How do you take a picture of the wind? Do you find trees blowing? Electric cables straining at their moorings? People bracing themselves? My hair ironed straight by a force that tried to rip it out by the roots? Pocked marks on my legs from where my capri pants left skin exposed to pebbles and tiny slivers of glass lifted airborne by the gales?

Rio Gallegos is one windy southern outpost. Any lint I had hiding between the fibers of my clothes has been swept out. Any remaining illusions I had of taking out a map furtively to see where I was, dashed. And you know how eyelashes are supposed to keep dust out of your eyes? I might need to send mine out for servicing.

I also got to see a heck of a southern hemisphere sunset on the way here. From the plane, flying into Buenos Aires, several hours late, thank you very much MickeyMouse Airlines.