At 5 am, my alarm went off. I jumped out of bed and had just enough time to brush my teeth and grab the backpack I’d prepared the night before. Camille showed up at the door to my hostel 20 minutes later. We unlocked the rental bikes and pedaled into the dark dusty streets towards the main bridge out of town.
The day before we’d agreed to meet Ross and Louis at the bridge at 5:30. We also said that we would wait no more than 10 minutes for each other, so when Camille and I reached a river crossing with no bridge, we realized we had to hurry back to catch the others before they left. We had all only met the day before by coincidence so there was no loyalty to wait for the others,
People often ask me if I get lonely traveling by myself, but I am never alone when traveling. Almost every night ends in a hostel filled with people traveling alone. You share stories of your travels, how to live a life of travel, and sometimes you even travel together for awhile if you have similar itineraries. Of course, it’s important that you have similar dispositions, but as independent travelers, it’s easy to separate if you want to follow your own path.
I met Camille in Huacachina, Peru, and we quickly realized that we shared similar travel styles. Before we could make any plans, however, she met a couple fellow French speakers and decided to head to Arequipa with them. I headed to Cusco since my plan was to do the north first, but we kept in touch so we could advise each other about the destinations that each of us would later explore.
About a week and a half later, Camille sent a message asking what I was doing. I said I was on a bus to Chile. She exclaimed that she was on a bus to Chile! 24 hours later, we met up again in San Pedro de Atacama. When I found her there, I said, “I hate this place”. She said “me too.”
We decided we should head to northern Argentina as soon as possible but that we should first rent mountain bikes and ride into the desert the next day to watch the sun rise in the famous Valley of the Moon. While walking down the street to the bike rental shop, we ran into Ross and Louis. We’d met Ross just a couple hours before while eating lunch at one of the overpriced San Pedro cafes, and he’d just met Louis at the tourist information booth.
We all lit up when we found we had the same plan. Not only that, they were renting from the same bike shop we were so we all went to pick up our bikes together, and that was when we made our plan to meet at the bridge. The night time journey into the desert was made interesting as we got to know each other, and in no time we’d cycled to the highest point in the valley.
We locked our bikes and scaled a ridge from which to watch the sun pique over the horizon. Unfortunately, Louis, who had told us what time the sun would rise, had based his estimation on his experience in Bolivia, the country he’d just left but not realized was an hour behind. We sat for awhile as we watched the stars move until finally the dimmer switch was rotated and the sky began to illuminate.
Even though there were some clouds obscuring the horizon, we all enjoyed the experience and managed to ride the entire valley, returning just a little after daytime temperatures became unsuitable for cycling. We exchanged contact information so that we could share photos and parted ways.
In the morning while waiting for Camille, I met Lianne who was leaving early to catch the bus to Argentina. She shared the opinion we had of Atacama, and I told her about our idea to go to Argentina and rent a car instead of paying for a tour. She said that she and a friend were considering doing the same, so in the few minutes that we talked, we exchanged information and pledged to talk further when we were all in Argentina. In fact, as Camille and I waited for the bus to Argentina the next morning, Louis showed up. It turns out we’d all booked the same bus.
One of the benefits to traveling together is the ability to share expenses, something we took advantage of upon our arrival to Jujuy. Apparently the local buses were on strike that day, and since the bus station was far from town, we were able to share a cab.
Louis decided to join us at the hostel since he didn’t have any previous arrangements. He and Camille headed off to the market to get supplies for their dinner, but I ate an oversized sandwich I’d bought the day before. I got in touch with Liane, who said her friend wouldn’t be joining her which turned out to be perfect since Louis indicated his interest in renting a car together.
The next day, the four of us headed off into the desert with the ability to make as many stops as we liked. While taking the bus often exposes you to beautiful scenery, there are many times when you’d like to get out and experience it. We spent the next couple days doing just that, occasionally taking the car places that would be better on foot but certainly would not have been accessible by bus.A
We were all so pleased with our adventures that we decided to have a big feast on our last night. Louis and I shelled peas and chopped onions, while Camille and Liane prepared a pasta using other ingredients they’d procured at the market. We toasted to our good fortune and went to bed, getting some of the best sleep we’d had in days.
The next day brought another parting. Camille and Lianne were headed north to Bolivia, and Louis and I south to Salta. I expect to run into them again, but if not, I’m sure I will meet others with whom I’ll congeal for awhile.
Something in particular I’d like to note since many of my readers are my age is that I am 25 years older than any of those I spent the past week with. There is nothing to fear in traveling alone, whatever your age. Travel transcends many boundaries. What’s essential is a positive attitude and a desire to experience new things, sometimes together and other times alone.