A Painter's Musings on the Visual World

As the 10 of us watch the world unfold from the comfort of a remote place in the Patagonian Andes, it might appear we are detached from it. We are not. Our daily posts of paintings and glacial river hikes are a wonderful hand we have been dealt for a brief time but we know what lies ahead. And despite the serenity around us, there is not one who does not wish they could be with their loved ones at home. We have a plan to exit this paradise and return to our families because not only is that where we need to be, it is where we belong. We have three more days to complete symptom-free for this to work.

Jane Chapin, 40 minute quick study of Fitz Roy, late afternoon

The plan involves a 7 hour drive across the barren southern breadth of this country, passing government checkpoints where we will need to show quarantine health certificates, credentials and permits. The entire country is on lockdown and foreigners trying to get home are one of the few exceptions to the ban on transit of any kind. In between those checkpoints there will be no waypoints or rest stops. Half of the journey will be in darkness with one of our car crew assigned to look out for herds of guanacos crossing the road. Apparently they are pretty common at night. 

Our quarantine is surrounded by the 47 glaciers that make up Argentina's Glacier National Park, the third largest ice field in the world

There is one gas station we are not sure will be open at a town called Esperanza (Hope) so we will carry extra gas cans donated to us by our hosts here at El Pilar. They are also issuing us plastic liter bottles rigged with a hole strategically cut for the nozzle that will funnel the gas into the car rather than blown back in our faces. The Patagonian winds are a challenge to more than just artist easels. Esperanza is not really a town – in fact I believe it is just a gas station with a name. “Hope”fully it also has a bathroom... or some trees.

By this time we will be in daylight and it will be clear that we have left the beautiful glacial valleys far behind and are on a flat straight road to our destination.

Today the peaks of FitzRoy had fresh snow on them - yet another challenge to my struggle with mountains

We have filled out every form, pursued every contact and taken every precaution to have a happy ending. The US Embassy has been in touch with us so that they can issue permits for us to cross into Rio Gallegos, a port city that is the gateway to the Chilean border and Tierra del Fuego. Because of its strategic location it is heavily guarded and we will have to make sure they admit every person in our three little clown cars. But there will be no clowning or selfies with military police when we cross. 

The airport, thankfully on the near side of town, is where we will return our rental cars 6 days late to the wrong airport and find out if it may have been cheaper to buy them. Our flight is at 1:25 PM. There is one flight per day and we are not allowed to wait in the airport, so we must make that flight.

The worst part of the trip may still be ahead as we find out if there is, in fact a flight to the US. If there is, we begin at least 24 hours on 3 airplanes through 4 airports. We will return to Clorox wipes and constant hand sanitizer as we re-enter contact with the world and feel the inevitable culture shock. We believe we have commercial flights booked but nothing is certain until we get to the airport in Buenos Aires. The idea of hanging out in a crowd waiting for a flight is a little daunting. As a precaution we filled out the embassy charter flight registration sent to us from our US contact person in Buenos Aires. We also know we are returning to places that are drastically different than we left. I plan on another quarantine when I get home. As much as I love Argentina, my husband, sofa and dogs seem a very inviting place to stay.

Jane Chapin, Windy glacier study,I found Ihave little control when gusts batter the pochade.

This group will be forever connected by this experience and we have promised ourselves a reunion. We have shared a lot of laughter, in the beginning giving each of us a Gilligan’s Island counterpart. Somehow I started off as Ginger and ended up as the Skipper. I am not quite sure how that happened but I guess I am driving the lead clown car out of here, so it fits. 

And today, we paint because there is nothing more we can do.