Globicyclette in Argentina.

 

 

Dear traveller friends, we welcome you to the land of the gauchos, tango and the "che", welcome to Argentina!

Our difficult adventures in Bolivia have left us slightly haggard and somewhat exhausted. After the Southern Lipez, what new surprises await us the other side of the border post? What other difficulties will we have to face?
We will soon see...

 


2-10 January 2008: Argentina, the warrior's rest...

 

The Bolivian border post is in keeping with our days in the Sud Lipez: lost in the middle of nowhere, perched at the top of an ochre hill at 4500 m, in an eternal raging wind which has torn half the national flag into shreds and which screams endlessly in our ears... In front of us is Chile. On our right is a long descent to San Pedro de Atacama, a big Chilean city at the foot of the Andes. To our left, the track climbs towards Argentina... So full left!
The road ahead offers us our first gift: There, a few metres away, is asphalt! Yes, at last! After almost a month of trails and stony tracks, we see good old asphalt, a beautiful smooth grey band that we have learned to cherish. We hold our breath as we make the long-awaited transition. Aaaah! What a delight! Hurrah for Chile and its modern roads!
But it seems that our bikes have also found that conditions are improving, because after only a few kilometres of euphoric pedalling, Phileas has a breakdown. Unhealthy noises come from its rear sprockets... Phileas has resisted bravely so far, but now gives up. We discover that the sprockets are in a terrible state. They are no longer solidly attached and move relative to each other.
That's very bad news! It's impossible to continue like that. But the next village is 150 km away! We have no choice; we will have to hitch-hike. Frustration! We have just found a good road, and moreover it's downhill!
We sit down on the roadside. But the big 4-wheel drive trucks go past without giving a glance... And considering the (in)frequency of the traffic, we fear we are condemned to spend the day without progressing.

But, no, we are rescued by a tiny van, no bigger than a Renault "Kangoo", belonging to a Spanish-Argentine couple of our age. When they stop, we tell them not to bother because our bikes will never fit in their vehicle. But they simply refuse to abandon us like that. They extirpate a mattress from their van, and the mattress and the bikes will go on the roof!

No sooner said than done, and we pile the rest of the luggage at the rear. Amanda sits on top of the luggage, on a second mattress, and Olivier squeezes into the front with our new angels, Ruth and Pablo. They offer to take us a long way, to the small town of Jujuy, in Argentina. The trip lasts a full day and Amanda, exhausted by the exploits of the previous days, sleeps for 10 hours out of the next 18! She needed some rest... Despite the lack of a stamp on the passports authenticating our arrival in Chile, crossing the border into Argentina poses no problem. We are just terribly frustrated to descend the thousands of meters that we had worked so hard to climb, all in magnificent scenery on perfect asphalt, but... in a van! What a heresy! What a waste, all these beautiful descents that should have been a treat... But we must not complain. We are very lucky to have found transport that leaves us in Jujuy.
Now we have a new challenge: the night is falling fast, we are in the middle of a town, where are we going to put our tent?
We try our luck with Argentinean police, but they say no. As darkness draws in, we are left little choice: we will have to beg for a piece of garden.

But the task is not so difficult: the first house, at which we dare to ask, is the good one! We come across a family with two children, and they seem happy to let us pitch our tent on their lawn. The mother gives us access to the garden tap and to the toilet: great!
We prepare our evening meal whilst we chat with the children, and Millie, the granddaughter, decorates our tent with a large "Barbie" sticker... Which is still in place today! Olivier now spends all his nights with three "Barbies"... the benefits of civilization!

In a single day, we have changed from the arid deserts of Bolivia to an Argentina that reminds us very much of Europe. Since leaving Madrid, we had never recovered this impression of being "home". What a change! Here, the average standard of living has nothing to do with that of Peru or Bolivia, it is close to that of a French town. Even people are physically more "European".

In the town centre, we discover a veritable Ali Baba's cavern for gourmets: caterers are to be found at every street corner, offering "empanadas", fresh pasta, and fabulous quiches! At prices that would give French shopkeepers a nightmare... And it's the same thing with bakeries! They have bread almost identical to French "baguettes" and, above all, "facturas" small pastries sold by the dozen, croissants, apple pies, everything! Incredible... We devour more than necessary, and would like to buy everything.
After a spending a Christmas eating pasta, we had not even dreamt of such delicacies...
But this is not the only good news: coming back from our shopping, we discover that our host's neighbour loves cycling, and is also very generous. When he hears about our mechanical problems, he decided to take control of the situation. Without really giving us a choice, he takes Phileas' wheel, puts two enormous and fabulous ice creams in our hands and comes back later in the day with a wheel that is completely repaired! Even better, he changed all the parts; the hub and sprockets are all brand new. We are astounded, and moreover he categorically refuses any sort of reimbursement. Have we fallen into a cyclist's paradise?

To celebrate our return to civilization and the miraculous recovery of Phileas, we offer ourselves a little luxury: an evening in a restaurant!
Our ex-neighbours in Montpellier have sent a cheque to Globicyclette with instructions to use it for an "extra" during the festivities, so let's go! We find a nice small restaurant a few blocks away, and we order... meat of course! "Asado," i.e. a huge assortment of grilled meat, accompanied with, oh luxury, a bottle of wine: it's fiesta time! And it's fabulous. The best meal of the trip, aahh Argentine meat, so tender, so juicy!

It is with contented stomachs that we give our first pushes on the pedals in Argentina, savouring the smooth softness of asphalt roads.

Our next step is Salta, the next city to the south. Hardened by our commando training in Bolivia, we speed lightly along these "easy" roads. At only 1000 m above sea level we have almost too much air, and even climbing the slopes does not leave us breathless. Euphoric, especially when there is no wind or sand!

We quickly cover the 10 km separating us from Salta, where we find the change of scenery already found in Jujuy. We could be in the streets of a French town! Modern stores, cafes with terraces, supermarkets, pedestrian streets, it's all there. Moreover, we are in the middle of summer in January. It is quite pleasant, and the temperature is very different that of Southern Lipez: it is hot, even too hot in the sun! Fortunately, ice cream here costs next to nothing...

At Salta, we are housed in a new "casa de ciclistas". A cyclist we met in Peru had given us the address of Ramon and his family. We immediately feel at home and we are pampered by Tina, the mother, an Argentinean "mama" with a generous heart. We have hot showers, double servings of ice cream, soft mattresses and endless discussions around the big family table. Decidedly, Argentina is the cyclists Paradise!

We are not the only cyclists to benefit from the generosity of Ramon and his family: we meet Seki, a Japanese cyclo-camper from Alaska, and his first action, of course, is to photograph our bikes! There is also José, a Spanish cyclist, Jesus from Buenos Aires, and particularly Michel and Lief, a French-speaking Belgian couple with whom we immediately make friends. Discovering that we are travelling in the same direction, we decide to do some road together. After three days of being pampered, it is with regrets that we leave this generous "casa"...

We make our grateful farewells to Tiña, Ramon and their brothers and sisters, before leaving to explore the beautiful valley to south of Salta: the "quebrada" (valley) of Cafayate.
And here we are again on the roads! We are never weary of the smoothness of the asphalt. The first dozen kilometres are on the flat, and we speed along at high speed! Michel and Lief, who are less loaded, pedal even faster than us, under a strong burning sun that makes us suffer. But the entertainment offered by the "quebrada" is worth our overheated efforts: we are surrounded by beautiful ochre hills, and we follow a river loaded with alluviums, having the colour of hot chocolate. Argentina offers us a mini "grand canyon"!

Gradually other colours appear in rocks, white and green. The mountains takes strange forms, shaped by erosion from the river. We pass strange gorges and immense caverns, sculpted by ancient waterfalls. In the cliffs, we hear the cry of strange bright acid green parakeets that fly in noisy squads above our heads.

At the end of the "quebrada", the small town of Cafayate is waiting for us. We let our companions settle into the local campsite. We have to think about the route ahead: to arrive at Ushuaia in late February as planned, we will have to speed up and cross a large part of Argentina by bus. Luckily, the least interesting part of the country is in front of us: the bleak Argentine "pampas", flat and empty. We therefore decide to take a bus from here to the nearby city of Tucuman, where travel companies propose trips to the south. So Globicyclette takes the bus, a night bus again, and at midnight we are at the bus station, our baggage unhooked from bikes. Michel and Lief, forewarned, come to make their farewells. We are touched, considering the late hour.

 


11 - January 15: The infernal Argentinean buses.

 

After a night in the bus, we arrive in Tucuman. Our next job is to find a bus to take us to the far south. We want to go to San Carlos de Bariloche, in the beautiful "lake district" and resume our pedalling from there. But a nasty surprise awaits us: all the buses are full, for all the companies in the terminal! The next free bus is not before tomorrow evening. We have no choice; we will have to spend two full days and a night in Tucuman. We wanted to save time by taking a bus and we are frustrated.
But where can we sleep tonight? Hehe, we are resourceful adventurers, and our friend Ramon, in Salta, had mentioned the existence of another "casa de cyclistas" in Tucuman.

A quick phone call, and we are invited by Benjamin, who opens his door with a big smile: "Welcome to my home!" It's wonderful, all these people who we open their homes so generously! There is no big family here, Benjamin lives alone, but he has friends. We go with them to taste the empanadas of Tucuman, which they say they are the best in Argentina. We agree! The two days of waiting goes quickly in their company and we are back in the bus terminal.

We are anxious again, as each time when Phileas and Heidi travel as "baggage" and not as "passengers". Will the bus driver let us load our bikes? When we purchased our tickets, we were assured that there would be no problem, provided that we dismantle the bikes as much as possible, and pay a surcharge. We are here in front of the bus stop, well ahead of schedule, with bicycles reduced to the status of carcasses: wheels and seats removed, derailleurs wrapped up.

But despite assurance of the ticket lady, the driver does not arrive in advance. And when he does arrive, 10 minutes before departure, he does not seem at all happy to see what is waiting for him. He barks: "Bicycles? Absolutely not! No bikes on the bus!" "But we were told that..." "I don't give a damn, there is no room for bikes in the locker!" "But they are dismantled, as requested!" "They are bicycles, I will not take bikes on the bus!" Meanwhile, other passengers carrying huge bags of jute (flour? onions?) put them in the locker. Our bikes would have gone in twofold... The driver refuses to reply any more, and turns his back on us at each solicitation. Totally unhelpful.

A second driver comes to our rescue: "You must send them 'enconmienda'." As what? But... The bus leaves in two minutes! We finally understand that we need to send the bicycles as cargo, and that it's going to cost us about as much as the price of our own tickets. Olivier runs to the 'enconmiendas' office, with the dismantled bicycles in his arms, whilst Amanda tries to retain the bus: "Don't, leave yet my husband has gone to the 'enconmiendas', and we have already paid for our tickets with bicycles!" "I don't care, either you board now, without the bikes, or I leave without you." Amanda desperately looks for Olivier... But on the other side of the terminal, the clerk at the enconmiendas has decided to take his time and carefully measures the dimensions of the bicycles. A third bus driver mockingly hails Amanda: "Well beauty, have you lost your husband?" He made the sign of horns "He's run away, He'll never come back!" Amanda is taken aback by so much bad manners. She is on the point of exploding when Olivier returns: "They have not finished yet, it's going to take some time." But the driver is without pity, "Close the doors, it's time to go!" Helpless, we watch "our bus" leave without us. We can't believe our eyes! Trembling with rage, we make a scandal at the counter. The poor saleswoman doesn't know where to put herself. But obviously at 9 pm on a Saturday night, there is no way to contact the person in charge.

We are furious to suffer from so much incompetence and bad manners, but our anger does not change the facts: The next bus is in three days... Three days! It's a scandal! We are tempted to ask for a refund. But then how could we go to Bariloche? We have no choice; we will have to wait... Amanda manages to convince Olivier not to smash the window of the bus agency and it is completely disheartened that we wonder how we can fill three long days of waiting.

Clearly, with a suit, a tie, and a better haircut, things would not have been the same. We now feel sympathy for lost foreigners who do not speak good French and whom nobody will help! Our negotiations to have a hotel paid have failed miserably. We do not know where to go for the night. It is not possible to turn up at Benjamin's at this time of the night. So we move sadly into the lugubrious, but quasi-deserted waiting room, and we prepare ourselves to spend a bad night under the neon lights.
The next day we have calmed down a little, and we decide to flee this cursed terminal, and go spend three days out of town, alongside a lake a few dozen kilometres from the city. We manage to send our bikes ahead by "enconmienda", with the help of a new salesman, much more helpful than his predecessor and for a much lower price. Now reduced to being simple pedestrians, we set off by bus for the "countryside" and settle for one of the several campsites on the shores of the lake. Fortunately the region is very pretty, and finally we spend three pleasant days being idle, even though our legs itch not to ride... Fortunately we brought a mini chess with us (Yes, Olivier wants to prove that he is the one who wins most often!).
And finally, finally, we find ourselves sitting in a bus bound for the South, this time with more friendly drivers.

 


17 - 22 January: Pedalling in the Lake District.

 

When we arrive, our bikes are already there, without a scratch ... Whew! We re-assemble them under a cool blue sky. Bariloche marks the entrance to Patagonia. The landscape has changed completely.

After crossing more than 1000 km of desolate bushy plains, we are under pines trees in the mountains, and in front of us is a huge bright blue lake. We have left the heat wave behind in Tucuman!
Bariloche stretches out along the lake, a small pretty town in a postcard landscape. We are in the Argentinean "Lake District," and we understand what attracts tourists.

We are pleased to be back on our bikes, and to resume our journey to the South. Let's go! On the road to Ushuaia! Youhou! ! A good asphalt road takes us from lake to lake, in magnificent landscapes and without steep slopes.

While pushing hard on our pedals, we are joined by another rider: Great, a new friend! And a special friend: José is deaf and dumb!

He has called his trip from Bariloche to Ushuaia, "rutas del silencio" (the roads of silence), and he wants to show the children of schools for deaf-mutes that this handicap is no reason for not having adventures. We communicate mainly through gestures, but he can also lip-read most of our words. We offer to travel together to the next big city, Esquel. He seems a little demoralized: he did not expect such steep slopes! We have seen much worse during the previous months, and we wonder if he knows what is waiting ahead... Nevertheless, we pedal together up hill and down dale, through many beautiful green landscapes.

Phileas plays up again, breaking his rear derailleur in the middle of a slope (who said that the Sud Lipez was too much for him?). But we quickly find a replacement and continue with renewed enthusiasm. We are delighted with these postcard landscapes and sunshine.

In the pretty town of Esquel, perched in the mountains between two nature reserves, we say goodbye to José. He is frightened by the prospect of the bad tracks ahead, and he has decided to go to Ushuaia by the Atlantic coast. He has found a car that will take him as far as the Valdes Peninsula. We wish him good luck, hoping that his lack of experience will not cause him trouble: everything is more difficult with his disability!

We set off towards the Chilean border. We have decided, to travel down the "Carretera Austral", because everyone is unanimous in saying that it is much more beautiful than Highway 40 in Argentina. In the late afternoon we come to the pretty little village of Trevelin, which marks the end of the asphalt and return to the stone track.

We would like to visit a beautiful waterfall not far from the road, but as we struggle up the difficult track that leads there, we cross several cars on their way back "There is no point in going any further, the site is closed." Closed? How can you close a waterfall? Do they have a tap? No, apparently the only possible (paying) access is closed by a fence. No waterfall for late cyclists! Never mind, it will save us some money. We pitch our tent near the stream that comes from the waterfall, alongside some curious horses. Ah, cooking in the evening sun is a real pleasure... Especially tonight, since we are celebrating: we have bought some Argentinean meat, and we devour two huge perfectly roasted scallops... Mmh!

The next day, we (re-) cross the border into Chile: quick hide the eggs and the onions! (the mangoes have disappeared from the market stalls some time ago...). We finish our tomatoes and cheese just before the checkpoint, and go through with no problem, (and with the rest of a sausage in a pocket!). We leave Argentina where we have again experienced extremes, but this time it was not the weather but the welcome we have received.
But it will be only a short leave: the "Carretera Austral" ends again on the Chile-Argentine border. What interests us now is this mythical Carretera that makes cyclocampeurs dream. It is the only road going down to the far south of Chile, going through very wild land and, we are told, it is magnificent. We are now in Patagonia a region shared jealously between Chile and Argentina and which will take us to the Tierra del Fuego... The world's end! Will we survive our return to the stony trail? Can we still be impressed by the beautiful scenery after that of the Sud Lipez? Will we still find good meat down there? And most importantly... Will it be cold, in the great South? The answers... In the next episode!

Thank you for your patience !

 

The small details of everyday life...

 

Eating...

Aaah, Argentina! Even before our wheels touched the soil, Ruth and Pablo had warned us: prepare your stomachs! After the Bolivian gastronomic desert, we have fallen into an oasis of delicacies...

Come and discover:

  • The Argentinean "empananadas": the best we have tasted! The principle is the same as for those of other countries, but friends, the filling is of another quality! They are generous with the meat, all marinated in a delicious sauce and coated with a soft and crisp crust!

    Here in Argentina, the empanadas are the local "peanuts". When friends meet for a coffee, it is usually around a communal plate of a half-dozen of those little pasties that they nibble as a snack. In fact the streets are filled with "empanaderias" that offer something for everyone: minced beef (carne), but also small cubes of lamb ("corderos"), or more simply, ham and cheese ("ham y queso"), or just "queso", or even the vegetarian version, "verduras". Yum!

  • The "facturas": these small pastries could rival with those of French bakeries, except for the price: less than one euro for six, difficult to refuse, right?
  • The "humitas" and "tamales": they are a hash based on cornflour, nicely packaged between layers of corn leaves. The "tamales" are rich in minced meat while the "humitas" are made only from cob-corn. Both are served piping hot and are delicious!
  • Mate: the typical Argentinean drink. Wherever you may be, at home, on the street, in shops, at a bus terminal, you see Argentineans strolling around with a curious little container in one hand. They delicately sip contents through a metal "straw": the "mate". It is just a simple infusion of a grass: "mate", it is bitter and full of caffeine, slightly stimulating.

    A friend of Benjamin, in Tucuman, explained how to prepare this drink, inevitable here whatever the time of day. It's easy: you fill a suitable small recipient with chopped mate grass. The recipient generally consists of a small gourd, hollowed and decorated. Then you place the metal "straw" (or "bombilla") which is equipped with a very simple filter. You can add a little sugar to compensate for the bitterness, and then you then fill the gourd with hot, but not boiling water and sip it slowly. When there is no liquid left (the receptacle is only small), you add some more water, and so on, until the taste us exhausted. This explains why any self-respecting Argentinean never goes out without his thermos of hot water!

    Mate is also primarily a social drink. Very often "sharing" a gourd of mate is more a pretext for discussion than just the consumption of a drink. It is the Argentinean "cuppa tea"! Note finally that the most popular brand of mate grass in the north is called ... "Amanda!"

  • And finally, of course.... Argentinean meat! Especially the beef, tender, juicy, no hormones, and at a ridiculously low price... Here the normal way to cook meat is "asado": on the grill! For example, all campsites provide little barbecues with charcoal grills... Needless to say we were delighted! However, we do not understand the Argentineans: they have excellent meat here, but they always serve it over-cooked! They cringe when they see our steaks "à point" (rare)... They do not appreciate good eating!
    Besides Asado, we have also tasted meat "milanesa" style a result of the strong Italian influence! It is a thin slice of beef rolled in delicious spices, and then breaded. Not bad at all, particularly when covered with tomato sauce, cheese and ham, a bit like a pizza! The pizzas, by the way, can be found everywhere and Italian caterers abound, offering fresh pasta, quiches, lasagnes, and ready prepared sauces... Good-bye to our fruity regime of Peru! But who would dare to complain?...
    .

The worst moments

In Argentina, we have been pampered, showered, fed, and even our bikes were treated to a careful refurbishment.... So it is difficult to list worst moments, especially after Bolivia!

Nevertheless we will not forget our misadventures with the Argentine bus!

The best moments

  • Our return to asphalt: euphoric!
  • The ultra-efficient lift offered by Ruth and Pablo.
  • Our small celebration in a restaurant and the unforgettable grill.
  • The welcome of our hosts in Jujuy and the generosity of the "neighbour".
  • The moments spent with Michel and Lief.
  • Benjamin's hospitality in Tucuman.
  • The warm family atmosphere of the "Casa de ciclistas" in Salta.
  • The beautiful scenery of the Quebrada de Cafayate in the Argentinean Lake District.
Aaah, Argentina, the cyclists paradise!