If you read the previous post, you know that Chey and I had decided to give the long hitch (700 km from Los Antiguos to El Bolsón, starting at 3:30 PM) a go.
Since it was late, there was no time for the usual planning, grooming and getting properly out of town. We just walked (our bellies rumbling) 3 or 4 blocks in the general direction of "out of town", and started putting our thumb out... Hitching never felt so strange.
We probably must have looked pretty desperate, because not longer than 15 minutes after, we got a lift. Our benefactor was going east through Perito Moreno, and said he could drop us at a crossroads where the road met Ruta 40.
On the way he talked little, which I was grateful for because I could barely think. Meanwhile Chey in the back of the car spotted an interesting thing under the passenger seat.
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| That thing under the seat is a gun. Yep. |
The nice quiet man stopped in Perito Moreno to buy lotto tickets (that I genuinely think he must've won if there's anything like karma in this life), and then as promised took us to the crossroads. In the middle of the desert again.
We thanked him and got off the car, looking at each other and thinking what was going to happen next. But with our luck still intact, as soon as we made ourselves "comfortable" on the roadside, a 4WD stopped.
The guys in the vehicle were young, chain-smoking, awful drivers with good intentions.
They didn't go slower than 150 kilometres per hour... and that was only on the bends of the road. The rest of the time was around 180.
With our hearts in our throats, we both agreed wordlessly that for the time being the best thing to do was to face the risk of staying in the car (versus the risk of staying on the road at that hour). It was a short distance but it felt never-ending.
Finally, back in the Gauchito Gil roundabout where once we were dropped by our first lift south, the young smokey guys dropped us. By then it was getting seriously late, and that is the proper middle of nowhere.
Not many cars were coming, and most of them were going in the opposite direction. I found a piece of gum in my backpack pocket and divided it in two, thinking that it might be our last meal in a while. We had less than a quarter of our water bottle left and the wind was so strong that I was sure we were not going to be able to pitch our tent in case of being left there.
I started thinking about a night in the desert, hungry and thirsty, only sheltered by our sleepingg bags and each other.
While we saw the last bit of sun slowly going down, I looked at the Gauchito shrine, and said out loud "I believe in nothing really, but Gauchito, if you get us out of this I'll buy myself a red traveling bracelet" (red is El Gauchito's colour of choice).
Not longer that 5 minutes went by, and a truck stopped for us. We were so grateful we couldn't believe it, and you can only imagine how much more grateful we were when we found out the driver was going all the way to my grandmother's town (only 15 km away from El Bolson).
The driver was from Chile, very nice and fun to talk to, though I was struggling to put two words together due to the hunger that was basically consuming my brain.
It was a smooth an uneventful trip, but at a steady 80 km/h, which meant it was also painfully long. It didn't matter. We were on our way.
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| Back north with a friendly driver. |
...
Now imagine you're a lady who lives peacefully on her own. You finished your dinner, read some stuff maybe, and then went to bed. You're aware your grand-daughter is happily traveling somewhere in the south of the country. It's two in the morning. Suddenly, there's a desperate knock on the door.
That was the scenario my grandma was faced with that night.
I knocked again and called her name from outside the front door. I can only imagine the amount of surprise our arrival caused, but she came to the door, hugged us and let us in.
After a short while, me and Chey were warm inside the house, being fed with as much as my awesome grandma could take from the fridge.
She made herself a coffee (it helps her sleep, don't ask) and listened to our story, that was told between loud chewing and swallowing noises as Chey and I filled our empty bellies.
That night, against all odds, we had a full stomach and a warm bed. We still had to face a bit of an odyssey to recover access to money, but we were alive and knowing we would wake up to the smell of coffee and toast rather than the sound of the howling wind in the middle of the desert. Life was good.
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| The truck that saved our lives. |
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