The long journey, to Iguassu, is well underway..

October 26, 2010

I reach a service station with cafeteria for refreshments by mid morning. The owner a heavy build stocky man with black curly hair was talking very angrily on his Mobil. His loud furious voice sounded to me like German. I'm sure I heard the SH.... swear word a few times. All the same the final exchange of words before closing the phone went from deep guttural to normal Brazilian sing song Portuguese. Whatever it was it appeared he was in a terrible mood, but, appearance can sometimes be perceptive because when a lady and small child came in he talked very jovially to them. And indeed when I's paying he spoke amicably showing genuine interest in my cycle-tour.

From a crossroad where I stop to read a passage from my book.

I'm now stopped in the shade of a bus-shelter at a crossroads. I like theses short stops to read a paragraph from my book or write my diary whatever. I like to have a book on the go at all times and reading in the tent at night with the head-torch isn't because of poor eyesight an option with me. I'm fine writing by torchlight but I like to write like this during the day often in the present tense. I write, across the road a side road runs off towards yellow hills. More wheat. I'm glad though I'm not taking this road as a hundred metres from the crossroads the pavement finishes and it's a dusty red track. In a field on that side too there's the humming sound of a combine harvester hidden from view by a double line of trees.

I cycle onwards towards the town of Santa Augusta a road that twists and turns with many a steep hill. There's little or no grass verge instead there's high hedges and trees right by the roadside. Further more there isn't a shoulder so it's a scenario common on Irish roads too where the hedges which here provide cool shade but the shadow reduces visibility as well as the blind bends and dips. Not a problem if everybody were to drive with due care and attention but do they.

In Santa Augusta I stop at a service station restaurant, Poste or Charrascuras, as they're called here. There's the usual buffet lunch. I've eaten lamb, which is quite good here, black beans, beetroot and all the veg on offer, carrots and white cabbage which as always are cooked just right that is crunchy. I go to pay but for the third day now they wave me off and instead ask a great deal of questions about my journey. And it's frustrating not to understand much because I feel a great deal of gratitude having eaten a nice filling meal for nothing.

I like the pattern in that field. Near Santa Augusta.

Yet again it's a hot afternoon, especially noticeable on the many short climbs. Now there's a shoulder so I'm safe from the many speeding cars. But the shoulder isn't smooth like the road. It is instead unrolled tarmac with a rough pebble finish in places, in other places there is a thin layer of stones. I don't know what is worse the rough surface constantly rocking the fork or the scrunch of lose stones on the warm uphill. On the descends I take my chances out on the road as I would not be able to avoid the really rough parts which there are many, damaging the wheels or even worse crashing.

The day drew on. I pasted through two villages which were memorable because Between the first and the second there was a steep bumpy decent where I'd to brake allot and choose my route down carefully to avoid holes. What goes down must go up, or was it whatever, down into a hollow I was and so began a climb up through the second village which soon went from bumpy to cobblestones up the centre thoroughfare where people outside shops stopped and looking on. I couldn't imagine what the people thought but I's thinking how mush longer does this village and climb with the sun beating down on me go on for until I get to the flat and open with air circulation.

After that I's looking forward to an early finish and cycled seven kilometres more finding a small plantation. On looking around amongst the trees there was too must thick undergrowth but I found the way into the adjoining stubble field which because of the plantation I camped well concealed from the road.

Today's ride: 105 km (65 miles)
Total: 4,654 km (2,890 miles)

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