The easiest thing to do when you are bordering depression is to take a bus. Where I am are no such services. To find comfort I first need to cross the country’s full width.
The discomfort of cycling in wintry Patagonia where cold, clouds and wetness leave little space for enjoyment. It might peek through now and then, yet the mirror placed in front of me is displeasing clear: from effects of being alone too long to battling snow..