Uruguay, January 1980
She was 17. He was 19.
In the middle of Summer they decided to take a break from their jobs as a secretary and a bank employee and spend a few days camping with friends close to Cerro del Toro in Piriápolis. The weather was good for a few days of rest at the beach.
On January 7th they decided to take his motorcycle (a Gilera 150) and head to El Chuy, a small town in the Brazilian border, to do some shopping, replenish the camp and, at the same time, spend some time alone. It was a very hot day, they were wearing sporting clothes, shorts, running shoes.
After the visit was over, they headed back to camp. Exhausted by the heat, they stopped at a bar along the route to drink some fresh water and had a small argument because she, overheated and with her hair down to her waist, did not want to use the helmet anymore. Very decisive, he simply said: “If you don’t wear it, I leave you here”. And with that determination his decision defined the fate of her life.
A couple of few hours later, around 6PM, the sun was still shining high. When they got to a crossroad called El Trébol de Piriapolis (The Clover of Piriapolis), they suddenly saw a bus coming out of control in their direction. They tried to stop, but the crash seemed inevitable. And then the miracle happened.
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