Hitchhiking to Bariloche

After an extraordinary hike to Fitzroy, I felt accomplished and eager to escape the winter and depart from El Chalten. However, upon reaching the bus station, I was informed that the next available bus wouldn’t be for another three days. Apart from being forced to linger longer than desired, the bus fare to my next destination, Bariloche, was exorbitantly high at around 180 USD. Faced with this predicament, I made the decision to hitchhike my way there.

Bariloche was approximately 1400 km north, making it quite an ambitious undertaking. Undeterred, driven mostly by frugality, I set off at daybreak. The cold was biting, compounded by the lack of adequate winter clothing, but the morning presented the best opportunity for securing a ride.

As I walked towards the intended hitchhiking spot just outside town, a car passed by, prompting me to extend my thumb. Remarkably lucky, a woman stopped and in broken English asked about my destination. Unfortunately, she was heading south for a few hundred kilometres, whereas I needed to go north. Despite the disappointment, I remained enthusiastic about the fact that a car had stopped on my very first attempt. I continued onward to a spot just outside town, along the route to the main highway.

Once I reached the designated spot, I sat down to write my destination on a piece of cardboard. The cold made it difficult to write, but I managed to scribble something legible, or so I hoped. With my sign prepared, all I could do was wait, trying to appear friendly yet desperate whenever a car passed by.

About five hours later, barely surviving the frigid temperatures, I came to the realization that my optimism had been misplaced. This late in the season, there were not many people driving north from El Chalten. I figured I might have better luck on the highway, where more trucks would be passing by. The highway was another 30 km away, not exactly a short walk. I contemplated hitchhiking to the highway, but it was already 1 pm, and if I failed to get a ride, I would potentially have to walk at least 15 km to the next town, or even 30 km back. Sleeping outside in such conditions would be perilous.

My mind raced, weighing my options: 1) Take the risk and venture onto the highway. 2) Return to the place where I had already stayed longer than intended to catch the overpriced bus. 3) Consider an alternative solution.

Without internet access, I had to return to the hostel to assess my options. The bus options were far from ideal. A 30-hour bus journey followed by another 20-hour one, both at exorbitant costs, led me to consider flying, an option I had wanted to avoid altogether. Besides minimising air travel, I had relished the idea of crossing the continent entirely by land. Unfortunately, the harsh winter conditions had made travel exceedingly challenging in this southern region, with rumours of buses getting stuck in snowstorms and roads being closed. 

Back at the hostel, I discovered that a flight to the renowned Iguazu Waterfalls was actually cheaper than the bus fare to Bariloche. I got a flight for the following morning and had to track back to El Calafate to catch it.