Once we got off the Sierra Valdivieso we needed to get back to Ushuaia (13km down Ruta 3). We tried to hitch but there wasn´t much traffic at 9am. So we started to walk down the highway, waiting for a ride to pick us up. About a km down the road we stopped a colectivo that gave us a ride back to our hostal for US$3 each. We got some stuff together, repacked our bags, picked up our stuff from the Refugio del Mochillero (thanks to Sebastian, Fernando and crew) and headed out to hitch to Rio Grande or as far as we could make it.
We walked a few blocks towards the edge of town where we tried to get a ride. After 15 minutes a van picked us up and took us to the real edge of town. Here, at the sign claiming, 'Welcome to the Southernmost City in the World!' we awaited the next ride. In short time we got picked up by Ricardo, an amiable truck driver carrying air conditioning units from Korea that had arrived at the port. He was taking them to Rio Grande, some 200km from Ushuaia. He took us all the way there, which was great. In between his sentiments about the government, Che Guavera, and crossing himself every time we passed a cross or place where he knew a trucked who had died there in an accident, he was a really smooth ride for us.
He brought us to the warehouse laden edge of Rio Grande where we began to walk towards town. A few minutes later a taxi stopped to solicit his services, and we asked to be taken to the other side of town. For US$6 he took us all the way to the far side of Rio Grande, next to the beach. He said all the trafic would be passing through headed to San Sebastian, the border with Chile where we would need to cross to get off of Tierra del Fuego and back onto the continent.
We waited a while, ate sandwiches, waited some more, and finally got picked up by a very friendly, larger man with dark skin and no teeth named Oscar. Oscar was headed to northern Argentina, maybe 26 hours north of where we were headed. His mother had passed away that morning and he was rushing home for the funeral. Normally people fly, but since it is imposibble to get a flight out of Ushuaia (which is why we were hitching in the first place!), he was driving home for the funeral. He agreed to take us to Rio Gallegos, roughly 500km from Ushuaia, which is way further than we expected to get that day! We were smooth sailing all the way to the mainland.
Oscar was a very fast driver, rarely letting the speedometer drop below 140kph. This was good becuase we got there fast, but didn´t get a chance to relax very much. To get to Rio Gallegos from Ushuaia, you need to cross the border into Chile (exit Argentina, enter Chile), cross Punta Delgada across the Straight of Magellan, cross the border into Argentina again (exit Chile, enter Argentina) and drive another 150km to Rio Gallegos. Oscar helped with all of this and we made it to RG around 11:30pm. We were feeling good, even though he dropped us off outside of town.
We walked into town, maybe 2km, which was quite an effort considering we were carrying everything we owned. We started asking at each hotel we saw if we could stay, but suprisingly they were all full. We figured there would be more downtown, so we kept walking and kept asking, to no avail.
When we got downtown, we were worked. IT was close to 12:30am, we had been hiking at 6:30am, made it back to Ushuaia and then to Rio Gallegos and all we wanted to do was rest a bit. Every place we went to was sorry, and sent us to the next place. After 10 hotels, we had had enough, and decided to convince the hotel people to let us sleep wherever we could. The conversation went like this:
Jonathan: Estas completo, verdad? (You´re full, right?)
Hotel: Sì. (Yes)
J: Estamos muy consados y caminamos todo el dia, tienes algun lugar donde puedimos descansar? El sofà? (We're really tired and just walked all day. Don´t you have any place where we can rest, maybe that sofa?
H: No. (No.)
J: Tenemos carpa, bolsa a dormir, todo! Por favor? El jardin es tan bonito? (We have a tent, sleeping bags, everything! Please? The garden looks nice?)
H: No. (No.
J: Sabe donde podimos preguntar? (Do you know where we can ask?)
H: La comissaria. (The police station)
J: Gracias por nada. (Thanks, ass.)
So that was about it until 3am when we gave up. We caught a taxi to the bus station where we were sure we could sleep, at least lay down for free. As soon as we rolled up to the bus station, it all made sense! The entire bus station was FULL (really, full) of people, sleeping on the benches, floors, corners, phone booths, the whole place. Every backpacker in the city was there. I´ve never been so relieved to sleep on the floor of a bus terminal. And so we rested.
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