Ellen and I are spending four days on a boat travelling up the coast of Chile, through fjords, bays, channels and open sea. They call the boat a ferry, but that's just a pretty word to describe what it really is, a freighter. A thousand kilometres into our fifteen hundred kilometre journey we travel up an inland channel to a small port town. There's a change of boats. The second boat is far more freighter than ferry. Two containers of cattle moo at us as we walk from our cabin, past the cargo, to the upper decks.

 
Cow smells aside, I've never been more relaxed. Hour after hour, day after day, it's one snow peaked mountain after the other. At Iguazu Falls I was mesmerized in a different way. There it was fear that kept my eyes glued to the spectacle. Here the fascination is wonder, at the seemingly endless wall of jagged mountain.

 
Suddenly I hear shouting. My trance is broken. A group of dolphins are playing tag with the bow. The dolphins quickly lose interest and I'm glad. The people are quiet again and I have my mountains back.