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08/21/2018
Limoamani
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Limoamani
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Bathing day in Tierra del Fuego
That scent in Tierra del Fuego? Grey-green cold.
And when he steps freshly shaved out of the wooden hut that serves as a "bathroom" for us campers, I hardly recognize him. The blond strands frame his hearty laughter in a wet and scrubby way. A hunch of aftershave reaches me. This is strange here, also we 'young people' on the trek don't smell like Oldscool oakmoss... and HERE and at HIM I would have expected either only curd soap or something never seen before. Patagonia in a bottle, maybe. A concentrate from the immense nature and the incredible moment.
I'm as happy as Bolle when he sits down to me at the rough wooden table as if he were a matter of course. My kerosene stove is a little off the beaten track and makes a lot of noise. I boil water for a tea whose name I don't even understand: "Uña de gato". But he grins knowing.
And no, it's not aftershave. And it's not him either, who comes across here so herb-fruity, freshly perfumed and also a little bit herbaceous. A few steps further a young blond tractor, with still sparse beard 'smells' like an evergreen men's scent...
He is currently trying to make it to three Scandinavian tractor beauties, which he does surprisingly well. Maybe it's the scent, maybe it's the spaghetti to which he invites....
PS: I don't understand the name of the fragrance. The scent doesn't fit here (OK, maybe ask the three beautiful backpack blondes) and it doesn't smell like the unreal landscape here either...
And when he steps freshly shaved out of the wooden hut that serves as a "bathroom" for us campers, I hardly recognize him. The blond strands frame his hearty laughter in a wet and scrubby way. A hunch of aftershave reaches me. This is strange here, also we 'young people' on the trek don't smell like Oldscool oakmoss... and HERE and at HIM I would have expected either only curd soap or something never seen before. Patagonia in a bottle, maybe. A concentrate from the immense nature and the incredible moment.
I'm as happy as Bolle when he sits down to me at the rough wooden table as if he were a matter of course. My kerosene stove is a little off the beaten track and makes a lot of noise. I boil water for a tea whose name I don't even understand: "Uña de gato". But he grins knowing.
And no, it's not aftershave. And it's not him either, who comes across here so herb-fruity, freshly perfumed and also a little bit herbaceous. A few steps further a young blond tractor, with still sparse beard 'smells' like an evergreen men's scent...
He is currently trying to make it to three Scandinavian tractor beauties, which he does surprisingly well. Maybe it's the scent, maybe it's the spaghetti to which he invites....
PS: I don't understand the name of the fragrance. The scent doesn't fit here (OK, maybe ask the three beautiful backpack blondes) and it doesn't smell like the unreal landscape here either...
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