November 25, 2010
2days, the last in Corrientes.
I got here yesterday evening at six and camped. A municipal camping site but looks more like the town plaza as it's a green with tall amble trees and a street around the circumference. Now, it's 7am, I've the tent and everything packed on the bike ready to go, as I sit here at a picnic table writing, the streets around about are coming alive with cars and people. This town according to the historic reference sign on the way in was founded by General Manuel Belgrano on the 16th of November 1810 and all around town there's posters for this year's bicentenary celebrations. It's a garrison town and the military base flank both sides of the road on the way in. There are antiquated artillery pieces and jeeps guarding the numerous entry gates. There is also a war memorial with a list of local men that fell in the South Atlantic conflict in 1982.
Yesterday, I started out from the hostel in Mercedes late. I had been up late the night before and woke-up at six feeling knackered, so then slumbered another hour before my feet eventually touched the floor and I struggled to get dressed. I packed my stuff, putting it on the bike ready to go, then had a long wait for breakfast, I don't know why, as when the girl that looks after the hostel breakfast brought it, it was only toast and instant coffee.
The morning looked to be another rainy day as I cycled out the link-road which connects the city to the mainroad. I stopped, as it started to spit, to put on my rain-jacket and put the camera inside the bag for fear it would get wet again. It had gotten wet the previous Friday and was totally dead but thankfully it dried out after removing the batteries and being left out to air a bit. And now works as well as before. The rain only lasted a short while before a ray of sunshine broke through and alas it turned out a dry pleasantly cool day to ride.
The landscape was moorland pampa or wild brown grassland. As it was a provincial road there wasn't much traffic nor for that matter much of anything. So I wondered would I have to resort to cooking up pasta for lunch and drinking tap water. Nevertheless, it was a fine ride as the landscape under gray cloud resembled the Scotish Highlands where too it's long and far between shops. It was time to look at the map to see what if any dot or circle were on the road. I pulled over on the side and got my map out shielding it from a light breeze. I saw one place named Loza Mariano, 30km from Mercedes, so I should soon be there. When I started to ride again I realised that I'd been parked on a un-grassed patch and because of yesterday's rain was quite mucky. My shoes were heavy with mud and soon my new shiney silver pedals ruined.
I soon sighted small white forms amongst the brown grassland ahead. Getting that far I turn off the mainroad along the access road where the ash-felt finished and the streets were all hardpack brown grit. The few people abroad stopped and looked as I rode past, even the village policeman stood out in the garden of the police-house looking so I'd better be on my best behaviour. There didn't seem to be any shops at first, infact, this was a place with lots of streets with empty space on either side like a planned town which never came into existence. I cycled round the plaza past a church which was one of two buildings on the entire plaza. I was attracted to the other building which looked to be a corner-shop and as such would have what I needed. I lent the bike outside and enter to see it didn't have anything other than general household articles, saddles, boots and wide brimmed hats. The lady shopkeeper came in from the back and I ask where I could maybe buy a sandwich. "Pueda ser" she mused, "ah si un negocio", a foodshop she said. She gave me directions to a small supermercado a few blocks from the plaza.
I cycle again along streets with empty plots on either side past the Correo Argentino, the post-office which had a few sheep and lambs outside. Having found the place the lady directed me to, I bough what I needed and sat down on the grass outside to an early lunch. The only people in the street while I ate was a man leading a rather reluctant mare and a school boy calling at a house on the corner, clapping his hands to arouse the occupants within, as this is what they do here instead of knocking on the door.
I made one more stop in the afternoon at a bus-shelter and began to read a passage from my book but the lack of sleep the night before caught up with me and I soon closed my eyes and slept.
Well that was yesterday as I sit here and write it in the diary. I didn't have much trouble sleeping well lastnight despite passing cars and the fear of being disturbed by people.
I cycle from whence I came into town yesterday evening. It is the morning rush-hour and the pavements are crowded with both civilian and army personal. Some of the camouflage men are even riding bikes, perhaps there's a bicycle regiment.
Nothing of note happened until I reach a major road junction at eleven, before which was a truckstop. In the shade of trees is a comidor, which is a roadside restaurant, and next door a country generalstore whereat I buy a sandwich for lunch, a beer and crisps to consume then. There are benches outside but there sat two truckers and I wanted peace and have no one ask questions so I sit at a safe distance under a tree in the garden in front of the comidor which had not yet opened. A big dog sees me and comes barking but stops when another dog, an older wiser dog, runs over to it and apparently communicates "get back, you're not to bark at harmless strangers, only burglars"
As I sit enjoying a nice cold beer in the shade of the tree, a man entered the garden scruffily dressed and looking hungover, his face red from too much drink anyhow. He knocks on the front door of the comidor peering inthrough the window with bleary eyes. No-one comes. He then trollops along to a side door whereat after a brief wait a woman comes out and chases him away. "Oh no" he's coming towards me now. I thought it would only be an exchange of words and he'd leave but no, he sits on the wall by the tree I'm sat under. As he destroyed my peaceful ambiances with his slurred speech, I try ignoring him hoping that way he would leave, but no. I quickly finish off and get on the bike. As I ride away he shouts after me unintelligibly, though, judging by the tone of his voice insults.
At the aforementioned junction two minor roads meet big busy Ruta Nacional 14. It is the direct road South to Buenos Aires and the direct route for the way I'm going but too busy to contemplate cycling on. Nevertheless I have cycled on it at the beginning of September in the South of Entre Rios (province), there there building a dual carriageway and it had a shoulder too so I thought the chances of there being a shoulder on this section as well were good. As I mused by a sign, PARANA, SANTA FE, destinations on my new road a 100m in, which is the start of a big detour to avoid busy Route 14, I thought I'd cycle back and out the slip-road to see if there was a shoulder but, "can pigs fly" no, they like busy roads narrow without shoulders in this country.
It was another warm afternoon and there were no trees by the roadside nor bus-shelter to stop and eat my sandwich. Though, small pine plantations are common, a few rows of pinetrees planted on the inside of a fence along a pasture's boundary to provide shelter for cattle. It was here that I retreated for lunch. It had been grazed clean and the cattle taken away so I wouldn't be annoy by curious cows crowding around.
Another thing as the afternoon wore on was cold drinks. All of the villages past through were agri-service centres with maybe one or no foodshop and when I did find a shop I wanted to buy a 2l bottle of coke which couldn't be drunk in one go and very quickly warmed up. In late evening as I rode through a village I called at three what I thought to be foodshops to find they sold other things besides food. At the last of the three a little boy came running out just as I began to ride away "senior senior" he shouted after me. I turned and he held up a bottle of nice cold mineral water for me to drink. "How much is it" I ask. "Nothing" he replys.
Today's ride: 209 km (130 miles)
Total: 6,367 km (3,954 miles)
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