Letters From Latin America

The days pass really slowly. We wake up much later now and it’s much too cold to get any work done outside before noon. I guess when there’s no reason to rush about, time chills out with you too.

It’s only my fourth day on this middle of nowhere land with no electricity and no phone signal (not that I have data anyway), and I’ve already been left to my own means. No one else is here.

After a 26-hour bus ride from Córdoba, I arrived at the tail end of the Easter holidays, to a fully booked guesthouse. That was the first and last I saw of guests.

It all started with my brilliant plan to come to Córdoba, Argentina. I got so pumped thinking about being in civilisation but when it came time to start my 1,220+ kilometre hitchhiking journey, I panicked.

I took up a month-long Workaway job at a hostel in Punta del Diablo, a tiny fishing village that got touristy after getting a shoutout on the Lonely Planet. I only ventured out once and I went by foot.

You’d think I’d have gotten used to trading my comforts for the unknown...

Stories of the girl who hitchhiked from Sweden to Malaysia were all over the internet. But Petrina is more than just that.