Purmamarca

A wet start, but not too bad, The R9 was a bit narrow but became two lanes on the climb (all the slow moving trucks, I guess). The climbing was quite hard. I was disheartened that we weren't making much progress, but assured me were were, just that it was a long straight road that doesn't LOOK steep, but is.

We bought something calle quesillo and we weren't sure whether it was to be eaten raw or needed cooking. It looked like raw dough. The ten year old girl selling it form the farm assured us we could eat it and looked at us funny. How could she know we'd never seen quesillo before.

Later we bought some grapes from another house stall and peaches, as we wound through the multi-hued, colourful rock. It was in reds, blues, purples, white. Absolutely beautiful.

We got to Purmamara - Lods of hostels and backpackers. We've asked about the state of provision on R52. Nada.  This is going to mean careful water and food planning. Th chap at the campsite said that as far as he knows there are no shops, no villages and nowhere to pick up water. There is nothing there.

dist 50.41km

ride time 4:24:01

average 11.4kph

max 49.5kph max

starting alti 2275

trip alti 1016 

max alti 2281

Rain in Yala

Next morning, I went for a wee and li'l doggy was so so so pleased to see me. I was sad to leave her behind. She ran after us for quite a while and it broke my heart to leave her.
Ruta 9 ain't much fun to ride. It's rather narrow and cars don't always give you adequate room.
We stopped at Yala, 5km short of Lazano, where we were originally planning to stop, as at least we KNOW it has a decent campsite (and hot showers, clean loos and a pretty decent restaurant). The food here was excellent. I said so to the cook and he blushed. The rain is very heavy. I wonder if this is part of the weather system that's flooded Bolivia.

dist 44.64km
ride time 3:05:22
average 14.4kph
max 50kph max
starting alti 1400
trip alti 440
max alti 1459

Breakfast on the road - and interested mutts

Finally we got out of Salta and what a terrific ride. A winding, lush, mountain pass. Gentle inclines, long, slow descents, the road was winding and twisting around the sides of the mountain. We passed beautiful lakes, jungle like greenery (including a wonderful plant that coated tress making them gorilla arms). This road was the most fun to ride and I reckon a bike is the best way to see it.

Gorilla Arms

The campsite was 3km before the town, so a 70km day became a 77km day, going to and fro.
The campsite was almost empty, except for some scouts nearby who were rigging up ropes in the tree and later a group of tossers turned up to play their music at max volume, as is their wont in Argentina. They played the shitparade well into the night and then again in the morning.

A wee doggy (a brindle Jack Russel, a mild little thing) has taken to us and cuddled up with me in the evening, even though we haven't (and won't) feed her. I was sad to chuck her off the thermarest when it was bed time.

dist 77.53km
ride time 5:13:54
average 14.8kph
max 42.5kph
starting alti 1180
trip alti 644
max alti 1539

I feel much better today. I wasn't able to eat anything yesterday so today has been set aside for refuelling so we can get on the move again tomorrow. We're just not making much progress on this part of the trip. Both Al and I can't wait to get out of Argentina. It's frustrating and I've been ill three days now. It must have been the chicken at the buffet on Monday.

We're also a bit concerned about our multifuel stove. Al thinks there might be a probelm with the pump. We can't afford to have that break, as we'll probably be wild camping along the Ruta 52. It's a climb and only Susques for a place to get food.

The Argentinian couple camped  next to us left today. He played the trunpet, so went up in my estimation immediately. They gave us a demo CD of their band (Cumbia Choriza). The cover has a cartoon of the band members drawn as sausages. We have no means of playing it so we'll send it home.

As part of Operation Feed Me we stopped at a Parilla place and unbeknownst to us had ordered 2 bowls of chips, some bread and a mixed grill for two. Now, it might not be the wisest thing to eat greasy, barbecued food when recovering, but in Argentina, there really isn't very much choice.

This mixed grill would feed about 4 people with ribs, steak, sausages, intestines, kidneys, something weird that we thinks he said were uterus.It was sort of spongey and very peculiar.
All this was far too much for us so she halved it but still we couldn't manage it.

Ever since lunch, Al has been feeling unwell too, now. It's been sat in his stomach, going nowhere. Perhaps it's all that salt and fat in it. We watched the cook pick up salt by the handful and throw it over the food. I hope Al's not falling ill. We need to get out of Salta!

dist 47.24km
ride time 3:38:07
average 12.9kph
max 27.5kph
starting alti 1186
trip alti 102
max alti 1295

Sick in Salta

I got up and staggered to the loo block. Vomit and diarrhoea, I just wasn't sure which one first. This was every bit as bad as the case in France in Falaise.

I prefer a bit of privacy when I'm this ill and at that hour those loos are deserted, so I went a few more times.
During the day, I felt absolutely awful. I don't think I've ever felt worse. Even drinking water was hard to manage.I could barely move and I suspect I had barely a mineral salt left in me. Not being able to drink even water made me decide to take the immodium and a couple of sachets of rehydration mix.

Some hours later (and 3 more immodium and 4 sachets of dioralyte later) I began to feel bearable again. Not well but I could move. The short walk to the loo block was almost unbearable, but since the alternative is to poo right here, I did it. I could only move extremely slowly, I was so weak.

Over time, I eventually managed to have enough water to pee (excellent) so it being urgent I faced the squat loo. That was a mistake as I made a mess on the floor for facing the wrong way. Then I discovered the flush wasn't working but fortunately I'd been taking in a water bottle for clean ups (so much better than loo paper, which we didn't have anyway) so I managed to get the loo back into a usable condition.

Also, fortunately the afternoon has been cloudy, windy and overall much cooler than morning and previous days. I've been running a temperature, but not suffered from overheating in the sun today.

Salta

We cycled through a mad one-way system in Salta and in the centre found the main square. We set up base at a WiFi cafe, settling at a table right next to a power socket. Result!
Lots of Google-Earthing to check upcoming altitudes.
The place had a buffet for a set price, so we had lunch here. By 3pm we'd done what we needed and cycled back. All the shops were shut for their siesta, even though the air-conditioned shops remove any need to sleep off the heat of the day. I guess it's a habit, and helps them stay up all night to make lots of noise.
The one-way system again befuddled us and we ended up God knows where, turned a corner and hey presto, there was our road. Bizarre.
We had a barbecue that evening, as most (all?) Argentinian campsites have stone bbq for people to us. I don't think they ever cook by any other method.
That night we had dogs fighting in the area (cos they don't neuter their dogs here) and someone played music until about 3am.
I felt rather peculiar. I desperately wanted water, it was beyond thirsty. It felt like my life depended on it. I guzzled a load down and went back to sleep.
In the night I noticed my stomach was aching and I felt as though I ould be sick.

Arrival in Salta

We cycled to Salta. the road was pretty big but there are smaller roads that run parallel which we used. We did have one moron who gentle tooted behind us (an indication they're about to overtake) and he overtook and then did an immediate right turn, cutting us up in the process at great speed.

I nearly cycled into the side of him. I shouted hoarsely (I have lost my voice), so Al shouted "Knobber!!!" on my behalf.People waiting at a nearby bus stop, who'd seen the incident, shook their heads in disbelief.

The roads were scary big but we found our way around and spotted a sign for the campsite. We followed it but then no more appeared. We asked and no one knew of a campsite in the area.

We carried on further into Salta. Normally we communicate by shouting to each other while cycling along, but I've lost my voice so can only manage a hoarse croak. I found this frustrating.

Eventually we saw signs for municipal campsite  (nowhere NEAR where the earlier sign had pointed) which had hot showers, albeit nearly a mile from where we pitched our tent. The banos nearer to us were only squat loos in cubicles with either no locks or no doors at all. Using the squat loos later, I realised why people had removed the doors. They opened inwards and you nearly fell down the hole trying to leave the cubicle.

The campsite had the most enormous swimming pool I have ever seen and by evening, most day visitors had left. This meant a quiet night, which is quite the novelty.

La Merced - The Flood

A proper QUIET night's sleep and in a proper bed.
The cyle ride to La Merced was okay but the last hour or two was painful. I got too hot and we went through a lot of water. When we got to La Merced we saw a rather posh looking campsite. The guy on the gate was a surly bastard and said there was no camping - despite standing right by a sign with horario de camping written on it.
He said there was no camping in La Merced (our map said otherwise) and that the next place was Salta. We were so tired so I said: "pero es lejos" (but it's far) and he shrugged and said Si. He was obviously trained at the same customer service college as the people in Cafayate, where they just ignore you so you'll go away. He went to ignoring us so we left.

La Merced turned out to be a dump with unkempt streets. An ugly place. Our map claimed La Merced has municipal camping, and these are often at the edge of town, so we headed there.

We came across a tourist information signpost by a park with an enormous 20ft Jesus statue in one corner.
There was a set of three small buildings by it and an old man sat by one. We went to talk to him and he said we could camp in the field for 30 pesos. He pointed to a spot and insisted we put our tent there. We did and cooked up.
He kept fussing over us, checking whether we were okay and kept asking about our tent in the rain. We know how crappy Argentinians' tents are, so we assured him our tent was 'muy impermeable' and showed him the sewn in bathtub base. Our tent was very waterproof and assured him we were fine.

we had a cold shower from the basic shower room. It was a swivel garden tap on the wall with a hole in the tiles where the water poured from. Basic but effective.

We went to bed just as a thunderstorm neared. It was another spectacle wth strobe-lightning, thunder all around us and it was getting nearer. It was so close, I was very glad of the 20foot Jesus statue - that would cop any lightning, not us. The wind picked up and gave our tent a really thorough shaking. We hadn't fully pegged out the tent, so Al went out (in his pants) to peg out all the guy lines. It was such a downpour so he got soaked, as did his sleeping bag liner which had got tucked into his pants. I decided to put on my merino wool pyjamas so he could have my liner.

It's just as well I did that. As Al dried himself, I noticed the floor of the tent was like a waterbed. My full length thermarest and it was afloat!

Although the base of the tent has a hydrostatic of head of 10,000m, our body weight pushing down onto the base of tent would mean water gets through eventually. We decided to pack away our sleeping bags into their waterproof bags and I sealed the netbook's waterproof bag I sealed a bit better.

We lay there, hoping the flooding would subside and drain. However, my thermarest was getting nearer the ceiling of the tent and I could not push down on the floor of the tent and find solid ground, so we decided to carefully abandon tent, trying not to let water flood over the threshold.

When we stepped out of the tent, we got quite a shock - the water was halfway up our shins. Al's headtorch stopped working, so I was the only one with any light. The storm had knocked out power locally, so even the huts were dark. The old boy lived in one of these huts, which are built on higher ground with a concrete base, so we quickly moved our stuff onto this bit of dry ground, and the water was still rising.

it was now almost to my knees and the bikes' hubs were submerged. Water was higher than the doors of the tent and to stop th tent being washed away, we opened both doors to allow the water to flow freely through it.

We now had to wake the old chap, who we'd assured of our waterproofness of tent. He unlocked one of the huts and we slept on the floor.


Miraculously, our stuff stayed dry. My panniers I had closed up and they had kept the water out very well. All our clothes, raincoats, sleeping bags, first aid box had all remained dry. It's just as well we acted when we did. That base of our tent bought us time to get all the stuff out.

The biggests disaster was our document wallet (e-ticket, travellers cheques, driving licences and vaccination certificates) got wet, so we dried them out the next day.
So, Argentinians have kept us awake every night, so the one night we're camped along, the wether steps in.

dist 76.42km
ride time 4:52:00
average 15.6kph
max 38.5kph max
starting alti 1275
trip alti 509
max alti 1328

Campers were talking until the early hours and they helpfully left the light on that shone straight down onto our tent. Again, we got little sleep. This is getting ridiculous.
Argentinians have shitty tents and the all-night talkers had such a bad ridge tent, their feet were poking out the ends. I guess they've never heard of mosquitoes.

The cycling today was pretty good. We had beautiful scenery, like monument valley. We kept seeing signs saying "Zona De Badeness" but we don't know what that means.

There was a fascinating variety of rocks on this winding desert road. It got pretty hot though, and we ran out of water. We bought some grapes from a house we passed and they gave us water. She looked at our bikes and said we were 'loco'.

We clocked 100km and were pooped. We saw a stop that advertised WiFi, so we pulled in for a drink and some google-earthing.
It turned out their WiFi wasn't working but they went off to fix it by wiggling the cable atop a ladder.It worked, so we were happy. We were so tired we decided to stop here. They had cabañas for AR$160, which is a lot of money, but we were so tired we took it.

The cabaña was lovely. we had a bath (and left a ring around it) and did a lot of google-earthing. It looks as though we have some formidable days ahead of us after San Salvador De Jujuy. It's a shame to have lost so much altitude from the 68, but we'll gain it again. We're fitter now than we were.

back on the worst road in the world

We woke at 6.30 and packed our stuff up. We saw no horses.
I wasn't looking forwards to 27km of the terrible, terrible road, but we had to do it.
It was, as expected, awful. Every second of it. I was counting off quarter kilometres. this wasn't easy, as taking your eyes off the road was almost impossible. At least we were fresher and the air temperature was cooler in the morning.

note the wonky tyre marks. I very nearly fell off.

 We had a rest break every 5km and I wasn't feeling very well. I didn't want any food and not even water. I wanted a poo. But y'know, you wait until you can get to a loo, right?
After some hours, I still felt awful and since we're in the desert, I followed Al's suggestion to just find a hidden spot and go. Who's going to care about a poo in the desert I'm going to bury, anyway?
Walking back to the bike afterwards, I felt 100% better. That was all it was. Miraculously, my ability to take on food and water returned.

I hate this road

We were being shaken violently on this road, it was hard to keep control of the bike, I'd nearly fallen off umpteen times. The last few turns of the road I kept thinking: "is that tarmac up there?" but always no. We went through another patch of deep sand but up ahead, we saw tarmac. It felt so gooooood to be on such a smooth surface again.

We got to a pretty town called San Carlos. It had an inviting hostel overlooking the park, but stopping here means a 20km ride just to get to our R68 plan B. We pushed on to Animaná.
It was hot and we got there hot and tired. We passed a sign for accommodation and another for camping. DO we treat oursevles to a room?


We passed the place and it didn't look great, so we explored the town and found the campsite. It was pretty nie with shady spots and a swimming pool!!!! we put our tent up and jumped into our swimming cozzies as quick as we could. Bliss.

Later we went in search of a shop for food. There wasn't much in this tiny, gloomy room but we bought some stale bread and frosties type cereal.

dist 44.2km
ride time 4:02:29
average 10.9kph
max 25 kph max
starting alti 1653m
trip alti 732
max alti 1849 .

the worst road in the world

We did indeed get another concert and it went on until 6.30 but unlike yesterday, it finished promptly. I wanted to murder them. They've robbed me of two nights' sleep. We got up and packed our things away. Some people obviously got some sleep, as we could hear someone snoring loudly. I thought it odd that someone else found this enough of a noise-nuisance to try to wake him.

We had 30km of good tarmac and then it all turned very nasty. Grit - deep grit and sand, It got to the point where it no longer mattered whether you were going uphill or downhill, as the effort was not much different. It was all about trying to stay on the bike and keep it moving forwards. We were constantly battling for control. Sinking into sand meant having to carefully choose your route to keep yourself from falling off and putting in extra power to get out before you're sucked too deeply.

There were corrugations, like a washboard which shook you violently, but at least you knew this was solid ground and so preferable to deep sand.

I no longer cycled with my SPD clipped in, in case I quickly needed to put a foot down. We had 40km of this. After 25km we got our map out. Decision time. We were hot, exhausted, sick of the road.
According to the map, it looked like this road continues for another 4 or more days of riding before we can get off it. Or we turn around. It seems wrong to turn around when we'd worked so hard to get this far. You don't want it to have all been in vain.

But when I realised that the choices were: 4 days of this to go on or 1 day of this to turn around, I would have been making a sunk-cost error to go on.

We decided to wild camp. A yellow taxi had given us some water, took our photo and so we could at least camp up and cook.

I admit the idea of doing another day of this road was unappealing, especially since every mile we struggled through today is an extra mile we have to do tomorrow, but in the long run it's the most sensible choice.
too much sand to continue.
we wild camped under a tree, just out of sight of the road.There were lots of hoofprints about so I had a look around to see whether gouchos come this way often. they normally travel with dogs, but I couldn't see any paw prints.

Eventually we braved putting up the tent and as we cooke dinner, a gunshot rang out in the desert. -Gulp-
We ate dinner and sat and watched the stars come out. Th deserts are the best places to see the night sky.
As it got pitch black, we heard hoofs on sand approaching. It was far too dark to see, but they were definitely getting closer.

We didn't want to use a torch, as it would attract attention. We moved a little nearer and the hoove sped away. These must be riderless horses, spooked by us.
They were obviously curious as they came back, but this time on the other side of some shrubs. Another noise and they ran off.



I didn't want horses to accidentally trample our tent, so we made noises to shoo them.
The night sky was fabulous. I've never seen so many stars. HOw much we lose from light pollution.
W went to bed and listened out for the hoof noises again. There was some whinnying and in the night I was woken by an equine cough, but other than that they left us alone. Perhaps we'd pitched up where they like to sleep and they were too polite to say.

distance 60.11km
ride time 5:14:39,
average 11.4kph
max 34kph max
starting alti 1859
trip alti 478
max alti 1875

Cafayate - still no sleep

What a terrible night. What is wrong with these people?! They somehow always seem to come with something worse, upping the ante but all-night concerts up the road from the campsite is taking things a bit too far. What next? Earthquakes?
It's getting to the point where I think: "shall we wild camp or rough it at a campsite?"
For eats we wanted to buy some food at the campsite. There was a sign advertising empanadas and pizza. We saw some people putting empanadas into an oven. We asked whether we could have some and they said no. We were mystified because right next to them was a board advertising empanadas with the price. We asked after something to drink and theyncarelessly pointed us to another building. Inside was a shop where we bought drinks and asked after food. She sent us back to where the oven was.
We stood by the oven watching them putting empanadas we couldn't have into the oven. No one came to ask us whether we wanted something else.
In the end we took a more direct approach and asked whether we could have pizza instead. There we got a yes so we had finally managed to secure food. These Argentinians are hard work.
In the evening we began to hear soundchecks. Another sleepless night, then. This time, we'll be up and dressed before it stops, no doubt.

distance 72.42km
ride time 4:51:33
average 24.9kph
max 49kph
woke 1646m alti
trip alti 215
max alti 2018

Cafayate

We had a large pasta dinner last night and I ate too much, so felt unwell.
A nice-looking little dog came over and I gave her a tummy rub.
Next morning I felt decidedly under par. Definitely a dicky tummy.
Out of the town we came across some fabulously designed gates.

The road to Colalao was mosty downhill and easy. We passed through it and continued on to Cafayate. The scenery was desert with candelabra styel cacti. A lot had been cleared and been turned into vineyards. Kilometre signage was a bit haphazard, with a 17km and 16km sign more than 8km apart!

Al went for another al fresco poo, as he had a dicky tummy, too. I wasn't brave enough to.
It was hot and I found the last 20km more of a struggle than they should have beeen.
We passed acres of grapevines and then found the campsite. It's pretty sandy, but seems okay if a little crowded.
The loos are the best so far and the showers would get top mark if they had hot water and somewhere to put your clothes (surely they don't expect you to turn up for your shower completely naked?)

The town seems to cater to wealthy tourists here to do wine tours. There are restaurants and comfortable-looking hotels. Definitely not like places we've been to so far. We couldn't find a supermarket, though.

We had a steak dinner and noticed quite a few international tourists, including a middle class dutch twit and his wife. They had difficulty understanding the menu but weren't prepared to do what we do: order it anyway and see what you get. When we told them the mystery word on the menu was mutton, he fretted that it might be too fatty.
We ate, paid and got into our tent and were then kept awake by some outdoor concert being held just a few blocks away.

At 2.45 I checked my watch and thought: "I know you're all night owls, but c'mon, bedtime now".
The music went on all night. I last checked my watch at 6.30 am, long after the male singes had stopped being able to hit all the right notes (they must have been as tired as I was).
After listening to several hours of their singing in and out of tune, I was fuming. If we hadn't decided to spend an extra day here, we'd be getting up after no night's sleep. I think we should declare war on Argentina.

one dry town

My knee is still sore. I tried to keep changing its position in the night to prevent it seizing up. The swelling has gone down a little.
We headed into town for a poo among other things, as our campsite still has no water. There is a tap that works but it's round the back of the building.
As to the poo, we went to a bar in town. I used the loo but then discovered the cistern was empty. A tap did work, but there was no bucket. I ended up filling waster paper bin with water to flush. This is one dry town!
This place is far more how I imagined South America to be. It's like a proper pueblo.
Also, now that we have cracked lips, sunburn, hair like rope, I feel more like we're on the road. Up until now, wearing clean-smelling clothing, I've still felt too fresh from Hove.

dist 56.19km
ride time 5:19:03
average 10.5kph
max 75kph
current altitude 1999
trip alti 1099
max alti 2983 max alti

Amaicha

We set off at 7am, expecting a gruelling 1000m climb, like our climb to El Mollar and we were curious as to the effects of 3000m altitude.
In fact, we were gaining altitude with ease. I started to doubt the accuracy of my altimeter. It did get very hard when the road surface became gravel - or rather sand with pebbles and rocks. It makes it so much harder work. THe cars that overtake throw up loads of dust. Both Al and I noticed the dryness of the air in our throats, which was not helped by inhaling dust at frequent intervals.

We pushed on and the road surface became patched tarmac, repaired a spoonful at a time, but still better than dust and rocks.
It semed to easy as we reached the top. We had lunch of sardines in lemon oil as two cycle tourers came up from the other side: a couple. He gave us a whoop and a triumphant high-five and we congratulated each other.

Wehn we started our descent down the other side, the differene in climate and vegetation was astounding. Tafi side had been green pastures, crops whereas the Amaicha side looked like the Wild West. It supported only cacti, was dry, dusty, rocky - and hot. There were a couple of uphills, which I thought was not on, but then our descent proper began.


the road surface was more of that patched up tarmac, which made for a bumpy ride. Mostly, the descent was not one to go crazy down - too many bends. But on one stretchwe just fewl down. Al's cycle computer read max speed of 47mph, mine aid 75pkh.

It was exhilirating and a bit dangerous (although not as dangerous as earlier when the bungee holding my thermarest to my rear rack cmae loose, attached itself to the spokes and had begun to wrap itself around my rear hub. Much further and I've have been thrown off my bike into a ravine.

It was hours later though, when I came off my bike. I hadn't seen Al pull into the entrance of Apimpa observatory until it was too late. I was going too fast to tackle the deep sand/gravel and my bike went over sideway and I hit my knee on a rock. A tanker passed just then, so it's lucky I fell away from the road and not into it.
The knock brought tears to my eyes but I was otherwise unhurt.
We cycled on into the town, waves of hot air washing over us. The campsite we passed was cammed, cheek by jowl with tents, like Glastonbury. We stopped at a cafe to cool down.

Going into the town, there was some sort of festival going on and I hadn't expected to cycle past a table and get sprayed with shaving foam. Disorientated and with a swelling knee, I was NOT in the mood.

There seemed to be accommodation to be had anywhere (it turned out to be carneval). We asked at a service station whether we could camp on their grounds but no.

I burst into tears again, at the hopelessness. I was tired out, hot and my knee was getting more and more painful. I didn't fancy the prospect of cycling another 14km to the next place with my sore knee.

Random strangers offered us their sandwiches and some ice cold Sprite and chatted. I understood about 30% of what she said but she was very nice.
We cycled back into own and found the other campsite, pitched our tent in the shade. we were told this campsite had no hot water. I realluy don't mind that, not when I'm this hot.
However, as we later discovered, it turned out there wasn't any cold water, either. A girl appeared and said I could use the shower in the house.

It was the campsite owner's howm shower and, while basic, it was wonderful. I was profuse in my thanks.
AL made do with a wash under one of our water bags.
We then went off to see the festivities going on in the town. I was still not in the mood for anything lively but went along anyway.

It was a good place to sample some street food (choripan - chorizo in a bread roll) and just amble through the crowds. People were covering other people with coloured powder - reds, yellows, and were having fun spraying each other with spray foam. There were a lot of gouchos showing off their horses. They paraded through cheering crowds and later there was some sort of horse event in the stadium by the campsite. We certainly had a lot of horses milling around the campsite, waiting for their turn. The leather craft that goes with it is beautiful.

Loud campers these Argentinians

We woke to a beautiful sunny morning. I didn't feel so unwell and, like yesterday, felt bright, alert and ready to leap out of bed. I even made the tea and normally Al is the one up and moving first in the mornings.

Not long after this, we had three sources of overloud music to grumble about. Actually, the noise seems to be at another part of the campsite, so it's slightly more quiet today. That doesn't stop people letting their kids tear around the campsite on a quadbike and a car with enormous speakers sticking out of the hatchback playing really LOUD advertising from driving slowly through the campsite and then back out onto the streets again.

We had some chocolate yesterday. It was the recognisable Milka brand, but curiously it turned to dust in your mouth. Also, Al and I both saw the hummingbird. A beautiful fuchsia back, gold and black, long tail.

dist 23.04km
ride time 2:21:55
average 9.7kph
max 35.5kph
slept at 2208m
trip alti 472
max alti 2217

No Sleep in Tafi Del Valle

We woke up at eight after rather a good night's sleep  - a novetly so far - and even that is despite waking up twice in the night to a heinous smell, produced either by me, by Al or both.
I felt bright as a button and chirpy for some reason.

We were first to emerge from the tent, since Argentinians aren't early risers. Noisy bugggers late into the night instead. I felt like giving them a taste of their own medicine by making plenty of noise in the morning. I don't have a stereo to put on at full blast, tuned to Shit.FM. or a motorbike engine to rev.

Al came back excitedly from the loos - not to tell me about some magnificent poo, but to tell me he'd seen a hummingbird. We went back with the camera but it had gone.

It's definitely cooler up here in the mountains - 16°C this morning.

 We did a load of washing this morning. It'll be nice to have clean clothes again.

Because Argentinian food is so bland, we've decided to do our own cooking, but supermarkets don't exactly offer much, either.

we had some fun and games at the bank today. We wanted to buy some dollars, so we joined the long queue that went to outside the bank. When we got to the counter, they said they couldn't sell any to non-account holders. We were taken to the ATM. We thought we might be able to withdraw dollars here, but it was only pesos. Did they really think we didn't know how to use an ATM?

Using banks abroad is often rather futile, but at least we didn't get the queue disbanded by armed men, like in India.
We checked on Google Earth what our next route entails, altitude wise. The campsite we're heading to is only 200m higher than this one at Tafi Del Valle, but Google Earth showed we have a road to follow that goes up to 3000m before dropping down to 2200. So, another 1000m climb. Because of that, we're going to take another rest day, even though the camper nearest to us has had his shit music blaring all flippin' day!

Al cooked up some pasta for lunch with onion, tomato, pepper and chorizo. Sad to say, it's probably the best tasting meal we've had in Argentina, excepting, perhaps the Arabian food we had in Famailla.

We spent the afternoon lounging around the campsite. I would say relaxing but we had a shithead blasting his pumping music from his car, with all the doors wide open. It's some sort of shitty cumbia music and what makes it even more annoying is that he has music ADHD. Each track plays only about 5 minutes before he hits next. Five minutes later he's gone to the next track, over and over again.

Al says I'm getting less tolerant. I disagree. I haven't killed this man yet.

We went out for dinner but I felt very unwell, as though I were running a temperature. I hardly ate. The restaurant where we ate had WiFi and I briefly chatted to Robyn on facebook.

Argentina in General

Argentina - Things To Note
-you get a steak knife as standard
-ham and cheese with everything
-argentinians are ugly people - very blobby
-they love camping but are in crappy tents
-inconsiderate with noise and space
-po-faced
-scenery is beautiful in the north
-dark, understocked supermarkets
-driving is poor, as is the condition of the cars
-they are late eaters and late risers
-bad food (no herbs or spices are used) very bland
-people are nice when you get to talk to them  - ice breaking
-the birds are quite tame
-stale bread is sold by the kilo
-what exactly IS a tortilla? it seems something different eath time
-male dogs are everywhere

Tafí Del Valle

The white water river close to our camping spot kept managing to convince me we were camped on the edge of it and a rolling over would see me fall into the raging torrent. When awake enough to be rational, I'd remember the position of the tent and know that was nonsense.
The next morning we woke and struck camp, pleased we'd found such a good spot where we weren't disturbed.

We had baby porridge for breakfast and now I know why babies spit out their food. It's nutritious with vitamins and minerals, is easily digested but it's not very tasty and not top of my breakfast favourites.
We set off for the last bit of climbing to El Mollar, but I'd left my cycling glove at the camp spot. Al went back to get it for me  - what a gentleman.

We got to El Mollar pretty quickly after some beautiful pastures with a calmer La Sosa river meandering through it. Realising how close to finishing we'd got could have been annoying, but actually I was pleased at how far we'd got yesterday. What a climb!

Because El Mollar was so close we de cided to push on for the slightly bigger Tafi Del Valle for our rest day. It was mostly flat, so was easy, really.

The campsite is pretty big and even has a shop. We bought bread - french stick cold by the kilo and cut into chunks - to ensure it gets stale before sale.

Al went off to inspect los baños (the loos). The good thing about travelling with a fella is you get less unwanted male attention. The disadvantage is him boasting about the impressiveness of his most recent stool (or is that just mine?).
The loos are actually ok and the showers are quite hot. Just as well, because the weather is a bit cold and it keeps raining. I have still to find a loo cubicle with a lockable door.
Also: al fresco wees = 4. of which successful = 2. Quilmes, a beer brewed just up the road  is pretty tasteless, but the Quilmes negro (a stout) is actually not half bad.

Dist 23.04km
ride time 2:21:55
average speed 9.78kph
trip alti 472m
max alti 227m

El Mollar climb

We got up good an early this time and started at 6 am. It was still dark when we set off but soon the sun came up. The climbing started about 9 am and I was pleased when we passed where we'd turned back yesterday. Of course, we still had a long way to go.

We climbed and climbed and climbed. Hairpin bends, up and up we continued. Lots of gawping car and bus passengers. We passed a viewpoint at El Indio. People were staring at us instead of the view. What must they think?
Occasionally you'd look ahead and see a car or truck climbing up on a diagonal across a rock face on the next section of road. Oh God, I'd think - but mostly we just took it one pedal stroke at a time and that seemed to get us up.

As the afternoon wore on, we wore out. The stops we needed more frequent, the pedalling slower and harder. We'd gone through cloud, were drenched from rain and I began to look out for spots to bail out early. Eventually we saw a good little spot for wild camping. It was a picnic spot that went quite far from the road.

Settled - we're sleeping part way up the mountain.

A dinner of rice and dubious corned beef later and we were soon tucked into our sleeping bags.

distance 52.77km
ride time 5:47:00
Avg 9.10kph
max 40kph
trip alti 1246

Rest Day

We had a rest day today. We ate lunch at the same cafe we'd had dinner yesterday. Instead of the jamon y queso, we opted for the mexicana - that turned out to be the same thing but with a tomato on top. I had wrongly assumed the mexicana might have some herb or spice added to it, but no such luck. Argentina knows only salt.
In the evening we stumbled across an Arabian restaurant, where we ate fantastic flat bread, tabbouleh and tasty kofta kebabs. It was delicious.

Training Day

First Al Fresco poo (by Al). The cycle ride to El Mollar started out flat for 30km, then we began to climb. it got hotter and hotter and we kept having to stop to cool down. Even every 2km. I noticed I was trembling. At about 40km (25km to go) we couldn't really manage any more climbing, so we turned around to head back. We were stopping at every kilometre by now.

The downhills were amazing but of course followed by 30km on the flat and by now blazing hot road. There was no shade, so we suffered quite a bit on that last stretch. I badly burned my hands and this training ride reminded us how dangerous heat and hills can be. We were dowsing ourselves with water and still were too hot.

Other incidents included a shewee misadventure and an old boy talking at me in untelligble Spanish for the best part of 20 minutes and concluding with his telling me how good my Spanish is. All I'd said was "si, si" throughout.
How glad we were to get back to the hotel for a shower and a lie down.

Los Ladrones

Last night, we returned to our tent after dinner and the noisy Argentinians came over to tell us some kids had been through our tent and they'd chased them away. One was a Falklands veteran, which made for an awkward moment. Both were pretty drunk, shook our hands and kissed our cheeks umpteen times, wanted to invite us over for wine but we made our excuses. The 'ladrones' didn't take anything, so we reckon the story had been a ruse to come over.

In the morning we set off for Famailla. The road was flat, cyclable and it felt good to be on the bikes again.
We didn't feel like hanging about Tucuman campsite so it was a useful trip - back in the saddle for training AND away from Tucumán.

We found quite a nice hotel to stay. From here we plan to head into the mountains to El Mollar to have a look. We have a jiffy tummy though. We may turn around and come back to Famailla . It's a handy stop between a biggish town and some mountain roads for training rides.
We ate at a restaurant and it was Jamon Y Queso, which is all you ever get when you eat out. It was all that was available yesterday and that meal was so rich it took hours to digest.

Famailla town square

Tucumán

A 17 hour bus journey to Tucumán. The coach journey was comfortable enough, with generously padded seats, but it was rather refrigerated. Of course, I was next to the draughty window that would not open or close.
The campsite is in a massive park and there is no set price for the camping. We haven't been here long enough to know what to pay. We handed over AR$50, which is about £9.

Only after we paid did we see the baños were the worst we've seen. The sinks are full of writhing black beetles, Indiana Jones style. Praying mantis sit on surfaces all over, particularly on the seats and flush handles of the loos. These toilets were uncleaned, and one was full (I mean FULL) of wet poo.

The bikes got a bit of a bashing on the coach but nothing too serious.

Our eating has been rather terrible lately. We tend to skip lunch, regret it by about 5pm but dinner is not available for another 3 hours. We eat crap to keep us going and then are too full for a proper dinner and just go to bed. We went to find dinner to avoid repeating that pattern tonight.

Back at Retiro station

We caught the bus at 5.30 am and there was loads of room for the bikes. Last night we'd had a terrific thunderstorm through the night, frequent lightning and ground-shaking thunder. We're not getting much sleep in Argentina.
At Retiro station (back here again?!) Al sorted out tickets to Tucuman. I bought a diccionario to help with my poor Spanish and we waited at the station for 10 hours. We amused ourselves with ice creams -the chocolate on it is, we suspect, actually wax.

At 18.45 we got on the bus to Tucuman

Tranquility Meadows

We went to the bus terminal on the edge of town and here I realised just how limited my Spanish really is. I was only getting the gist of what was said. After a long "no entiendo" discussion, the lady in the office got the Google Translator up on her pc and we communicated through this. It worked better and we managed to understand each other. They were trying to tell us we'd never get our bikes onto a bus here heading North to Tucuman, as it'd be full of other people's luggage from Buenos Aires. It would be better to return to Buenos Aires where we'd have more choice of carrier and lots of space for the bikes.

Taxi ideas were nixed when it was obvious the vehicles on offer would be too small. We'll need to take the bikes apart and hope they don't get too damaged.

Al and I discussed this. They offered us a sip of their mate -  a metal mug full of tea leaves, hot water added and re-added and drunk through a metal straw.

Eventually we decided to take her advice and take the CHevallier coach to BUenos Aires. They had been incredibly generous with their time to try to help us.  We booked two seats on the 5.30 bush to Buenos Aires. We'll spend another night at Tranquility Meadows campsite. It has ferocious mosquitoes, sexually frustrated dogs barking and yelping all night after a bitch in season, mooing cows stuck in a flood, agricultural lorries rumbling past all night.

studying the guia de acampante for campsites, marking these on the map

Baradero

We left at 6am and took the 41 to Baradero. The road was as narrow as R8 but the traffic was much lighter.
We got to Baradero after crossing the Ruta 9. We could see it did have a large shoulder, but we couldn't be sure it'd last. We've checked at a WiFi spot and it stops being an 'autopista' on the way to Cordoba. Not great. Cordoba is a big place, so traffic would continue to be a problem. We'll see about catching a bus from here.
 The campsite is another basic one. We have lots of ferocious mosquitoes - millions of them - hanging out on the shower walls. There is no hot water, so I had a cold shower and fed a few dozen mosquitoes.
The numbers are high because the river nearby has flooded. Cows are stranded in the flood waters.

Yellow?

We took a day off to recover from a sore neck, sore knee and sore bum. Also, we want to spend more time planning a route using that WiFi spot.

We've noticed that Argentinians are pretty stoney faced people. You give them a smile and get nothing back. Shopkeepers aren't in any hurry to sell anything, either.

The rain  (new word: lluvia) has cleared and it's back to being bloody hot all the time and we have to be vigilant for sunburn. We're also getting used to taking on lots of water. The town has cunningly put in place three identical parks, ensuring  we get even more lost in their one-way system. The fiends!

We had some cold drinks at a cafe and when theyr arrived, the waiter asked: yellow?
We were mystified. What does he mean, yellow? yellow? why yellow? He repeated the question: yellow? yellow?. It was guest at the next table who explained: hielo = ICE.

San Antonio de Arecco

We stayed a second night at 35 pesos, to recover. We felt it important to get our confidence back after the first aborted attempt at getting out of Buenos Aires. However, Capilla Del Senor was not much better. No signposts, no road numbers. We had three goes at getting out. We stopped to ask a goucho. He was very nice but I did have difficulty understanding all that Spanish. He told us to avoid the Ruta 8 for its terrible traffic and sent us to another road back at the town.
We couldn;'t find that road so cycled back to the campsite to ask the man there. He directed us via the train station, which we found.

a different goucho we met in Amaicha

Cycling through th town itself we kept running into small packs of dogs. One pack was made up of about 7 or so, who were lepaing after us. I splashed one with water from my water bottle, which shocked him into backing off. The others were now not so keen to chase us.

(nmp)

We carried on to the road and found it was a dirt track that had become sticky mud, thanks to last night's heavy rain. Definitely no good on bicycle tyres, so we turned around. The dogs had completely changed their tune. I waved my water bottle around and their body language became "no trouble, no trouble" as they cowered under a parked truck.

The road was hot, it was the long way around to avoid that 'tierra' road and the goucho had been right: Ruta 8 was a nightmare. A long, straight road with no shoulder and cars/trucks skimming past at over 100km/h. Never have I been overtaken so closely at such speeds. Hair raising.

We got into San Antonio de Arecco, soaked through. We found a tourist information office and the lady there was great. She spoke clearly and slowly so I understood her Spanish and she gave us a lot of her time. She suggested we take the Ruta 9, saying it's not like a European Autopista. It has a big shoulder where buses stop to pick up passengers. We were still a bit sceptical as to how viable Ruta 9 will be. The small town had a WiFi cafe where we googled information on Ruta 9. Licuado Banana is my new favourite drink.

campsite at San Antonio de Arecco

Very talkative neighbour

We stayed the night at Capilla Del Senor. A very talkative Argentinian chap in the next tent (pitched too close to ours). The guy won't bloody shut up. When his girlfriend starts to speak, he just talks louder over her.
There were some spectacular storms in the night but our tent held up pretty well.
We had a sort through our equipment and Al can hardly move his bike, so we threw out a few heavy items. We threw out my fleece (too big and not necessary in the heat here), a bottom bracket (it weighs a ton) and some other bits and bobs we deemed not necessary.

Capilla Del Senor

We tried to cycle out of Buenos Aires but got lost too many times. The signs for the road just disappeared in San Martin. We stopped at a petrol station to ask directions. The chap there tried to arrange for us to get a lift in an ambulance that was filling up at the pump, but got a no. He kept telling us here was peligroso (dangerous). Did he mean by traffic or crime? We weren't sure.
Unnerved, we headed back to central Buenos Aires and asked for directions to Retiro station. From there we caught the train to Capilla Del Senor. This involved a long stop at a station called Victoria.
Argentinian trains are super cheap (75p for a long journey) but the trains reflect that. They're pretty basic and rickety, but we had loads of room for us and our bikes, as seats were somewhat lacking.
The train we caught after Victoria has seats but no indications as to which station you were now at. The second train was busier than the first, with pople getting at one station to loudly sell ice creams to passengers shouting "hay hela-helados, hay hela-helados!" and getting off a few stops down the line. Presumably he does the same on the train heading back.

We got to Capilla del Senor and guessed where to find the campsite.

It was a pretty basic place. The showers had no locking doors and didn't seem to be separated men's from ladies'. The loo block looked like someone had just fly-tipped, as junk was piled all over the place. Still, it had running water and flushing loos and safe spot for the tent. That's all we need.

Buenos Aires

The Hotel Raco is lovely and the staff are friendly. We had lunch at Cafe de Violetas, a beautifully art nouveau style cafe. We ordered foods we didn't recognise and enjoyed. Finally a meal. It was 4pm and I was beginning to get the shakes from low blood sugar.

Dinner we had meat: ojo de bife for me (a large lump of steak with a prune sauce) and Alan had pork. The salad we ordered never arrrived, but we were stuffed in any case.

We went to explore the nearby busy street and sourced cash machines and kerosene. We're also looking for a book called the 'guia de acampante' which lists all the campsites in Argentina. We've already discovered that the 'best map' available in Argentina is not much cop and doesn't show campsites. We looked all over the plae, in every bookshop and finally we gave up.  As it happened, we found one at a roadside magazine stall as we neared our hotel.

We took the underground train into town, called the Subte. The trains are still the old wooden ones, with wooden seats, floors, panels. The doors sliding doors that you just pull open when people want to get off, whether the train is still moving or not.

Flying BA to BA

Check-in was hassle free and the staff even waived us having to pay anything extra for the bikes. Marvellous.
One thing that strikes me is how everything has just fallen into place for this trip:
Al's redundancy within a month of my OU finishing.
Finding tenants one wek before we go and who only WANT the place for 12-14 months

bikes all boxed up, ready to fly

All the parts have been going well, no hitches (except for a dead phone) with all arrangements just all going to plan.

Our 'Louis Vuiton' luggage.