Kindness of Strangers: Route 3, km 424, to 40 km before Pringle.

November 16, 2015

Those visiting Argentina, will notice such a wide verge between road and fence. I assume this stems from the days when cattle were driven on foot. Large herds need space to spread out.

When paying for a pepsi in the petrol station cafeteria yesterday, the servitor offered a straw to drink with; which at first I refused, but in a split second, change my mind and accept, realizing how useful a straw could be; like satchels of sugar intended for coffee in a cafe, instead, when camping, put in a pocket to sweeten breakfast cereal. I suddenly thought I could use the straw to drink mate, the green "yerba", like tea, which I've a bag of, but lack the usual metal straw used for drinking it. So here I am, drinking mate through a soft-drinks straw, with oat biscuits for breakfast. The threatened rain hasn't come and it is a still morning. I should've been away out of this field by now, but I think it unlikely there'll come anybody: the padlock on the gate seems to be untouched in a long time. Besides, I'm on a hardcore apron by the side of the loading pen, not disturbing nothing, to the side of which, is an electric fence enclosing a field of oats.

I reach the next town, Chaves with another long detour off to the side, around nine, after a couple of hours on route 3, the traffic much lighter this morning. I find a family run supermercado in the corner of the main plaza and stock up on a couple of days food; tuna to go with pasta, bread and a tub of "Dulce de Leche" toffee spread. I will need more cash soon, but there's only the usual two banks, the provincial and, the national bank, neither of which connects with my bank at home.

There's another forty-eight kilometres to the next town, Tres Arroyos; during which, I'm feeling drowsy, unable to keep my eyes open, and am glad when I come to a roadside grove of eucalyptus trees with a vehicle track in: here, for my own safety, I ride in and lay down on the grass and sleep for what would've been a half hour.

Tres Arroyos, I thought would be a sizable place, with a bank where I could get cash, but instead is a four or five kilometre drag of mainly farm machinery dealerships either side of route 3. There is a nice picnic area on the way in, where I'm tempted to stop for lunch, but am not too hungry and don't want to be eating food I may need, until I reach a city where I can get cash to buy more. Then, having passed through and coming out into countryside, remember that six kilometres on is the turnoff for provincial route 85, the way I plan on going, with a hundred and ten kilometres to the next town. And seeing just beyond an edge of town Petrobras petrol station, a small "comedor" restaurant and think, if I don't eat something substantial, I'm going to be very hungry later with only pasta, bread and Dulce de Leche to eat. So, with two-hundred pesos, I go ahead and stop.

Don't get in the way of one of these. It's a long run to the side to get out of it's way.

I order "lomito completo", a steak sandwich with ham and salad, with coke to drink.

The news is on the TV, the sound turned down while music oozes from the sound-system. It being election time in Argentina, there's pictures of one of the main candid's wife in "Hola" magazine. Then, on the continuous headline text running along the bottom of the screen, is the news of a terrorist attach in Paris. Soon the candid's wife piece has finished and the presenters expressions become troubled, as pictures of taped off street and police come from Paris. Then a youtube video of a suspect is shown, hooded in black garb, shouting and blandishing a meat clever next a kneeing, frightened head shaven man, wearing only an orange rope. The pictures move on to some Hollywood awards with subtitles on the screen, the stars interviewed, send their condolences to relatives of those that lost loved ones.

It come as a surprize when two sandwiches on a plate come. I remark to the waitress, I only ordered one, thinking they misunderstood me and thought I wanted two, but she smiles with a yes it is a lot, isn't it, expression, and says something to the effect, yes this is one sandwich. I can only assume an act of kindness when seeing a hungry cyclist.

Well, with a big basket of chips and one baguette the width of the plate and thick with filling, I am full. Then I get the waitress to wrap the other sandwich for tomorrow.

To the side with strong sun to the right.

Provincial route 85, starts well; the traffic is light and countryside rolling farmland, but become a drag as the countryside onward flattens out and the road goes on and on.

It being near enough treeless and fenced in pasture and crop either side, options for camping aren't looking great. Every time a plot of woodland appears ahead, on getting there, I see it conceals a house. Then I do come to a long grove driveway supposedly to a house, which is overgrown with waist high grass and a chained and padlocked wooden gate at the road hasn't by the look of things been opened in years. There is no recent vehicle tracks in off the road. So, I uncouple the panniers and lift them and the bike over the gate. Then recouple the panniers and cycle up the driveway, on a single-track of a vehicle track, with front panniers flicking through an opening in the tall grass, until a place amongst the pine trees to the side, where the grass is shorter and I can flatten it enough to pitch the tent.

Today's ride: 144 km (89 miles)
Total: 634 km (394 miles)

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