I'm on a huge journey.
I'm travelling the length of the Americas,
the two continents that together
form more than a quarter of Earth's land surface.
VOICEOVER: On this adventure,
I'm travelling down through South America.
We're in such a remote part of planet Earth.
It's a journey of more than 4,000 miles
through some of the world's greatest landscapes...
..encountering spectacular wildlife.
The cat is on the move.
From its iconic cities to the Andes Mountains,
it's a continent of dramatic extremes.
Down!
LOUD BANGS
Along the way, I meet the inspiring...
Yolanda!
..and the surprising people...
These guys are Mennonites.
..who make South America so extraordinary.
There's Wi-Fi here.
Nowhere else for miles around, apparently.
We do our own thing.
We're happy here, man.
SIMON GASPS
Flippin' heck!
I feel like I'm hallucinating.
It's like the largest,
most perfect ice skating rink you can possibly imagine.
This is the Salar de Uyuni -
4,000 square miles of salt flats.
I was in Southern Bolivia,
starting this leg of my South American journey
in one of the most remarkable landscapes on Earth.
It's the rainy season at the moment,
but when it's dry, these salt flats are so white
and so huge it's said you can see them from the moon.
Here in the tropics, the rainy season is roughly
November to April.
There's just a few inches of salty water,
but that creates what looks like a vast mirror.
This salty wilderness is one of the harshest environments imaginable,
hostile to almost all forms of life,
yet I've been told even here there are people
who have found a way to make a living.
That has to be them.
We're heading towards where we think
some of the last remaining traditional salt miners
might be working.
You can see for miles in every direction.
They're the only people working out here, that's for sure.
Como estas? Eric?
Si. Como estas?
Oh! Como estas?
It looks like you've got the whole...
You've got the whole family working.
Eric's family have been mining salt here
for three generations.
Si.
Ooh!
That's an epic bit of work, isn't it?
Look at that blade!
This is a proper...
Right.
It's got a good weight to it, hasn't it?
And, Eric, what are they used for? As a table salt or what?
And how many will you mine or harvest in a day, then?
Is it a good business?
Do you make a decent income from this?
So more than £100 a day,
but that's to provide for the entire family.
And it looks like bloody hard work.
See, he's just tied the wires together.
It's lunch break.
There's nowhere else quite like this on planet Earth.
In places, the salty crust beneath us is ten metres deep.
It's thought there are 10 billion tonnes of sodium chloride here.
That's a lot of fish and chips!
Eric said he was taking us for lunch
at a monument he and his family have built.
It's a tower of blocks which they rather poetically call
the stairway to heaven.
The stairs gift an amazing view of the salt flats,
but it's not just salt around us.
There's something much more valuable beneath the surface.
Dissolved in salty water deep beneath the lake crust,
mining companies have discovered the presence
of one of the most sought-after substances on Earth -
the lightweight metal lithium.
Lithium is the single most crucial element
in current rechargeable batteries,
for everything from smartphones to electric cars.
Do you think lithium could make Bolivia rich?
This could be one of the world's largest lithium reserves,
and lithium batteries, especially in electric cars,
are currently one of our best hopes for replacing fossil fuels
and tackling climate change.
But pumping out lithium involves an industrial process,
with concerns about the environmental impact.
Usually, I'm quite nervous about drilling and mining, of course,
but in this situation,
I really don't think we've got any choice.
The world needs lithium if we are to transition
to a new era of cleaner, greener transport.
There's been a lot of talk here about Bolivia
becoming a green energy superpower off the back of its lithium,
and the former president here said lithium will become
the new oil and Bolivia will become the new Saudi Arabia.
But bureaucracy and a lack of investment
means Bolivia hasn't got very far with its hope
of becoming a lithium superpower
and using resources to lift its people out of poverty.
Bolivia's still among the poorest countries in South America.
It's a common story on the continent.
South America's rammed with valuable natural resources.
This is weird. It's like the exit and entry ramp
for the salt flats.
The Spanish mined so much silver in Bolivia,
it funded much of their empire.
Then so much tin was found here, it was carted away in trains.
The real wealth has often been creamed off
by the elite or goes abroad and, of course,
as people chop, plant and dig great swathes of the continent,
that ruins wild places.
I travelled east from Bolivia into Brazil,
where huge areas of wilderness have been turned over to farming.
Look, you can see, stretching miles into the distance,
these enormous farms and fields.
When it comes to farming, Brazil is a global superpower.
After China, India and the United States,
it's the largest producer of food in the world.
This is mega farming.
The proponents would say, of course, it's what's needed to provide
for the billions of human beings on this planet
and now, at a time when global food supplies are not just stretched,
but at breaking point,
food from here, from this part, from this area of Brazil
is going to be more needed than ever.
It is astonishing what's happened here.
How the landscape has been utterly transformed.
How the forest and the savannah has been ripped and torn up.
This is the Brazilian state of Mato Grosso,
now Brazil's leading producer of soy beans,
corn, cotton and cattle.
We flew on to a very different world,
a massive inland river delta
which forms one the greatest areas of wilderness on Earth.
So, we're arriving now into the second incredible landscape
and ecosystem that we're visiting on this part of my journey
down through South America.
This is the largest tropical wetland on planet Earth.
This is the Pantanal.
Like so much in Brazil,
the Pantanal is on a massive scale.
It's bigger than England.
An endless maze of rivers, lakes and swamps
teeming with unique wildlife.
This is an absolute highlight
of my journey down through South America.
So often...
Just checking we've got enough runway.
It's so often overshadowed by the Amazon rainforest
just to the north, but the Pantanal actually, quietly boasts
the highest concentration of wildlife on this continent.
I'm smiling because we're somewhere spectacular
and we've landed safely.
That's all the runway we had left.
Ha!
Oh!
I met up with conservationist Colonel Angelo Rabelo.
Coronel, very nice to meet you!
Oh, nice to meet you.
Welcome to Acurizal Farm.
Colonel Rabelo is a conservation hero
who spent 40 years battling to protect the Pantanal.
He first came here as a soldier in the 1980s
and bravely fought against poachers and wildlife traffickers.
It was dangerous and deadly work.
On one mission, two of his men were killed.
He was shot in the shoulder and lost full use of his right arm.
What a landscape this is!
An enormous stork the size of a fighter jet
that's just taken off here.
And a caiman - like an allegator - just down there.
This place is home to jaguars,
to the maned wolf, to the yellow anaconda,
to bizarre anteaters,
to a snake that is so large it feeds on deer.
Hyacinth macaws!
These are incredibly rare.
All this astonishing life in the Pantanal,
and the ecosystem itself,
relies on predicable seasonal change.
So, in the rainy season, water should pour down
from the north and east.
Rivers burst their banks, creating huge swamps
with hilly islands left poking above the water.
Then, in the winter dry season, waters need to recede
so whole areas can dry out.
Plants and animals base their breeding and feeding cycles
on this endless rhythm of life.
For those who've never really heard of the Pantanal,
how would you describe it?
As I'd already seen, the enormous area surrounding the Pantanal,
which used to be forest and savannah,
has been replaced by industrial farming.
Scientists believe this profound landscape change
has had a powerful impact on the climate of the Pantanal,
possibly the continent,
and the result here, even in this water world,
is drier, more unpredictable weather
creating drought and fearsome, more frequent fires.
Oh, my! So, what happened here, Colonel?
In one fire season recently,
a third of the Pantanal's vegetation was destroyed
and more than 17 million animals are thought to have perished.
Normally, the whole mosaic of the Pantanal,
the interconnecting waterways,
would act as natural moats
containing fires and preventing them from doing too much damage.
Greenery and small bushes have quickly regrown,
but the trees, rich biodiversity, wildlife has gone.
If the droughts and fires keep coming,
great areas of the Pantanal could be lost forever.
What did it tell you?
Oh, thank you.
The Pantanal isn't empty of people.
For centuries, there have been relatively sustainable
family ranches here.
Their cattle graze on fertile grass on slightly higher ground
set among the patchwork of water.
Those farmers also rely on the predictable cycle
of the seasons in the Pantanal,
but now, they're not only facing droughts and fire but -
the irony - some areas of this huge wetland
are being ruined by too much water, by devastating flooding.
Colonel, so I gather this isn't actually the natural wetland?
What's happened here?
One of the main sources of water for the Pantanal
is the mighty Taquari River.
Over decades, the Brazilian Government encouraged
intensive farming further up the Taquari.
Farmers cleared vast areas of forest.
That caused massive soil erosion.
So much silt clogged the river, eventually it changed course
and permanently flooded an area of the Pantanal
double the size of Norfolk.
This has transformed this landscape
and people who farm here, have farmed here for generations,
many of them have been forced out.
In fading light, we searched for a patch of dry land
where one determined farming couple have stayed on.
I think we're just about to hit land.
RATTLING At that moment!
I can see there's a couple of faint lights over there,
across goodness knows what,
but I'm going to head there and hope that's where we're staying.
OX BELLOWS Oh, my goodness! Look at this!
Rivaldo! Oi!
Rivaldo! LAUGHTER
So, Rivaldo has come with an oxcart.
Come, Simon. What am I going to grab?
My host was Rivaldo,
an old-school, traditional Pantanal farmer.
THEY CHATTER
This is bonkers, isn't it? SIMON LAUGHS
I've no idea, really, where we are,
but hopefully there'll be some food and a good night's sleep,
and then a little bit more clarity in the morning.
Right, night-night for now.
Where is he taking us?
I've had a quick look around.
We're on a farm that's an island!
Rivaldo has lived here his whole life.
His father and grandfather farmed this land before him,
then suddenly the Taquari River changed course.
This was all flooded?
Most of Rivaldo's neighbours abandoned their homes
and their livelihoods - but not Rivaldo.
He came up with an incredible plan.
OK. OK.
Yes. Nicely in.
With no farm machinery to help him,
Rivaldo filled up thousands of sacks with earth and rubble.
Oh, yeah, you can see some of the dam over there!
Look, white bags!
For years, he kept piling them up,
eventually building more than 50 makeshift dams
to hold back the invading waters.
It was back-breaking work.
What did people say when you started building these dams?
Before the flood, Rivaldo's family farmed 17,000 acres of pasture.
They were wealthy.
They even had a landing strip and a small plane.
With physical graft and his system of dams,
Rivaldo's clawed back 700 acres -
space for enough sheep to provide a modest living
for him and his wife, Denise.
But it almost killed him.
A few years ago, Rivaldo was struck down with a heart condition.
Oh!
Do we think that Rivaldo's heart
maybe was rather broken by the floods?
Oh, Denise, I'm sorry!
We've made you cry.
Clearly, what you two have that has kept you going is each other.
So, the tractor here is taking us back to...
I was going to say the river, but it's more like the sea.
At the start of my little time with them,
I felt almost a bit sad for their situation,
but their love is so strong
and they're in such a staggeringly beautiful part of the planet.
I think most people would be a bit envious, eh?
Rivaldo, Denise, farewell!
The fires, floods and droughts tearing through the Pantanal
are an existential threat to the wildlife here.
Almost 5,000 species of plants and animals
make this place their home.
Even though it's a Unesco World Heritage Site,
less than 5% of the Pantanal is actually made up
of protected national parks.
So conservationists are finding new ways to preserve biodiversity
and protect some of the most iconic creatures on the planet.
So, I've come to see another group of heroes, really,
who are fighting to protect the Pantanal.
This is none too shabby.
My goodness.
And THAT is what I'm really hoping to see.
Only one of the so-called big five cats are found in South America.
It's the jaguar.
It's arguably the most iconic animal on the Continent
and one of my top bucket-list creatures to see,
but it's shy and often hard to spot, let alone film.
I knew I wouldn't be lucky enough to see any,
but I went out with Beatriz Lopes Monteiro,
a biologist with Oncafari,
a conservation group working in Brazil
to preserve critical ecosystems.
Here, they operate on a huge cattle ranch,
helping to protect a healthy population
of elusive jaguars.
OK, so now we're really looking for him.
WHISPERS: That is absolutely astonishing.
Oh, my God! It's stunning!
I didn't expect that we would drive just a short distance
and suddenly there'd be a whopping great jaguar lying on the road.
I mean, it's staggering.
He looks quite playful.
Yeah, he's in a young age.
Almost two years.
And he's this young male that is discovering this land
and discovering partners,
discovering the other jaguars that are around.
Has he found a partner?
Do we have some good gossip about him?
Yes, definitely.
We already seen him with another female.
This is a huge area inside of, er, this farm.
It has 53,000 hectares
and it has a lot of reserved areas.
And also, the farms around here don't hunt
these animals any more. Mm.
Because we see that eco-tourism is something that is very important
to develop economically, and...
Make money? Make money out of it.
Yeah.
The concept of eco-tourism,
the idea of the safari,
is definitely increasing in popularity in South America
because people are able to make a good income
and economy from it.
Anyway, the cat is on the move!
Do you think we can go closer?
BEATRIZ SPEAKS TO DRIVER
DRIVER COUGHS
ENGINE STARTS
Shipa always coughs before he moves the vehicle.
Yes, this is key for the eco-tourism
of the nature observation to happen, is the habituation of these animals.
Showing them that the presence of the car,
the sounds of the cameras, the radio,
it doesn't mean anything.
So this is something that is important for them
to get to know us and to know that we are not threatening them at all.
Getting jaguars used to the presence of people
makes it more possible to go on a proper safari here.
If tourists pay to stay here - ideally in eco-lodges -
some of the profits can be ploughed back into conservation.
Tourism also means jobs for local people.
Farmers who used to shoot jaguars for eating their livestock
now leave them alone because of the economic benefits they bring.
Rather than tourism just damaging, it can help to protect.
WHISPERS: There's a mother and cub!
This is astonishing!
As life experiences go, this is very special.
Oh, my God!
Shipa will take the car over there. OK.
To have a better sight, right? OK.
Yes. No problem. DRIVER COUGHS
This is an incredible new experience to be part of.
I think also incredible even for you, no?
Yes, definitely! Definitely!
To see her with the cub,
it's something that is amazing for us.
And they really hope here that this model of eco-tourism
is something that can be exported elsewhere in the Pantanal
and maybe to other wild areas of Brazil.
She's now just, what, 20 metres in front of our vehicle.
It was completely thrilling to see this apex predator -
and the next generation - up close in the Pantanal.
This extraordinary water wilderness
is one of the true treasures of South America,
but even as I was leaving it, I was reminded that it's fragile.
Fire!
There's a fire by the side of the road, look!
Oh, man, the burning bush.
Can we stop? Stop, stop, stop.
There's nothing we can do about this.
I mean, this is even burning
the grass that's on stony ground here.
And then there's a risk that it's going to go into the canopy.
This is how an inferno can begin.
All it takes is a spark
from a passing truck or a tossed cigarette.
That's impossible.
I hate this. I feel powerless.
I'm leaving the Pantanal now.
I don't want to sugar-coat this.
It is facing multiple threats from climate change,
from industrial farming,
from deforestation and from fire.
I travelled south towards the next stop
on this leg of my journey through South America - Paraguay.
I've crossed the border into Paraguay
and we're heading now to a remote little town called Nueva Durango.
Paraguay is one of the least-visited countries on the continent.
Landlocked, forested and actually a bit mysterious,
it's been described as a tough place to live and survive.
And it's one of the poorest countries in South America.
Over the centuries, many Paraguayans have left
to find work abroad.
In response, governments here encouraged outsiders
to come and settle.
One group in particular came here
and they've had a really profound impact on the land.
So, I think we're coming to the supermarket.
Flippin' heck!
Well, this isn't a normal supermarket car park.
So, these guys are Mennonites.
They've basically found...
They've found wilderness here - and they transformed it.
Come on now, that is surely the first time I have seen
a cement mixer in the back of a horse and cart.
One of the elders of the community,
Isaac Wall Hildebrandt - on the right here -
was taking me off to school.
Mennonites are a Christian sect that originated in Europe in the 1600s,
but now has more than 200 colonies in Latin America.
They believe fervently in nonviolence,
reject many trappings of the modern world
and some still speak a form of old German.
The Mennonites here originally fled persecution in Germany and Russia.
They initially found sanctuary in Canada,
but then came to this remote corner of South America.
Isolation and austerity was what they were looking for.
What is the name of your horse, Isaac?
Pete? Si.
Pete as in the name?
Why do you use these carts and the horses?
I'm sure you could afford a four-wheel drive.
The practical way you live, the way you dress,
your use of the horse and cart
is very different to other Christians, isn't it?
Oh, I think we're arriving at the school.
School is where the Mennonites pass on their distinctive culture
to their kids...
Oh, my.
..under a watchful eye.
As I understand it, they were a community,
many of them were originally in Canada.
And they left Canada because, er,
they were being forced to adopt
a national education curriculum there.
And they wanted the freedom to be able
to educate their children the way they wanted,
which is why they came here to Paraguay.
What is the lesson?
What are they being taught?
That is exceptional.
I mean, their handwriting is astonishing for their age.
And do boys and girls both learn Spanish?
Confirming whether the women in the community
would all agree they're happy at home
proved a little tricky.
HE SPEAKS GERMAN
It's something unlike anything I've seen...anywhere in the world.
Not talking amongst each other. Very regimented.
They're all lined up, actually, in height-descending order.
Look.
CHILDREN READ ALOUD
So, do they learn...?
Well, I'm presuming they learn what you would consider...?
They have an education appropriate for the community?
You're not teaching them about the big wide world, I imagine.
What is the reason for not teaching them about computer studies
or geography?
So, what do you want these children to become?
What is the aim of their education?
I do fear that part of the reason
the Mennonites quite like their isolation
is because here they're very unlikely
to get school inspectors coming round to check
that the children are being prepared for anything approaching
a modern world.
There are only 40,000 Mennonites in Paraguay,
in a nation of 7 million people.
But they control hundreds of thousands of hectares.
They've had an extraordinary impact on this country
and on another of South America's great wilderness areas.
I'm now arriving into the third great eco-region
that I've visited on this leg of my journey down through South America.
This is the Chaco.
After the Amazon, the Chaco is the largest forest
in South America.
It's twice the size of Spain
and covers almost half of Paraguay,
as well as parts of Bolivia, Brazil and Argentina.
The Chaco is a dry forest.
The plants and trees here are adapted
to the blistering heat and shortage of water.
I've walked just a little way into the Chaco,
just to try and get a sense of this forest.
It is stunning and it is sharp.
Razor-sharp.
The dense vegetation, covered in spines,
spikes and thorns,
make the forest of the Chaco pretty impenetrable.
There are still thousands of square miles here
where few humans have ever set foot.
Oh, my goodness.
When settlers first came here,
they described the Chaco as a green hell.
And certainly, still today, it is just full of things
that spike you and grab you and nibble you and bite you.
It's so dense and thick.
There could be a jaguar just over there and I wouldn't see it.
But it is full of incredible biodiversity.
Over the centuries, most European settlers left
the rugged and hostile Chaco well alone,
but the Mennonites?
Well, they're made of tougher stuff.
You drive for hours on dusty tracks
and then to suddenly appear here,
it just feels a little bit surreal.
It's a very ordered, well-kept community.
I'd arrived in the remote town of Filadelfia.
It's home to one of the largest communities of Mennonites
in Paraguay, and it's a bit of a boom town.
This is one of the poorer countries of the Americas,
but, with sweat and toil, the Mennonites have managed
to carve out a prosperous little life for themselves.
And full credit to them.
The Mennonites here still hold on to many of the old traditions,
but they've clearly embraced rather more of the 21st century
than the ultra-conservatives I've come from.
It's bizarre. Look, there's a Chevrolet showroom here.
The Mennonites have cleared vast areas of dense Chaco forest
to build towns and huge cattle ranches.
The Mennonites are staggeringly good at farming in this isolation
and, with massive demand for food from China and the West,
business has boomed.
The Chortitzer Agricultural Cooperative exports milk,
beef and leather around the planet.
So, we're just going straight over there.
That's where the animals come in.
OK, we will follow you. Yeah.
Patrick Friesen's great-grandparents were among the earliest Mennonites
to farm cattle in the Chaco.
He studied in Canada for two years.
The cattle that you'll see here,
it's more of the Indian breed, the Brahman,
the zebu as we call them. The zebu?
Yeah, exactly.
This area, what the idea behind this area is,
it's to cool down the animal.
The animals come from natural pastures around here.
These are probably one-and-a-half years old.
Where is meat from here going?
About 60-65%, er, is exported.
Mainly... Well, different markets.
Germany, for example, or to Switzerland.
African markets as well or Lebanon, for example.
Those are countries where we export to.
You are so connected with globalisation
and the international market, I'm presuming?
Ironically, we settled down as migrants from Canada,
we looked for isolation.
We looked to not be in touch with the outside world.
And, ironically, we could see within two or three decades
that we wouldn't be able to survive that, probably.
We like to expand.
We process about 900-1,200 cattle a day.
Per year, it's about 180,000.
What's the next stage, Patrick?
The next stage will be where cattle goes in.
That's where it's, er... It's killed.
You can see in here, they're still working.
There's cow after cow going past. Cow after cow.
Carcass after carcass.
It's an astonishing sight.
So, you'll have somebody here who's, what, dispatching up to 1,000 a day?
Yeah.
As a carnivore, I have to accept this is where my food comes from.
Yeah, exactly. This is a gruesome aspect of human existence really,
isn't it?
How many skins are likely to be in there, do you think?
600. 600?
Yeah. And these are the seats in your car.
This is your steering wheel.
This is maybe your shoes.
Land Rover has bought from us.
We have Ferrari that have bought from us.
It's extraordinary to see industrial agriculture, isn't it?
What would your great-grandparents,
your grandparents have made of this?
First of all, they would have never have believed this - the scale.
Er, second,
they wouldn't have a problem with this either
because they did the same thing, only not on this scale.
The success of Mennonite businesses has turbo-charged
the agriculture industry of this remote landlocked country.
Paraguay is now a major player in the global food market,
exporting millions of tonnes of soy beans
and as much beef as the entire European Union.
That provides jobs and economic growth is crucial for a poor nation,
and we do need to feed the 8 billion people on the planet,
but not everyone or everywhere is a winner.
Can we stop?
OK, thank you, mate.
In the last decade, the Paraguayan Chaco has lost
more than 6 million acres of native vegetation -
and most of that's for cattle grazing.
Acres and acres of farmland.
And this used to be the Chaco.
The Chaco is said to have one of the fastest rates
of deforestation anywhere in the world.
By one account,
up to seven trees are being lost in the Chaco every second.
Throughout my long journey down through the Americas,
I'd learnt that it isn't just the wildlife that suffers
when ancient forests and ecosystems are destroyed.
It's not even just the global climate that's at stake.
The indigenous people of the Americas are often swept aside.
This is the indigenous community of Chaidi,
home to the Ayoreo people.
Mucho gracias. Mucho gusto.
Welcome. Gracias.
Taguide Picanerai is the chief's son.
He grew up in Chaidi.
His grandparents' generation lived as nomadic hunter-gatherers
in the forest that used to cover this wider area.
RATTLING
MAN SINGS
So, the shaman who's singing is the grandfather,
and father of the chief.
There's definitely an exceptionally strong sense of community
amongst the people here,
but there is definitely poverty and there is trauma here as well.
Many Ayoreo first came into contact with the outside world
in the 1940s and '50s, when Mennonite farmers arrived
and established their first ranches here.
Then, in the 1980s, fundamentalist American missionaries
came and violently dragged many more Ayoreo people out of the forest.
The ongoing destruction of the Chaco
has forced more and more of them out.
Some here have only left the forest recently.
Much of the Ayoreo's land has been lost or taken.
Many of the villagers now find labouring work
on the surrounding cattle ranches.
But Taguide and some of the other villagers are determined
to protect what's left of their forest.
They mount armed patrols to try and stop outsiders from cutting
and chopping the forest or seizing their remaining land.
What do you mean, the people who are inside the forest?
So do you have relatives, then, who are living that life,
almost as hunter-gatherers?
Taguide has never met some of his relatives
who live in the forest, but he knows they're there.
Occasionally he comes across evidence
of where they've been living.
He took me deep into the Chaco.
It is astonishing to think that you have relatives still living
such an isolated life in the Chaco.
From the time the first Europeans came to the Americas,
the indigenous people have suffered -
slavery, disease, exploitation.
In many areas, they've never been fully integrated
into the nations that govern them.
And here in the Chaco, a few have said that enough is enough.
They've decided a traditional lifestyle
with all its hardships and difficulties
is better than what's on offer from the modern world.
The Ayoreo - they're not, as some would call them, uncontacted.
They've experienced almost always the modern world.
They've seen it. They've heard it.
They've witnessed or felt its destructive force
as its bulldozers have levelled their forest
and their home.
And they have said, "No, that's not what we want."
And they have retreated further into the wilderness
to find a sanctuary.
I find it astonishing, beautiful and moving
that in the 21st century there are still people living
an isolated hunter-gatherer existence out there
in the endless Chaco.
Next time...
Oh, it's epic!
..from the sands of the Atacama to snow-capped peaks in Patagonia,
it's the final leg of my journey down the Americas.
This ferry is going to take me to the end of the world -
el fin del mundo.