I was running out of time in my 3-month journey in South America, and there was still so much I wanted to see: notably Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and then I somehow had to get to Bogota, Colombia, since that’s where my flight back home left from.

I got to the outskirts of Santiago de Chile where I started hitchhiking towards the pass that would take me to Argentina. Somebody picked me up and then took me as far as the Casa de Aduana (border control) on the Chilean side of the border.

I went inside, as is standard procedure, to get my passport checked before continuing on, but we were notified that the pass was being shut down due to a blizzard that was setting in.

Just as I got there, they decided to shut down, and I wasn’t sure what I should do. I had some water and food with me, and without any better idea of what to do, I simply decided to just remain sitting in the waiting area. I figured I could stretch my supplies out a day or two, and I would just chill there. They obviously weren’t so pleased with that decision, and they told me that I needed to leave. I pleaded with them, telling them that I had hitchhiked there and had nowhere else to go. They ultimately relented and informed me that they would be staying there as well since some crew had to man the building even when they weren’t letting people through.

It actually worked out pretty well, and they had stacks of mattresses in the basement for emergencies, and I was told that I could sleep in there. I think, to date, that is the only place where I have slept on more than 10 mattresses at once. Other than that, I hung out with the crew a bit and we watched a lot of TV together although the power kept getting cut for some odd reason. They even cooked food for me, which was nice as it tasted better than the dried goods I had and I didn’t need to use up my supplies.

I also had a terrible experience from drinking water. I had been using my water filter practically every time I drank water just to be on the safe side up until that point. While hanging out, I had noticed that a lot of them were drinking from a water cooler, and I foolishly assumed that it was safe for me to drink. Big mistake. I won’t get into too many details, but let’s just say liquids were coming out from everywhere possible. A lot of toilets don’t have proper toilet seats on them in South America, and the cold porcelain is not very comfortable when all that is happening. What really made it terrible, though, was the fact that toilet paper is not often a given in a bathroom and you are expected to bring your own. I had unfortunately run out, and none was to be found in the bathroom I was in. I was a mess, and I had no easy way of cleaning myself (or the toilet…) up. I ended up basically sponge bathing myself in the sink before venturing outside, wandering in the deep snow from building to building looking for a bathroom that might happen to have a small cache of toilet paper. Luckily, I did find one and I went back and cleaned myself and the bathroom up as much as possible. It was terrible, and I will never make the mistake of assuming my unconditioned stomach can handle local water again.

Other than that one mishap, the entire experience was rather positive. The crew was nice, gave me a bed, and fed me while we waited out the blizzard. I even worked for them for a little bit to “earn my keep,” and I simply sorted some paperwork for them.

After 3 or so days, the blizzard had relented leaving more than a meter of snow in its wake. The roads were plowed and then the traffic that had been waiting for half a week came surging through to get over. One of the guys from the border control kindly drove me over to the Argentinian border control.

At the other side of the mountain, I walked through customs without any issues. I asked a few people if they would give me a ride, but nobody volunteered, so I started hitchhiking past the border control building. It was cold and snowing, and it took a surprisingly long time for someone to pick me up, so I kept walking to stay warm.

Someone did eventually pick me up, though, and then took me to Mendoza, the next city.

I didn’t really visit anywhere notable in Argentina, unfortunately. As mentioned, I didn’t have too much time left, so I needed to hitchhike across Argentina as quick as possible. One day I would like to go back and visit a bit more thoroughly. That being said, I didn’t lack any interesting experiences.

I kept hitchhiking as much as possible, and I encountered many kind people along the way. One guy gave me a bit of money to buy food at a gas station. Another time, the guy took me out to dinner to show me what a “true Argentinian dinner” was like (it was a LOT of meat). Tucked amongst all the nice people, I did end up encountering one total creep.

While hitchhiking close to some city, I was picked up by an older guy who was driving in the direction I needed to travel. At one point near some roundabout, he pulled over at a pullout next to the highway. I didn’t really think much of it since it was broad daylight and right next to the busy road, but I was confused why he stopped. He kind of rambled about some random things for a quick minute, and then he smacked his lips a couple times and asked, “Quieres sexo?” (“Do you want to have sex?”). He was some old guy who was being incredibly creepy, and I wasn’t even sure how to respond. I played it off in that I didn’t understand what the word “sexo” meant, but he persisted. He did the classic thing where you make a hole with your thumb and pointer-finger and then put his finger on his other hand through it. Since we were stopped, I kindly informed him that I was done with the ride, and right there was where I wanted to get out. My backpack was luckily in my lap and not in the back of the car or anything so I simply opened the door and got out while making sure my knife was accessible in case he tried anything. He didn’t even get out of his car, though, and simply drove off instead, which was fine with me.

Later, as I was maybe about two-thirds of the way to Foz do Iguaçu on the Argentina–Brazil border, I was picked up by another hitchhiker. It was late at night and I was walking along the highway while it was raining. A trucker pulled over and let me in. That alone was a nice relief from the rain I had been walking in. We stopped at a gas station at one point and he bought me some food and a beer. We resumed driving, and he ended up asking me if I wanted to sleep at his place. He even called his wife and asked if it was okay. It seemed extremely fishy, and I was worried that I would end up chopped up and in a freezer, but he did seem genuinely nice and I did hear a woman’s voice on the other end of the phone. I again double-checked that my knife was in my pocket, and I agreed to see what happened. His family was really nice. His wife and son were excited to have me there, and his son in particular wanted to show me all his soccer trophies before we ended up playing FIFA together on the PlayStation. I was given a nice hot meal and a soft bed to sleep in (at that point, it had been almost a week since I had left the border control, so it was a welcome change from sleeping outside). We don’t talk often, but every now and then we still message each other on Facebook. I was then given a ride to the main highway the next morning where I continued hitchhiking toward Brazil.

After another day or 2, I reached Puerto Iguazu, the city near Iguazu on the Argentinian side of the border. There I got to see the biggest waterfall system in the world.

I then went to Foz do Iguaçu, the city on the Brazilian side.

I also visited the Itaipu Dam, which is the second biggest dam in the world (at least that’s what they told me, although I don’t see anything online to back that up), but first in terms of energy production (and that claim does seem to be true).

When I was there, the floodgates were not open, so it wasn’t as epic looking as this.

After visiting the falls for a couple days, I then took a 24-hour bus to Rio de Janeiro. The bus took much longer than I would have expected, but it’s farther than I had anticipated. It was also quite expensive, and I think I spent close to $200 on the bus.

Once I arrived in Rio, it was already late and I looked around for a hostel. I found a few, and with the intent of saving some more money, I asked if I could do any work around the place in exchange for a bed. I have heard of other people getting that, but my offer was ultimately denied so I had to pay for a hostel, which isn’t so cheap in Rio.

I spent a few days in Rio just walking around and checking out the sights.

I went to some marine culture center, and they had a submarine that I got to check out.

 

 

 

I also found a really cool geological museum full of awesome rocks and a couple dinosaur exhibits, but, unfortunately, Google Images doesn’t have many of the photos.

While walking around Rio, I had a small day pack with my wallet, camera, water bottle, and any other small items. I wanted to splash around in the water while at the beach, but I didn’t know what to do with my bag. I ended up just leaving it on the beach while keeping an eagle’s eye on it, and that worked out fine. After playing around in the water and sun for a bit, I decided to just sit on the beach and relax. I didn’t mean to, but I ended up dozing off with my bag next to me. When I woke up, it was gone. I frantically looked around and asked others around me if they had seen anything, but nobody had been paying particular attention.

I went to the tourist police and they helped me file a report. I was a little confused and asked them if they were going to recover my lost items. They said no, and then I kind of incredulously asked them why we were doing this paperwork then. He said he would give me the paperwork in case I needed to prove it was stolen, like for travel insurance. I didn’t have any insurance or reason to prove my stuff was stolen, so I just threw the paper away. Another guy there also had his stuff swiped, including his family’s passports, and they needed to fly out in the next few days, so I felt bad for him.

My wallet was stolen, and that had some cash in it. I luckily had another backup credit card that I had left in the hostel along with my passport, so I could at least manage. The real bummer was that my camera with all my photos was stolen, and I never got those photos. The pictures I have posted of my South-America trip up through Chile were uploaded as I was traveling, but there were many other photos. All photos in this post other than the 2 of me that one of the guys in the border control emailed me were found on Google Images.

I was pretty upset and didn’t feel like doing anything, so I just moped around in the hostel for a day or so. I ended up meeting some of the other travelers in there, and we went out together a bit.

One of the places we went to was the Friday night Lapa.

Every Friday there’s a huge outdoor party near the aqueduct, and a couple of us went to check it out. We didn’t do too much other than walk around and people watch. We were approached by a group of younger people, likely no older than 18. I think it was about 3 guys and 2 girls, and one of the girls apparently wanted to kiss me. One of the guys came up to me and told me so and encouraged me to kiss her. I thought it was an odd request, but he tried to reassure me by telling me that he had kissed her, another guy had as well, and the list went on. She finally approached me and pretty much told me the same. They weren’t looking for money or anything; I guess it was just how they partied? It was pretty bizarre and I ended up deciding not to make out with her.

The next night, some of the others in the hostel and I went to a samba school. It was well in the favelas, and we were a little nervous walking at night through there, but we had safety in numbers as there were about 10 of us.

It wasn’t quite choreographed like this, but I am pretty sure that is an actual picture of the interior where we were at. We had a good time, and we were shown how to do some basic dance moves. I stuck out again as a foreigner, and quite a few people wanted to dance with me including an older lady who really seemed to enjoy dancing with me.

Time was ticking, and I had less than a week before my flight back home. I didn’t want to fly to Bogota just to fly out immediately, so I caught the next flight to Colombia to have some time there.

I had a host from Couchsurfing there, and he was nice, although he was at work most of the time, so, again, I ended up walking around quite a bit by myself.

One of the first places I visited was the Gold Museum, which was quite incredible.

I also visited the Botero Museum, full of Fernando Botero’s works. He is a Colombian artist with a truly interesting style.

Like in Lima, I got jumped by some punks. The city map I had made it look like there was a huge highway leading from the general downtown area toward where my host lived, and I thought I would be safe enough walking home at night along the road, but it was more desolate than I had anticipated. While walking down the road, 4 or 5 guys came running out of the darkness and started trying to drag me away. I put up a fight and basically just threw myself down on the ground in the middle of the highway. I kept pushing and kicking as they tried to drag me away, and after a few moments, some cars came up and stopped in front of us. Eventually some people including a police officer got out and chased them off.

I got a little cut on my hand from one of their knives, and although I didn’t have much on me, I wanted to keep my last $20 because I had already been robbed and didn’t want to lose the last of my cash which is why I resisted. The police officer asked if I was okay, and then asked how I was going home. I showed him where I lived on the map, and he kind of told me to be careful getting there. A kind of odd silence ensued where he did not offer to take me in his car… Thankfully, another couple with a car piqued up and offered me a ride, and I gratefully accepted.

The next day, I resumed checking out Bogota without any further incidents.

I think this was one of my favorite churches I saw in South America just because it had a really cool design and color scheme.

I hiked up the Monserrate Hill, which is a specific peak on the mountain range that straddles the east side of the city.

I had heard many good things about the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquira, a nearby town, so I decided to check it out. I took the bus to the town and went to the halite mine where the cathedral was built into.

A guide took us down 200 meters and explained how it was a halite mine that had people in there for so long that they decided to build a cathedral into the mine itself.

The guide said the walls were all salt, and that you could even lick the walls and would realize how salty it was. I thought he was joking, but I licked the walls anyways. They were indeed salty!

I then went back to Bogota and hung out with my host. We went out to a salsa club. I had no idea what I was doing, but I danced with a few people and had a good time.

My time in South America was up, and it was time for me to fly back home to the United States. I had some difficulties getting to the airport, but I had left myself enough buffer time, so it wasn’t really an issue. The airport did charge you for leaving the from there, though, and that was pretty annoying since it wasn’t factored into the ticket price. It left me in a bit of a quagmire since I basically had no money left at that point due to being robbed and only being allowed to pull out so much money on my credit card. I don’t really recall how I resolved that, but suffice to say, I managed to resolve it and was allowed to fly home.

My trip in South America was amazing. I spent 3 months traveling around, which was not nearly enough to see all the places that I wanted to visit. I learned a lot about improvising and doing things on my own, the generosity of others, and just about myself in general.

I would love to go back someday and spend some more time in places I didn’t quite get to experience fully, notably Argentina and I would like to hang out in Patagonia.