Theo
Als ik dit laatste verhaal op weg naar Ushuaia van jou lees weet ik dat je de koude hebt overleefd en je na een geweldig ontvangst op ons woonerf weer veilig en warm onder ons dak slaapt.
Met een vracht aan prachtige herinneringen probeer je hier weer te acclimatiseren, de ene dag lukt het beter dan de andere dag
Hopelijk kun je je draai vinden en vind je uiteindelijk een manier om je bestaan hier op te bouwen en ook hier gelukkig te zijn