Morning reading |" The end of the world "Ushuaia

　Ushuaia, known as the end of the world and the southernmost city on earth, haunts me with its unique location and "legendary" story.

　　In October 2019, I was invited to participate in the "World We Want" Antarctic Forum, and I embarked on a journey to Antarctica.

　　The remoteness, vastness, purity and even mystery of Antarctica make people yearn; crystal glaciers, snow-capped mountains, cute penguins, lazy seals, unforgettable; the discussions of Chinese and foreign experts on global warming, green low-carbon and Antarctic protection at the forum are exquisite, deafening and thought-provoking; and the city known as the end of the world and the southernmost city of the earth, Ushuaia, with its unique geographical location and quite "legendary" story, makes me linger.

　　A 3.5-hour flight from Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina, takes you to Ushuaia. Ushuaia is the capital and administrative center of tierra del Fuego Province, Argentina, located on the north shore of the Beagle Channel on the shores of ushuaia Bay, with an area of 23 square kilometers and a population of about 100,000, founded in 1870, set up in 1893, the main economic pillar industries are electrical appliances, wood processing, fishing and tourism, the local residents to engage in logging, sheep raising, fishing and so on for a living. Ushuaia is the ideal starting point for the Antarctic and is therefore world-renowned.

　　That day, overnight in Ushuaia. From the window of the hotel, the town is surrounded by mountains and seas, the snow and green mountains are full of shadows but charming, and the brilliant lights of various buildings in different shades are reflected in the sparkling Beagle waterways. I can't help but feel that the night is silent by the mountains and the sea, and the lights are brighter than the stars. The snow and green mountains shine together, and Ushuaia is famous.

　　When you arrive in Ushuaia, you can't help but punch in at the post office at the end of the world. The next morning, I took the small train that used to transport prisoners to logging, which is now a sightseeing tour, to Tierra del Fuego National Park. The tour guide, Miss Lucy, said that the post office at the end of the world is in Tierra del Fuego National Park. More than twenty years ago, she said, there was an Argentine named Carlos, who was a fanatical Argentine patriot who, in pursuit of free will, went into hiding to "the end of the world" and opened a one-man post office, which has been operating until now. Miss Lucy's "anecdotes" about the post office made me "get better". Who expected, her words turned sharply: Carlos is old, neither works regularly nor necessarily opens every day, and now whether he works or opens is unknown. This made me feel anxious about "hunting curiosity". Since this is the case, it is only up to luck, so I still go straight to the post office at the "end of the world".

　　On the shore, there is a container-sized house on a boardwalk deep into the sea, and the Argentine flag is flying high on both sides of the boardwalk and around the roof. The rectangular house has a wooden roof and wooden doors and tin walls, on which it reads: Unidad Post FinMundo (Post Office at the End of the World). Pushing the door in, fortunately Carlos was in the house, and there were many tourists from all over the world who came to visit. Carlos's kind eyebrows, the iconic beard is gray and white, the figure is sturdy and the waist is straight, and there is a weather-beaten but determined old man aura, which is respected. I selected a few representative postcards of ushuaia landscapes, filled them out, and asked Carlos to stamp them with the "Post Office at the End of the World" logo and the words postmarked. A postcard is $3 a piece and postmarked for $1. When I had to pay, Carlos said that he would collect the renminbi with a comparison. It turned out that Carlos learned that I was from China when I filled out the address of the postcard. He was both a lover of numismatic collecting and had a crush on China. When I gave him a hundred yuan bill, he immediately pointed to the head on the coin and cried out, "Mao Zedong, Mao Zedong", and the reverence overflowed into words. I couldn't help but give him a thumbs up and let him take a picture with him holding a hundred yuan.

　　Ushuaia's king crab is also famous. On the evening of our return from Tierra del Fuego National Park, a group of ten of us came to a Chinese restaurant on St. Martin Avenue called Bamboo, which was opened along the street. Entering the store, on the left is the grilling room, the fire is red, the aroma of roasting sheep is full of mouth-watering; on the right is a row of fish tanks, full of bright red king crabs in the tank, the appearance of fierceness makes people eat fingers; in the middle are more than a dozen tables covered with white tablecloths. The whole restaurant is clean, comfortable and warm, and the Chinese elements are visible. The owner and wife are from Dalian, China, and have run a restaurant here for many years, and knowing that we are from Shanghai naturally adds a little closer. The hostess especially enthusiastically introduced that this is the best season to eat Ushuaia king crab, the crab body is large, the crab meat is full, the crab is delicious and cheap, and the thirty dollars each weighs about two kilograms. The brother of zhengjun in his peers loves food, especially good at eating crab shrimp, and is familiar with the "crab road". He said that in Shanghai, the price of an emperor crab of the same weight is at least eight hundred yuan, and the king crab here is equivalent to only two hundred yuan, so cheap "the opportunity must not be lost, the time is not waiting for me", and he asked for ten king crabs in one go, an average of one per person. According to local practice, all steamed to preserve the original taste. We cut our hands and bite our teeth and eat.

　　During the meal, we chatted with the hostess. It turned out that the couple also opened a hotel in Dalian, and came to Ushuaia many years ago to travel and left a good impression. The hostess said that Ushuaia was quiet and tidy, leisurely, rich in seafood, rich in South American style, and liked the environment here, so she rented a house and opened this restaurant. We asked, "How's the business?" She said: "The characteristics of the season are distinct, and every summer in Antarctica is the peak tourist season here, and business is not worried." No, yesterday and today king crabs alone sold more than a hundred. In the winter, there is almost no business in Menkolo. We asked, "Is the child here too?" She said: "The child is in junior high school in Dalian. "Then you have to go back often?" "What can I do, it's too far away, it's inconvenient." At the end, she sighed, "Dilemma, you can't take care of that head!" Then he muttered, "I'm going to go back." At this time, tears were already swirling in her eyes, and the homesickness was mournful. It can really be said that "the rising old is coming, when will you return to your hometown?" ”

　　Back at the hotel that night, I tossed and turned, having trouble sleeping. Carlos's post office, the homesickness of the hostess, lingered in my mind for a long time. (Xue Quanrong)