37
ARGENTINA
1
334 Kilometres - 31 Days
27
January 2011 – 27 February 2011
PHOTOS
E-BOOK
27
January - Roadside camp, Chile - Puente Del Inca, Argentina – 40 km
This
was the day the route headed over the Andes to Argentina. The road zig-zagged
up the pass, and though the gradient was acceptable, it remained a steep and
dreadfully slow 22-kilometre climb from where we’d spent the night. Roadworks
caused lengthy delays and created much-needed time to take breathers. Finally,
after wheezing my way to the top, I could look down at the winding road and
hardly believe I had made it up the pass. Once at the top and after yet another
ride by the authorities through a tunnel, 18 kilometres remained to the customs
office.
The
border crossing was uneventful and immigration staff simultaneously stamped
people out of Chile and into Argentina. From the immigration office, the path
descended past the small settlement of Las Cuevas with no more than a few
timber restaurants and a strong smell of lentil soup. Upon crossing the border,
Ernest and I reached the end of Patagonia and Chile. After my disastrous start
in the Americas, Chile was a welcome change and a relaxing and rewarding ride.
To this day, I claim Patagonia will never see me again.
Our
first stop in Argentina was at the small touristy village of Puente Del Inca,
which came with a basic campground and a view of Aconcagua, the highest peak in
the Americas (6 960m).
Puente
Del Inca, surrounded by high mountains, enjoyed spectacular vistas that turned
all colours of the rainbow by sunset. The village was further home to a natural
bridge over the Vacas River, said to have been formed by glaciers and hot
springs. The water from the hot springs was rich in sulphur and had, through
the years, turned the bridge a lovely orange colour. An old spa’s remains were
visible under the bridge and slowly became the same colour.
The
amusing part was that children (ages 7-10) came to chat with us. On discovering
I didn’t speak Spanish, they addressed me incredibly slowly and deliberately,
how one would talk to a small child. On the positive side, I picked up a few
words from them. Ernest cooked supper, and it became an early evening.
28
January - Puente Del Inca - Uspallata – 70 km
Ernest
had work to do on his bike and it was midday by the time we got underway. The
road led past Cementerio Andinista, a small cemetery dedicated to climbers who
died on the climb of Aconcagua. Then past Los Penitentes, a well-known ski
resort, all boarded up as it was summer. The pinnacles around Puente Del Inca
were supposed to resemble a line of monks. I looked but couldn’t see anything
resembling a line of monks.
Route
7 followed the Rio Mendoza, a mostly downhill run to Uspallata. Unfortunately,
a headwind made pedalling difficult, even on the descents. We passed abandoned
railway stations along the old Trans-Andes Railway line, constructed in the
late 1800s. It ran from Mendoza, in Argentina, to Los Andes, in Chile. One
couldn’t help being in awe of the task of building a railway over the Andes in
the 1800s.
The
landscape was highly unusual, barren but simultaneously colourful, and said to
be the film location of “Seven Years in Tibet”. This made it a stunning ride,
but I failed dismally to capture its beauty.
A
truck and trailer having a blowout while overtaking us on the descent scared
the living daylights out of me. Pieces of tyre flew all over the place, nearly
hitting Ernest, and the truck swerved wildly from side to side. However, the
skilful driver managed to keep his vehicle under control and averted a near
disaster.
Our
destination was oasis-like Uspallata with its poplar trees situated in a barren
mountain landscape. Uspallata was a small community with a campsite and all the
necessary facilities.
29
January - Uspallata - Potrerillos – 58 km
The
party next to the campground in Uspallata carried on through the night, and
little sleep was had. With Ernest as slow as ever, the time was 12h30 before
riding out of Uspallata. Again, the route followed Rio Mendoza, and the scenery
was as spectacular as the previous day. While mostly downhill, there were
plenty of hills with picturesque narrow tunnels. The Rio Mendoza was perfect
for rafting, with water gushing down from the snowy peaks. Several tour
operators carted people to the drop-off for a fun day on the river.
Unfortunately, a headwind picked up, and I was peeved off by Ernest’s slow start.
Our
late start and the headwind made it a short day of cycling. Our next stop was
Potrerillos, which had beautiful camping spots amongst shady poplars adjacent
to a dam. Ernest was dead set on having a barbeque in Argentina, and he bought
a large chunk of beef as well as wood and spent the rest of the evening tending
the fire and cooking his meat.
Potrerillos
Dam was located on the Mendoza River and is referred to as a “new” dam built
between 1999 and 2003. The dam aimed to provide flood control,
hydroelectricity, and irrigation. The interesting part was the dam was
shrinking due to the high silt content of the Mendoza River.
In
later years, the dam would be in the news again due to an accident filming an
MTV reality show, The Challenge, when a helicopter crashed, killing both the
pilot and technician.
30-31
January - Potrerillos - Mendoza – 72 km
From
Potrerillos a short bike ride led to touristy Mendoza, but only after crossing
a few hills. Then, it became smooth riding into the beautiful Mendoza Valley.
On reaching Route 40, the motorway widened which didn’t merely sport a shoulder
but also breath-taking views of vineyards, with the Andes making a perfect
backdrop in the distance. The Mendoza Valley is Argentina’s most important wine
region, featuring countless wine farms and tasting rooms to sample the mighty
Malbec and various other varieties.
Even
though Mendoza was reasonably large, a stress-free cycle took us into the city.
Mendoza, popular amongst people travelling the country, was also a frequent
stopover for climbers en route to Aconcagua and, hence, immensely touristy. The
result was costly lodging. Still, we settled for digs in a hostel in the
touristy part of town. The weather was perfect with blue skies and temperatures
in the upper 20s.
The
hefty room rate included bed bugs, which, together with the disco next door,
kept me up for the best part of the night. Luckily, the hostel had a leafy
garden and a swimming pool to bask in the sun during the day.
1
February 2011 – Mendoza
Mendoza
was a laid-back city that made a perfect day of rest, an easy thing to do in
Mendoza, maybe due to the many wineries (more than 1,500). The town was further
used as a base to tour the vineyards. As a result, generally, people were in a
relaxed mood. At the time, Mendoza was famous for its Malbec wines which grew
at high altitude at the foothills of the Andes. This alone was enough to make
me stay an extra day. Ernest booked the barbeque night, an “eat-all-you-can”
affair. I watched the spectacle through the bottom of a wine glass as I hadn’t
changed my vegetarian status quite yet.
2
February - Mendoza – Las Catitas – 106 km
After
two days, Ernest and I left our bedbug-ridden accommodation and headed east on
Route 7 towards Buenos Aires, more than 1,000 kilometres across the Pampas. The
road was pancake flat and the temperature (I guessed) in the low 30s, making it
a perfect day for biking.
Pitching
the tents was reasonably early at a petrol station with a grassy patch and
showers. A Japanese cyclist, Nobu, who had been travelling for the past year
and a half, arrived from the opposite direction and joined us behind the petrol
station.
3
February - Las Catitas – Alto Pencoso – 99 km
We
awoke to a reasonably strong wind, maybe sounding worse due to the Poplar trees
camped under. The Pampas of South America is a vast, flat, fertile, grassland
plain covering roughly 777,000 square kilometres, stretching from the Atlantic
Ocean to the Andes Mountains. It’s, thus, an area entirely exposed to the
elements. Consequently, the countryside offered few exciting sights, simply low
shrubs and sandy soil and, of course, the pampas grass; a tall grass which grew
in dense clumps. At home, my mom used them in large flower arrangements. The
wind was from the front all day, but mercifully nothing close to the wind in
Patagonia.
A
new country brings countless new and exciting things to discover. In Argentina,
road fatalities weren’t only indicated by a humble cross but by little shrines
and sometimes quite elaborate ones. The collection of empty plastic bottles at
some memorials baffled me. I, subsequently, discovered the shrines surrounded
by red flags had a fascinating history and understood paid homage to Antonio
Gil.
Still,
others were to honour Difunta Correa. According to legend, in the 1830s or 40s
(no one is quite sure), a young woman with her baby set off to find her husband
recruited into Argentina’s Civil War. Sadly, she died of thirst along the way.
However, when found days later, her baby was miraculously alive, and still
suckling from her breast. As a result, roadside shrines were constructed across
the region. To this day, travellers leave bottles of water as an offering and
to quench their eternal thirst.
In
the small settlement of Alto Pencoso pitching the tents was possible at the municipal
grounds. People went out of their way to accommodate us, even unlocking the
community hall’s toilets. I thought people were generally surprised by two
foreigners on bicycles arriving in their tiny village.
4-5
February - Alto Pencoso – San Luis – 22 km
Twenty
kilometres into the ride Ernest’s hub eventually packed up entirely. He tried
doing makeshift repairs, but the hub was too severely damaged. Thank goodness,
a kind Argentinian offered us a ride into San Luis where Ernest could buy a new
hub. Spoking and straightening the wheel was a time-consuming activity. The
following morning, Ernest was still not happy with his work. After moving to a
cheaper hostel, an additional day was spent in San Luis.
San
Luis wasn’t a bad little town; and came with a lively town centre and a leafy
central square, known as Plaza Pringles. Around the square were a few historic
buildings, including a 19th-century cathedral featuring a
neoclassical facade and twin bell towers.
Not
surprisingly, only a few people spoke English. Regrettably, my Spanish was nearly
non-existing, making locating food equally problematic. Furthermore, Argentina
was a beef country where vegetarianism was practically unheard of. Argentineans
were, at the time, the biggest consumers of beef per capita in the world and,
God forbid, one should be vegetarian. That said, plenty of good wine and pasta were
available, and I wasn’t complaining as I hardly ever ate anything but bread and
pasta.
6
February - San Luis – Picnic area (close to Villa Mercedes) – 85 km
It
became an excellent day’s riding with the wind slight and the weather overcast.
Towards the end of the day, we weakened at the sight of a picnic area along a
river. People were swimming and barbecuing on the lawn under trees. The staff
had no problem with us pitching our tents. Smoke from asadas (barbecues) hung
thick in the air, and curious looks were cast as we entered. The fun part was
many came requesting to be photographed with us.
Even
before unpacking, our neighbours presented us with a plate of barbequed meat.
Not wanting to be outdone, other neighbours came with even bigger plates. True
to Argentinean asadas, they didn’t bother much with salads or other food, only
a massive plate of meat. Even I tried a piece of meat, as I felt too
embarrassed to turn them down after they so generously shared their food.
Shortly
afterwards, people started packing up, and soon we were the sole ones left. It
could’ve been that the spot was a day-picnic area or they saw the weather come
in.
7
February - Picnic area – Old petrol station (Washington) – 96 km
By
evening, a massive storm rolled in. Upon waking at around 8h00 the following
morning, with rain dripping on the tent, I crawled back into the sleeping bag.
Eventually, the rain abated, and goats and sheep came wandering past. It
must’ve been 12h00 before our tents had dried and we could resume our ride, and
what a lonely stretch of road it turned out.
Little
life was seen along the way, and there were fewer places to fill up with water.
By day’s end, I was entirely out of fluids, and happy when a disused petrol station
with a still-functioning tyre repair workshop came into view. As they had water
it made an excellent place to pitch the tents. However, I realised one would
have to be more careful conserving water on such a desolate stretch of road.
8-9
February - Disused petrol station – Laboulaye – 128 km
The
next day, and after thanking the staff, we pointed our bikes in Buenos Aires’
direction. Not a great deal happened apart from cycling past massive cattle
ranches, known as Estancias in Argentina. This was indeed a world-famous cattle
country. With enough rain and fertile soil, grazing was nutritious, and I
understood the beef was excellent. It’s said the good taste is due to the
cattle’s organic and free-range roaming. Not only was it a cattle country, but
vast areas were planted under corn and soybeans.
Route
7 became narrow with heavy truck traffic, and care had to be taken to avoid
disasters. A steady headwind slowed us to a crawl, and it became late enough to
get concerned the last stretch to Laboulaye would be cycled in darkness. Seven
kilometres from Laboulaye, Ernest came to an unexpected and sudden halt. The
front hub on his bike had seized up and with a fast-setting sun, he quickly did
an emergency repair job, allowing us to reach Laboulaye, albeit in the dark.
Laboulaye
was much bigger than anticipated and it was easy to locate a reasonably priced
hotel until Ernest repaired his bike. Fortunately, Argentineans were a sporting
nation, and one could find decent bike shops in practically all sizable towns.
Laboulaye was big enough to sport a bicycle shop where Ernest bought the necessities
to fix his bike.
10
February - Laboulaye – Rufino – 71 km
The
route between Laboulaye and Rufino came with a headwind and heavy traffic. The
narrow road left virtually no space to ride and the grassy verge was too rocky
and uneven even to attempt riding off-road. On reaching Rufino, I pulled in to purchase
a mirror that would at least allow me to see what was coming up behind me, but
Rufino was like a ghost town due to siesta. After enquiring, we were
police-escorted to the central park.
Argentinians
took their siesta seriously and only emerged around 17h00. However, no sooner
had they woken from their nap than the entire village was at the park which
doubled as a sports ground. People were out playing football and hockey. Others
were jogging and even the marching band was out practising. What a delight to
observe a small Argentinean country town in full swing!
11
February - Rufino – Vedia – 119 km
The
following day was marred by wind and 18-wheelers roaring past, causing diving
off the road now and then. The mirror bought the previous day at least helped spot
them in advance.
This
was the Pampas and home to Gauchos and vast cattle ranches. To me, the Gauchos
of Argentina conjured up romantic images of horsemen freely roaming the vast
plains of Argentina. I wasn’t far off as I witnessed riders herding cattle,
looking amazingly comfortable on horseback. Watching these Gauchos on a horse,
sipping mate from a gourd through a silver straw, and with at least four dogs
at their heels, was indeed an iconic sight.
With
Argentineans being the world’s biggest meat-eaters, no decent petrol station
came without a grassy area and a few barbeque pits, making it a convenient
place to pitch the tents. Route 7 was a major transport route and, generally,
petrol stations doubled as truck stops. These places mostly came with clean
toilets as well as showers. The majority had hot water on tap as it was
inconceivable to go without a flask of mate. All this made camping trouble-free
along the Pampas.
12
February - Vedia – Junin – 58 km
The
wind picked up during the night. Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as expected.
Instead, traffic was a much bigger problem. My legs felt tired and we ended the
day’s ride in Junin. I seemed hungry all the time, and following a visit to the
supermarket, I had my fill of bread and cheese as there appeared little else
around except meat, meat and more meat.
13
February - Junin – Carmen de Areco – 126 km
The
next day, a tailwind made it effortless cycling. Not wanting to waste a
tailwind, we proceeded to Carmen de Areco. With it being Sunday, traffic was
much reduced, and biking was a pleasure.
Carmen
de Areco had three petrol stations. The best was the YPF with a substantial
picnic area at the rear, a children’s play park and plenty of barbeque areas.
Perfect. Ernest cooked the usual pasta, and after a beer and a hefty serving of
pasta, I was off to bed.
14
February - Carmen de Areco – San Antonio de Areco – 66 km
It
appeared a further day of grinding into a headwind, and I was pleased we’d
pushed on the day before. After eating the leftover bread with cheese and
drinking our coffee (as I hadn’t yet acquired a taste for mate), we rode the
short distance to San Antonio.
Traffic
was horrendous, as usual, but slightly less so once off Route 7. A beautiful
ride through the countryside brought us to San Antonio. Dating from the 18th
century, the town was loaded with history and romantically considered home to
the Gauchos. Mercifully, San Antonio had a campground where one could pitch a
tent and relax in the shade.
15
February - San Antonio – Buenos Aires – 118 km
Route
8 ran east in the direction of Buenos Aires and, although it turned into a
highway, it remained easier than biking on the narrower roads. However, closer
to Buenos Aires, traffic became hectic and barely 10 kilometres from the city
centre traffic police eventually kicked us off the freeway.
Battling
rush-hour traffic on one of the regular arterial roads, was no fun, but it spat
us out right in the city centre shortly before dark. The way was littered with
traffic lights, and reaching Ave 9 de Julio (the main road) took forever. It
must’ve been 21h00 before a hotel was found, and even if expensive, the place
was comfortable and right in the city centre.
What
a lively city Buenos Aires was. Street cafes abounded, and people were out and
about until the wee hours of the morning.
16
February - Buenos Aires
The
following day was spent sauntering around town, down Avenue Florida - a
pedestrian mall jam-packed with people and street vendors. Then on to Plaza de
Mayo with its pink palace (or presidential office), past lovely old
colonial-style buildings and around the famous obelisk right in the middle of
Ave 9 de Julio. With its eight lanes in either direction, I was sure this was
the widest main road in the world.
Eventually,
we sat down at a sidewalk restaurant. While looking at the menu, an incredibly
skilled thief nicked my bag (which I’d placed on the ground between my feet).
So good was the thief, neither Ernest nor I noticed anything. This was quite a
disaster as the bag contained my wallet with cash and bank cards, as well as my
camera, reading glasses and, even more disastrous, memory cards with all my
photos of South America since arriving in Ushuaia. The best part of the day was
thus spent cancelling cards and ordering new ones.
17-21
February - Buenos Aires
The
bank’s early morning phone call revealed new bank cards could be delivered, but
it would take seven working days. The day was spent investigating the city
streets, including a stroll to Puerto Madero (a waterfront area with many
modern skyscrapers) and then south to the San Telmo district with its narrow
cobblestoned streets, old buildings and antique markets. Next, we proceeded to
the La Boca district with its colourful houses and home of the Boca Juniors
football team. Eventually, we took the bus to the city centre, where I scanned
the area for a new camera.
22-25
February - Buenos Aires
As
shopping malls go, I thought Galerias Pacifico, with its vaulted ceilings and
painted dome, a most stunning shopping mall. Constructed in 1889 and restored
in 1992, the mall was upmarket. Equally beautiful was Teatro Colon, a Buenos
Aires icon, which was stunning and considered one of the best opera houses for
acoustic. Built between 1880 and 1908, I understood it romantically opened with
Aida. So, I trundled through the city, feasting my eyes upon these magnificent
buildings.
I
also came upon Palacio Barolo, a magnificent building with a crazy story. Luis
Barolo, a European immigrant, apparently arrived in Argentina in 1890. At the
time, he believed wars in Europe would destroy Europe. However, Luis was
determined to save a part of it and built Palacio Barolo. I understood from a
brochure the building was inspired by the Italian poet, Dante’s Divine Comedy.
Even
more bizarre was the fabulous Palacio de Aguas Corrientes (literally ‘The
Palace of Running Water’) built in the late 1800s. The building was covered in
(I was told) 300,000 glazed, multi-coloured terracotta tiles. It was
constructed as a water pumping station. Imagine that!
Counting
my last pennies, there remained enough to take the train to Tigre, a popular
day excursion from Buenos Aires. Situated no more than 35 kilometres north of
the capital on the Parana Delta, the third-largest river delta in the world.
The day was spent wandering around this peaceful settlement. Tigre offered a
glimpse into how people lived along the canals, with boats as their sole
transportation. I thought it amazing how much one could do with little money,
and I couldn’t think of a better place to wait until the card arrived.
Still,
there were loads to see and do in Buenos Aires. The Recoleta Cemetorio came
with loads of statues and crypts, for the rich and famous of their time. The
most-visited grave was undoubtedly that of Evita, and one could hardly catch a
glimpse of it due to the hordes of tourists.
Food-wise
I was in seventh heaven; right next door to our hotel was a superb vegetarian
restaurant. Chinese-owned, it served the most delicious food I’ve eaten since
China. In case that wasn’t enough, there was Ugi’s on the corner, selling the
cheapest pizzas in town. They simply made one type of pizza - Mozzarella pizza
- and a takeaway box was a further 50 cents.
In
the meantime, I scanned the shops in search of a camera. I ordered new reading
glasses, but could only collect those items once I got my sweaty paws on my
money.
The
bank card was eventually delivered but still needed activation. I contacted the
bank once more, who would return the call the following day. To our horror, we
discovered the guest in the room next door had passed away and police were in
and out the entire day. I didn’t ask any questions but felt they could at least
have closed the door or covered the body.
26
February - Buenos Aires
The
bank returned the phone call in the early morning to inform the card had been
unlocked. I scarcely had time to eat breakfast as I was super keen to pick up
my new reading glasses. We headed straight to the ferry ticket office to
purchase the following day’s ticket to Uruguay. Sadly, at the camera shop, none
of the latest models was available and, in the end, I bought a Lumix.
27
February - Buenos Aires, Argentina – Colonia, Uruguay - By ferry
I
was up amazingly early as this was the day we could finally leave Argentina. A
short ride led through Buenos Aires to the harbour where one checked out of
Argentina and boarded a ferry to Uruguay.
The
slow boat took three hours, and came with smooth sailing across the vast Rio de
la Plata estuary, arriving in Uruguay in the heat of the day. Colonia, our
first stop in Uruguay, dated to 1680 and was a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
A
few hours were spent exploring the old town. A cobblestone road led through the
ancient city gate, onto the city’s historical part and down to the harbour.
Eventually, we headed to the campsite where the fees were shocking and the
facilities dismal. There and then, a decision was made to wild-camp from then
on.
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