Having entered Argentina coming from Bolivia (Villazón), we arrived to La Quiaca. From there on we’d hitchhike to Buenos Aires (my friend) and Mendoza (me, later crossing to Chile). So after passing the border we asked around for the best spot to get a ride. We were then informed there was a military control post on the road, something like 20 minutes away walking from there. We chatted with this truck driver who was resting. He invited us for ‘yerbamate‘ (read about ‘mate’ here) and cookies. It was his last journey before he’d quit. He told us it had already been too many years on the road, away from his wife and the kids. He was already feeling nostalgic about the future lack of that very specific living, and the friends he made during all those years driving the truck.
After we said thanks-&-goodbye to the truck driver, we got to the military post. Talking to one of the officers if it’d be alright with them, we were asked to flag the ride a bit away from the control, so we wouldn’t interfere with their job. But we were lucky enough, for most vehicles would eventually pass that way and we’d end up getting a ride probably not even 30 minutes later.