October 24, 2010
Route BS377
My body clock has at last gotten used to Summer day light saving. It's easy. It's still slightly dark when my watch alarm goes at 6.20. I stir at 6.45 and get on the road at eight.
I was glad I'd found the place I had camped as there followed 5km steep uphill which were better tackled in the morning when I's rested. The road continued steeply down and steeply up again twice more before I could relax and admire the countryside. It was pretty countryside of small farms and leafy hedgerows, the pasture sprinkle with the yellow blooming weed. The hilltops were topped with corps of trees. It being a Sunday morning there were few cars and I met the occasional Sunday morning racing-cyclist.
At about ten I stopped in a small place with a church, a few houses and a shop. There was nobody in attendants when I entered the shop so I shout out, good morning in Spanish. Then without moving peered through the open door into a kitchen at the back. There was a cooking range and when I craned my head a bit further I saw a table with a young man sitting at it. I shout again. This time he heard me, jumped up quickly and came out behind the counter. I bough a bottle of coke and while I screwed the top off He said 'take a seat, take a seat' pointing to a chair on the veranda. By now his mother had come out wondering what type of stranger I was. She too had the same handsome face as her son. He spoke slowly and plainly as he asked the usual where, what and where to, but I still found difficulty following. I's glad when after a slug or two more and a few answers in Spanish I could politely say goodbye and ride on.
25km later, around noon, I reached the next town marked on my map, Santiago, which was big enough to be called a city. I'd a nine kilometre ride into the centre on very rough bumpy road followed by cobble stoned streets nearing the centre in the increasing heat of the day. I wouldn't have cycled so far off the main road if I had of found a place to eat closer, but there were none. The restaurant I did find on a street down from the hilltop central plaza had the usual Brazilian buffet lunch. On entering I felt self conscious as everybody in the restaurant were so clean and nicely dressed and there was me all sweaty not having washed since Friday. But the usual Brazilian hospitality shone through. A man from a large group occupying a number of tables pushed together approached asking 'speak German'. 'No'. 'English'. 'Yes' I replied. He happen to be the manager and it was his family sat round the big table. He showed the usual interest in my tour and took a close look at my map spread out on the table before me, finding Santiago on it. He preceded to point at a city to the South,'Santa Maria, university city, very nice' I said Is going North and ran my finger along the probable route I will take. As I when to pay members of his family asked where I's from 'ah Ireland' they'd say. As I got my wallet ready, the manager now behind the cash-desk drew his two hands apart in a signal it's on the house.
I aroused some interest from two local hobble cyclists on big chunky old mountainbikes on the way out of town. They weren't easy understood, it was more close to not being able to make out a word they were saying but the usual particulars I replied to. When they heard me say Iguazu, they let out a big yah hoo.
They turned back and I's on my own now with the city behind me. I's looking for a place with trees for shade to stop and read my book and drink coke from the restaurant before it got too warm. It's wonderful how much cooler it is in the shade and I started the days second 2litre bottle of coke. Afterwards out from under the trees it feels like opening an oven and I'm glad to get moving.
The next twenty kilometres the road surface deteriorated to big potholes, large sections lose and broken. The occasional car drove slowly weaving from side to side finding the best road. It got worse with short sections unpaved and I's dreading that soon the whole road whole come to a, 200m fin pavemento, the dreaded sign in Argentina when the ash-felt finishes and the dusty natural road begins. But after twenty Ks it was back to smooth again.
Since leaving Santiago, the whole afternoon's itinerary crossed rolling yellow cereal land with the odd tree, hedgerow, grove and even a drystone wall. The peculiarity of the climate here means that there is seemingly no one planting or harvest season as there were fields of wheat and oats at widely varied stages of progress giving the landscape a patchwork quilt effect of light greens and different shades of yellow.
This type of farmland unlike pasture is a cinch to find a place to wild camp. The gateways are open and it's usual that there's a wide area unsown or trampled by machinery just inside and a hedgerow to shield the tent from view making it a fine choice.
This evening when I decided to call it a day I checked out one such gateway only to discover it was looked down upon from a house partly hidden in a corp of trees on a nearby hilltop. I cycle on. Not too far, up through a steep gateway, but, soon discover the same house had a view of this place too. Bummer!!! This time I made sure I was well away from any houses before searching out any other gateway.
Later when Is cooking supper of polenta Is disturb by barking dogs. 'Oh no, I'm discovered, who can it be' ran through my head. But no, there was no one. They were four dogs which had now stopped barking, one a big lassie dog I'd to chase away as it wanted to keep me company or eat my polenta. They were just four dogs out on an evening stroll.
Today's ride: 119 km (74 miles)
Total: 4,419 km (2,744 miles)
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