Back North

Our last morning in Ushuaia we had a nice coffee and then took a taxi out of town (buses were not coming).

We got off by a service station and almost instantly were approached by a fervent christian. We noticed he was because he used the words "god" and "bless/ blessed/ blessing" a bit too often. He offered us to take us a few kilometres further North, but we politely declined because
  a)We were hoping for a better (longer) ride, and
  b)We both knew he was trying to convert us, and I get really itchy about people doing that.

We said goodbye to the guy and moved forward to stand after the police control.

If in some countries you want the police to not know you're hitching, in Argentina is pretty much the opposite: the best way to do it is after the police control: people slow down when they see the little  office, and in some places (like Ushuaia) they take your information so, in case you dissapear, your family know where was the last place where you were seen.

Nice thoughts people have about cops in Argentina.

As we were discussing the best strategy for that particular spot (with our thumbs out just in case), a truck stopped. Again, the first vehicle we hitched to.

The driver and his partner were nice and polite people from the North of the country. They moved slowly, talked slowly, and drove veeeeery slooooowly. They were also big fans of cumbia (a pretty vulgar, monotonous, Argentinian version of the colombian cumbia. with hideous repetitive rythm and awful sexist lyrics, sadly very popular).

Our cumbia enthusiast driver, going across the mountains.

It was a long ride, but the driver was very talkative, so that was good fun. Occasionally he would make his young partner participate of the conversation by asking him "Isn't that right, pelado?", to which pelado would answer by nodding silently (pelado means bald).

We made it back to a still boring Rio Grande, and spent the night at a different place, this time without a brick wall view. You can't have everything in life.

Chey entering Rio Grande in style.

The big trout.

The "stunning landscape photographer" of the group went for a walk.

In the morning, after an awesome breakfast, we had a long walk out of town to start hitching again.

The first decent breakfast at a cafe we got in Argentina.
It had scrambled eggs, toast, cream cheese, dulce de leche and
home-made jam, real orange juice, fruit salad, yogurt and muesli,

A beautiful day to be on the road.

We were quickly picked up by... a bus! That's why in general I hitch to every kind of vehicle, it's like a rule: you never know.

The bus driver wasn't going too far, but he took us to the bit of road after the police control, where they let me use the toilet.

 And as you know, after police control is a good place for hitchhikers.

After waiting for a bit, which wasn't too bad because it was starting to get less cold, we got our lift number twelve: Cristian, a guy from the centre of the country who was driving all the way back there. Some 1700 k he was planning to cover in two days.

The first bit was really relaxed. His car was very new and felt super smooth. We were comfortable, chatting and relaxing. We crossed the border into Chile with the ferry, which took a bit longer than usual, and then out of Chile again.

Nice, smooth feeling car.

Patagonian landscape (or sheep apocalypse?)

Gaucho, the Argentinian cowboy.

After the border crossing, our chilled driver got posessed by a speed demon. For the rest of the way to Rio Gallegos he drove at a steady speed of 180 km/h, getting both Chey and I very nervous.

I kept looking around for guanacos, since they usually decide to cross the road very randomly and cause loads of fatal accidents.

Luckily, we made it to Rio Gallegos in one piece, and decided to call it a day and stay at a hotel close to the road to continue adventuring next morning.