As I sit in a hotel room, scrubbed clean, hair shaven and back cushioned, it seems to be a good time to reflect on the last 2 months and 2700 kms of cycling. After a month without a roof over our heads my generous brother has put us up for the night in a hotel boasting 3 very sizeable stars. We are making sure to get our moneys worth. Hours of washing revealed selectively tanned bodies, beautifully bronzed calfs and arms, and blindingly white feet, chests and bottoms. Complimentary breakfast this morning was a long affair as we ploughed our way through piles of pastries and loaded pockets with jam as the waiters looked on with what could have been great admiration.
After being described this week as "a third world santa" I decided that the facial hair had to go. Although offering tasty morsels of food for snacking throughout the day it also started to get up my nose when I was cycling. I reached for the razor and trusted Anna with some hotel scissors. Anna immediately remarked that my nose and ears are now too big for my face, but Granny Viets is very appreciative.
While the first month is a blurred memory of wind and tears, the second has been superb. We left the Carraterra Austral last week, a beautiful road through the south of Chile that takes you through some incredible places. Campsites in the middle of nowhere present themselves each night and, with no light pollution, the night sky is indescribable (by me). It is a hugely popular cycling route and we met people from all over the world, on all sorts of trips. Chileans with two weeks off, people away for 6 months and some who have been cycling for 7, 8 and 9 years.
Last Week
On leaving Futaleufu we spent a silky smooth 10kms cycling on pavement to the border, only to find to our dismay that the road onwards was a dusty, gravelly mess heading out of the mountains and into the desert. At times like these its nice to pop the headphones in and listen to an audiobook, perhaps the soothing voice of Stephen Fry as he narrates the adventures of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Sadly, for me at least this is no longer possible. On finding a washing machine last week Anna gleefully threw in her clothes, my clothes, and; perhaps caught in the excitement of the moment, many of my other possessions. Despite a night in a bag of rice, my mp3 player is no more. Free of distraction we made it through the day and arrived in Trevelin, a bizarre place where the local map and some road signs are written in Welsh. I have no idea why.
A couple of days into Argentina we headed through the national park de los Alerces, a beautiful area by day, and a slightly terrifying one by night. Due to the pollination of a certain plant the rat population has boomed, bringing with it the much publicized Hanta virus. All camping within the park has been banned and everything is closed down. On talking to the park ranger on where to camp further on he offered this small piece of advice - "keep everything in your tent..... and pray". Although the rats spent all night scuttling around us, happily they didn't start gnawing our tent or us
and we survived, virus free.
As we progressed northward we hit busy main roads for the first time and it was terrifying. As the VietNam cycling veteran Anna continued cycling nonchalantly, I jumped from the road with every passing car and look forward to covering myself in fluorescent clothes and flashing lights in the near future.
Three more days of foraging fruit trees, sun, busy roads, a swim, a magic show and we arrived in San Carlos de Bariloche.
After being described this week as "a third world santa" I decided that the facial hair had to go. Although offering tasty morsels of food for snacking throughout the day it also started to get up my nose when I was cycling. I reached for the razor and trusted Anna with some hotel scissors. Anna immediately remarked that my nose and ears are now too big for my face, but Granny Viets is very appreciative.While the first month is a blurred memory of wind and tears, the second has been superb. We left the Carraterra Austral last week, a beautiful road through the south of Chile that takes you through some incredible places. Campsites in the middle of nowhere present themselves each night and, with no light pollution, the night sky is indescribable (by me). It is a hugely popular cycling route and we met people from all over the world, on all sorts of trips. Chileans with two weeks off, people away for 6 months and some who have been cycling for 7, 8 and 9 years.Last Week
On leaving Futaleufu we spent a silky smooth 10kms cycling on pavement to the border, only to find to our dismay that the road onwards was a dusty, gravelly mess heading out of the mountains and into the desert. At times like these its nice to pop the headphones in and listen to an audiobook, perhaps the soothing voice of Stephen Fry as he narrates the adventures of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Sadly, for me at least this is no longer possible. On finding a washing machine last week Anna gleefully threw in her clothes, my clothes, and; perhaps caught in the excitement of the moment, many of my other possessions. Despite a night in a bag of rice, my mp3 player is no more. Free of distraction we made it through the day and arrived in Trevelin, a bizarre place where the local map and some road signs are written in Welsh. I have no idea why.A couple of days into Argentina we headed through the national park de los Alerces, a beautiful area by day, and a slightly terrifying one by night. Due to the pollination of a certain plant the rat population has boomed, bringing with it the much publicized Hanta virus. All camping within the park has been banned and everything is closed down. On talking to the park ranger on where to camp further on he offered this small piece of advice - "keep everything in your tent..... and pray". Although the rats spent all night scuttling around us, happily they didn't start gnawing our tent or us and we survived, virus free.
As we progressed northward we hit busy main roads for the first time and it was terrifying. As the VietNam cycling veteran Anna continued cycling nonchalantly, I jumped from the road with every passing car and look forward to covering myself in fluorescent clothes and flashing lights in the near future.
Three more days of foraging fruit trees, sun, busy roads, a swim, a magic show and we arrived in San Carlos de Bariloche.
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