The Border

We thanked Eduardo for the advice by staying at his place upon our return. Fully rested, our next mission was to cross the border back into Argentina and get to El Calafate.

The border was only about 60 kilometers away, and we hitched a ride to Chilean customs without much trouble. The border itself, to cross into Argentina was another eight kilometers on, following a dirt road of no man´s land between the two countries. There was little traffic so we walked it. Only four cars passed the whole two hour trek and our optimisim was dropping as we crossed the desert plains. Getting to El Calafate proved to be a little more difficult than we had predicted.

We got stuck on the border.

No one would give us a ride. Every vehicle that came through was either full with a family or a tourist bus whose driver wouldn´t even consider letting us on. At ten P.M. the border closed.

Martin, one of the National Guard members posted on the border, had come outside a couple of times to hang out with us over the course of the hours that we spent there. He thought we were crazy and loved the company, being stuck in the middle of nowhere for a month at a time. When the border closed he offered us the abandoned building next door to sleep for the night.

There were old matresses, a fire pit to cook on, and best of all, beer given to us from the Argentine National Guard to help pass the night. We were warm, full bellied, and out of the neverending Patagonian wind.













We wrote Martin and the guys a recomendation for the thier hospitality and got a ride on the first bus in the morning, convincing the driver to take us for half the price. It just so happened that it was the same bus that Scarlett and her new Argentine friend, Marina, were on. We became five and went on to El Calafate.