December 26, 2010
Ranchos onwards.
Ranchos was founded in 1781 and has a big white church in the main plaza dating from 1863. All this and much more I could read in the tourist information brochure which Miguel gave me when I went to pay for camping last-night.
"No tenes que pagar",no you don't have to pay, Miguel the camping-site owner said. This was a relieve as otherwise my expenditure for the day would've been 73 pesos (£12), now it was 53 (£8.75) and that was only in cold drinks, as I'd already bough my food the day before. I think it was because I's a foreigner that he let me off without paying. It was kind of him anyway.
All the others on the camping-site which had gathered for a Christmas night Asado (barbecue), didn't or seemingly didn't make mush noise as I think I slept as soon as I lay down, such was the body's need for sleep.
This was a monotonous day. The road straight without a single bend all day as the land put up nothing in the way. It was snooker table flat. It was all mature dry brown grass with thistles opening there purple heads by the roadside. And where there were cattle they stopped and stared as I rode by.
The heat was too mush. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, reflecting hot off the tarmacadam and the wind which blew lightly, blew hot air.
I past through the one town in the morning, General Belgrano, and leaving it the sign by the road ahead was, AYACUCHO 160km, with nothing mush in between. So I was hoping I'd have enough to drink for the long road ahead.
After 70km of riding dripping of sweat and feeling pain from sitting so long on the bike and dehydration, there was a petrol station, though it looked as if it had seen better days. The sign which was originally bright red and yellow was now almost grey, faded with time. The shop and the toilets were shut but a hundred metres away from the ghostly forecourt was a cheerful looking confiteria (cafe).
I enter and I'm aware of the occupants stop and stare at me as I walk stiffly over to where the glass display fridges are. My glasses are steamed up and the sweat didn't make it any easier seeing the prices. Finally, I settle for a big bottle of Sprite and a can of Quilmes beer which was well appreciated.
I was now enjoying that cold beer, sat by a table at the window which had the curtains drawn to keep out the sun. The starers had gotten up and left as their lift had come. There remained, just the owner, his wife and another man which judging by facial features was the owners brother. They sat drinking mate, talking between themselves by a fireless stove which had a smoke pipe up to the ceiling, where the best fan in the house spun, the other ceiling fans were slow and weak and didn't have mush effect.
After leaving the petrol station I pressed on as far as possible in the evening hoping to lessen the amount of monotonous road for the next day. By chance I came upon a place to camp in a field gateway with a tree for shade.
Today's ride: 140 km (87 miles)
Total: 7,399 km (4,595 miles)
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