Last night was not easy. Puerto Rio Tranquilo exists soley for tourists and the noise levels refelct it. There was some big party (some festival of sorts, we think) going on with music blaring until three o'clock this morning. The wind was still howling when we got up feeling quite unrefreshed at about eight o'clock. Wew quickly decided to skip what the town had offer and instead make a dent in the distance between us and Cochrane, about 115Km away, where we plan to rest and work for a few days. Forecasts of bad weather for the middle of next week also made us want to get to Cochrane before it struck.

We stopped on the edge of town to eat some pan and salami we had bought for breakfast and we surprised to see Jackson and Elizabeth walking by. They were staying an extra night so that they could try and get some cash, in which they were running low. Cochrane has an ATM but Jackson was worried they might not be able to get money there. We've been carrying a stash of extra Pesos that we drew in Puerto Montt because we had heard cash was difficult to come by on the route.

The climb out of Rio Tranquilo was pretty tough - a rough corrugated road with some steep sections. My knees were feeling a bit tender but I still find it easier to ride than to push. It was slow going and when we finally got to the top we turned westwards into the wind. The corrugations and loose gravel made the descent almostr as slow as the climb but we didn't rush because we thought we would only cover about thirty kilometers for the day befiore finding a place to wild camp. Near the bottom we met an Australian and a Dane who had started from Ushuaia - the first cyclists we had met who had started so far south. I guess they would struggle to start further south because Ushuaia is the southernmost town in the world. The Dane was heading up to Colombia while the Aussie was heading for Alaska. Impressive !

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At about thirty kilometers we turned southwards and the road conditions improved a bit. The wind was now on our backs and we rushed along at more than twice our earlier speed. Suddenly the day had become a lot more enjoyable. We found a nice looking camping spot next to a river running into Lagos General Carrera but we decided to push on. It turned out that it was the last place we would find. Just before fifty kilometers we saw a sign for accommodation, including camping, so we turned down the track towards the lake where we found out that it would cost us fourteen thousand CLP each to camp. I told the young fellow at reception he must be smoking dope. A more senior looking person came out and berated me, saying that they provide a superior service etc. All I wanted was ducha caliente and a place to pitch my tent. It was only six kilometers to a campsite that was marked on maps.me so we carried on, up a stiff climb with a good. hard-packed surface, and over the hill between the lake and the valley in which Lago Bertrand lies. Another little track lead us down to Cerra Color Camping, a delightful rural place run by Nino and Florentina. A spotless common area (it's too smart to be called a refugio) with the cleanest bathrooms and the best kept kitchen we have seen so far.

Today's route has once again thrown some great vistas at us. Unfortunately a lot of the time we were just slugging it out with the road and wind and not able to take it all in. The scenery has also changed again with the area around Cerro Color reminding me a lot of Barrydale in the western Little Karroo.

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