We headed north on the 28th January on what started off as a sunny but chilly day. It was a strange feeling knowing that this was a purposeful journey back to the northern hemisphere. It wasn´t very long before the wind started to whip up and by the time we hit the first bit of gravel road between the borders the wind was blowing us across the gravel. All a bit scary really. We made it to the border town at San Sebastion for 2pm and booked into the only accomodation there was.
As you can see from the photograph it was nothing more that a rather large tin shack in the middle of absolutely nowhere. There was central heating which came on whenever it felt like it, no electricity until 9pm, no TV and no internet. However, it did have a bar and a fabulous wood burner so we spent the afternoon in there until the generator was switched on and we had lighting in the tin shed.
The next day we attacked the 100kms of gravel road and even though we had no unpleasant memories from the first time we did it there was a feeling of discomfort and a burning desire to get it over with. The road was very quiet as we were really early setting off. I remained on Llama watch as Brian battled on against this horrible and intimidating road surface. No words can describe the relief we felt when we reached the pavement at the end of the road knowing that was the last we would have to do on this trip. We reached the ferry in perfect time and managed to get a free ride before finding ourselves on a desloate and windy road. To the left and the right I could see dark clouds and heavy rainfall so I was particularly relieved when we reached Rio Gregarros and found a hotel we could afford. I didn´t even bother to unpack here, instead we battled the strong wind to pass the Christmas decorations and cross the road for a Pizza, to buy some chocolate and cheap wine and spent the rest of the evening in the hotel room.
In the morning, after putting air in the tyres, we headed off. It was a freezing cold day but sunny (thank goodness) and the only excitement or thing of interest was the way Brian had to battle against the cross winds created by passing trucks. At one point we were so cold that we agreed we needed to stop for a coffee and a warm up. As it goes we couldn´t have chosen a worse town to do this in. There wasn´t a single cafe to be found despite the best efforts of a young boy on a dirt bike who led us round to three different èstablishment only to find that they were all closed.
We pushed on to Puerto San Julian where we found a nice hotel and did a bit of touristic activities - looking round the seafront at a replica sailboat tourist attraction and a memorial to those who died in the Malvinas (Falkland) conflict and then going to eat strawberries and cream in a restaurant overlooking the sea. Brian published a blog that night in which he said some lovely thing about me as a pillion and how proud he was of what we had done.
Janaury 31st and we moved on to Comodoro Rivadavia in the hope of finding somewhere nice to spend New Years Eve. The weather was getting much, much warmer and though it was still very windy it was turning in to a nice warm wind. We tried a couple of hotels which were both very, very rough and had no internet which was necessary so we could contact family. Eventually, we ended up in a very expensive place with a lot of other bikers (Harley riders) who were riding from Brazil to Ushuaia. Really nice guys, lots of hugs and kisses. There was a big New Year bash going on downstairs but we were in bed by 9pm poised ready to ring Mark, Lucy, Shelly and Alex to wish them all a ´happy new year´, drink the minature whiskey bottles dry that Mark (the landlord at the Irish bar in Canoa) had given us and then to sleep. Exciting stuff eh?
On to Trelew where we had intended to stay for a couple of nights because we wanted to go to a local town which had been founded by the Welsh and still had a lot of ´welshness´about it. As it goes Trelew was pretty grim - another town that looked very empty and closed so we decided to go on to Gaiman in the hope of finding somewhere to stay there. This was a tiny little place with signposts written in Spanish and Welsh, red dragons on business boards and very, very warm and welcoming people.
The next day we attacked the 100kms of gravel road and even though we had no unpleasant memories from the first time we did it there was a feeling of discomfort and a burning desire to get it over with. The road was very quiet as we were really early setting off. I remained on Llama watch as Brian battled on against this horrible and intimidating road surface. No words can describe the relief we felt when we reached the pavement at the end of the road knowing that was the last we would have to do on this trip. We reached the ferry in perfect time and managed to get a free ride before finding ourselves on a desloate and windy road. To the left and the right I could see dark clouds and heavy rainfall so I was particularly relieved when we reached Rio Gregarros and found a hotel we could afford. I didn´t even bother to unpack here, instead we battled the strong wind to pass the Christmas decorations and cross the road for a Pizza, to buy some chocolate and cheap wine and spent the rest of the evening in the hotel room.
In the morning, after putting air in the tyres, we headed off. It was a freezing cold day but sunny (thank goodness) and the only excitement or thing of interest was the way Brian had to battle against the cross winds created by passing trucks. At one point we were so cold that we agreed we needed to stop for a coffee and a warm up. As it goes we couldn´t have chosen a worse town to do this in. There wasn´t a single cafe to be found despite the best efforts of a young boy on a dirt bike who led us round to three different èstablishment only to find that they were all closed.We pushed on to Puerto San Julian where we found a nice hotel and did a bit of touristic activities - looking round the seafront at a replica sailboat tourist attraction and a memorial to those who died in the Malvinas (Falkland) conflict and then going to eat strawberries and cream in a restaurant overlooking the sea. Brian published a blog that night in which he said some lovely thing about me as a pillion and how proud he was of what we had done.Janaury 31st and we moved on to Comodoro Rivadavia in the hope of finding somewhere nice to spend New Years Eve. The weather was getting much, much warmer and though it was still very windy it was turning in to a nice warm wind. We tried a couple of hotels which were both very, very rough and had no internet which was necessary so we could contact family. Eventually, we ended up in a very expensive place with a lot of other bikers (Harley riders) who were riding from Brazil to Ushuaia. Really nice guys, lots of hugs and kisses. There was a big New Year bash going on downstairs but we were in bed by 9pm poised ready to ring Mark, Lucy, Shelly and Alex to wish them all a ´happy new year´, drink the minature whiskey bottles dry that Mark (the landlord at the Irish bar in Canoa) had given us and then to sleep. Exciting stuff eh?
On to Trelew where we had intended to stay for a couple of nights because we wanted to go to a local town which had been founded by the Welsh and still had a lot of ´welshness´about it. As it goes Trelew was pretty grim - another town that looked very empty and closed so we decided to go on to Gaiman in the hope of finding somewhere to stay there. This was a tiny little place with signposts written in Spanish and Welsh, red dragons on business boards and very, very warm and welcoming people.
There were very few hotels or hosterias but we managed to find a small place on the main street run by a guy called Pablo who was really keen to help us and make us feel welcome. He even agreed to do a bit of laundry for us which was a God send. Again, after unloading our gear into a very small room, we had difficulty finding somewhere to eat. Everywhere closes for the afternoon and re-opens at 8 or 9 at night which isn´t much good to us when we have been travelling from early in the morning. However, up one of the side streets we did find a restaurant where we could get egg and chips. Fantastic. The owner ther gave us a book to look at which photographs and captions about how the town came to be. It was really, really interesting.In the morning, after Pablo had put some stickers on the shed, we set off for San Antonio Ouste but when we got there it was awful. A couple of hotels, dusty, lots of roads wortks and very, very hot. A quick look at Lonely Planets book, more layers of gear removed and off we went to Viedma which was a truly lovely place. It had a big, beautiful river running through it where friends and families swam, sunbathed and generally had a good time.
The tourist information girls were really helpful and we found ourselves just up the road in a nice hotel across from the river. It was very relaxing and in the morning, though we were ready for an early start, we found it difficult to get away because of all the attention we were getting from other guests and passers by. One guy suggested doing the coast road but we really wanted to do Ruta 3 from end to end. It was nice and bright as we left the town and hit more long, straight and desolate road. Up ahead I could see fog which was something new. We hadn´t seen mist and fog since the Oregon coast. The wind was getting stronger and stronger. To the left I caught a glimpse of something else I hadn´t expected and it made my heart sink. SAND DUNES......... A lot of big sand dunes on the side of the road and sand drifting across the road just ahead of the shed. Brian battled on fighting the gusts of wind and keeping an eye on the road ahead. What I though was fog was actually a sand storm (clearly a common event as there were road signs advising of poor visiblity) and the shed was being sand blasted as we rode through it.
People were passing us in cars with bemused looks on their faces, still giving us the thumbs up but clearly thinking we we quite mad to be attempting to ride through this. The next thing nature threw at us was big black clouds coming our way and we started to question whether to carry on or turn around and go back.
The thought of trying to ride on wet sand in strong winds was very scary. As you will be aware we have made the wrong decision a couple of time on this trip so we were definitely going to be cautious. We agreed to stop at the next town just a few miles away and make our decision there. As it goes we soon came across a small garage and when we arrived there the sun came out again and the sand had all but disappeared and so we agreed to carry on to the next town.So you see, even though heading north felt like the end of the adventure, there was still a bit of excitement ahead. We arrived at Bahia Blanca and found lots of hotels but none of them had parking for the shed. Brian went into 3 of them and when he got back we started to discuss our options. It´s always a horrible part of the day´s riding when you are hotm sticky, tired and just ready to stop and then you have to try and find somewhere to stay, hoping you can find somewhere that has everything you need. Secure parking is at the top of this list and more so since the tent got stolen. Anyway, as we were discussing this a taxi pulled up and a very excited driver started asking about the trip and where we were heading. Before we knew it we were being led by the nose out of the town and back onto Ruta 3. I don´t know why we keep letting this happen but there we were doing something we hadn´t really planned to do and heading out of the town to the next smaller place - Punta Alta.
Trying to find a hotel here proved to be more difficult. It was a big naval town for the naval base Belgrano and also had a big petrol refinery. Eventually though we found a hotel right out of the 70´s with darks, narrow corridors, old fashioned wallpaper and the noisiest air filter system you could imagine.
The elevator still had the old metal concetina doors and the dining tables had plastic cloths and a piece of glass over it to keep it clean. Still, it had secure parking and by this time we were more than ready to stop. On the plus side we found a very strange restaurant that served fantastic steaks so all was well with the world.Our final destination before reaching Buenos Aires was a town called Azul. We had been told about a biker sleep over and meeting place called La Posta and the guy in the local tourist office told us how to get there. We weren´t expecting much as the place didn´t have any fixed charges but accepted donations to help keep it running. When we got there the chap was on holiday but a regular at the place let us in to have a look round and invited us to stay. If we still had the tent it would have been brilliant as there was a lovely garden at the back.
Still, it wasn´t to be so we moved back up onto the Ruta 3 and stayed at a hotel on the roadside which had everything we required.So, that´s it for now. Next time I´m in an internet cafe I´ll post a blog about our stay here in Buenos Aires which, up until now, had been fantastic.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment