January 22, 2011
To Dolavan
Recall if you can, a fortnight back in Bahia Blanca hostel, I met Hamid and his friends from South Africa, well, they were here too staying in the hostel in Trelew. I never got mush of why he was traveling until last-night he went into why.
"The World Cup in South Africa last year there came so many people from Argentina, that I thought I owed them a bisit" he said in his deep South African brogue. "People here think we're funny the way we dress in dresses", they are attired in strict Islamic dress. "A newspaperman" he continued "here, interviewing me asked me what I did in South Africa. I told him I's a furniture-maker. Damn, he most've misunderstood, as I read to day in the paper, "I'm a simpleton" hee hee", he broke into laughter, then he rejoined "no, they wrote, "I'm a shipbuilder, hee hee".
As I rode from Trelew city-centre this morning, wind howled Eastwards along every street bringing with it a hail of sand which got in the eyes, and the few pedestrian out cowered quickly along, I saw Hamid and his friends in the shelter of a shopfront as I grovelled by. I shouted out "hey" and steered to the pavement, making the joke "no one in Trelew dresses like yous". We said our goodbyes. One of the friends, Nasin, tried to convert me to Islam. I said "No Thanks, there's too much religion and not enough practised".
After some confusion cycling back and forth, eventually I found the right road out. I was back on the road from whence I returned from Gaiman yesterday afternoon, ploughing the wind on one straight and leaning once the road turned the corner along the next straight, as the road meandered it's way around farms with lines of Popular trees bending in the wind. The wind was easing though, and was only to be a morning affair, as it had settle by the time I reached Gaiman. It had been approaching midday when I had left Trelew and it was now after two. I cycled along the central thoroughfare hoping to find some place where I could eat lunch but all was shut till evening. The only people about were holiday-makers passing through. Most where at the YPF service-station on the main-street stuck next to a two-story stone-house with slate roof, looking as if it had been plucked straight out of Wales. Here I went too, as it was warm, and I needed a cold drink before continuing on. There was nothing good for eating on offer unless you like biscuits, in any case I'd half last night's dinner of steak, veg and mashed potatoes saved in a Tupperware which I could eat if need be.
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Onwards from Gaiman, via the Provincial road which meanders along the lush valley rather than the direct National road going direct to Dolavan which is boring as it crosses the dry scrub up on the hill. Soon though, I wish I'd taken it as the smooth ash-felt ran out, and onwards was small river-stones and sand which in places was unconsolidated, the wheel sinking and both bike and me skidding to a halt. It was especially bad where the road skirted the valley's Southern edge, where barrancas or an arid embankment slopes up to the dry tableland above, here the road ascended and descended over bumps. The up parts being hard to find a compacted car-track which was rideable.
The road swung back out to the valley's middle again and more solid road, crossing irrigation dikes and eventually the green Chubut river via an old wooden bridge. Because of the slow pace I's very warm and I wondered how much more there was to Dolavan. On turning each bend, there was a long slow straight ahead which most be ridden. And it was getting on, now gone six. I came to a crossroads in which it was unclean should I turn or go straight on. I chose the later and a few hundred metres ahead, I saw a red spot which I recognise as a Stop sign when I'd progressed further and then a car flashed by, it was a paved road.
I wasn't clear where I was when I turned onto the paved road, the bike rolled quickly enough now, but the chain was noisy and sluggish with dust. Soon though I saw a village ahead. This most be it. I've been here before, it's Dolavan.
I passed by one of the many small family run shops, buying a loaf of homemade bread, soup for the days ahead, and a bottle of red wine to go with my evening's dinner saved from last-night. I was now hungry not having eaten since morning. I also bough a big bottle of my now favorite drink, Grapefruit Fanta, and savoured it's cool zesty taste sitting outside the shop feeling somewhat exhausted, before I could ride on to the municipal camping-site.
Tomorrow, I'm hoping to reach the village of Las Plumas, 155km West. There are allot of people on the camping-site, I hope they are quiet during the night.
Today's ride: 72 km (45 miles)
Total: 9,160 km (5,688 miles)
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