Last night we sorted through the rucksack again separating stuff we could leave for the planned walk. Liz wanted to go down to the school before we set off - just in case. I was nervous I knew that the authorities would be blindly giving out promises (and hope) that never became reality.

When we got to the relatively quiet school we started to look for someone to give us the news. The Red Cross were no where to be seen, the army seemed to be in charge getting into all kinds of dangerous activities like boiling water for tea and coffee and making a new list of people still here.

As most people payed to get out yesterday the school was a lot more pleasant than usual. There were still the hard core people sleeping in the gym but it smelt a lot better than yesterday. I had a feeling that the people there were happy just living, getting free accomodation and food.

The Red Cross did turn up a bit later they made an anouncement that the current negociations meeting would decide our fate. A meer three hours later it went quiet the first sign that an anouncement was being made. It was from the Army, we had two options: go to Punta Arenas airport in Chile or get a lift to the first baricades where we could walk the 21km to the border and then another 3km to the Argentinian border. If we went to Punta Arenas we could get flights to other cities in Chile but the availiability of flights was very limited and there were also rumours of the strike spreading to those cities anyway. The cost also put the nail in the coffin for this option. There was an implied third option: to stay put, but the army wanted to play this down. Staying was definately not a good idea, as far as I know only one couple decided to do this, there were a lot more troops and I felt that they were planning to take action soon. They certainly wanted us out pronto, trapped tourists complicate things for them.

So walking was the only real option and it would enable us to keep to the plan. Getting a lift to the first barricade would save a few km of walking but it would still be a long 21km walk with heavy bags. They said that the bus would be going in an hour but we didn't hang around. Liz separated the stuff in the rucksack yet again and gave me the items to take back to the hostel - perhaps we will be reunited if things sort themselves out here.

Back at the hostel items were dumped, I kicked the usual people off the Internet in order to send out a message on our intentions. The few people still here paid a lot to get a boat to Puerto Montt - the next most likely place to join the strike. I posted a quick message to inform of where we were going and rushed back. Despite being well within the hour, I saw Liz running down the road - the bus was about to go.

There was an army truck and two buses with Red Cross signs on the windows. Some locals waved us goodbye, I think they have started to realise that life will get a lot harder for them without the tourists spending money. We passed a few backpackers that were already on the long walk - the bus didn't stop for them.

We stopped well short and out of sight of the barricades. Even the Army didn't want to risk being seen giving us lifts. We walked to the barricades on mass at the armies request. The road was deserted and lined with masses of the all too familiar black flags, the number of flags gave you the warning effect. The barricades consisted of lorries parked across the road with some makeshift shelters for the protesters. The first people we passed just stood and stared, I didn't have any bad feelings infact I felt sorry for them. The core protesters were the poor people faced with fuel increases in a cold wind swept land. They were however very misguided, effectively shooting themselves in both feet by scaring off tourists. I waved at them to indicate that I didn't hate them and by sympathizing increased our changes of being let through. Road blocks here are what they do when they are upset about something. Ten years ago when we were travelling across Argentina the currency collapsed resulting in road blocks everywhere. Then we just had enough time to avoid the blocks and escape before these holes were filled also.

The people in the camp were a lot more vocal, repeatedly saying sorry in English, one even went to kiss one of the girls. They were cooking meat over an open fire and were happy for pictures to be taken.

After the block the road started to gain height giving lonely views of glaciers, bays and snow capped mountains. These were the famous mountains I wanted to trek in and where a lot of tourists were trapped without food supplies.

The road ahead went through a barren landscape, the occasional shrine similar to those elsewhere in Latin America lined it's edges. Some of these shrines had a twist, they were surrounded by hundreds of plastic and glass bottles full of water - wierd.

What happend next was completely unexpected, word got round that the police and locals were going to help us get to the border. This was welcome news for Liz who had told me that her back ached.

Sure enough we started to see pickup trucks drive past with backpackers clinging on. I think that the strikers took pity and because the group seemed sympathetic they were more willing to help.

We climbed into the back of a pickup also that took us to a road junction where the others were waiting. We were told to wait for more trucks that would take us up to the Chilean border. As we were waiting we saw a HGV stop, the doors of the trailer were opened and out popped loads of Israels. Israels are notorious for travelling in packs and rarely mix, they are the Dingles of the backpacker world - perhaps the HGV was a novel way for them to keep pack formation.

The second pickup we caught didn't hang around. I sat on a massive pile of bags so that I was more upright than bent, this made the drive cold and a bit hairly. It got us to the border that we just walked through, we had already been stamped out of Chile a few days ago.

There was 3km of uphill no mans land, however it was a nice walk full of wild flowers and strange trees. It was a place that you would normally wiz past in a bus, I was enjoying the travelling simplicity.

Ahead was the welcome to Argentina sign and freedom. We posed for some photos and revelled in the achievement before doing the formalities at the immigration office. From here we could get a taxi but decided instead to walk another 5km down to the Argentinian border town of Rio Turbio. No one else took a taxi, the taxi driver just drove back down without anyone despite people still arriving (he had a heated conversation with the Israels - also known to be very careful with their money).

There were a few cars going up to the border and then driving back. The border was closed into Chile, and if you did get through you would be stopped not much further on by the roadblocks. We didn't walk the full 5km, a car pulled up and offered us a lift which we accepted.

We had our freedom but it is peak season here and the evacuation from Chile has resulted in severe accomodation shortages in El Calafate home to the next two major trip highlights. Being tired, having possible accomodation issues in Calafate and the prospect of a 5 hour plus journey made us look locally for somewhere to stay.

We had to take a room with four beds so paid over the odds but at least we had somewhere. When we went out later for something to eat and book the bus for the next day we passed all the others still sat on the villiage green waiting for buses. The Argentinians were asking for numbers so that they could get more buses in. A couple of people were still waiting when we went back to the room and bed - it's been a strange day.