This is a quaint little town, sitting as it does on the edge of the continent. We call ourselves the southernmost city in the world. It's a great tourism slogan. People flock from all ends of the earth to get a stamp at the post office and buy t-shirts and stuffed penguins at one of the millions of souvenir shops that litter the streets. That is only during the summer though. For nine months of the year, this town is the only sign of life in a frozen, desolate wasteland, whose only redeeming factors are the harsh beauty of the landscape and the quiet warmth of its people.
|Ushuaia at sunset|
It is December now, and tourist season approaches. The cruise ships have not yet arrived, and the town remains relatively quiet and peaceful. There is a party tonight at the restaurant. One of the famous Argentine singers is coming from Buenos Aires to sing tangos. We love to dance tangos in this town. During the relentless winters, it's all we can do to keep our spirits up.