Day 8 – Friday March 5: De-lights on the highway
We leave Lago Mascardi behind in the morning to start another day of just over 40km, this time to an actual campsite alongside the highway at El Foyel, a sweet little town on a hilltop. We cover the distance at a good pace and spend time unpacking tents, selecting tent sites, taking showers in a cramped and (some would say) déclassé cement shower. There’s ritual washing of jerseys and hanging them out to dry in the afternoon sun. David and Dario and Anibal make us lunch under the canopy of trees. No worries mate. And beers all around. Despite the relatively easy day, napping happens.
More beers at seven, basking in the declining sun around a table in front of our little restaurant/bar with a view that goes forever. Dinner at eight inside; during dessert we’re interrupted by a friendly local, a lean graying handsome man with overbright eyes, well in his cups. He claims to be a helicopter pilot and the owners help him fly off. For the rest of us it’s time to return to our sleeping pads in the tents. A little rocky, but we need rest for tomorrow, a big day.
During the pitch dark night the Southern Cross shines like a string of diamonds and the Milky Way swirls off into infinity. Who wouldn’t be happy to be here?
