I'm still alive

I'm still alive

(Continued)

We sped through the desert in a silence only broken by Enrique thumping the steering wheel in frustration, then forcing yet more peaches and cherries upon us while apologising.
"That's life" I (probably incorrectly) replied in Spanish.

When we eventually reached a town, we stopped at the first service station while Enrique interrogated truckers relentlessly.

Kevin and I napped the rest of the way and were let out at Cipolletti, which we supposed would make a nice base to visit the city of Neuquen from, where I could try and replace some of my things.

Enrique gave me a big, fluffy jumper with arms long enough for an average silverback gorilla, two jars of cherries and literally more peaches than we could carry, and I assured him that my ridiculous fate wasn't his fault at all.
Meanwhile Kev was sneaking as much fruit as he could back into the truck.

I said hell to our self-imposed budget (which consisted of spending money only on rice, salami, coffee and alfajores) and paid for a night in a hostel and a restaurant pizza.
Cipolletti has Italian heritage, and they make some mean pizza.

Friday, December 7, 2012

I bought boxers, socks and a vest from a supermarket in Neuquen, then a bag to put them in.
Unfortunately camping gear was crazy money due to the import taxes the current government installed to promote internal industry and trade.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Cipolletti was a nice small town, but stretched into the outskirts of Neuquen maknig it difficult to hitch out of, so we got a cheap local bus to Senillosa to start hitching again.
We'd had a nice break and I was able to come to terms with not owning anything

Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, December 9, 10 and 11, 2012

We spent the next few days hitching and taking local buses slowly raising in altitude into the Andes, through Plaza Huincul, Zapala and Junin de los Andes.

The gorilla-jumper Enrique gave me meant I was sleeping out still, but hobo-style, without a sleeping bag.
Cardboard boxes flattened out as a mattress, plastic bags over my boots and Kevin's jacket zipped over my legs were the order of the day.

When we got to Bariloche it was too big and cold to carry on hobo-ing, so we got a room in a nice family-run hostel.