PATAGONIA, Day 6

Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego: Day 6, 28 Feb

In which I almost milk a cow, the rope breaks as we ford the river and the Magellan Straits ferry is delayed and delayed and delayed, and we learn about the earthquake death toll

Inez is in the shed milking the first cow when I arrive. She is having to fight with the calf for access to the cow's udder. Every now and again the calf gives a big lunge with its head to try to dislodge her grip.

The second cow is worse. It's mood clearly as black as its hide, as soon as Inez tries to get a strap around its neck to bring it into the shed it immediately shies away, moos angrily and then emits a stream of shit. This is followed by a veritable waterfall of pee. Inez sidesteps with the grace of a tango dancer and grabs the cow by the tail. A twist of the tail turns the cow and she gets the leather lariat around its neck and drags it into the shed. Then she has to strap its hind legs together "because this one is inclined to kick". Clearly no place for an amateur milker.

After breakfast Inez drives behind us as we head for the border, bringing the tow rope we will need to cross the Bella Vista ford.

The border policeman who processes our papers looks like he has had a very rough night with the bottle, and our friendly kissing customs officer is nowhere to be seem. Eventually he emerges, clearly straight from his bed into which he must have tumbled after sharing a bottle or two with the policeman.

We drive down to the river's edge. Here John and the customs man attach Inez's rope to our car and the customs officer's truck. V, Vero and I get into the truck, to lessen the load in our car as John starts to drive across. Did I mention the wind is so strong we can hardly open the car door?

Off we go into the water and up the other bank. Then we look back, the rope has snapped and the Renault with John at the wheel has stopped exactly in the middle of the river. This is the stuff of an Indiana Jones movie, which is only spoiled by John starting the engine and driving out of the river and up the bank beside us! Well rewarded for his failed efforts the customs man takes the rope back to Inez and we are in Chile.

Four hours of non-stop driving along unsealed roads to the discordant music of stones pinging off the bottom of the car and we reach Porvenir, where the only ferry of the day is supposed to takes us across the Magellan Straits for the second time. Having driven madcap around Bahia Inutil (the fabulously named Useless Bay), we arrive in plenty of time for the 4pm ferry. Whew!

Then it turns out there is no 4pm ferry. There is a 6pm ferry or is it 7pm and will it arrive at all because of the high wind (did I mention the wind before)? As is usual in remote places, information is at a premium and rarely precise.

Just where we have stopped there is a run-down and dilapidated shack glorying in the name of "Restaurant La Bahia". This turns out to be our salvation. The cheerful gold toothed woman running it offers us beer and then a choice of fish or meat. We choose the King Crab which turns out to be delicious and far better than the far more expensive King Crab we had two nights earlier in Ushuaia.

Time drags, and drags until finally it is confirmed that the ferry has left from Punta Arenas on the other side and is on its way. Eventually it hoves into sight at about 6pm. Then the bad news, the sailing will be delayed until 9pm in the hope that the weather will get better (yes, its that wind again). Most of the waiting cars and vans drive off. We wait.

Eventually we do get on board and the big blue ferry sails for Punta Arenas, two and a half hours away across a very choppy Magellan Straits. Wisely V puts on her iPod and falls asleep, Vero goes on deck to resist the dangers of internal upheaval and John and I watch non-stop reports on television of the earthquake disaster and discover that over 700 Chileans have been killed.

That puts our problems into perspective

Footnote for lovers of the BBC Shipping forecast: We are staying at the Hotel Finis Terrae