Returning to the narrative, after a hiatus in which I presented facts that I didn't experience (and don't ask me why I narrated what I didn't see, and sometimes what I did see, I didn't narrate). I go back to the day Patrícia and Carlos met at the restaurant in São Paulo. That same day, important decisions would seal my trip to the South Pole...

In order to make a long-held dream come true, that of owning a farm in the interior of São Paulo, having to rely on my wife's approval to sign the documents — who found himself reluctant, one condition was imposed on me: we had to take a trip to Punta Arenas. At the time, I couldn't contain my amazement:

"But this is coercion!"

"Basílio, no one is forcing you to do anything."

As a police officer, even though I knew about many wrong things, I never took advantage of them. I understand that a man's most precious asset is his moral integrity, but would I be accepting a bribe for the first time in my life?

"Punta Arenas? Where is it?"

"In southern Chile, in the Patagonia region...", and, to further increase my amazement, she finished: "Close to Antarctica."

"What? Antarctica? You've got to be kidding."

"Not Antarctica! Next to it."

"If it's close, it's cold. And you know I can't stand cold places."

"But I like! And why should only your wishes prevail? Can't you also sacrifice a little for me? Having this place is much more of your dream than mine."

"But, Regina... Couldn't it be a warmer place? Fernando de Noronha, for example..."

"No!"

I tried to get around it:

"All right, go on, I agree about the cold, but couldn't it be somewhere closer? Bariloche... How about it?"

"No!"

"What the heck, why Ponta Arenas?"

"Not Ponta. Punta!"

"Yes, ponta, punta, What's so special about it?"

"From there you can go to Torres del Paine Park, one of the most beautiful in the world. It's take it or leave it. Your site in exchange for Punta Arenas."

"But.."

"No more, no less! Punta Arenas or no deal!"

Of course, Regina would end up signing the papers, regardless of Punta Arenas, but she took the opportunity to remind me that, in a relationship, you always have to make concessions. We ended up buying the site in the small town of Taiaçupeba, near Mogi das Cruzes. It's a beautiful place, tucked away in the Atlantic forest and halfway up the north coast of São Paulo.

And, as I had no choice, while Regina took care of the details with the travel agency, I sat down at the computer and tried to find out more about Punta Arenas.

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     We took a cab to Cumbica airport from my mother's house in the Penha neighborhood. My mother — a long-lived lady, 83 years old at the time, but still in active life, was full of catchphrases, such as 'I just don't hit the lottery', she usually said on occasions when her suspicions about a person were confirmed. Another: 'Those who don't take risks don't take chances', to encourage us to have the guts. And the famous 'God pay you, my God', uttered only once in her life, given the exceptionality of the situation (at first glance, redundant, but totally meaningful, considering that God is a triune Being).

     We put the suitcases in the car to the sound of several of his recommendations, insisting that the taxi driver accept a tip. My mother was the tipping queen. Everyone loved her: petrol station attendants, letter carriers, garbage collectors, pizza delivery. She wished us luck and asked us to call her as soon as we arrived, adding: 'May God guide the pilot'.

     And so my fate was sealed as I headed for the Antarctic cold.