Tue 20th Sep: Villa Union > 72km to 119km < San Juan

September 20, 2016

Awake at seven, half an hour before sunrise. You mightn't think waking in this scrubland where I am is all that nice, but you'd be wrong. The bushes attact lots of small birds, so it's a soulful start to the day.

I break camp shortly after eight, pushing the bike back out to the road. Today I need to put in a good 130 kilometres, if I want to reach San Juan tomorrow. Again the early stop yesterday pays off in me feeling fresh and enthusiastic.

I keep the pedals spinning in a feel easy manner. I'm on a straight road that dips and rises with the view never far ahead, though eventually I cross a rise with the view opening out further ahead to a range of redish pink hills where the next village on my map is located.

It looks like there'll be a bit of a climb ahead on from the village though. It is like arriving at a village at the bottom of a cliff. I stop here for a rest before the enevitable steep climb. Like all the villages, there's an extensive area of greenery all around, irrigated fields enclosed in tall elm tree windbreaks.

As for the road it swings left. The hill away doesn't happening. Skirting a continuation of sand colour hills that lead into a narrow valley with a steady rise for quite a few kilometres, to eventually crest the rise, where a large green bottomed valley opens up below, bound by grey cliffs on the far side.

It's about here I notice my front wheel soft. Checking it I find It's going down slowly, so I pumps some air in it as I don't want to delay. Hoping to pump it up again a few times until I camp, when I can change the innertube.

The valley I descend into is that of the Jachal river that I cross over upon a long bridge. But the namesake village is ten kilometres off route 40, a right turn at a junction the other side of the bridge. A lunch detour that I'm not prepared to do with my softning front tyre. Nonetheless, there's a comidor by the junction where I pull in upon the gravel apron. Gayly painted yellow with "Comidor Bio-oceanic" over the entrance.

I enter. Inside is grim. Curtains drawn, the lights turned off. There's no one about. Though there's a fridge with cold drinks switched on humming in the corner. I take out a large bottle of coke before calling for attention.

I hear a groan from a back room. Soon a large but distressed looking man come out behind the counter, switchs on a light and takes my money. Charging me 40 pesos; it's cheap, seeing I was charged the same for a bottle of coke in the supermercado yesterday. He certainly isn't over charging me. It goes without saying business is bad. He turns off the light again before returning to the back room. Sign enough there isn't much money to waist on unnecessary electric lights.

Descending to Rio Jackal. I thought the smoke was a scrubland fire at first from afar, but nearer find it to be a tyre bonfire.

Oh by now my camera is playing up. I cannot adjust the shutter speed/ aperture number, so I'm stuck with photos like this which are either overexposed, or underexposed, ie, too light or dark.

The money it would seem isn't there, so less people are stopping. Its only a matter of time before the Comidor Bio-oceanic goes under.

I have noticed on this trip the lack of visitors from overseas. Americans have to pay to enter the country, and all tourists pay a ripoff tax on ATM withdrawals. Without a doubt this has had a negitive effect on businesses dependant on tourism. Businesses such as hostels it seems are having a hard time surviving. The country has become too expensive for the budget traveller.

However, after the weekend blowout in Chilecito, this last few days of spend next to nothing has brough my daily expenditure back to a reasonable 14 pounds a day.

Playing around with the camera, looking out from the tent, trying to get it to work properly, namely, being able to adjust both shutter and aperture again. But no joy.

Turning left at the junction, the road on passes through salt marsh, before a gradual rise to where I halt at a drystream. I push the bike in a way under an old railway bridge to a big tree, underneat which I pitch the tent. Then set about changing an innertube, fixing a slow puncture.

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