They didn´t see us coming

And I didn´t see them either...at first. Five full plates of Asada (slow roasted beef), veggies, potatos, and salad, six dishes of dessert (had to try them all), three bowls of ice cream, and a bottle of wine. That is approximately what two skinny gringos can eat at a buffet after five days on trail food (and not quite enough at that)! Upon arriving in El Calafate, we´d been on three consecutive treks, with only buses or hitchhiking in between.

Our last trek was four days in Parque National de los Glaciars, outside El Chalten, which is the entry town for Mt. Fitz Roy and its surrounding astounding peaks. After this trek, we continued our lives as Mochileros (hitchhikers) to continue on to Calafate for the night, then continued on to Puerto Natales in Chile. So far, hitchhiking has been very good to us. While we often spend a couple of hours tyring to catch a ride, it has been the best way to meet Argentinians. When hitching out of Calafate, we were picked up with an Argentinian dancer from Buenos Aires by a trucker. Because there was a police checkpoint just out of town, we had to lie down in the trailer until passed. Once safely on our way, Natalie and I got to ride up front, sharing Maté prepared over a propane burner balanced delicately next to the gear shift. We rode with Jorgé for about two and a half hours, talking about anything besides politics (this rule was layed out at the beginning). He dropped us at nothing more than a truckstop in the middle of nowhere (well, southern patagonia actually), where we thought another ride that day was hopeless and had already scouted a gravel pit in which to pitch our tent where we weren´t likely to be bothered. Fortunately for us, the third car to pass in 2 hours was a man working in the Argentinian border town in which we needed to cross into Chile. As usual, he insisted on driving us to our exact destination. After easily crossing into Chile, we were picked up by a Chilean family returning from holiday. Crammed in the back seat of a truck with the grandfather, they drove us the final 25 km to Puerto Natales, where we have spent the last two nights, preparing for a 9 day trek in Torres del Paine National Park. I couldn´t understand a damn word the old man said, but he seemed to be entertained by every thought, none of which seemed to be questions, so it was safe to laugh along with him at every outburst--possibly at our expense :).

Now full of steak, mashed potatoes, grilled squash, red wine, and a bombero (chocolate ball with the consistency of a huge meatball), all prepared (except the bombero) loving in the rain by yours truly, we lay down for a southern hemisphere´s night sleep before again trusting our luck to the road and trail for our next leg of the journey...until next time...

Sam and Natalie (Viajeros sin dinero)