We arrived in the capital and urban center of the Magallanes region, Punta Arenas, on a Sunday morning, an hour before Carlos Eduardo Aranha landed. The temperature, I was told, was nine degrees Celsius. However, I felt unbearably cold, despite the bright sunshine. However, I felt unbearably cold, despite the bright sunshine. Intrigued by the miserable cold, I was immediately rescued by a fellow traveler: Jairo.

     "Basílio, it's because of the strong wind. The temperature must be close to zero degrees."

     Jairo and his wife, Clara, had traveled the same route as us and we ended up becoming friends.

     It was very windy. According to Jairo, gusts of wind came down the mountains and narrow valleys of the region, forming those gales, which stretched from the Strait of Magellan to the Pacific Ocean. Jairo was a geography teacher, which is why he had an easy grasp of the local geographical features.

     Then, Regina talked about Patagonia and the wonders of Torres del Paine National Park, which, according to her, was only 360 kilometers from Punta Arenas.

     "Shotgun blast!" I declared, ironically.

     Little did I know what awaited me. I would have gladly gone to the park if I had known that my final destination would be King George Island in Antarctica. As we walked, the women in front, I commented:

     "This rapprochement of ours is providential, Jairo. Our wives are getting on very well and will be excellent shopping companions here. I hate shopping. I wouldn't be good company if I was alone with her."

     "Few men like shopping, huh? I'm one of them too. Unless you shop in a good bookstore. I could stay there for hours and hours."

     We headed back to the hotel. I couldn't wait to get to a nice room with a fireplace and warm up as quickly as possible. My abstinence from alcohol would have to be interrupted for those days, despite my cardiologist's prohibition. I'd have to pour myself a good brandy or I wouldn't be able to stand it.

     Once we had checked in, before going up to our rooms, we decided to have a coffee in the piano bar. Looking at the options available, I noticed that there was a delicious coffee, served with brandy and prepared with honey, whipped cream and mint leaves. I couldn't resist and ordered one. My companions, however, asked for creamy chocolate. I got up and went to one of the barmen, suspending my wife's order to serve the coffee without brandy, asking him to put the brandy directly into the coffee so that Regina wouldn't notice. But he didn't understand me, for a simple linguistic reason, and I failed. When the tray arrived, the coffee came in a pretty bowl, with honey at the bottom, mint leaves and whipped cream on top and a small glass with the brandy separately.

     "Basílio, what is it?"

     "Guess it's brandy. But I told him not to bring it."

     "You think you're fooling me, don't you? You asked the waiter to pour the brandy straight into the coffee. He didn't understand. I'm not stupid!"

     "Regina, it's freezing cold, I've already come to this end of the world..."

     "We can negotiate..."

     I immediately realized what she was up to. She gave a wry little smile:

     "Torres del Paine for your brandy!"

     Regina and her bargains. For the trip to Punta Arenas, the exchange was much better.

     "Really? Torres del Paine would be worth a whole bottle, wouldn't it?"

     Everyone laughed, including me, but I demanded at least one more round. With brandy!

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     Punta Arenas was really beautiful, considered by many to be the southernmost city on the planet and the scene of great historical events. I could see it from the hotel window. Very well preserved houses and buildings, some very old, dating back to the beginning of the 20th century. Founded in 1848, it had served as a prison and military garrison until 1877.

     Many palaces, buildings with classic features. It was a beautiful landscape, worthy of a painting. In the background, the Strait of Magellan, with its blue waters and, further away, lands that I thought were the famous Lands of Fire, whose great wealth was oil.

     There was a predominance of two-storey buildings, mostly made of wood. In many houses, bright contrasting colors, such as lilac walls and a green roof, or red walls with a black roof.

     "Look, Basílio. Wouldn't our house look good like this, with pink walls and a blue roof?"

     I didn't even answer. Despite the colors, Punta Arenas was also characterized by its wide, clean streets, well-kept gardens and very polite and kind people. Several monuments in public areas, showing great concern for culture and the preservation of local history.

     The place, in fact, was beautiful!