The 40 Day Four

The police at the edge of town took our information, ¨Por las dudas,¨ as if we were another car driving through. The Argentines think we are crazy. Hours passed. We decided to walk.














After some kilometers a worker from Comodoro Rivadavia, who liked to smoke cigarettes with the windows up, allowed us into his truck. He had been stationed in the Islas Malvinas, not the Falkland Islands, during the war. His bitterness had not yet faded for the Argentine government. He did have a kind heart though, and took a longer route home to assist us on our journey.

There was a river, Rio Senguer, that the locals liked to camp by in the summer. It flowed under the Route and our driver dropped us off on the bridge. We slept under it. We offered our neighbors, a Chilean family, a spot by the fire. The didn´t join us, but thanked us for the invitation with a bottle of wine.