Ode To Olivia
A Story
Many things were going wrong this morning, a series of events I have already explained in another story called “A Hard Day’s Travel”. However, to honor the meeting of this dear travel companion, I must tell another version of the story: one that attempts to better highlight this serendipitous meeting, for it remains one of the most wonderful, unexpected ways through which I have gained a friend.
The events of this particular morning boil down to having pockets filled with Chilean Pesos, in Argentina. I had no money and needed cash to pay the entrance free of a National Park I would be visiting in the next hour.
The day so far had offered me two empty ATMs and a currency exchange window with a sign that read “11am- 5pm”, it was 8:40am. Revisiting the woman who had sold me the bus ticket the previous day had been futile. I had asked for her help and received a stern, finite and unwavering “no”. Still, I clung desperately to a notion within me, I could solve this problem. A notion not born of confidence or ego to be clear, more so led by a strong feeling that there was a solution, I just had to figure it out.
The unfriendly woman added, “…and if you don’t have the entrance fee I won’t let you on the bus.”
“I’ll figure it out!” I said over my shoulder as I ran to the bus. The door laying open, I ran up the stairs and dropped into the first seat I reached just behind the driver’s chair. I had 15 minutes before the bus would depart, so 15 minutes to figure this out.
I could surrender and retreat back to the hostel for a relaxing day of coffee drinking and writing. How comfortable that would be and no one would know of this snafu.
However, I had not only pre-purchased the ticket to the national park, but I was supposed to leave this town on an evening bus. It wasn’t worth revisiting the unfriendly ticket lady to inquire about postponing my two tickets, I had a feeling the answer would again be “no”. Surrender now would mean buying the tickets over again, plus another night at the hostel, it would cost me.
This was the first time I had purchased bus tickets preemptively. The previous evening I had arrived from Puerto Natales and figured since I had a plan for the next 24 hours and was already at the bus station, the place where one buys tickets, I figured I might as well buy ahead. “I probably won’t do that again” I thought.
All the while, as my mind replayed the day’s events, I had this sense of knowing how I was going to solve the problem. It was going to be uncomfortable, but it was my final option.
I pried myself away from the safety of looking out the window and as subtly as I could, scanned the bus. There was a man sitting near the back, a woman a few rows back from him and then two younger woman sitting right across from me in the other front seat. I looked back out the window: they were European, probably around my age, they seemed kind. I would ask them.
I explained the happenings of my morning, letting myself indulge more details than necessary to delay, building up to what would be a most uncomfortable conclusion. Mid speech, likely grasping why I was sharing the story of my day so far, one of the women looked away from me and back out of her window. She had mid length dark red hair, green eyes, and had looked quite nervous since I began talking. I understood, money is just inherently uncomfortable.
“Sure. I can loan you the money” said the other woman. She was blond and blue eyed, told me they were Dutch and friends from home traveling together. I couldn’t thank her enough and gabbed on about how her kindness had really saved my day.
It was Olivia who paid me this kindness.
We met up a few days later in the next village along the Patagonian Gringo Trail, El Chaltén. We drank craft beers in the evenings at a little bar with music discussing love and life. We hiked out to the Fitz Roy and we bought kilos of cherries piled high in the flat bed of a man’s truck.
On a day hike Olivia told me that when she was my age, 24, her boyfriend was diagnosed with cancer and died months later. I can recall her saying how in an instant life turned so serious, so heavy. A reminder to cherish the freedom gifted by health and the lightness I can enjoy having never experienced such tragic, sorrowing loss.
One of my favorite things about life is the unknown, the serendipity, when something seemingly negative turns out to be a great adventure or an introduction. I never would have guessed that having to ask a stranger for money would gift me a beloved travel partner. It was the best type of reward for speaking up, using my voice to ask despite discomfort.
Together, Olivia and I would have ourselves quite the adventure. We would travel from the border crossing called Chile Chico by thumb, hitchhiking along the Carratera Austral. Not even a landslide cutting off the only road tracing Chile’s long and narrow tail could interrupt our grand adventure, we ended up on a free government ferry traveling up the fjords. I had met Olivia due to her generosity and hitchhiking over 1000 km in Chile was made possible by countless acts of kindness.