CYCLING: Falling in love with Argentina, Argentines and their pastries

We have cycled over 7000km and when we get to Buenos Aires we will have cycled the equivalent length of the full South African coast line 3 times! Argentina has been relatively easy cycling due to flat terrain and being a relatively developed country. I love this place but I'm looking forward to tackling Uruguay in the New Year!

Km1010 to Km925: Random acts of kindness
Last night I discovered that when sleeping by a wind break it is probably better to sleep in amongst the trees creating the wind break rather than in the fire break just next to them. Fortunately, the rain forecast did not materialise over night but a very strong wind did. Halfway through the night I woke up with someone was kicking me in the back, well that's what it felt like, but it was just my bag knocking against me as the wind hit the side of my tent. The side of my tent facing the direction in which we were due to cycle the next day had pulled loose from the peg suggesting that there was a rather strong wind coming from that direction. Needless to say I was now quite anxious about cycling into a gale force wind all of the next day and did not sleep much more that night.

By dawn the wind had died down proving yet again that there is no point in stressing over something that hasn't even yet materialise, if only it was easier to convince yourself of this in foresight rather than in hindsight. The road was horrendous as it was a single lane road with lots of traffic so all I wanted to do was get to the turn off down to the coast but that would only be that evening, if we were lucky. Over lunch we needed to restock so we headed a little off the road to the town of El Perdido which is a rather unfortunate name as it literally means 'The Forgotten'.

The town was widely spread out but couldn't have had more than a couple of hundred residence, as usual though it was siesta time so just about no one was about. After much searching we found a shop that was open where we planned to pick up a few veggies. While paying for our veggies the owner threw in a few things for free and as if that wasn't enough he later came running after us with an additional free 2 litres of juice! We hadn't managed to get all the veggies we needed though so we were directed to the only other shop open at this time where where the lady there too threw in a few freebies. Amazed and filled with happiness by all this generosity we went off to find the local bus shelter that we had spotted earlier that day.

The minute we finished making our lunch in the bus shelter it started to bucket down with rain so we decided to see if we could sit it out for a while. We had been sitting in the shelter there on the edge of town for a while when a young couple came along on a motor bike, now soaking wet, and asked if we were ok or if we needed anything. We explained to them that we were ok and were just resting so they set off back into town. I couldn't believe that these 2 had gotten on their bike in the pouring rain just to come and check if we needed anything, I almost wanted to say yes just because they had gone to so much trouble just to come and check on us. Argentina really is the home of random acts of kindness.



The rain never did stop so eventually we set off in the rain adding to the already dangerous road conditions. We didn't make it to the turn off, so now I lie in my tent 20km short with the rain tapping away on my tent. It may be overly hopeful but I hope to wake up to a dry tent and clear skies!

Km925 to Km850: We swim in the Atlantic Ocean
What we didn't realise about our camping spot just behind a decrepit old petrol station was that we were right next to a farm and as a result we were kept up most of the night by what sounded like cows being slaughtered. In the morning we awoke to sunshine and dry tents so that we were incredible grateful for. 25 odd kilometres down the road we turned off the highway and started heading down towards the coast. We had about 20km of tar then the rest would be farm roads down to the the coastal town of Claromecó but first we needed to stop at Copetonas to restock because we feared with a dirt road we may not make the coast by nightfall. The town folk there were friendly and we met a very patriotic little kid explaining to us how he doesn't speak Spanish or Castellano but rather Argentinian. It is true though these Argentines really do speak what sounds like a whole new language, going from 'caye' to 'cashe' for the phonetic pronunciation of road and 'aya' to 'asha' for 'over there' all very confusing when being given directions!



Our map made the route along the dirt roads down to the coast look really easy but what we didn't know is what the map wasn't showing and that was all the other dirt roads criss crossing the ones on the map. This wouldn't have been a problem if there had been more than one sign post along the route however we only ever did see one sign to Claromecó and that was as we headed out of town. Just when we thought we were lost in the maze of dirt farm roads, after having enjoyed were being chased down by some horses in an adjacent field, we saw what looked like an ambulance parked in the middle of nowhere. Once we got closer we saw it was a huge army like autovilla being driven by its German owner down to Patagonia for what looked like a rather pricey over land holiday. An English guy also accompanied them on his dirt bike but what was most entertaining was that his name was also Nick and lived just 40km or so from where Nick lived in the UK. You don't expect to meet crazy travellers like this but you certainly don't expect to meet them on a muddy dirt road between somewhere and nowhere!



After such an exciting morning the afternoon session dragged on a bit and soon Nick decided he was having a sandwich there and then but I figured with the sun already going down I'd sooner rather get to Claromecó in time for a swim and a sundowner than sit on the side of a dusty road so on I went. Ross had said when I saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time I must run and have a swim and that is what I intended to do. Just further down the road the road turned and I could see Claromecó 5km down the road, this just made me just too excited to get to the sea thus covering the last 5km in what felt like minutes!



When I arrived in town I made my way straight down to the beach, locked my bike up to an umbrella, whipped on my swimming costume and ran into the sea. Most of the locals, packing up for the day, stared at me as if I had gone mad but that only added to the experience. Soon after my swim Nick and Mark rolled into town joining me on the beach for a beer as the sun slowly slipped down over the Atlantic Ocean. Although we were now on the east coast of South America the bit of coastline we were on faces south so you can get both a sunrise and sunset at either end of the ocean. The beach at Claromecó is nice enough but the sand although fine is a little dirty and the sea not very clear and slightly chilly but its a beach and a sea which is warm enough to swim in so I was very happy to be there.



We spent the next 2 days enjoying the beach and in town catching up with family on Skype while staying at a nice little camp site on the edge of town. The people were all so friendly and the food, especially the ice-cream and panaderias (bakeries), fantastic but it was just so frustrating not being able to find anything open between 12pm and 5pm as EVERYONE is having a siesta. After having had a fantastic relaxing 2 days and many many facturas (pastries) here I now sit under the pine trees with the wind blowing gently bringing little fluffy seed like things down, waiting in anticipation for our braai of red peepers stuffed with local olives and cheese, and a good Argentinian steak while enjoying a 'glass', actually a metal mug, of delicious Malbec red wine.



Km850 to Km770: Sleeping at police station
After a great couple days in Claromecó we were now heading towards Necochea, our next beach destination, but before heading off we had to stop at the secret panaderia (bakery) for various facturas (pastries) and the most delicious medialunas (croissants or half moons) I have ever tasted-these guys really should go down in some kind of record book. I have never been a big fan of pastries but these Argentines do something to them that makes my taste buds water. Mark tells me that there is a new Argentinian bakery just round the corner from my house in South Africa, now I would never have thought of Argentina as being the home of pastries but apparently it is! Nocochea was now over 130km way so we knew that most of the day would just be making ground so that we could cruise into Necochea early the following day.

As predicted nothing really too exciting happened that day other than getting to witness a rather noisy local test driver driving what looked like a home built racing car. We were still on a back road but this time tar, as we cycled down the road we noticed 100m markings on the road and a crowd of people gathered when suddenly we herd a eardrum popping car come flying past us. It sounded like he was running a lawnmower engine at 1000 times its capacity and the whole car didn't look too stable on the road so I was not too excited to be cycling anywhere near him!



By nightfall we were back on the highway and had resolved ourselves to the fact that we were going to be sleeping pretty much in a ditch on the side of the road. Just when we found a little road running off to the side, which would have been perfect to cycle down a little in order to find a slightly more peaceful place to camp, we saw a police car parked on the turn off. As we cycled past him we asked him if it would be ok to camp there and with much hesitation he queried as to whether or not we planned to make a fire to which we quickly responded with an emphatic no, knowing full well we soon planned to cook dinner on our rather hazardous little gas stoves He said ok but we must go 1km to a bus shelter which could be seen from where we were and there we would find an old school which is now a police station. We cycled on to this school which is now a police station and by the time we got there they had received the news on their CV radio that we were on the way. Now here I lay probably in the safest place we have ever camped with my tent pitched between 2 guard dogs tied to trees on either side of the property, I just hope nothing disturbs them on this what has so far been a very peaceful night.

Km770 to Km735: Meat
Short of the police moving their 4x4 into the garage for the night our sleep outside the police station proved very peaceful, although it did concern me a little that they felt the need to lock the car away for the night given that this was a police station and the car was already inside the same fence that we were. It couldn't have bother me too much because after the little disturbance I fell straight back to sleep and slept like a log. Mark however was not as lucky and had to get up in the middle of the night and literally 'gaan kuk in die milies' in the field adjacent to police station.

We didn't have far to go to the next beach town on our list, Necochea. Necochea itself is quite ugly but it's lucky enough to have a relatively pretty beach front and the again people were friendly. The whole place is bordered by its even uglier sister Quequen to the east which looks very much like an old agro-industrial port town which has been left to fall apart and can unfortunately even be seen from the beach including its most distinguishing features of towering silos and factories spewing steam into the air. The Parque Miguel Lillo and beach running to the west helps makes up for this with a beautiful camp site set amongst the the Parque Miguel Lillo forest. The beach is huge and runs along the front of Necochea and to the west as far as the eye can see. The section along front Necochea looks like it could be a huge nightmare/party come busy season as there are bars running along this 2km section with little sun tents lining the beaches just waiting for the pending people flood. The sea itself is a little bland as its not very warm, a little murky and doesn't have great waves but then again it is being compared to the great beaches of Ecuador and Southern Africa which I have become accustomed to.



We arrived early at the Parque Miguel Lillo camp site so once camp was set-up we had almost the whole day to enjoy the camp site swimming pool and local beach. The local panadarias (bakeries) however did not live up to those of Claromecó which was a little disappointing but Nick and I did each enjoy about 500g of great steak on the camp site braai. Meat here really is great and it is so cheap and readily available, the best cut costs less than $8 a kilo on average and is just too delicious. Seafood on the other hand is a lot pricier here than the west coast of South America and I think that is because there aren't too many fish left in the warmer waters on this side of the continent but then again that's just a guess.



Interestingly I used be of the opinion that its better to eat animals that are 'wild' e.g. fish from the sea or say a buck that has roamed the fields all its life but I have come to realise that this is not sustainable or a realistic opinion. Yes its nicer or kinder to eat animals that have lived a happy life but there are just too many humans on this earth for us all to eat like that and if we all tried to eat like that there would/will soon be no wild life/fish left in the world otherwise we need to create a hang of a lot more world for all these animals to roam around on.

The reason I started to think about this was because Mark doesn't eat beef and stated that, but not giving it as the reason for not doing so, there is a lot of unnecessary cruelty involved in mass producing animals. This is fare, cruelty to animals may be a good reason not to eat them however many of these same people still continue to eat fish because they are not bred in captivity resulting a whole bunch of people now switching from eating bred animals to wild animals. However, as I cycled past the hundreds of fishing boats and villages and walked through the fish markets on a daily basis, manly those of Peru, I just began to realise how much we are raping the sea and how unsustainable it is. It became so disturbing to me that I have almost got to the point where I refuse to eat wild animals (i.e. fish in Peru) and only eat animals that have been bred because there are just too many of us humans to sustainably feed off of them. At least with bred animals we are only eating what we produce.

Yes, yes, I can her you already saying what about the cruelty, what about the pollution well I agree that's why we as humans need to start being more responsible about breeding animals using free range techniques, perhaps not eating so much meat etc. but I think we should just leave the wild ones alone. If we can't produce enough animals ethically to eat then perhaps we should stop having so many children!! Ok hope you enjoyed my rant..let me know what you think.

Km735 to Km675: Gaucho
After spending a fantastic 2 days relaxing, swimming and sunning ourselves by the pool in Necochea it was time to find our next beach along the coast however we again had to head inland only to later head back to the coast. We didn't quite make it back to the coast in a day but we did just make it to the dirt road that would take us down to the coast to Mar del Sur when it started to become dark. We spotted a nice piece of grass outside a farmer's, or gaucho's they called around here, gate which we thought would be great for camping but were bit concerned the gaucho may come home or see us early in the morning and chase us away. I grew a little concerned about how the gaucho may react given that all the way down the highway we had been seeing bullet holes in all the traffic signs but just as we were about to whip the tents out the gaucho came home and we managed to flag him down for a chat. After allaying his fears that we were not druggie hippies we asked if we could stay and he said fine but to rather meet him at a farm gate just further down, so off we went just desperate to set up the tents and make dinner!



The gate he had sent us to was an entrance just 500m down the road and the road leading for the gate was lined with trees with the sun going down at the other end of it making for a beautiful sight. As we followed his car down the avenue we kept spotting beautiful patches of grass to camp but we had been instructed to follow so we did. Just as we came to the end of avenue it opened up on to a beautiful pristinely kept polo field. I had never seen a polo field with my own eyes let alone camped by one so was quite chuffed! The framer kindly let us into the club house where there was a little stove and a sink and said we were welcome to camp or sleep on the floor there. After being told some crazy story about some other people the gaucho had met who had been travelling the continent by horse and getting married and then pregnant and then going back to give everyone they had met a horse shoe we headed off to bed. I now lay here on the club house floor having murdered numerous mosquitoes while Mark and Nick sleep outside under the night sky out on the polo field. I absolutely love sleeping under the starry sky but given that my mosquito net is rammed at the bottom of one of my bags I'd sooner rather sleep indoors.



Km675 to Km645:An ancient hotel
The gaucho had to make is way to Mar del Plata early the next morning. The next morning the gaucho came bounding along on his horse early as promised and wearing his typical gaucho clothes including a typical Argetninian biona (flat little cloth hat balanced on his head) setting us on our way with a smile. It wasn't long before we were down on the coast in a little town called Mar del Sur (sea of the south). Now Mar del Sur is the perfect holiday beach town for me as it is only a few streets wide and long and has a quiet little beach, I even noticed that there is a awesome little hostel right there by the beach. There are some beautiful old buildings in Mar del Sur to look at including a 120 year old hotel 'Boulevard Atlantic' where I believe Hitler once took refuge! Perhaps if come back in Argentina in March I'll return to Mar del Sur.

Having eaten our breakfast on the beach in Mar del Sur we carried on along a coastal road for about 20km arriving at Miramar where we had originally planned to stay. Miramar is a much bigger town and reminded me a lot of Umhlanga in South Africa or Cancun in Mexico with high-rise flats and hotels lining the beach front. The town itself has lots of nice little bars and coffee shops set along the pedestrianised centre streets and plaza but its not really our scene and we would much prefer to camp on the beach somewhere, which would obviously not have been possible around there. We cycled up and down the beach front for a bit which was clearly preparing for pending onslaught of porteños (people of the port of Buenos Aires), had a beer or two over lunch in town and then head a little further up the coast. The coastline form here reminded me a lot of a slightly colder version of South African south coast with coastal homes now sprawled all along the coastline.

We soon realised that we weren't going to find anywhere completely unpopulated to camp so started looking for the most discrete place we could find. We soon spotted some bushes over on the top of the sand dunes noticing when we got behind the bushes that were would not be the first people to have ever camped there and there was plenty of evidence to suggest it was perhaps a spot where more than just camping and camp fires had gone on, perhaps even a little romancing. Hoping that we were not taking over someone's home and were not going to be accompanied by anyone else that evening we cleared a spot and set up our tents. Being on the sea front it pumped with wind all night which didn't make for a great nights sleep but that was ok because we knew we would soon be in Mar del Plata where we would be staying with a friend, in beds for the first time in a while!

Km645 to Km600: Staying Mar del Plata with fantastic friends!
Excited to finally be arriving in Mar del Plata we set off into a strong head wind towards Mar del Plata. Mark and I would be staying with Kelly Gibson now Kelly Santandrea (well actually not officially because Argentines wives don't traditionally take on their spouses surname), an old friend from high school, and Nick would be staying with a different local family as part of his Spanish course. As we rounded the south east coastline and started heading now almost directly north we started coming into the outskirts of Mar del Plata. Mar del Plata is huge with around 600000 permanent inhabitants all kind of set along the coast. The first main beach we came to is the aptly named Playa Grande (big beach) and it is absolute madness. The porteños (people of the port of Buenos Aires) have not yet arrived for vacation but you can see that the people here are prepared! The beach has what looks like airport terminals numbered 1 to 24 with acompaning parking lots, long stretches of the beach have been cordoned off boasting rows of what look like miniature carports all over the beach which can be hired either for the day of just for the season meaning you get your own little piece of beach. They look hideous from a distance but it does mean no wind, its easy to find people, you can leave your deck chairs there and you get a whole extra set of neighbours!



Kelly had sent me the address to her place and thanks to google maps we found her street with ease. Her house didn't have a number on it but the locals milling around in the street were only too happy to pointing out where the South African lived. I had suspected it may be her house because it looked just like a typical modern Joburg suburban home but didn't want to go ringing some random person's bell hoping it would Kelly's place. After attempting to freshen up a bit on the sidewalk Sebastian, Kell's husband, was presented with 3 hobo looking cyclists.



Kell was still out shopping as we were a little earlier than expected but thankfully Sebastian let us in even if he didn't have anyway to verify that the hobos standing at the door were intact Kelly's friends for back home. Kelly and Sebastian were due to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary the next day and were currently still putting the finishing touches to the home they had built replacing the one Sebastian had lived in as a child, now a beautiful and modern home. Mark and I are lucky enough to have our own room and bathroom which too means Kell fortunately doesn't have to fall over our stuff. Once Kell was home we almost immediately headed down to the beach. Kell and Sebastian share a 'car port' on the beach with 2 other couples and they can take guests which is great. So nice to go down to the beach knowing everything thing is already there and your friends might even already be there!



We've since spent some good time catching up with Kell and getting to know Sebastian, playing with Ingwe their cool little cat while eating and living like kings! What I discover when having a parrilla (braai) the other evening and at various canicerias (butchery) is that they don't generally use expensive cuts of meat on a parrilla and I think I know why. Apparently expensive cuts are too dry which is valid but it is compounded by the fact that they seem to cook the meat very slowly over low heat. The other evening we bought what looked like a very fatty lump of meat but Sebastian cooked it very slowly even putting a piece of newspaper over the top of it to keep in the heat and paper didn't even go brown! The meat was absolutely delicious though but was cooked more like how South African's would do a roast in a Webber rather than a flame grilled steak. Think I'm going to have to give it a try when I'm home.





We now have a few more days with Kell and Sebastian before Steve Donald arrives and we set off to Buenos Aires for New Year! I wish you all a fantastic Christmas and a happy New Year!

To see all the pics form Argentina click here.

CYCLING: Argentina; a very pleasant surprise!

I have finally managed to catch up with my blogs, enjoy!

Km1814 to Km1760: Petrol stations
Waking up at the back of the petrol station I suddenly realised we had been camping between 2 large petrol tankers and a giant commercial gas bottle, relieved we had survived the night and hadn't decided to make a little camp fire we head off down the road. Soon we came to Zapala where we had planned to do some much needed washing and to spend a day or 2 resting and discovering our new home country. Sadly again we arrived during siesta time and after waiting outside a hostel for 3hrs for it to open we found it was not worth the money they were asking for so we decided to make our way out of town. We still had clothes that hadn't seen a washing machine since Santiago but we had no choice, they would have to wait until Neuquén 180km away for a good wash!



Again just outside town there was a petrol station with good facilities round the back and it was starting to rain. It was already dark so we went with the ask for forgiveness option and just slinked round the back and set-up camp. Once the tents were set-up it soon started to pelt down with rain so I don't think anyone knew we were there or could be bothered to care given all the rain. There is something quite comforting about being inside a nice cosy tent while its pouring down with rain outside. I now lie here in the comfort of my tent with the pouring rain outside and I find it quite amazing that I can be sitting here taping away at my keyboard, incredibly content and looking forward to another good nights sleep somewhere in the world I never imagined I would ever have been.



Km1760 to Km1650: 'Highveld' thunderstorm
Having slept that night like a baby, thanks to the rain taping down on my tent, we woke to clear skies and a nice dry tent. Given that we had set-up in the dark and in a rather big hurry we didn't really know what we had put our tents down on so when Mark got up first thing in the morning he discover he had been sleeping with used baby nappy just outside his tent, something which we found quite entertaining but weren't going to laugh too quickly at because we could never be sure what we would find lurking under our tents. We knew we would be staying in the middle of nowhere that day so we just made as much ground as we could. The weather was good, roads quiet and the scenery desolate with oil pumps jutting out of it every so often. We now knew why we had seen so many petrol tankers going back and forth over the border with Chile and could now confirm it was Chile that was doing the importing and Argentina doing the exporting.



Later that evening we picked a random desolate spot amongst the oil fields and enjoyed a dramatic sunset while cooking dinner. We were off to bed early only to be woken shortly after by a violent electric storm. Once I had counted the seconds between the thunder and lightning and had worked out the lighting was nowhere near I quickly nodded back off to sleep, it had been a while since I had enjoyed a good 'highveld' thunderstorm.



Km1650 to Km1585: Great steak and Malbec in Neuquén
Again we awoke to clear skies and dry tents but by lunch time the road into Neuquén had become quite unpleasant. It had had no hard shoulder ever since the border but there had not been much traffic so it hadn't been a problem but now we were starting to get into the outskirts of Neuquén and thus had more urban traffic to contend with. Traffic was pretty heavy in both directions leaving very little space for cars, trucks and buses to overtake.



Having only just surviving the road into Neuquén we were quite relieved to be at our destination and quickly started looking for place to stay. We figured we would spend 2 days there getting washing done and sorting out local SIM cards amongst other things. Everyone in Neuquén was very friendly and a lady even chased us down so she could provide us with some useful information about where good hostels etc and ultimately we landed up staying at the Hostels International hostel that the lady had suggested. Everyone at the hostel as incredible friendly, we had a nice room, they had facilities to do washing and the lady we met in the street even came back there the next day to a make sure we had found everything we were looking for.



The hostel was awesome and had a big fat braai place where Nick and I got stuck into some good Argentinian steak and Malbec red wine. Neuquén itself didn't have too much to offer but it was big enough for us to get done what we wanted t do and relax a bit. The people at the hostel were great to chat to and strangely enough mostly were Argentinian so it was good to get some Spanish practice in. Pablo, an Argentinian who was staying at the hostel, muted the idea of joining us on the bikes when we get to Uruguay which would be awesome especially since he speaks Spanish but we'll see if anything comes of it as it all depends on whether or not he gets a job as a life guard on the local white water scene.

Km1585 to Km1540: Rio Negro
Now with our mobile phones working on the local network, thanks to the very helpful Augosto at Personal, and our clothes clean we set-off on the bikes once again. The road was quite harrowing coming into Neuquén and only got worse as we headed out of town which confirmed our plans to get on to the dirt road as soon as possible that ran parallel to the highway we were on, but on the other side of Rio Negro. Only that evening did we get the bridge that would take us over the river and to the dirt road that would be a lot quieter but did not pass by any towns for the next 100km.



Realising that 100km on a dirt road was probably going to take us 2 days we discovered we were a bit short of food so just before crossing the bridge we decided to stop at a little shop where we could restock, but we had also noticed that they had a lovely piece of grass out front their shop. This would be perfect place to camp as the river was just down the road meaning we could have an early morning swim before heading off and to boot there were tables and chairs under the tree which would be perfect for preparing dinner on. The sun was going down fast so I was not going to mince my words and just asked the shopkeeper straight out if we could camp there. The shopkeeper was more than happy for us to camp there and once we had set-up camp under the trees him and his son joined us for a chat as the sun went down over Rio Negro. This is when we began to realise it was no longer a coincidence but that Argentinians probably are some of the friendliest and most generous people around.



Km1540 to Km1490: Campo, campo, campo
The following morning we had a great refreshing swim in Rio Negro and then headed off across the bridge and down the dirt road. We had been told that all the was was 'campo' (veld or grasslands) on either side of the dirt road interjected by Valle Azul 100km on but we had not appreciated how little there would be. Fortunately the road wasn't too bad but there was little really in fact nothing , no cars, no farm houses just a few cows some of who were now dry skeletons on the side of the road. According to the locals it has been raining for a weak prior but luckily the road had dried out quite a bit resulting in only few muddy spots that nearly took me for a muddy swim only just saving myself by bringing myself down in the grass next to me.



Just in time for lunch we came to an elevated point on the road where we could look down over Rio Negro which was magnificent. The scenery although dry and desolate was beautiful and that night we enjoined a peaceful night just randomly sleeping in the 'campo' with absolutely nothing to disturb us.



Km1490 to Km1440: Camping by Rio Grande
The next day we arrived in Valle Azul in time for a lunch and a restock. The people in this little town were again very friendly and we even asked by one of the locals if we could have photo with them. We even managed to rouse the attention of the police while we enjoyed our lunch under a tree, we were probably the biggest disturbance the poor policeman had seen in years.



After plenty more punctures, bruises, scratches and worsening sunburns we came to a little cow path where we could make our way down to the river, Rio Grande, to set-up camp for the night. I'm not quite sure why the river alternates between the names Rio Negro (Black River) and Rio Grande (Big River), but is does. Navigating our way down a cow path to the river's edge was quite treacherous but it was all worth it. Once we were down by the river we found a nice soft patch of grass to set-up camp, then it was time to freshen up in the river. It is so great just camping by a river in the absolute middle of nowhere.



It is nice and warm in this area so I decided to sleep under only the mosquito net part of my tent that night. I now lay here on my back typing this out on my phone with only a thin net between me and the starry sky above allowing me to spot the most amazing falling star I have ever seen just over the corner of my phone, it even had a long burning tail and everything! I just feel so privileged to be here under the night sky with the only sound of the flowing river and jumping fish to to disturb me.

Km1440 to Km1360: Ants
One of the great things about the dirt road has been the true desolation of it all. When going through the deserts in Peru and Chile we were mostly on highways so there was always passing traffic however, out here we were lucky if we saw a car a day. Sitting down for lunch in the harsh sun, as there were no trees to speak of, we have found ourselves beginning to appreciate the really small things in life, ants. As we sat there eating our bread rolls we noticed the little army ants marching off with our bread crumbs and decided to follow them to where they were taking them. These little guys were just amazing and so entertaining to watch. First we gave them bigger and bigger pieces of bread to see what they would do with it and when they became too heavy for one guy to carry they would team up and carry if off. Then we saw one little guy attempting to pick-up a little berry by it's stalk and after egging him on for a bit he just seemed to build up some energy and wham he whipped it up and over his shoulder, as if ant sized sack of potatoes – man were we impressed! Another little guy had found a small fluffy flower thing and too was carrying it by the stalk but the wind just kept catching and pulling it out of his hands. We just sat there laughing and observing these little guys' determination for over an hour. I didn't quite realise how entertain an army of ants can be when they're not ruining your picnic or trashing the kitchen sink.



By midday it was pretty hot and the sand on the road was begging to get a bit too soft so we had just about had enough when it prematurely turned to tar. We had almost forgotten what it felt like for the bike to just keep rolling once you stopped peddling. A little way down the tar road we saw a police station in the middle of nowhere and wondered what on earth the people there did and soon we found out. Just as we came past the station a cop on a motorbike went the other way but then a few minutes later he came flying back past us flashing his blue light indicating for us to pull off. I wondered what on earth now what law can we have possibly broken. Apparently, we hadn't broken any law the guy was just so darn bored that he decided to exercise his blue light powers so he could pull us over have a chat.

After passing through a small town, Fary Luis Beltran, we came to Choele Choel where we had hoped to restock and keep going. However, we had done our same old trick and arrived in town during siesta time except this time it was a Sunday and the shops would not be reopening until the next day. On entering the town we had seen there was a camp site in the town but on an island called 'La Isla' (The Island) so we decided to cut our loses and camp the night there and head off in the morning. What we discovered is that camping in Argentina is a lot cheaper than in Chile and that the reason all the shops are closed on Sunday even is because everyone is at the local camp site hall doing some crazy drunken dancing. 'La Isla' was literally an island sat in the middle of the Rio Negro river so it was pretty awesome camping there except that they had chosen a rather strange tree to plant all over the camp site, Mulberry trees, which were now baring fruit by the bucket load!

Km 1360 to Km1220: The beautiful girls of Rio Colorado
Waking up on 'La Isla' Nick and Mark had a swim to wake themselves up for the day while I enjoyed a lie in. Once we had scraped the mulberries from our tents and bike parts we set off to do our shop planning for at least 2 days of food as the next town, Rio Colorado, was over 140 away. The road to Rio Colorado was dead straight, had no towns and intersections and was pretty much flat all the way but what was even more fantastic about it was that the prevailing wind headed straight up it towards Rio Colorado. The wind was strong that day and in our favour so we hardly needed to peddle when we were in our top gear, and we estimated that we must have been averaging about 30km/h which is pretty impressive when your packing over 100km on your bike. So, in under 5 hours we arrived in Rio Colorado with a whole lot of unnecessary groceries.



Oddly though Rio Colorado is a very awesome little town which seems to be quite wealthy. Rio Colorado is quite aptly set on Rio Colorado but there is nothing else from there for miles besides farms. Cycling onto town the first thing we noticed was that all the girls were beautiful and cycling around a bit we this was confirmed from parks to shops most the girls you saw were just simply beautiful. We also noticed that the streets we very clean and seemed to have some rather upmarket restaurants including a very nice Panaderia (bakery) with a girl serving you that was the hottest girl in the world, according to Nick. This town also had a very cool bar done up with lots of antique things including road sighs and number plates from all over the world. Most of the number plates were from Argentina, South America or the USA but then we notice he had an actual number plate from my home province in South Africa, Gauteng, how bizarre!



After enjoying a good evening at the bar and the Panadaria we made our way to the camp site which was apparently very nice and on the river. On our way there we were came across a large group of kids, the kind of kids had I seen while cycling through London I would given a large birth to in fear of my life. However, these kids were the polar opposite to London kids they were just so polite and all they wanted to do was chat with us, quite oddly no one had the impulse to shout out 'wot you look'n at' or swipe our mobile phones at any stage, which was quite a pleasant surprise. We landed up chatting to these kids in the street for ages before we took pictures, shared email address and then received further directions of how to get to the camp site.



Once at the camp site, even though it as now going on for midnight, the site manager was still up so he came running out to meet us when his dog alerted his attention. We thought ha he's just so excited to make a quick but off of us gringos even through we're hardly going to be here 8 hours but no in true Argentinian style he just wanted to welcome us and when I asked how much we owed he said nothing for you because it's late, and then showed us to a camp spot explaining that there were ablution blocks with hot water if we wanted. In the morning I enjoined another early morning river swim and a second hot shower, just because I could.

Km1220 to Km1094: Waking up on a bar lawn
The prevailing wind was still going in our direction and there was not too much to see until we got to Bahía Blanca 170km away so we decided to do what is we have discovered is best on this kind of trip and that is to 'make hay while the sunshine's', which has now become quite synonymous with taking advantage of a good loo when its available but it still applies to most things we do here. When you arrive in a town and the shops are open then shop now don't leave it, if you see a chocolate is on special don't wait till the next town to take advantage of it even if it is in a big chain buy it now, if the sun is shining and you come across a river stop and swim don't hope in vain that you'll soon come across another river no matter how many times the map indicates that you'll cross that river again. All of this is dictated by Murphy's Law or 'Ley de Murphy' as they refer to it here, because the minute you take something for granted Murphy will be sure to be there to prove you wrong and that's why no matter how clear the skies are make sure the suntan lotion and sun-glass are hard to get to and the rain coat is at hand because then you're guaranteed it won't rain that day. We really have become quite religious about our belief in Murphy and what seems to be the only way to defeat him and that is to 'make hay'.

'Making hay' really did pay off because we after stopping briefly to have lunch in an abandoned old farm house we managed to make it to far poorer town than that of Rio Colorado called Médanos, 126km down the road in good time. We did not expect much from this town other than to do some shopping and catchup on a few mails then head a little out of town to find a camping spot however, Médanos had other plans.

Although the town was a little groggy and the people not quite as good looking as Rio Colorado we got a good feeling about this town when we entered it, yet it was a very strange town. Firstly we came across a Panadaria (bakery) called 'Paz Panaderia' which directly translated means The Bakery of Peace, a rather odd name for a bakery but pleasant none the less and they did have delicious bread, spreading peace one loaf at a time. Next we were reprimanded by the police for cycling the wrong way up a one way street. I really don't understand this, all the towns in Argentina no matter how small all have one way streets everywhere but to add to it the streets are wide enough to turn an ox-wagon, seriously they are about 4 lanes wide and there are about 4 cars a day riding down them. So, I really don't understand why they don't save themselves the trouble of ridding around in circles and putting up unnecessary one way signs, and then the police could do something else with their time instead of standing around waiting to reprimand the one gringo that comes into town every decade.

Mark and Nick found an Internet café to do there admin at but I preferred to sit in a coffee shop with my laptop so I went of cycling in circles around the town trying to find a coffee shop or restaurant where I could sit and use my laptop even if they didn't have wifi. Strangely though after asking around I discovered the only such place is the restaurant at the petrol station just outside of town . It quite sad to think that the only place these people can relax and eat a meal is at the petrol station on the edge of town but then had the bright conclusion that if they don't have a restaurant they must definitely have a bar. Of course, I was right every as self respecting town has a bar so off I went in search of it.

After cycling past the bar about 4 times 'contra mano' (the wrong way), which is what everybody on the side walk shouts at you if you cycling up the wrong way, I eventually found the bar but it was more of a hall than a bar. The bar had those bead things hanging across the door and as I got close I immediately heard the chit chatter of the local men inside the bar however as I cycled up and lent my bike up against the wall when I would be able to see it through the bar window everything suddenly went very quite. I walked through the beads and all the men, all 5 of them at this stage, stopped and stared at me. I had to fight the instinct to turn and run but just announced loudly to everyone 'buenos tardes señores, quiro cerveza!' (good afternoon gentlemen, I want beer!-now this may seem very direct but this is how you ask for things in Spanish you simply expressing a desire) this was warmly received and the bar man quickly appear from the back producing an ice icy cold Quilmes.



I knew I could hardly now ignore the men sitting at tables scattered around the room shouting things across at each other so I just sat quietly at a table sipping my beer engaging in some friendly banter across the room about our cycling trip. At one point a tubby gentleman cycled up parked his bike, ran up to the bar and ordered a spirit. The other men began to poke fun at him saying how far do you cycle everyday? The man very proudly responded saying at least 20km a day! They all laughed and pointed at me saying he has cycled 130km today! He quickly downed his spirit and ran off back to his bike. I now felt like I had their approval and soon after this I was presented with another bottle of beer but I hadn't ordered another one. Not sure why I had received it and wondering how things worked around here I queried across the bar 'quanto de debo?' (how much do I owe) too which I was quickly informed it was on them.

To thank the men for the beer I moved over to where they were sitting and offered to share the beer between us as is the custom here and they gladly obliged. The beers began to flow fast and furious from here resulting in both my understanding of Spanish getting worse and their ability to speak clearly quickly diminishing. I was quite relieved when the other boys responded to my text message saying they were on their way because I knew once they arrived it would take away a little of pressure off me to comprehend what was being said around me. Now with the other guys there and the banter flying fast and furious a few more locals arrived one looking and behaving very much like a true Scotsman which was quite entertaining.

All the gentlemen were very kind and by the end of the evening we had been offered a place to stay or a place on the lawn to camp outside and were also asked to stay on the next day to join them for a braai but we needed to get ot Bahía Blanca so we graciously declined. We however did land up camping on the lawn just the back of the bar. While we were setting up our tents Mark headed back into the bar and to his surprise a lady had appeared. I'm not quite sure what was said but Mark quickly returned to the tents looking for backup because it sounded like they were trying to hook the two of them up and the men just couldn't understand why Mark as not interested. Quite strangely here in South America infidelity almost seems to be the order of the day, if someone's 'novia' (girlfriend or fiancé)is not there it is almost as if they don't exist. Fortunately Mark managed to change the subject and after a few more beers and some banter we retired to our tents only to wake up feeling a little squeezy wonder what on earth had happened!

Km 1094 to Km1050: Manu Chao and Chilling in Bahía Blanca
Thank heavens we had only left ourselves 40 odd kilometres to Bahía Blanca because after an impromptu night at the bar no amount of bread from The Bakery of Peace could make me feel better. We had an incentive though that once in Bahía Blanca we would stay for a day or two and we would be getting to the the Atlantic Ocean for the first time since leaving the Pacific ocean up in Chile. The cycle was not easy and to boot the wind changed direction for the last 15km so we had a strong headwind coming into Bahía Blanca.

Bahía Blanca is not pretty as its name suggests, Clear Bay, and really is just a groggy port city but the people there are friendly none the less. Cycling into town opposite the central town plaza down another stupid one way street the man in panel van in front of me just stared reversing and before I could get out of his way he hit my bike and I went flying into the road. Fortunately I managed to slap has car as I fell so he stopped short of damaging me and my bike but I landed on the handle bar sprawled in the middle of the road. Luckily there was no other traffic and a hippy guy we had met back in Choele Choel appeared out of nowhere to quickly help me up. As soon as he knew I was all fine he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. I was fine and couldn't really say too much to the driver because he was already very apologetic and obviously could not have seem me though his van so off I went a little shocked.

For accommodation the tourist office directed us Bahía Blanca Hostal but they were all full due to a convention that was on in town but they very kindly did a bit of phoning around for us only to establish that everywhere else was full too. It had just started to bucket down with rain as we stepped in the door so being the kind Argentinians that they are they made a plan and said that we could sleep on the floor in the table tennis room for free after midnight. They had space for the next night so we decided to stay there and then at least we would have room in the morning sometime. The hostel was awesome with had very cool décor set in a very old colonial building. There wasn't much to Bahía Blanca besides the pretty town square so we were just enjoying relaxing in the enjoyable atmosphere of the hostel and took good advantage of the kitchen.

The next day we discovered that Manu Chao just by chance would be playing at a local venue that night, I had gotten some Manu Chao music from a friend before coming out here and had been listening to while cycling for the last 7 month so could not believe it when I found out they were playing in Bahía Blanca. Fortunately there were still tickets available and the cool hostel manager had offered us a lift with him and his wife. We really had lucked out with our stay in Bahía Blanca.

When we got to the venue where Manu Chao was playing there was a huge queue but we first needed to collect our tickets so were directed to the office close to the front of the queue. After we had gotten our tickets no one seemed to be too bothered by us being there so we just proceeded on to the gates knowing we would probably get way with it by pleading ignorant gringos. No one battered an eye lid not even one of the ten police that hadn't noticed that we hadn't been searched. Once inside we found we were one of the first few people inside so could get a spot right in front of the stage which we would later begin to regret. Strangely though they don't sell beer or food in their venues so we were quite starving and would soon find out why they don't sell alcohol.



Quite unexpectedly the concert started on time, around 9pm, and without any pre backup band. By the time Manu Chao came on the venue was packed and we were now quite tightly wedged near the front. The crowd went mad when the band came on and it pretty much got crazier from there. Manu Chao was brilliant, as the tempo went up everyone just started jumping and swaying into one another. Now, I had come to expect this if I was at a punk concert and I was anywhere near the marsh pit but here the whole venue just seemed to turn into one giant marsh pit. Everyone seemed to be jumping simultaneously and if you got your timing wrong you'd just crash into someone who would fly into someone else which would create one massive chain reaction of people flying across the venue. At one point I was being squashed so hard I couldn't breath in and was quite relived I was over a foot taller than the average Argentinian and could just pop out the top if I really need to. The concert was great and I can see that these Argentinians really do know how to party – I can't wait to go watch an Argentinian game during the South African Football World Cup!

Km1050 to Km1010: World Cup Draw
Waking up with every muscle in my body aching from the Manu Chao concert the night before I realised it was already 10am and was about the miss our free hostel breakfast so I upped ran through, smelling like a giant cigarette, to claim my spot in the breakfast area. It was the World cup Draw day and we had decide to stick around until 2pm our time (7pm in South Africa) for the draw. The hostel had already been so kind to us but gave us yet another liberty and let us keep our room for an extra few hours so we could get our bikes packed up before we all sat down to watch the draw. This was such a treat because all I wanted to do was have one last nice warm shower and get packed properly and not have to run around frantically still smelling like cigarette just so that we could be out of the room by 10am, which was now already long gone.

Since Argentina had qualified for the World Cup the local station already by 11am had a show building up to the draw. It was so exciting sitting there watching our country be discussed and scrutinised by the world and from what I could understand they kept saying 'Que impresionante, que fantástico!' whenever they cut to live footage of South Africa. Just about everyone in the hostel that stopped to have look at the tele as they went by were sure as can be to be told that we were South African and this was our country. When the draw show finally commenced and Johnny Clegg started symbolically walking down through Africa with his familiar tune blaring out of the speakers, and an annoying Spanish translator shouting over the top, I just smiled from ear to ear forcing a lump back down my throat. I thought the show was brilliant and very professional with one of my best parts being the old wise umkhulu sitting down with his grandchildren showing them the book, I just think this scene had so much symbolism in it, we have an abundance of history and culture but we can be modern and first world too. The draw seemed fair too resulting in relatively fair pools, I can't wait for the World Cup and truly believe it is going to be one of the best World Cups yet!

Happy that I'd been able catch the draw show live, and a little concerned about the kind of whipping I'm going to see Mexico give Bafana Bafana in the opening match at Soccer City, we said cheers to all at the hostel and set off on our bikes. We managed an easy 40km before the sun began to fall taking us comfortable out of town where we now camp fairly well hidden on the side of the road amongst some trees. Hopefully the wind won't be too strong in the morning and the rain forecast never materialises because the wind farm we cycled past about 5km back concerns me a bit. There are 3 beaches we hope to visit on the way to Mar del Plata the first of which is now 150km away so we should hopefully be there in the next 2 days.

CYCLING: Over the Andes and into Argentina

Km270 to Km201: Most frustrating day yet
After a weekend of rain in the lake district we awoke on Rodrigo's friend's little plot just outside of Los Ángeles to the sound of more rain. Having already taken 2 days 'off' the bikes we figured we'd better get going no mater what. So, we reluctantly pulled ourselves out of our sleeping bags, put on our clothes which we had been drying by the fire all night and stepped out into the rain as it began to pour even harder.



We had considered taking a back road to Victoria where we would turn left off the Panamerican and head directly east for Argentina which would add an extra 30km to the 102km journey but given the conditions and that we had heard it was a dangerous road we decided against it. It was only 102km to Victoria so we had hoped to just push on a bit longer that day and get there by nightfall that day but the weather and our bikes had other plans.

I had bought new tyres in Santiago to replace my perishing old ones and now had the right tubes for them but the the actual tyre still had very weak side walls so with the bike fully laden I almost immediately got a puncture coming down the bumpy dirt road leading from the plot. Grrr I was so irritated, just as we were getting going as if it wasn't bad enough that it was pouring down with rain we now had to all stand in it while I again fixed a pinched tube. This set the tone for the rest of the day.

The rain never stopped, we were cycling down a rather not so interesting highway and I kept having to stop and fix a pinched tube so we weren't really having much fun but we have the hope of getting to Victoria where we would get off the highway and hopefully replace my stupid tyres, again! Lunch that day wasn't too exciting either because we had to make it while wet and cold huddled in a bus shelter on the side of the highway with trucks, cars and buses whizzing by (yes they have bus stops on their highway). Nick's bike too was now beginning to give troubles and his peddle crank kept coming loose so he too had to keep stopping to tighten that up. We must have looked a rather sorry bunch because a very kind man in his 4x4 bakkie (truck/pickup) stopped and asked us if he could give us lift to the next town but much to his shock we declined and continued repairing bikes and making lunch in the freezing shelter.



After lunch I discovered my tyre again had a slow puncture and Nick's peddle shaft still kept coming loose even after pouring half a bottle of 'Loctite' on it. Had we not had all the bike problems I don't think we would have been bothered by the the worsening rain but given that we had cycled halfway around the continent with very few punctures let alone more then one in a day and this was the first ever time we had encountered such cold and heavy rain we were just about ready for somewhere dry and warm and were in dire need of a bike shop. With 50km to Victoria in the pouring rain we knew we would get there so we decided to pull into Collipulli just 20km on.

When we did finally get to Collipulli we almost immediate stumbled upon a bike shop in this little town. While Nick and I had our bike troubles seen to Mark went on the hunt for a hostel and found an awesome little place with good food and a wood fire heating the whole hostel wonderfully. That night our clothes littered the hostel on just about every banister available but the owner only seemed to further encourage such behaviour by pulling chairs closer to the fire draping our clothes over them. Our bikes were fixed in no time and we were now warm, dry, well fed and ready for bed after along tiring day. It almost felt as if this whole thing happened just so we could get to experience this awesome little hostel and for that I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Km201 to Km113: Curacautín
The follow morning we were relieved to see the rain had stopped. We quickly gathered our warm bone dry clothes from around the fireplace and headed off. The sky was a bit grey and the highway busy so we were quite excited to get to the turn off to Victoria and start heading towards the Andes on a much quieter road.

When we did finally come to the turn off we realised it was quite a momentous occasion as we were leaving the Panamerican highway for the last time. The turn off was at the 609km mark from Santiago bring the total distance covered to around 5500km since we had started our trip up in Ecuador. Just as we took the turn off and were about to stop to take some photos we discovered the Panam had left Mark a parting gift; a big fat metal nail in his tyre. Left with little choice we decided to make the most of it and have our breakfast rolls on the grass encircled by the off ramp while Mark went about removing his parting gift.



It was quite nice enjoying our last meal on the Panam but we were definitely about ready to leave our faithful friend and make our way to a new warmer side of the continent. After having spoken about the town of Victoria for just about 6 months we just went shooting by the little place hardly noticing it was there because we were just so excited to be heading for the Andes. The road from there wasn't too exciting as it was still overcast and little of the mountains ahead could be seen but we did get to help some local ladies push start their car over lunch which provided some entertainment for both us and them.



Later we came to a little town called Curacautín quite early in the afternoon where we had planned to restock. I didn't like the look of the weather, needed to catch up on some much needed blogging and quite liked the look of the little town so the others agreed to see if we could find a cheap place to spend the night. While the others did the shopping I went on a hunt for either a close camp site or a cheap hostel.

After having been sent from pillar to post and not having too much success with finding a bargain hotel I spotted a little tourist office. The tourist officials were so awesomely friendly and also kindly advised me that there weren't any camp sites nearby but gave me directions to the bargain hostel in town. I had been given detailed directions but still managed to get lost so I asked some locals to show me to the place and thank heavens I did because it was just a random house on a little foot path down the back of an alley. An old man very hard of hearing came out and bargain an even lower price but it was only valid if we did not have a hot shower.

Proud of my find I rushed off to find the others who had just finished the shopping. It was good fun leading them back to our secret bargain hostel and I was only too happy to give the old man our business. I hadn't looked at the place because at that price we'd probably ready to take just about anything but we were pleasantly surprised as we just about had a house to ourselves.



Once in the place we found we had two rooms one with two singles and another with a double but this old man was not going to let a double be used as a single. Oh no he preferred to sit and dismantle the entire double bed, drag it out of the room piece by piece and then sit and assemble a single bed. Granted we were only paying for 3 singles but really, if I was the owner, to save myself an hour and a half worth of manual labour, I would have gladly left the double bed!

I was quite relieved we had found the place because just as we brought our bikes and all our stuff in it started to bucket down. I did hear rats running inside the wall just above my head board that night but I just sank a little further down into my bed and quickly nodded off to sleep, as it had been a while since I had been in a real bed I was not about to let a few rats disturb my sleep.

Km113 to Km22: Crossing the Andes Day 1 – Breathtaking Scenery
The next morning as my alarm went off I noticed it was rather bright behind the curtains. I slowly crept over and peaked through the curtains only see a fogged up window so I quickly rubbed a patch clear and all I could see was bright blue sky. We were due to be cycling between 2 snow capped volcanoes that day so all I wanted to do was jump on my bike and go go go! I ran down the passage, like an excited child on Christmas morning running to his parents room, to see if the other guys had too spotted the big blue sky outside window. They had noticed and were quickly gobbling down their breakfast so that we could hit the road before any clouds could ruin the amazing views.




Not far from up the road we began to see the two magnificent snow capped volcanoes on either side. Green, and I mean like really really green fields surrounded us. I felt like I was the luckiest man alive, how could it rain for days and nights on end and then on the one day we pass through one of the most beautiful places on earth the skies clear and we get to see it in all its glory! I was on top of the world and hardly thought it could get better but this was just the beginning.



There was a tunnel further up the road that passed through part of the Andes but one that would be cheating and two very dangerous as we had been advised it was long, often flooded and was infested with crocodiles (I never believed it but sometimes you just have to trust the locals). Fortunately for us there is a pass that goes over the top through the Malacahuello National Reserve providing breathtaking views but it would mean cycling along a rather unfriendly dirt road ascending and then descending 1000m within a 25km section.

When arrived at the turn off to Malacahuello National Reserve we decided to have a good cup of hot something and our sandwiches before we took on the challenge. We soon spotted a sign advertising hot chocolate at one of the many German restaurants in this region, Cafe Aleman – Augsburg. The place was perfect, it was basically a little wooden cabin just off the road set amongst some trees. The owner was just opening up for the day and was quite happy to serve us outside where we had started making our sandwiches for the day. There is a large German community in this part of Chile and they all seem to be running fantastic little restaurants or bed and breakfasts. If this lady started a bed and breakfast I would definitely be back for a visit if not I'll probably be back one day just for another cup of that hot chocolate!



After enjoying a delicious hot chocolate in the sun with fantastic scenery all round the lovely lady who had now taken quite an interest in our travels left us with a parting gift, a key ring brought all the way from here families home town of Augsburg, Germany! Needless to say she received some South African memorabilia in return for which she was quite pleased as she said it was her dream to visit South Africa, I really do hope her dream comes true one day.



Now full of happiness and good eats we headed off for our climb over the pass through the Malacahuello National Reserve. The road was far better than we had expected saying wow if it stays like this then we'll be happy, only to find the road got even better as we went on. The pass was quite steep and after all the rain it may have been hard to pass in car but given the great views we hardly noticed we were ascending. As we went up the scenery slowly changed from green green pastures, to more pine forest like surroundings to snow covered landscape. All the way up the views were of volcanoes and valley below but it just kept getting better as we got higher. Eventually when we got to the top we found a spot not covered in snow and looked over what remained of the Andes ahead and what would ultimately be Argentina. After some good reflection about where we were and how lucky we were to be there with such great weather we started out fast descent down the other side.





The other side of the mountain was almost instantaneously warmer but clearly a lot drier. We we weren't quite in Argentina yet as we still had another pass go over but that would have to wait for the next day. We came screaming down into a charming little town called Lonquimay losing a water bottle every now and again irritating me to no end. As you come hurtling and bumping down the dirt roads it shakes just about everything loose so anything stuck under one of the elastic cords eventually comes off. If you crush a bottle a little bit before pinning it down with an elastic it stays put longer however if it has any gas in it whatsoever, or if you are ascending in altitude, the bottle expands making it nice and smooth and really easy to work itself loose and hence many stops to pick up my now perishing bottle of Fanta.



Once in Lonquimay we set about making our lunch near the local town square. Soon a local school boy came to join us who must have been about 10 years old. First we offered him a little South African soccer ball and then some pens but he wasn't interest. All intellectual Ricardo was interested in was the information pamphlet about South Africa. This little kid was incredibly polite and seemed to know more about South Africa and Africa in general than most of the people we had come across so far put together. He even had some crazy story about an African caterpillar that feeds on the local cactus variety. Ricardo definitely had been taught not to accept gifts from strangers (although information pamphlets seemed to be ok) because he wasn't even interested our sweats when we started digging into them.



All Ricardo was interested in was our stories and South Africa. I think he had a particular interest in us because his dad was apparently from Ecuador and he knew of the places where we had cycled from. Later that day his mom, who I'm quite sure was beginning to worry about these strange men who had befriended her son, came out to take some photos with us. It was then time for Ricardo head home and as his mom led him away he turn and said with a happy tone in Spanish 'Please come and visit us again'. This was quite heart wrenching given we knew it was unlikely we would ever be back in this little town again but hopefully we've inspired Ricardo to perhaps one day get on bike and follows his dreams too.

We had already had a fantastic long day so decided that after lunch we would roll just out of town and find a place to camp but as soon as we got back on the main road towards Argentina we found we had a gradual downhill and a strong tail wind. The border post on this route is quite strange. You exit Chile at the entrance to the Alto BioBio National Reserve and then 22km away on the other side you exit the national reserve and enter into Argentina. Thanks to the tail wind we found ourselves 60km down the road and just outside the entrance to the Alto BioBio National Reserve in no time. To enter the reserve we would need to get our Chilean exit stamp and figured it probably be best not to spend the night in no man's land as we would not have managed the additional 22km so we decided to camp just outside the reserve.



Camping by what essentially is a border post is not something I could ever have imagined myself doing especially not in this crazy dangerous South American continent. However, the truth is that Chile and Argentina are probably just as safe if not safer than any country in Europe so we were quite comfortable setting up campingin a field not more than 500m from the boom which essentially demarcated the edge of Chile. The police did come by later that evening to see what we were up to but once we had explained ourselves they said they were happy for us to camp there and that they would keep an eye out for us.

When I think back on this day it truly was one of the longest and best days I have ever had in my very privileged.

Km22 to Km0 and Km1880 to K1814: Crossing the Andes Day 2 – Cruising into Argentina
The next morning we woke up bright and early ready for the 8am border opening time. First we had to spend the last of our Chilean pesos and because I hd too much many on me I even got lucky enough to change my money at a good rate with the shop keeper. If there is one thing Chile does have it is good chocolate so I stocked up on my favourite slabs and off we went. Getting our exit stamps was easy work even if Mark did get a few extra questions just for having a rather bushy beard.



Once inside the Alto BioBio National Reserve we immediately started to climb but this came as no surprise because one we had been pre-warned that we had a long way up before we would go down into Argentina and two the name of the reserve includes the word 'Alto' meaning high so there was no deluding ourselves. We climb felt like it was never ending and as we looked back on the volcanoes and mountains we had left behind us and conquered on the previous day they almost began to appear quite dwarfed by the pass we were now climbing. Every corner we came around looked as if it was going to be the horizon but then another rise would appear.



Finally we reached the top of the Pino Hachado pass and passed a sign on the other side of the road welcoming visitors to Chile so we assumed we had crossed over in the Argentinian part of the reserve. Not long past this sign the beautiful tar road disappeared and became a perilous steep dirt road down into Argentina, later confirmed by some rusting Argentinian welcome signs. We began hurling towards Argentina at quite a pace now hitting over 50km an hour on bikes not very well balanced also not helped by large stones and lose gravel on the ground. On one corner the road began to slope inwards, I didn't want to fight the gradient as my tire may dig in and send me flying so I just had to follow the gradient and landed up flying over the pile of rocks that had gathered on the inner corner of the turn. Fortunately, I kept my steering straight and bounced rather vigorously over and through the stones amazed and relived that my tires hadn't ripped to shreds. Phew that had been a close call.



At the bottom of the pass after the road seemed to alternate between dirt and tar a few more times we came to the Argentinian border post. Fresh produce apparently was not permitted into Argentina but thanks again to Mark's beard he received most of the attention. One of the guards searching my bag came across my medicine bag and started pulling all sorts of tables and stuff out and was asking what it was for. Most of the medicine I was carrying around I discovered I had no clue what it was used for so just thought up some common condition each time, did a few charades and then the guy would nod and move on to the next pill.



After our big search we explained that the fresh produce they had now pulled form our bags was supposed to be our lunch and since we were 40km or so from the next shop we would need to eat it before going on. They understood and said ok take it just we must eat it all at next rest stop further down the road. That was fine except that we had eaten not that long before at the top of Pino Hachado pass and were thus not hungry at all but not ready to turf our beloved avos, so we just kept going rendering their whole search procedure pretty darn fruitless.

The landscape pretty quickly turned to the semi-desert everyone had told us about looking a lot like parts of the Eastern Cape. As we looked back over our shoulders now leaving the snow capped peaks of the Andes way behind us it brought home how far we had come in the past 2 days.



That afternoon we pulled into our first town in Argentina, Las Lajas, and discovered what we were to discover in every town in Argentina and that is that they shut-up everything at about noon for a siesta and only reopen again at about 6pm. After scouring this small town for an open shop and an ATM we made our way back to the main road, with our wallets and shopping bags full but our tummies empty, where we found a petrol station with a good restaurant/bar. What we have also discovered in these small towns is that often the best restaurant in town is the one at the petrol station just on the edge of town and probably because its the only place open 24 hrs.



We spent the afternoon there and enjoying a meal and a few beers. Later we discovered an ablution block around the back of the petrol station made available to passing truckers so we asked if we could camp on the grass around the back to which they gladly agreed. As we set-up our tents at the back of the petrol station we enjoyed a magnificent sunset looking back over the Andes. We had now successfully crossed the Andes and were now enjoying getting to know our sixth country in South America, and I could honestly not have asked for a better experience.



To see all the pics from Chile click here and from Argentina here.