In these past few days, a terrible bout of depression has overtaken me. I think it’s due to a variety of things: having put the entire Antarctica trip on my credit card, being stuck in an expensive place with no easy way out, loving someone here with no opportunity to have anything meaningful, and having to pay through the nose for my flight out of South America. A one-way flight from Buenos Aires to Auckland set me back almost US$1,600. I tried to think of a creative way to sidestep it back to New Zealand, perhaps flying to Spain and then from Italy via Dubai. Even though it would have saved me about $400, it would have been a rigourous trip and I would have been extremely exhausted at the end of it. Ushuaia is very much like Darwin: it’s an expensive place that’s far away from everywhere (though with a much more spectacular setting). Paulo nor Marcia could host me for the past three nights, and since then I’ve stayed at two different hostels. Paula, the manager of Refugio Mochileros, correctly guessed I have Asperger’s since she used to work as a nurse. Flying from Ushuaia to Buenos Aires would've set me back almost $300 so my only option is to hitchhike the long journey north. I stopped at Freestyle Adventure Travel to give Sarah a hug goodbye, and then from there at about 1 PM, my long journey north began. Where would I end up tonight? With the depression I’ve been dealing with, will I even make it through the day?
Leaving the snow-filled mountains of Ushuaia behind, I’d be picked up by a man named Genaro, driving to Rio Gallegos two hours away. Argentina must sell more hot-water flasks per capita than any other country, and most shops or service stations have a hot water machine, either for free or a small fee (about 2 or 4 pesos). Argentinos must have that mate whilst driving in the dark. Though I got a short way, I still have thousands of kilometres before I reach Buenos Aires. My flight doesn’t leave for another 16 days, so I don’t exactly have to hurry up and get there but dealing with severe depression makes it hard to enjoy the journey. All bundled up with a sad heart, two more lifts would get me to the border. Contrary to belief, the border at San Sebastian isn't the world's southernmost border...there are other crossings further south in Tierra del Fuego.
Two girls and I would both be picked up by a man who was driving to Punta Arenas. The girls were lucky as that's where they were going but I still had a ways to go to get to Puerto Natales. Tierra del Fuego and much of Patagonia, with the risk of severe wind, heavy rain, or both, are not places you want to be stuck late at night with no lighting or shelter. Hours after crossing the border and with light getting dimmer, I was dropped at the fork in the road. Unlike in New Zealand, there isn't a light at turnoffs so vehicles will likely whiz by out here and not even see you. It was getting dark and it was very, very windy. Not far from the corner there was a bus shelter where I theoretically could have rolled out my sleeping mat and fallen asleep but when I went inside, it had loads of rubbish and cigarette butts to go with a choking stench of urine; therefore, you couldn't have paid me to sleep in there. I was still more than 200 km from Puerto Natales and I was actually amazed I made it this far today despite leaving so late. I started walking whilst the severe wind battered me but I figured it wouldn't do me any good so I returned to where I originally stood. Carrying more gear than usual makes things more difficult as well. What I needed in the face of depression and darkness was some magic; a few dozen metres away a ute pulled up into a dirt lot. Three guys got out to secure two dirt bikes in the back of their ute, and I had to muster up my best "por favor" as it could have been my only chance to make it out tonight. When they said they were going to Puerto Natales I asked if they could take me, but their only free seat was filled with stuff they purchased earlier. With my heart sinking, I used my best Spanish and explained how I'd be stranded if they couldn't take me with them. It turned out they're three men in the Chilean army. I watched as they pulled stuff out of the ute and secured it with a bungee cord amongst the dirt bikes and then had me get in. It wasn't the most comfortable ride with my backpack on my lap but safe from the wind I was content. I didn't find a CouchSurfer in Puerto Natales so I had to stay at a backpackers. We didn't make it to Puerto Natales until almost 3 AM and I did well today, having hitchhiked more than 750 km despite not getting on the road until around 1 PM.
Buenos Aires is more than 4,000 km from Ushuaia and I still have a lot to see in between, but I'm content with my progress after today. Safe and sound in Puerto Natales, now I needed to find my tired and depressed self a place to rest my head. The army guys dropped me at a hostel they recommended but nobody answered the door, and when I went to another one I was told they could only book me for one night. With all the effort to get here and with the depression I'm facing, I want to stay at least two nights and not bounce around from place to place. Around the corner was Casa Lili: a cute hostel with a touch of hippie vibe and all types of backpackers, both Chilean and foreigner. The worker was a bit annoyed that I woke him but things would be alright. I put my stuff away, made a cuppa, and did the best I could in the face of what I'm going through.
I was originally planning to walk the "W" in Torres del Paine but I don't really feel up for it. What is going on with me? When it comes to depression, I feel the only thing you can do is just ride it out; it's not a matter of being on pills. Depression is like a stormy sea...life isn't all smooth sailing. I just hope this violently stormy sea passes real, real soon.
