Day 531 - Rio Gallegos, Argentina
Rio Gallegos
Our bus swings into Rio Gallegos on the wide, but utterly empty four-way highway and then we arrive at the bus station. Hector walks right up to me, his great mane of dark, long hair waving in the wind. He’s promised to take us back to our digs for the night. It was the only accommodations we could find in all the town. Hector owns the house where we will be staying. He calls it “Mi Refugio”-My Hideaway. He hand-built the house and designed it with a gaucho touch.
We pile us and our bags into his Chevy and swing back on the same road that brought us in. It turns out that our place is located on the periphery of the new homes that we saw earlier as we drove into the town. Our hacienda is not as new, but it is fine. Living room, tiny but working kitchen, bed, even a little sunroom. We are surrounded by nothing. After eating some crackers and ham, I unlock the iron gates and walk beyond our small and dusty yard. Gravel street, and except for an old house here and there, nothing but prairie and a mile or so away, the new, but empty homes. Walking among the gravel streets, I don’t see a single human, but a good 12 dogs - some of which gather in a cluster and begin barking aggressively. I back off and head home to a sunset that holds me immobile as I watch the big orange orb slowly swing beneath the scrubby horizon.
Back at Mi Refugio there is little internet service. Maybe this is as it should be in a hideaway. Sometimes chat is possible, but moving photos and video is maddeningly slow.
Can’t say much for the water pressure and trickling shower, but the tiny house is warm and cozy as we listen to the wind whistle and the dogs howl and finally slip into a deep asleep.
