September 24, 2010
Onwards from Punta del Este.: The way to Brazil.
Tue 21th Sep. Punta del Este to camping by bridge, route 9. 63km.
Time seens to fly when your on the computer. I's up and sitting with my notebook in front of me on the breakfast table at seven, then it was eight and after nine the next time I looked at my watch.
It's now the early hours of Wesnesday the 22nd and I'm sitting up in my tent writing my diary. I'm camped 50 metres from the road secluded behind palm trees. Although it's one of the busiest roads in Uruguay traffic has ceased for the night. There's nothing, it so peaceful. Ten minutes ago I heard what I first thought to be a bird but the sound was to big for a bird, more probably a deer. A car has just past so I've put off my head torch. This is so different than Argentina where the traffic noise is a constant din round the clock.
At the hostel in Punta del Este there were seven young Australians a couple of which went for a swim in the sea after breakfast returning dripping wet even though it was a cold morning the sun just glimping through a sea haze. I shared a room with a man who kept a carving knife in his locker but not to worry as he's a chief from Montevideo working in Punta del Este.
It has been an uneventful day after leaving the hostel at eleven. I've covered 63km so I suppose it's not bad for a half day. Monday afternoon I cycled into Punta del Este round a big bay. The city is builded on a sand split jugging out to sea. Today I continued along the coast out of the city. The whole waterfront is lined with high rise blocks. The streets are well kept, full of expensive cars and effluent people. It could well be a nice city centre in Northern Europe as the locals are all of European descend. After only having cycled eight hundred metres I stopped to take a photo of the sea front. A little farther I saw the fingers of a giant hand sticking up through a sand hill on the beach and lots of people posing by the giant fingers so when later looking at the photos they could say 'this is me and...' as I've seen these fingers on lots of postcards of Uruguay.
The city is part of the larger urban conurbation of Maldonado and by one o clock I'd reached the Eastern extreme of the city a satellite seaside resort where I stopped to buy whatever food I needed for the day including lunch which I ate on the beach a little farther East. I followed the coast road for a bit but according to the map it's discontinued in places because of sea inlets so eventually I took a road inland back to route nine now reduced to a single carriage-way but luckily the wide shoulder remains. There isn't much big trucks on this road but there are allot of local tipper trucks which drive flat out producing allot of noise and fumes as they tend to be old. Apart from that the traffic is comparatively light.
There I can hear that sound again. It starts as a throaty vibration and quickly develops into a load screal. It's very very close whatever it is. Now I can here the same call echoed in the distance.
Wed 22nd Sep. Camping by bridge on route 9 to near Castillo. 96km.
I'd a change for breakfast today namely I've discovered they sell nice creamy fruit flavoured yogurt in easy to carry 500ml cartons in Uruguay. I'd a carton of peach flavoured yogurt as well as the usual bread. As I packed away my things on the bike at 7.30, a man dressed in orange reflective jacket was cutting grass with a strimmer nearby. The sweet smell of new cut grass is in the air all along the road which is straight hence up and down the terrain being undulating. I saw an old cyclist with grey hair and a nice racing bike past on the opposite side. Twenty minutes later on his return from his morning run he slowed along side me and began to talk but I couldn't make out a word of what he was saying as he spoke too fast and his accent was that Brazilian singing. The only thing I got was he commented on it being windy. There was a stiff breeze coming in off the sea but it wasn't a problem. He rode on and later he waved in the town of Rocha where I stopped at a service station supermercado all in one to buy whatever I needed for the day and fill up on water. In the shop there wasn't any alfarjores, well, there was but not the homemade ones which I love so I said no thanks when the girl behind the counter said 'al go mas' (anything else).
I'm now sitting in a bus shelter having finished lunch far from any house with only tranquil countryside around. But just a few minutes ago a police pick-up truck pulled over spoiling the tranquility of my bus shelter. The officer in the passenger side poked his head out asking the usual where and what. I think they'd seen my face before as they quickly drove off again.
The afternoon remained sunny until four when increasing sea haze blocked out the sun. I's wondering is it normally this overcast every afternoon near this coast. Off on the left inland there were hills some with wind turbines on top. I's wondering would it be more scenic inland as this route 9 was becoming a shade monotonous.
By five the time I usual begin to look out for a place to camp there were houses with barking dogs every few hundred metres. I saw a secluded place but when I drew level with it there was the smell of a died animal. On the way up a hill I saw the sign for entering the town of Castillo which I thought to be only a small place but when I creased the hilltop I saw a great urban scrawl. After the tidy European order of Punta del Este I's back in South America with poorly builded houses and streets, no town planning nothing. I's thinking of stopping at a shop here but for such a big place I couldn't see a shop from the road, there wasn't even a service station by the road.
I had reached that empty stomach feel stage and was thinking of buying Dulce de Leche to make a polenta pudding for after dinner of polenta with tomato sauce and cheese. It's versatile is polenta, I used to only think of it as a savory dish but I saw another crazy guy make it with banana. I completed the taste with the sweet delicious brown stuff.
On the other side of town there was forest on one side of the road and leafy scrubs with trees on the other. I didn't look at the forest as in amongst the leafy scrubs there were grassy areas cropped short by judging by the dung horses so it was ideal for camping.
Thur 23rd Sep. Near Castillo to Chuy 80km.
Breakfast this morning was instant porridge mixed into strawberry flavoured yogurt as this is quick to prepare and there's no washing to be done if I use the carton to eat out off. I wheeled my bike out to the road at eight and discovered the front wheel flat. I couldn't fine the cause when I checked the tyre or for that mather a hole in the inner tube, but I changed the tube any way better to be done with it.
The road continued straight, pleasant nothing too scenic sometimes bordering on monotonous. I saw a sign for route 15 inland outside the town of Rocha yesterday it read 'Ruta panoramica' or scenic route. I wish now I'd taken it. The road now is only a few kilometres from the coast but it cannot be seen as there's hills and forest. I can see a large body of water on the inland side of the road. It's called Laguna Blanca or Negra or whatever according to the map which is beginning to fall apart it's been unfolded so many times, exposed to wind and soaked by rain.
I met another cycle tourer today, Carlos from Brazil on his way south on a funny bike looking somewhat like a chopper. He spoke very little Spanish but I understood most of what he said as there are similarities as well as speaking slowly and clearly. With his beautiful Brazilian accent he was singing. In any case it's a foretaste of every day communications for me from now on.
I've now finished a meager lunch of an apple and some bread I'd left from yesterday. I'm sittimg in the sun against the drystone wall of an old cemetery out side an old fort which you have to pay to enter but I've seen enough from the outside.
I cycled back to the road and saw the sign Chuy 27km which is the frontier with Brazil. A little farther I saw a sign, Aduana (customs) 500 metres. What can this mean? But I need not have worried as they were just checking vehicles coming in the opposite direction. A kilometre beyond the premature border check there was a village where I found a shop. I bough the makings of a cheese sandwich and a big croissant type thing and found a place in the shade of a tree to eat a more substantial lunch.
On the remaining stretch to Chuy there were wild camping possibilities the whole way amongst leafy scrubs and trees on the wide roadside but I'd overlooked filling up on water in the village since I'd bough a big bottle of coke. I cycled on into town with the intention of returning back out to camp. I found a supermercado where I bough polenta and sweets as I reckoned I needed the sugar. I saw a hotel and restaurant with wi fi but the computer can wait till morning as I cycle back the way I came to a great wild camping place the last in Uruguay.
Today's ride: 240 km (149 miles)
Total: 2,590 km (1,608 miles)
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