The long road north

Sorry about the delay in posting an update but unfortunately the PC we have been using on the trip has now died and communications are proving to be difficult.

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.

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.

Finally, Fin del Mundo

The journey to Ushuaia was a real mixture of emotions. I knew that we had gravel road to travel and that was always going to make me a little nervous. We left Puerto Natales early on quite a grey morning. Fortunately we had put all the layers in our riding gear as pretty soon we were riding in rain with a very icy cold wind. However, it did brighten up as we left the coast and soon we were arriving at Cerro Sombrero, a small oil drilling town and we found the only Hosteria there (which also had one of the few restaurants) The town was only 5kms from the start of the gravel road so I knew we would be riding it feeling fresh and hopefully without any of the very strong winds that you get in Patagonia. True enough, the following day we woke to dead calm and blue skies. The shed behaved herself and Brian was clearly much happier riding her without the added baggage of the camping gear. I, however, didn't have very much to say but this wasn't because I was anxious or concerned about the gravel but more to do with the fact that I had my teeth clamped closed so that I didn't bite my tongue or chip my teeth. The road was incredibly rough and at points gave me 'brain ache' with all the bouncing up and down.

In fact, the ride was really quite good but also quite boring. Brian asked what the scenery was like because he hadn't been able to see much of it due to keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I reassured him that he wasn't really missing anything and that the changes in the road surface were much more frequent than any change in the flat, green landscape. However, just so he could see what he had missed, I took pictures and recorded some of it for him.

I also had a very important job as 'Llama watch'. These things are very quick and in abundance along this road and believe me fences do not keep them in the field or off the road!

We got to the border by 11am and though we got there as coaches arrived we still managed to get through quite quickly. The Argentinian guys were really friendly and helpful and we were soon on our way looking at more sheep and more flat green and then it started to change. The landscape developed hills and mountains, rivers and lakes. The roads were smooth and had sweeping bends. It was beautiful and we both started to really enjoy the ride. We had planned to stay and Rio Grande but when we got there we agreed that it didn't look like a very relaxed or interesting place to stay so we pushed on thinking that we could get to Ushuaia. We made good progress but then we spotted big black clouds over the mountains and neither of us wanted to get into Ushuaia cold and wet so we stopped by Lago Fagnano in Hosteria Kaiken. It was lovely. Our room overlooked the lake, the weather brightened up and the view was spectacular.

It was clear from the interior design that any food or drink at this place was going to be on the expensive side and, as the funds are now getting very low, we decided to have a sandwich and call it a day.

The next morning we were up and away quite early after just a cup of coffee. Once again we were travelling in beautiful sunny but cold weather arriving at Ushuaia around 11.30. Of course we stopped to take photos at the Bienvenidos sign before making our way down into the town and heading towards a restaurant. I didn't really feel how I expected to feel about getting here. There wasn't the sense of achievement I thought I should have nor any sense of the significance of 'fin del Mundo' people tell you about. In fact, as we were waiting for the coffee to arrive Brian and I chatted about our thoughts and tried to figure out why we felt so flat. I thought maybe the ride in had been too short and undemanding and so we had arrived at somewhere that was really just another town. However, that soon changed after we found the hostal we had pre-booked. This was up an unmade, incredibly dusty road where we were confronted with many dogs chasing the shed. It was quite a way out of town and when we finally found it we were fully intent on cancelling the reservation and heading back into town. All this changed when we got in and found it to be warm and welcoming. We thought we'd give it a try and what a wise decision that was. The view from the bedroom looked right over Ushuaia town and across to the mountains. We could see the cruise ships coming into the port and Elenilda, the lady who ran it, was incredibly helpful. After we had booked into the hostal we rode the remaining 22kms of dirt road

to the end of the world sign post where it really dawned on me just what a special place it was. Lots of people were walking, cycling or driving to or from it and people at the post were offering to take each others photographs. There was just a general feeling of having common bond. We recorded our Christmas greeting for the blog and took a special photo for Henri before heading back and finally parking the shed for a few days.

John, a guy we had spent some time with in Panama had contacted us to say he was in Ushuaia so we arranged to meet up that night. Now, I was expecting a big Christmas party atmosphere in this town with all the back packers and bikers there should be milling around but to our surprise the town was dead. No restaurants or bars open, and believe me we tried very, very hard to find one. Luckily we managed to find a shop selling beer and whiskey so armed with our supplies we headed back to John's hostal where we were very kindly invited to join their Christmas Eve BBQ. We spent the evening sat round a table chatting to travellers from France, Argentina, Canada and Brazil. Huge platters of meat were brought out and the wine flowed easily. It was certainly a remarkable and memorable Christmas Eve.

In the morning we got in touch with as many family members as we could on Skype. Unfortunately I just missed my son and his partner (Mark and Kay) and had to leave them until much later and the same situation with Brian's parents. My Mum was delighted to hear that we had reached the end of the road and were now going to be heading back north and home. It seems that getting this news was the best Christmas present she could have been given. For Christmas dinner we went to a chinese restaurant for an 'all you can eat' buffet. There was very little choice of place to go because many of them were closed for the day.

We spent the next couple of days visiting the town, locating stickers and postcards and booking a trip out to the Island where we could walk around the Penguins. Something we had both been looking forward to.

On 27th December we were up and out at 7.30am and then on the bus to the ranch where the boat was launched to take us to the island. We stopped a a couple of beauty spots to take photos one of which showed clear evidence of how strong the winds are in this part of the world.

Our guide was a lovely young girl who had a very difficult job with members of our group. She patiently explained the rules about visiting the colony and emphasised that it was breeding time, many chicks were being nurtured and that we had to keep our distance, not linger around the burrows too long and must stick to the trail keeping together at all times. Simple enough rules you'd think but clearly not meant for everyone judging by the behaviour of a group of six travelling together and a guy from Vancouver who were hell bent on getting up close and uncomfortable, splintering away from the group and walking where the hell the wanted to. It never ceases to amaze me how little consideration and respect people have for each other or the environment and how people can be so full of their own feeling of self importance so as to believe the rules do not apply to them. Still, the guide managed it beautifully by informing them that if they could not abide by the rules she would call the boat back to take them off the island. It was amazing being amongst the penguins and there chicks.


Lots of photographs were taken and it was yet another memorable experience.

And that was that. Back to the hostal, packed and paid the bill. The lady that ran the hostal gave us a complimentary bottle of pink champagne as part of the festive season booking there. It helped us chill and prepare ourselves ready for
leaving and heading back north and home.