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Luis P. Lived in Buenos Aires and had to travel to Miramar, a beautiful beach community in Argentina, some 450 kilometers south of the capital city. He made the trip with his friend Rodolfo. It was a trip conducted on a regular basis, as he had an apartment at the resort community.
On Friday the 12th, Luis was anxious to get on the way, and after dinner, he stopped to pick up Rodolfo around midnight. The weather was calm and clear, with starry skies and very little wind. Their ultimate destination – Miramar – was a long drive away. They were driving a white Fiat 600, listening to good music, according to Luis, as the vehicle was equipped with a tape deck.
They didn’t speak much on the journey, and the subjects were usually cars or motorcycles, since both experiencers were 17 and 18 years old respectively. They encountered very little traffic on Route 2 and stopped for fuel in Maipú before pushing ahead. Upon reaching Mar del Plata and the Bus Terminal, they stopped for breakfast around 5:00 a.m. and continued the journey between 5:20 and 5:30 a.m. approximately. These time references become necessary in the case’s subsequent analysis.
Underway once again, they followed the Mar del Plata coastal road. Luis recalls the noise of his tires against the pavement. On Route 11, past the Mar del Plata Lighthouse and in the Peralta Ramos Forest, they found the road was obstructed. It was still dark and they encountered a white sawhorse with a Detour sign pointing right. When they turned, they saw it was a trail made with very large stones, but not one constructed by the highway authority.
It was still dark and the experiencers found themselves in a sudden downpour, to the point that their windshield wipers couldn’t cope with the rain. They traveled some 30 or 40 meters and came to a closed gate; putting the car in reverse, they drove 80 meters only to find another gate; eventually they found another arrow and saw the landscape change consistency—soil and earth – as though it was the first time that someone had been through there.
At this point, Rodolfo became desperate. He shouted at Luis that he wanted to drive, which was odd, as he was a very poor driver. Luis agreed and they changed places. They retraced their steps back to the first detour sign. To their left they found the gate, but suddenly noticed a space in the middle of a field and drove through it. 10 or 20 meters later, they found themselves completely stopped on the highway, with Mar del Plata to their left and Miramar to their right.
It was no longer raining; they pulled over, swapped places again, and continued the journey toward Miramar. The time was now mid-morning. Upon reaching their destination, they parked and rang the concierge’s doorbell – a man named Tito – to let them in. Once in the apartment, both young men took a nap.
They usually slept a few hours after a trip, but this time they felt exhausted. Much more than usual. They were awakened from their slumber by the sound of violent blows against the apartment door: the concierge and his family had come looking for them, as it turned out that the time was 10:00 a.m. – only it was Sunday morning at 10:00 a.m.: Luis and his friend had slept approximately 24 hours, and the concierge’s concern was understandable.
After breakfast, they discussed the event but could not agree on the details, since Luis and Rodolfo believed that they had arrived at first light on Saturday while Tito assured them that they had in fact arrived at noon. When asked why their car was completely covered in mud, they told the concierge about the rainstorm that had engulfed their car. They were shocked to hear that it never rained at all – a fact corroborated by the arrival of Tito’s son from Mar del Plata, who had returned home the previous day.
Mystified, the young men tried to confirm the strange situation they were involved in. They borrowed Tito’s Peugeot 403 and drove to Mar del Plata, noting to their amazement that the roadway was normal, without any traces of water or signs of what they had experienced the night before.
Neither Luis nor Rodolfo ever discussed the matter again. In later years, Rodolfo moved to the United States, where he currently lives. Luis always found himself looking at the sky, after this experience.
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