Жарияланды: 27.10.2018
This morning I was able to ride with the people I had dinner with last night to a curious place located slightly higher and towards the Chilean border: Puente del Inca, a natural bridge described by Charles Darwin in his travel records.
This natural bridge is a geological phenomenon: deposits of calcium carbonate and iron carbonate formed it, as hot thermal water comes out of the mountain here and cools down. The Rio Mendoza has drilled through it. Unfortunately, entering this natural wonder is now prohibited and there is even a ranger who watches over it. Since I couldn't see a bus in my direction and I wanted to walk anyway, I march downhill on the abandoned track of the legendary Transandean Railway. The pace remains leisurely due to the distance between the sleepers. The landscape of the valley is unusual and fascinating. Barely any vegetation, so the green is missing, instead there are red and yellowish rock formations, snow-covered peaks, and a condor silently circling above. The rock formation 'Penitentes' reminded the Spanish explorers of a row of penitents, known from the Semana Santa in Spain, hence the name. I cross a narrow railway bridge. Between the wooden sleepers, there is a gaping abyss. Only further down did I realize that I am coming out on the wrong side of the river. But there is no bridge in sight. The Rio Mendoza doesn't carry so much water at the moment, but it is still 6 to 8 meters wide. The current is strong between the boulders. I have to carry my camera equipment, phone, and netbook across dry land. I explore the riverbed for a passable spot. My experience kayaking rivers and the knowledge of technical fluid mechanics from my engineering studies come in handy: it's better to choose a spot where the current is even and there are fewer whirlpools. Shoes off, unzip my pants. Tie the shoes together with the laces and sling them over my shoulder, secure the camera bag to my body. It's already very refreshing, but I have experienced colder rivers. After all, it is meltwater from the highest mountain in the Americas, the 6961m high Aconcagua. Step by step, I feel my way forward in the murky water. The water is already knee-deep. There is no turning back! Proceeding cautiously. Only 2 meters to go and suddenly I stumble a bit - waving my arms, I manage to regain my balance and finally, I made it! I breathe a sigh of relief. If I had slipped, it would have been unthinkable, not so much because of me - I enjoy swimming - but because of my equipment! The blog would have come to an end. My feet dried quickly in the wind and sun.
Then, reluctantly, I had to hitchhike from Los Penitentes with my full luggage. The hotel staff said a bus would come in 4 hours. No choice, stick out thumb! I remembered my experience hitchhiking: sunglasses are not good - look people in the eye. Wave wildly at buses, but unfortunately no success. I already took out my travel reading and started to read. Many trucks passed, but I couldn't imagine them picking me up. After about 45 minutes and 5 minutes after taking off my sunglasses, a truck driver took pity on me. He had taken a bathroom break further up ahead. The giant truck rolls slowly towards me, a friendly smile. A semi-trailer truck from Argentina, transporting bananas from Chile to Buenos Aires. We talk about where I come from and where I'm going, about his German truck, technology, regulations, weather, the country, and the people. Curiously, he asks me questions and I answer willingly, as I am very glad to be given a ride. A confident feeling in the cab of such a big truck. The driver is easy-going and highly experienced. He smokes a cigarette, empty coffee cups on the dashboard. He makes the trip twice a month. Then comes the warning: there is a police control up ahead 'no hable Espagnol' (now I shouldn't speak Spanish). The policewoman asks about the cargo and the strange passenger. Then she also opens the passenger door: if everything is alright and I respond as agreed with a gibberish. If I am going to Mendoza, I nod. Everything went well.
I let the day end in my pre-booked cabin - a cozy log cabin in Uspallata, while a warm storm whips around it. An improperly secured tin roof is annoying. Tomorrow, finally and definitively, I'm going to Chile! I already have my bus ticket.