Esquel and Trevelin..

February 5, 2011

The title for this page I had considered should be: La valle Hermosa or beautiful Valley to reflect what the members of The Riffles (the first colonists) shouted out in joy on seeing this place for the first time in January 1885. My stop here, is to up-date this journal and decide which direction I shall take next. But first some pictures of Esquel which includes wall art.

Could the artist be refering to Animal Farm I wonder.

Esquel is enclosed between three hills. Called a city but really only a town. I've been here quite a few days now. I'm restless to go elsewhere. My daily routine for the moment starts with getting up at eight. By the way I'm camping in a campsite which is a leafy back-garden three blocks from the main avenue. I walk the three blocks to this avenue where there is a bakery. Each morning a great Doberman guard dog makes an attempt to break the gate down, to get at me, as I pass-by a house. It's bark is as bad as it's bite I'm afraid. Just as well the gate is strong. When I get there the bakery is a delight selling a wide selection of facturas, which are pasties with a variety of fillings. My favourite is apple, but I also like custard. They are commonly eaten to breakfast in Argentina along with the drink Mate. I drink tea with mine.

Today, I have finally caught up up-dating the journal so there is no reason for me being here longer. I will cycle to Trevelin where I'll stay to the weekend. So today is the last of the routine, the last the dog will bark as I pass. The morning here is somewhat overcast and cold. It's only 25km to Trevelin so I was not up early. I go to the cafe where there's wifi. I come back and have breakfast. I walk around town till noon. I buy lunch and come back and eat it at the campsite. I did though manage to find a spare tent-pole on my walk-about. It isn't a match but it'll work in a crisis.

By quarter to two as I set-off, the sun has come out and a brisk breeze is blowing. The first part of the road to Trevelin has a footpath-cycle-path which only lasts to the last tourist-cabins complex on the outskirts of Esquel. I cycle onwards on a single-track through the road's grass margin until that runs out too, so thereafter I cycle on the road, which is an Argentine road, narrow, no paved shoulder, mindless fatalistic drivers. It's a shame as the way is scenic with the Andes ahead and on the right but there isn't any looking around as I most watch the road.

It was three-ish when I rode around the village's hexigon plaza and up the hill to the hostel. Fidel, the proprietor's son remembered me from a previous stay. He looked at the bookings on the computer screen and shook his head, "no hay lugar, y manana tampoco" there is no room tonight nor tomorrow either, he was sorry to inform me. So now I'm on a campsite. It has the usual picnic tables but this afternoon as I read the wind has increased in strength and the windchill meant it was too cold to sit out. So I got in the tent and lay-down and quickly fell asleep.

Trevelin is a growing place with lots of new houses.

Trevelin is a growing village. Property developer's signs abound and new houses are going up everywhere. I like it though. It's got all the services even a newly open bikeshop, which makes two as I later spot another. There's lots of family run shops which I prefer, and bakeries. Though, my neighbours on the campsite are a big family with a child that screams all the time. And they started the car at midnight for some reason, leaving it ticking-over for quite a while. Typically Argentine, no consideration for keeping noise down late at night.

In the morning I rose at quarter to nine. There's a cute little dog that lives on the campsite and it's over to me wagging it's tail as soon as it sees me. I pet it then it runs off and pokes it's nose into the tent across from me. I spend the morning at the PetroBras service-station using the wifi. On the walk back, the wind had picked up. Indeed as I write, I most hold the paper to stop it blowing up and page after page in my note-book being flipped over by the wind. The wind is not sure, as one moment it's calm the next a great gust starts it off again and the windchill is making it uncomfortable to be sitting out. The dog has just now come to keep me company.

There's an Argentine cyclist here which I spoke breifly with yesterday evening as he arrived late. I will speak with him when he returns from Esquel where he's gone for the day. Ah, just now he has returned.

He has an interesting tent, a single-pole one-man wedge design, not unusual, just nice because of it's simplicity. He says it's 1.5kg. He has just room to sit-up, and should the weather turn foul cook inside with gas for the stove he has is gas. It is all he needs. It has stood him well he says.

The wind became too much so I repair to the tent. I read a chapter and a half, and so slept some. I ventured out in the evening, the purpose was to take photos but the light wasn't good as the sun was obscured by clouds most of the time. I walk towards the river and discovery that a new road has been build along it's bank and there's lots of new building going up on this side too.

Tonight as I write I'm wearing my warm dunn-jacket to keep warm and I've had to put on my warm woolly hat too, as the windchill is so cold.

Bust of Luis Jorge Fontana, leader of the riffles that discover this valley in the Andes.

Names of the riffles which included 6 Argentines, 18 Welshmen, 2 Germans and a North American.

24 hours later: I am staying in the hostel tonight. Tomorrow I'm off. I'm thinking of riding down Ruta40. Should be interesting.

Today's ride: 27 km (17 miles)
Total: 9,878 km (6,134 miles)

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