Leaving Ushuaia took a good seventeen-hour bus ride with hitting customs between the two countries at least seven times. Landing in Calafate for far too long, I hopped on the last seat of the bus heading into Torres del Paine, Chile. Needless to say, it was worth the paine in my ass to get there…
From there I journeyed to El Chalten, Argentina where I was greeted by familiar faces from the south awaiting me with beer.
Ashley, another solo traveler, and I met on the bus from Ushuaia. Since then we’ve crossed paths all across the two countries from Chalten now to Bariloche, following the gringo trail all along the 40.
I felt instantly at home as I walked the Talkeetna of the south. It would only make sense that I would run into a few Alaskans here…
The days were spent climbing and the evenings all with great company, storytelling, poetry, wine, asado…Still unsure of how I ever left.
So until next year…I’ll work on my Castellano. Thanks for the good times and the times still to be had. Here’s to you guys..
“And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around The Overflow the reed beds sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The man from Snowy River is a household word today,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride…”