November 11, 2015
Run To The Hills: Big roundabout junction to Tandil
Home in Europe at the moment, the days are drawing in and growing colder, but here the seasons are upside down. Instead of Autumn it is Spring. The days are longer and as long as the sun is shining, the sky is a vivid deep blue, unlike the glare and fainter blue of Summer coupled with oppressive heat; such was the case when last I cycled in the province of Buenos Aires, January 2011. The countryside scorched brown by Summer, whereas now it's lush green and it is cool to pleasantly warm.
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Already I feel proud starting where I did and am enjoying the road so far. The province of Buenos Aires, I feel is a good choice for cycle-touring, if like me, you like table flat open space. Although, now, on the horizon there are hills.
I began the day with sixty kilometres to Tandil, feeling much more rested and full of energy, but now I'm feeling tired again as those hills draw ever near. And then the hardly visibly steady incline rears up to a short steep rise, the first of many for the rest of the way to Tandil.
There comes a transformation from far and level green horizon, to stony rock-outcrop rouge hills; before which, are gently sloping fields, rectanglar stripes of crop. I pass fields of regular brown soil ridges and the green leafy tops of potatoes just about meeting tops in adjoining ridges. Which reminds me of the Australian in the hostel in Buenos Aires. He claimed I didn't have much of an Irish accent, after I'd imitated his accent as way of introduction. I put on a real strong Irish accent "They always give yeh grand spuds with steak here. Surely they ave to import them from Ireland" 'They originate here' says the listener "Aye no, yer ould arsh" 'They came from America' listener stresses. "Aye naw, now yer diddling may."
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I pull to a halt in Tandil's main plaza shortly before twelve. Then at a pedestrian crossing, see a dog waiting to cross, who looks up and makes eye contact with a car driver, just like us humans would do. The car stops and the dog crosses over and I follow, on my way to a bank, where follows a repeat performance from the other day, of not being able to draw cash from the ATM at two banks. One, has the message "You have entered an invalid amount" what does that mean. I pressed 700, when the amounts came up, surely that is valid. The other bank went on with the transaction as normal until the part where the machine kicks to shuffling money inside, followed by a hatch opening and a wad slides out; but, it doesn't, instead, my card is abruptly spat out with a brief message lacking common courtesy "Take it!"
Dejected, I make for the hostel hoping they except payment by card, but they don't, so I pay in cash for one night, leaving just enough for lunch. The receptionist marks other banks on a city map, all within a block of each other off the plaza. The Banco Patagonia, is the first on my way and I'm delighted when I here that shuffling sound inside. My crisis is over.
I pay for a second night (Thursday) at the hostel, but Friday night is fully booked, as are three other hostels and two cheap hotels I inquire at. The reason is there's a big conference on in town over the weekend "Something Social de America" So on Friday morning after checking out, I spend the morning in a Molly Malone cafe, journal writing, then in the afternoon ride out to a lake on the edge of town, where there's a campsite, according to the accommodation information on the map, but on the way lose the map. Well, to sum up, having asked directions, I'm on my way and am passing a hostel, a nice bungalow on a hill and on checking, they've room. So here I am having checked in for two nights and will be back on the road Sunday.
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Today's ride: 64 km (40 miles)
Total: 394 km (245 miles)
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