Getting to Argentina
This story is probably one of the best of my trip so far, and one of the best experiences too. Which is very nice to say since the day before it, the day described in the last story of San Pedro, was so effing miserable.
That day in San Pedro (the day we decided to get the hell out of town and into Argentina) we went to the bus office and tried to book a ticket to the lovely Argentinian city of Salta (from where I am writing currently). The day was this last Saturday, two days ago. We go to the counter, hope in our eyes and Argentina in our hearts, and get told that not only is the Sunday bus to Salta full, but so is the Tuesday bus. In fact, the next bus with avaiable seats to Salta, Argentina is on Friday. 6 days away. Only three buses go on the route per week, and the next two were full. We were basically being denied exit from this hell, and were piiiiiisssssssed. Our one way out was blocked, and none of us wanted to go on a 24 hour bus to Santiago. It was Argentina or bust.
Luck was with us: a fellow traveler in the office had a friend who organized a taxi for the journey into Argentina for a mere $40 per person. We followed the person's advice, went to the tour company the friend had used, and asked them if we could arrange such a car. To our dismay we were quoted a price, per person, of $400 for the journey. Fuck me man. No bus. No taxi. But wait! The man at the tour agency said there was a third way: go tomorrow morning at 7:30 am to the border station. There the truckers sleep for the night, and in the morning they go through the customs and border process, and then head straight out to Argentina. No problem hitching a ride with them! Cruise into Argentina in a 18 wheeler (aka bigrig, aka lorry, aka what a scary proposition). Easy as pie! No problem amigo!
And the three of us were game. We ended up adding a 60 year old Spaniard to our group, who had to be in Buenos Aires in five days for his flight back to Madrid, and thus was willing to do anything to get out of Chile. We all knew it was a pretty dodgy prospect (would we get a ride? would the Chilean border officials approve of such hitchhiking or kick us out of the trucks or arrest us? would the truckers turn into murderous theives and rob us of all our belongings?). Yet being in San Pedro was so freaking miserable that we would basically do anything to get out of this town and into Argentina.
So the next morning, yesterday, we all woke up, dragged ourselves out of bed, and caught a ride to the border station. Somehow our resolve of the previous day was still there, a night's sleep hadn't chickened ourselves out of doing what was necessary. We arrived, adn started asking the truckers there if they would take us with them. There were about 12 trucks, we approached about five or six different ones and got shot down each time. About two hours later our persistence had paid off, a group of Peruvian truckers were willing to take us with them. There were three trucks, and four of us, so two of us would go in one truck, and two of us would go seperately in the others.
We didn't like the idea of going alone, at least 75% of the reason for me that we were actually doing this crazy mission was the fact that there was four of us and so if we all got in one truck, or at least went in twos, we would have some measure of safety. Instead two of us had to go alone. To be honest, the truckers themselves all seemed on the level: they were middle aged, all worked for the same company, had shiny new trucks, and were travelling as a group. Nevertheless, I still had some fear at the prospect of entrusting my life to a total stranger (pretty logical, huh?).
The moment came that we had to decide how to split ourselves up into the trucks. The Spaniard, Julian, would go on his own. His Spanish was fluent, he was older, and we had just met him the day before, so basically it was an easy decision for the three of us friends to make. Then it was down to Sam, Tanya, and myself. We decided Sam would go solo since he had pepper spray. If shit hit the fan, at least he had something to fight back with. So Tanya and myself went together in the third truck.
And it was absolutely brilliant. My doubts about the hitchhiking idea were erased once we hopped up into the cab: our trucker immediately put on some CC&R (that's Creedence Clearwater for the uncivilized) and started telling us about how his daughter was learning English and how he had lived in Japan for a year. In short, the truckers turned out to be great people, the trip across the Andes was amazing, the views were great looking out the giant truck windows and sitting up so high. The trucks were carrying no loads (they were on their way to get filled with cargo) and so we zipped right through the mountains.
We really couldn't have asked for a better experience, I was all smiles for hours, sitting there listening to classic American rock (like being on a roadtrip at home!) and knowing that I was having one of those unique experiences that only come while travelling. Hitchhiking across countrise in a big ole truck, who the hell does something like that? Answer: we do and did! The truckers were so cool that they wouldn't even accept money in return for taking us with them, I guess they just wanted some conversation and company on the road. Free trip to Chile, $35 saved.
Things worked out beautifully, and happiness has returned again to our gang, now down to three, but three very happy individuals in the welcoming arms of Argentina.
