More hitchhiking, and arch enemies

 Río Gallegos, like all the other towns starting with Rio in our story, is an ugly place. The one great thing it has is our friends Oscar and Tatiana, but we didn't have the time to stop and visit them, so that meant not much fun.

We had dinner at the only "fancy" place in town (because all the other places were meat havens) which was the British Club, and they gave the funniest looks at our shoes. We managed to get a pretty cheap dinner of pasta and salad while all the well-off locals stared at us as if we were something stuck on their shoes. That was fun.

After spending the night at the hotel, which was pretty nice by the way, we went straight to the road.

Looking for a nice hitching spot, we passed a hitchhiking family: mother, father and a kid that was probably under 5. A pretty odd sight. We walked past them, discussing questionable parenting,

Next thing we knew, a truck from Chile stopped. It was a man and his wife and little dog. The truck was super comfy, and they were awfully nice to us. The wife told us that since their kids became adults they started doing all the long trips together (dog included).

They asked all about us and our travels, and told us many stories of the road, including a scary accident they went through a few years ago when they fell off a bridge with the truck.

Sadly, they were going only to a close-by crossroads, so there we were dropped to wait for a second lift. Juana (the wife) gave us some lollies and scones for the road.

A happy truck.

We were aiming for El Chalten, the most popular hiking destination in Patagonia, and it was looking pretty close!

The weather was now considerably warmer, the wind much more tame, and the sun was showing here and there.

Daisies on the sunny road.

Chey waiting for a lift with the same elegant suit of comfy pants
and runners that got him so many looks at the Brit Club.

Me, same glamorous jacket, tights and crappy Converse as I wore for dinner
(no judging, fashion police! when hitchhiking sometimes you repeat outfits)

Countryside.

Who's there? Yes! El Gauchito Gil!

We quickly got a very silent hour-long lift with a father and daughter that clearly thought they were doing a good deed but were not interested in socializing with hippies like us (note: we're not hippies).

The next one was a car with two really nice guys coming back from partying in Rio Gallegos (we didn't know there was such thing), who gave us mate and played a copious amount of electronic-cumbia, which is even worse than normal cumbia.

This guys were going to El Calafate, so we asked to be dropped at the crossroads to El Chalten, where sweet innocent us hoped to get someone to take us the rest of the way (2 hours or so).

We had a big (and not good) surprise when we got off the car and saw not one, but two couples waiting at the same spot where we were supposed to stand. And pretty much instantly, another lonely hitchhiker joined the queue.

I had the happy idea of asking the people about their waiting time, and they said 3 hours. Three!

By that point, we were used to a waiting time shorter than 30 minutes, and being the only people standing on the side of the road. So this new scenario was not amusing.

Quickly we evaluated our situation: ominous storm clouds over us, a lot of competition, and a very, very lonely looking road. So we made the smart decision of turning back to the main road and hitch to El Calafate instead, where we could see a lot of cars were heading.

When we put our bags on the side of the road, another lonely hitchhiker walked to us from the crossroads. He was actually coming back from El Chalten, and going towards El Calafate; and as a decent person would do, he walked further down the road so we were the first people in line for the cars.

But then...things got messed up. Another couple (boy-girl couple) came off a car at the crossroads. They stood there, looking at us for a couple of minutes. Pink jacket, blue jacket.

She was telling him something, and he was shaking his head, and they kept looking at us, but finally she apparently convinced him of walking further up the road, before the roundabout and, outrageous, before us.

Chey and I were indignant, and couldn't stop mumbling things about people with no codes, and absolute indecency, but then it happened: Karma, in the shape of a fancy 4WD, came up from El Chalten and towards El Calafate (therefore pink and blue couldn't hitch to it because they were standing before the roundabout). The guy stopped for us, helped us put our bags in the back of the car, and we happily drove away when it was starting to rain, looking back at pink and blue and having many uncharitable thoughts.

Our lift was a private drive for wealthy tourists that was coming back from driving some ladies to El Chalten, and dropped us at the center of El Calafate. So much win.

The road of triumph and the clouds or karma.