Excerpt from Gloria
- *Disclaimer** Another entry from Gloria. This one was requested (though she doesn't know it yet) by Gessi. Its her sort of entry, but I hope you all enjoy it.
Sat 20th March
I am scribbling away in Gloria as I take my 22 (in total) trek across Patagonia in hopes that I can transcribe it later in digital form. If you are reading this people, it means I have accomplished this feat. Time is a funny thing for me here. I never seem to have enough, yet have no restrictions, limitations or demands on it. Not sure if that’s this place, or just one of the odder things of travelling.
Patagonia is itself a strange place and demands strange emotions of it. The endlessness of it. To inhale feels like you can fill your lungs with infinity, then breathing out is like puffing smoke rings into a wildfire. The scale is amazing. Like the Canadian prairies or the Mongolian Steppes, it just goes on forever. There is a fable told by the Welsh about the creation of Patagonia that geos something like this:
Once upon a time, the God of the Sun and the Moon grew bored of the world and decided to create a new land of wonder. He began first in the East and sculpted a long coast, with high cliffs and azure waters. He made beautiful stretches of beaches and populated them with fantastic animals; seals with elephant’s trunks and minature flightless birds. He then created the Western frontier. He rose immense mountains, carved them with ice, and frosted them with snow. He settled large glasslike lakes at their bases, and painted the slopes evergreen. After all this work, the god was exhausted. He decided then that he would sleep and with his dreams he would construct the middle. He slept for what seemed like eternity, and upon awaking was horrified to see that he had dreamed nothing at all, and so that was what lay in vast fields between his precious creations. Vast Nothingness. Weeping with frustration, he made a pact that all who pass through this dreamland and sleep, will have their own dreams fulfilled in return.
The Welsh got it right. The myth is apt for the place. Patagonia feels like it goes on for eternity. It makes your mind wander off into distant, mystical places. The sheer scale of the freedom is almost oppressive. Like you cradle the whole crushing weight of infinity just by being there, alone, in the emptiness. Its magical. The sun is setting now over the plains, preparing for his second job as the moon, and the fulfiller of dreams. I will be going to sleep soon on this 17 hour trek through the foreign God’s dreamland. Let’s hope for positive dreams and not a whole evening of nightmares.