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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.
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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"...
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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.
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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.
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