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Woop Woop fellas! How are you? Coming up with another travel storytelling!

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On the list of insane stories I've had on this world of ours, the one that follows has got to be among the most delightful and non-expected experiences of all.

After a ten-hour boat trip from Puerto Cisnes to Chiloé Island (Chile), I endured a succession of swampy days on the road until I got to Villa Traful (Argentina).

Check the Villa Traful episode HERE

Needless to say that my poor carcass hadn’t seen showering… for 10 days to be more precise. Ten disgusting days without showering! How would I solve the issue in the middle of northern Patagonia? Check the story out!

This post lacks the sexy photos and I apologize for that. You wouldn't like to see my butt anyway...

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First ride out of Traful dropped me off at an intersection between two dust-covered vicinal roads surrounded by brownish peaks, native bushes and young pine trees ― as it generally is in Patagonia.

I watched the driver take off and, as soon as the dust settled, nothing but birds sang around me. In Argentina, when the talk is about rural areas, it’s indeed isolated places, where the only cars circulating are local farmers, at most. Trouble. How am I going to find a ride here? ― I thought.

At 1500 hour, a scorching sun glittered on the waters of a turquoise-coloured shallow river that meandered below an old single-lane steel bridge. Sweat dripped out and soaked the t-shirt I wore, a nasty mess I must say. This is the chance. After ten days without showering I knew precisely the solution for the misery.

The steady burble of running water rippled and barely covered some round boulders that formed the basin. Where the river seemed to be deeper, the bottom was visible as in a glass. This is safe, thank God. Excited for a bath, I slid down the bank and then under the bridge, where nobody would spot my white skinny butt.

In a heroic move I dove at once, expecting the water to be freezing, but after the first breathing shock the heart rate normalized (cannot say the same from southern Patagonian waters though, when months back I almost froze my nuts attempting to bathe). What a relief! The first time I swam in months, even better when I really needed some cleaning. I must’ve lost a few kilos after removing the muck out of the carcass, for the desperation of those teeny fish pinching my skin.

Butt photo not found!

Amazing how swimming whets the appetite, for which the solution came in a can of Jurel lost inside the backpack. Jurel is one nasty-looking fish stuffed into a can in a single grotesque piece. At first glance, the brute slice containing skin, fins and everything, exhales a nauseating smell. What else to expect from an industrialized meal?

Although, if passed on the sickening test, the cleaning of those ugly slices reveal a white dryish meat of superb flavour when combined with chili, olive oil and bread. Or was it my hunger distorting reality? I don’t know... as a matter of fact, I guzzled it while licking my finger tips, after all, for once I had something that was not tuna fish and pasta, or soggy rice.

Clean and well-rested, I was ready to continue the Patagonian adventure.

And that is how you solve a showering problem on the road.

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Thank you for reading this story, and stay tunned for the up coming book!

If you liked this post, please, consider leaving your upvote for a hot coffee.

~Love ya all

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Disclaimer: The author of this post is a convict broke backpacker, who has travelled more than 10.000 km hitchhiking and more than 5.000 km cycling. Following him may cause severe problems of wanderlust and inquietud. You've been warned.

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