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28/3/2014 Buenos Aires, AR to La Estanzuela, UR
Camping
D56, T4, Av13.62Max41, Tot 56, 25560
26° fine and humid
Well after almost six and a bit weeks spent with friends and family in New Zealand, time spent in Temuco Chile with Gustavo and Ingrid, and ten days in Buenos Aires with my oldest son Ben, we had not seen each other for 15 months, though we did not do a great deal, it was special time together.
I have to say for me, life is now back to normal.
During my break, a fierce little throat cold was contracted in NZ, it accompanied me back to Temuco and onto BA. It is so nice now to be back in perfect working order, all be it a bit unfit.
Ben and I were awake about 0500 as I had to catch the 0830 Buquebus ferry to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay.
It was a fast 1hr trip for about $65 to the coastal town in Uruguay.
After having spent so much time in cities, a decision was made not to visit Montevideo. The need to be north for dry season was also a consideration.
This city can keep for one day when I am traveling on a different budget, one that may allow me in the company of others to enjoy all a city has to offer. My present budget falls well short of these activities, you know good food, a few shows and the like.
My present budget is geared towards long term meandering.
After having spent this time in NZ and Buenos Aires, it is no wonder people continually wake up every morning and go to work to get money to propel their almost uncontrollable lifestyles along. Lifestyles in reality, controlled by the multi nationals, where they get their food from, buy their petrol from, communicate through and manage their money with.
Along with other companies that control the vices, that for many, help numb this existence.
These few entities that have no other purpose than to appease the greed of their management and share holders, are for most people, the initiators of the treadmill that they will revolve for life.
Whilst in Buenos Aires I could not help but notice the multitude of people that were not middle class, but a class not so poor, but just in between somewhere. People that sometimes more often than not struggle on the treadmill.
Possibly, for the wealthy in this country, it is just where they want the masses. The thought of having to share their spoils is unimaginable.
It was really sad to see so many people like this. The working poor so to speak.
I feel many people in NZ and Australia, also share this plight, one can easily be fooled by the facade.
In NZ, a beer was costing $9 a glass. Great boutique beer, I might add. However, what a slap in the face for most people. For example, someone on $30 an hour (good pay by many standards) goes to work for someone and a whole hour of their life given to someone else is only worth 3 beers and a mouthful!!
With the number of people on the planet, there are enough people with the excess money to comfortably afford these prices, so in that respect, places offering beer at these prices will survive.
No wonder the treadmill is crowded. Many people have and will continue to run out of breath, as it inevitably speeds up.
For many, if beer and other spirits were not alcoholic and able to dowse a bit of reality, you wouldn’t buy them in a pink fit. This and the price of coca cola truly make petrol look like they are giving it away. ( coke, $3.90 for 350ml, $11.13/litre!!)
Coffee too, is in many ways over rated and definitely overpriced.
The Argentinos and Uruguayanos have it sorted with their mate. They drink it everywhere, all you need is the Yerba, a mate, a bombilla and a thermos for hot water. Most tiendas sell boiling water. It is so much more social and not restricted to establishments that need to charge ridiculous prices just to justify their existence.
So that said, even though the beer was ridiculously costly, all of it was consumed around friends and family, a good time was had.
Really that’s how it all works I guess.
So here I am this morning, sitting on my little three legged chair in Uruguay. I am in a rural school and camped the night under an awning of one of the two buildings in the grounds. At a different end of the spectrum, so to speak. An end shared by few people my age.
Again, I am relatively free from the treadmill, such is life for me now. I saw just how fast money disappears visiting restaurants and bars. Along with these pastimes, the mill really cranks up a gear.
Not so oddly enough, it is what life is all about for most people. It’s the funny stuff, the laughs and good company that make it all bearable.
The elevated view looking northeast from my vantage point, takes me across flat land of pasture and scattered shelter trees.
Right now, I can’t think of a better place to be.
Leaving the ferry at Colonia yesterday, I headed into town and bumped into a guy who had worked in NZ on dairy farms and had bought a pushbike and the gear for touring.
We got on well and had lunch together. Eduardo then helped me get the best deal for data only on my new purchase for this trip.
People had said how friendly Uruguanos are.
I have purchased, a smart phone, it remains to be seen how it changes the dynamics of this kind of travel.
Sometimes being unavailable is a luxury not many are able to afford.
Though, I will go onto say I bought one in NZ on Trade me, it was a fake and I had given the guy $600 in cash. The Samsung S4, bought was an excellent copy, it fooled me in the evening when the guy bought it to my folks house.
This I didn’t need. I phoned him the next day and said, I wasn’t happy with the phone, careful not to mention it was fake.
In a gesture, totally to my surprise, he bought the money back around, in return for the phone. I couldn’t help but applaud him for his good will.
Anyway as my operational skills improve on the device, I hope to post a few pics on Instagram under the username browsinabout
You may wish to check them out occasionally.
Leaving town, it was great to have the wind in my face again with no particular place to go.
Just a grand plan and challenge to try and reach Venezuela via the Trans Amazon Highway to Belem at the mouth of the Amazon, and then by boat to Suriname and the Guyanas onto Caracas.
Some money was retrieved from an ATM, at the rate of about 22 pesos for a dollar.
It was so nice to have a uniform rate for changing money. Unlike, in Argentina where the wealthy have no confidence in their own currency and have money changers on the streets who will give you 11 or 12 pesos for a $US, whereas in the banks you only get 7 or 8 pesos.
These people then ship the money from their country or hoard it in the event of a peso collapse.
This is such a sad situation for a country so rich in natural resources and fertile lands.
So there you have it, some my thoughts on life away from cycle touring. Fresh from being immersed in it for a few weeks. It is so damn good not being totally committed to the treadmill and outside the circle for some more time.
I know the treadmill will always be there on my return, it will really be a case of how much I will want to commit myself to its monotony, only time will tell ,one guesses. Its forces are insurmountable in many aspects.
My funds won’t last forever, either.
Just out of town, a visit was made to the Plaza De Toros, a grand old bullfighting ring built in the early 1900’s by the Spanish. It was able to hold 8000 spectators, it was quite some structure.
One could imagine all the blood and foam spilt in the now grassed arena, this coupled with the manic roar of all those people witnessing such a spectacle.
Uruguay, so far radiates such a laid back tranquil feel about it.
Though, out of condition, it was sheer riding pleasure on the quiet road in the balmy conditions with light winds.
About 30 km from town, a side road to the coast was taken. The road surface was crushed limestone. The terrain was for the most part flat, it was a delight to be rural riding. The surrounding land use was mostly Soya beans and maize. Cattle and dairying also occupied some properties.
Terrain was flat and easy going. All along these back roads people were asked for directions, many of the roads were not marked on my maps or on Google maps.
Eucalypts dominate the treescape here.
The humidity took me back to the riding days on the Mississippi, it was comfortable, though the need to keep the water intact up was ever present.
After Patagonia, the comfort offered by the warmth made life easy.
My rear wheel was not quite true again and was just touching a break pad, this was put up with for the day, not wanting to unpack things to tweak this on the roadside.
Whilst, in BA, it was noticed to be slightly sloppy at the hub. A decision was made to buy a spare hub in the event that it should become further worn. Genuine Shimano ball bearings were also bought in NZ. The carrying of heavy loads above the rear wheel had seen the bearings replaced twice.
The bike shop I bought these parts at is a genuine Shimano repair centre, they had a good supply of parts. The address is Canglia Bicicletas Cordoba 3489, Almago.
This would be my last real opportunity to buy such a part.
It is good insurance against this failing somewhere isolated. It will be good practice building a wheel from scratch.
Also renewed for this trip was the power Grip pedals, the bearings were worn. A new cassette was added and the front crank cogs were all replaced.
Two new Schwable, Mondial folding tyres were also bought, one was put on the rear whilst the Dureme was moved to the front rim.
After some time and no sight of the coast, a gravel road was taken back to the highway near Paso de la Horqueta.
Being my first day on the road for awhile, the time for a campsite had arisen.
At about 1700 a school was spotted to my right. Upon inspection, a good spot beneath an awning of one of the buildings was chosen to set up camp.
Over a coffee, the rear wheel was trued and the brakes adjusted.
Life camping is going to be different in my one man MSR Hubba. It is like a coffin with a pitched roof. It offers great benefits with its lack of weight. Some 3kg lighter than the Hilleberg Tara.
Reading an interview about a guy that rode the Trans Amazon, his first piece of advice was to travel light, hence my decision to abandon the Tarra.
Though it served Callum and I everso comfortably in Patagonia last year.
I was worn out, and very relaxed, and looking forward to pasta, tuna and sauce after a couple of hot chocolates.
There was a dog living here at the school, he was a friendly character who enjoyed some pasta with me and made sure the tuna can was clean and the sauce packet was spotless as well.
The evening sky was clear, it was comforting to peruse the stars and just dwell on things once the Southern Cross had been located. My hot chocolate added to this comfort.
Sitting on the well head in the school yard, spellbound by all above, thoughts of the road ahead with its many awaiting experiences and the unknown, was a fitting way to end the day.
Uruguay and the ambience about it only enhanced this state.
It was great to climb into my humble abode harbouring that lovely worn out feeling.My sleeping bag is a tropical edition, it more than sufficed in keeping me warm in the 22° plus temp at 2100 after my tent was entered.
29/3/2014, La Estanzuela to Playa de la Agraciada
Camping
D86, T5, Av16.68 Max41, Tot 142, 25,646
26° fine and humid, light northerlies
Up at first light, though this is not that early. Sunrise in these parts is at 0700 and sets at about 0700. Short days compared to Patagonia.
Give me the warmth and short days anytime.
The dog had slept near the tent all night, he was up to welcome the day, looking for more food, I might add. He really was hungry. My guess was that he hung around for the kids spare food, but did it tough on the weekends.
It was going to be another hot day, it was already warm.
Once away about 0930, again, the road was easy rolling undulations, it made for good riding, offering a free wheel at regular intervals.
Lots of wildlife have been encountered, unfortunately much of it flush with the road. Animals include, dogs, cats,snakes, armidillos, birds, possums and other small rodent type animals.
With the presence of so many Eucalypts, parrots abound, and can be heard squawking in large groups within the canopies of these trees.
Again the landscape is all under crop with silos jutting above all at regular intervals.
The amount of harvesters and other equipment associated with grain growing was parked everywhere. Each farm passed had a shed or parking area littered with the often late model machinery.
I bought bread, onions and tomatoes at Conchillas. My routine was slowly starting to fall into place again.
By now, the heat of the day was setting in.
Incidentally, my starting weight for this journey is just a tad under 70kg.
At least 6kg of this needs to go, to be back in shape. As the heat and humidity increase moving north, this may well be achieved.
Arriving at the entrance to Carmelo, a great shady passage was made through a stand of Plane trees on both sides of the road.
A left turn was taken down to the local beach, the riverside areas a called beaches.
Here under the shade of a Willow tree, salami, tomato and onion encased in fresh bread rolls was enjoyed.
The river Uruguay is still very large at this point. There were sandy areas, though much of the riparian area was reeds and mud. The locals said it was ok to swim.
Arriving at Nueva Palmira, a relax was had on the foreshores.
The heat was taking it out of me.
Around 1600, a turnoff to Playa de la Agraciada was taken in the hope of camping there the night.
Time was spent chatting with the lady and her son in the tienda on the highway at the intersection.
Almost all countries here are now teaching English in the schools. The young boys’ school was no exception.
Arriving at the shores of the river, the camp area was inspected. A swim was enjoyed in the comfortable brown river water.
It was infact a good chance for a wash.
Few people were about. There was a large camp area on the foreshores, it was heavily treed in gums. There were concrete tables and chairs with power and water, just perfect.
They owner kindly let me camp for no fee.
Not feeling hungry just soup and carnita were enjoyed.
The evening sky and associated sunset were superb, all shades of orange were displayed.
My camp was set up under some gums, that carried only small amounts of dead wood.
These trees pose an ever present danger from falling limbs. They suffer from a phenomenon known as sudden branch failure, where live limbs are shed .
Campers have been killed and seriously injured in Australia whilst camped under this species of tree.
It is a natural instinct to camp under shade on a hot summers day. It always pays to inspect the safety of that shade before your tent is pitched.
The trees I was under, posed an acceptable risk.
My phone and computer were charged, the balmy night was wound up over a herbal tea listening to music. It had been a tiring day in the heat.
With the gentle topography, 70 to 80 km in a day is easily attainable here without being in a hurry.
30/3/2014, Playa de la Agraciada to Mercedes, UY
D84, T5, Av16.05, Max42, Tot 226, 25,730
Hotel
Light northerlies, wet all day, some heavy rain
Sub tropical conditions
Last night was an affair that involved little sleep. The sky at dusk had been a sight to behold, absolutely lovely colours as the sun set over Argentina on the far side of the river.
All the locals had been complaining about how hot yesterday was. Me too, for that matter.
Anyway come 0130, a front hit my camp. It was a classic type of Mid North coast southerly buster. A heap of blustery hot wind then cold wind followed by rain.
My little old tent got a hammering.
Though, of most concern were the many Eucalypts around my tent. I had checked them as the tent was pitched.
The deadwood present was only light.
However, in 40 knot winds, even a small piece could render my tent uselss.
I hurredly got up and moved all the gear out to another camp table.
In the meantime, the windblown rain had arrived.
I stripped down just to my raincoat and a bare bum, probably visible to the people in the bar across the car park.
It was a mad rush, everything was getting wet.
Finally, once all was placed in the tent and the tiny vestibule. It was time to crawl back into this little shelter.
The trees were now at a safe distance.
Being a bit damp was of little concern, tiredness saw to that.
It continued to pour all night. The little Hubba kept me as dry as a bone, some consolation as I was already wet before climbing in.
From 0200 till daylight a state of light sleep existed. Come daylight, the showers eased. Knowing this weather pattern, it was time to move.
Often in these climes, there is a cessation in the rain early in the morning before it again settles in for the day.
A move was made, a coffee brewed, porridge, honey and raisins devoured.
My airbed was soaked on the lower side, everything was damp. It was a case of just packing as best as possible so as not to imbibe anything dry with moisture from things already wet.
The tent went on last, it was probably a kilo heavier with water.
Of all my cycling here in the Americas, never has so much equipment been wet and damp at the beginning of a day.
In this respect, luck has been with me. I remember many nights where, though it was raining, I was either in a hostal or under some shelter.
My attire for the day was an Ice Breaker tee, Keen sandals, Ice Breaker boxers, Patagonia shorts and my marmot minimalist Goretex coat with cyling gloes.
On my head was my peak hat and neck warmer.
All of it wet.
No sooner than I headed off, as guessed, the rain set in again.
It was 6km back to the highway.
The temperature was a welcome come down from yesterday. Infact it was so refreshing to be bathed in the warm rain.
Riding was good, once on the highway I settled into a cruisy pace and just marveled at all the water running down the road and drains alongside.
After 3 days riding here in Uruguay, observations lead me to describe it as one big farm of soya beans, maize and sorghum. The topography is gently rolling and almost every tree of significance is a good old Aussie Eucalyptus. Parrots abound, so do dead snakes on the road.
It is harvest time here, most bean and maize crops are browning off.
The horizon in many places is dominated by huge silo complexes. Grain trucks are everywhere on the road.
We all wave at each other, these gestures are always comforting , a few cars give me a welcome honk.
Though behind all that glass and metal, many people are probably saying, “Look at that poor bugger”
Little do they know of the pleasure radiating from the totally drenched rider.
The roadside is littered with grain, a lot like Moree in NSW where cotton on the roadside signifies the dominant rural activity in the area.
Today my small front cog was hardly used, just after 3 days my strength is returning and the last little remnants of phlegm from the cold have been purged.
Here in Uruguay coke can only be bought in 1 litre glass bottles. So, a litre is being drunk, which is easy in the heat.
I believe that when exercising strenuously for long periods this stuff gives a good sugar hit and cleanses the gut with its acidic properties, that's my excuse anyway.
A litre disappears pretty quick in these mild humid temps.
Riding on, a huge feedlot announced its presence, long before it was visible.
What a sight, hundreds of cattle just standing looking at me. They were in a huge paddock of nothing but black mud and presumably shit.
It was weird to see the animals just standing motionless. Neither could they sit down or chew grass, they were facing me and looked so bored. What a pitiful existence, just waiting for their next meal of a cocktail of who knows what just to add bulk to their bodies.
A huge silo complex dominated the skyline through the almost visible acrid stink from the enterprise. It was nice to put this sight behind me.
It is not a good idea to think about how these animals exist when chewing on a great steak.
One could only wish they really are dumb, if not, every animal surely would be in a state of depression with a life like that.
Nearing Delores my energy was running very short , the lack of sleep and a hurried breakfast were combining to sap my reserves, some damp bread was chewed enroute just to keep me going.
The big Petrobras station at the entrance to Delores was a welcome sight.
Once in town I asked for the best restaurant with meat. I had forgotten about the black, shitty paddock!!
People directed me to the El Retorno, highly recommended.
Here my wet shirt was changed. It was so damn good to be under shelter with food at hand.
Off course a big bottle of coke literally cascaded into my stomach.
This was accompanied by to pork chops, salad, chips, bread and a fruit salad.
It cost about $17. Uruguay is quite expensive by Sth American standards.
At the 3 or 4 border crossings into AR across the river. Many people live in AR because it is cheaper and come to work in UY to attain higher wages.
A decision is yet to be made as to where the crossing to AR will be made.
Reluctantly I left the restaurant, though an Instagram post was made, depicting my little banquet.
Using this social medium is becoming quite enjoyable. This is the first time I have used a phone on the trip. Skype serves all my needs both local and international.
The camera on the Samsung struggles with light on occasions so now and again shots are transferred from the Canon.
The real time provided by this toy is great.
Though its presence can be a distraction.
It was still pouring as the road to Mercedes was found. I put some music on and really enjoyed my renewed energy just relishing in the whole scene.
It truly was so good to be cruising along again, with freedom in the air.
Having waterproof headphones, favorite music was awash in my head, great stuff, life is so good.
It was an easy 30 km to Mercedes, arriving about 1600, it was decided to be very choosy about accommodation . Having so much wet gear, the establishment had to offer good drying conditions and a big room.
The first place fell short of these needs.
After about an hour of checking out the town and asking around. The Hotel Marin was occupied.
At 600 pesos for a night this was up there with US prices.
The woman gave me some discount, as the internet was infact not working.
Everything was so wet, water had even made it into my front panniers through the connection points of the outside pockets, my map holder was wet inside.
Luckily the map of Uruguay and Paraguay is plastic, not so the others to follow. This issue will need to be rectified .
The tent was taken up to the roof to dry in the now breaking sky. The breeze up there helped enormously. A pedestal fan was obtained , a line was strung up in the bathroom and the desiccation of many of my belongings had begun.
For me a hot shower followed by a shave sufficed.
Cold chicken and salad was bought at the supermarket.
Today had been a great test in wet, trying conditions. I think a few more days like this may be on the cards, looking at the weather patterns here.
The gentle hum of the fan sent me to a peaceful oblivion.
31/3/2014 Mercedes to San Javier
Camping
D92, T5, Av19.61, Max45, T 318, 25784
Fine, light northerlies, 25°
The day was one of clear blue skies, arising coffee was made in the room using the resistencia, great things they are.
Once packed the owner let me leave my bike inside the courtyard, as things had to be done in town. Things like buying bread, tomatoes and onions for lunch.
Life is very laid back here in Uruguay. Many people are wandering around with their flasks and drinking mate from their mates, it is almost more common a sight here than in AR.
The plant is also grown here in Uruguay. It was great riding in the sun again, my runners were tied onto the front panniers to dry in the air movement around them.
The river Negro was crossed just out of town.
Most rivers encountered so far are a dark colour, a colour that would cause one to hesitate taking water from them, even using a filter.
The intensive agriculture and cropping, probably does not do these water courses any favours, the soil type could also possible add to the colour.
Leaving the main road, Ruta 24 was taken, this was a track with dirt and wet areas in the low spots, for a secondary road it was very basic. Though some 15km it did improve and become concrete.
My body is still adjusting to these warm temperatures, up till now my water intake has not been enough I feel .
There have been times when I just rapidly run out of energy.
Such a time arose today about 1400, it just came upon me. Luckily on the right some few km on from the occurrence, a gate was open into a Eucalypt plantation.
Here hot chocolate, bread rolls, salami, onion and tomatoes were enjoyed.
Each meal taken now, a few cloves of garlic are added.
This is being done in the hope that the mosquitoes will find my blood a little less enjoyable. The garlic here is very strong so hopefully it will have some effect on their desires to extract my blood.
Leaving here and heading north, 50km had been covered with no tiendas about, my water was almost gone.
Luckily some guys were working on the road. They gave me a heap of deliciously cold water, such a luxury.
At about 1430 the turnoff to San Javier was spotted. This town is on the river.
Many articles about cycling and travel in UY say there is little to see, this I agree with, however the enjoyment is the same as ever. As said, yesterday, the gentle undulations just keep on keeping on as do the soya bean crops.
I was told that much of the crop goes to China and Korea. Many crops appeared relatively poor, compared to many seen in the states where the plants were waist high.
Maybe the soils are better up there or maybe they just use more chemicals and fertilizer.
These riding conditions, if one was in a hurry would allow for hundred plus km days every day.
The gentle climbs are easy going and there is always a relaxed free wheel down attaining speeds around 35-40km.
Once in San Javier about 1830, a drink was enjoyed at a local tienda chatting, they locals said there was a campsite on the river banks.
Time was spent talking with people fishing of the concrete wharf, the woman was using maize for bait.
Soon after I headed to the campground on the foreshores, here there was a welcoming party of mosquitoes.
My neck warmer keeps them off my head and socks go part way to protecting my ankles. I do not want to use sprays. With long pants on it is not so bad.
My tent is so small any within can be eliminated from its confines very easily.
Fried potatoes ware enjoyed, laced with ample chilli and garlic.
The Rio Uruguay forms the border with Argentina, which was only a couple of hundred metres wide to the west of my campsite.
Fisherman, in small dinghies were heading back upstream to the town shores.
I was told they were not commercial but more artesanos.
The night time temperature is quite mild probably about 17°. The small tent is still taking time to get used to. I have been putting a couple of panniers at my feet.
Unfortunately, after a few nights I am finding more room is needed to fully stretch put and allow for a bit of movement during the night.
Hopefully all my equipment except for the bar bag can be stored in the small vestibule area. I am pleased to find the little tent very weather proof.
Having commenced riding today at about 1100, 90 kms was clocked up very easily, such are the riding conditions here, though a light breeze from the north is present most of the time.
1/4/2014 San Javier to Paysandu
Hotel Concordia
D54, T3, 4.5, Av 16.51, Max 45, 372, 25,876
Overcast, mild, light northerlies
I must say, last nights sleep was pretty ordinary, there were people about, it got a bit cool and the need to have a pee arose twice.
So upon arising this lack of sleep was felt.
I took my time packing, so as to let the condensation dry on the tent.
It is so easy to erect and dismantle in these respects it is great.
Another couple of nights should see me get it all organised. It is taking a bit of time to get used to not being able to have a choice of some classic spread eagle type of sleeping positions.
A bracket that was made for the front rack had failed so this was replaced. More need to be made up at an engineering shop sooner or later. Maybe in AR.
Bread was bought on the way from town.
As expected my energy levels were almost zero after 20km. Pulling over by a dark brown creek.
Four bread rolls with sardines, red onion, tomatoes and garlic were devoured. A full pot of water was enjoyed mate, for me this stuff is better than coffee during the day.
Whilst enjoying the bread rolls, one of my molars let me know of its presence.
Another filling had failed. The pain very present.
A visit to a dentist is on the cards again.
Getting to Paysandu, some 30km on. Some time was taken to find a hotel. I recommend the Concordia in the middle of town on calle 18 de Julio.
At 500 pesos a night it is good value and ground level rooms.
A dentist was found, he had a look and is going to do the required work in the morning, his first question was did I want it pulled out. It appears pulling teeth is a first choice for some people here.
To date the need for dental work has arisen in every country over the last couple of years. Dental work here in South America is very affordable. So far, all the work I have had done has been very good.
This is the first time the internet has been available since climbing off the ferry at Colonia del Sacramento five days ago.
A huge chicken salad was enjoyed at a locals only haunt.
The room has a ceiling fan so a bit of washing was done, knowing it will dry fairly rapidly.
Deirdre had this article sent to her by a friend and forwarded it to me. It can be found on the inside of Leon Cohens album, “Songs from the Road”
Leon Wieseltier, literary editor of The New Republic, wrote an essay for the CD jacket cover. An ode to Cohen’s poetic largess and nomadic spirit, “The Art of Wandering” suggests that “itinerancy refreshes and expands the spirit”, (as does Cohen’s music). I like that.
It’s as good an explanation as any for why my life has always been on the move, changing its cloak when things get too stale or staid. ( not my words, but an apt description of my life also)
The road is not a line between places; it is a place between places, a place of its own. You cannot understand the ravishments of the road unless you overcome the logistical way of looking at things, which is perhaps the most powerful impediment that our hustling way of life puts in the way of experience. Since we cling to a mainly instrumental view of the road, we have forgotten how to be travellers and we are tourists instead, sitting still before the window and watching the world speed past, when in fact we are the ones who are speeding and it is the world that is still, for those who possess the capacity for stillness. We are too enamoured of destinations. We hunger too much for arrival. We treat the road as an interval between meanings, an interregnum between dispensations, and so we are blinded to the richness of meanings and dispensations in the road itself. If departure is the past and arrival is the future, then the road is the present, and there is nothing more spiritually difficult, or spiritually rewarding, than learning to live significantly in the present. This is accomplished by a schooling in transience, and the road is such a school. Almost as powerfully as the sea and the sky, the road is an emblem of immensity: the horizon into which it disappears is the promise of a release, which is the promise of a horizon, which is the promise of a release. From the stretch of even the most ordinary road, you may infer a suggestion of infinity.
Perhaps this is why singers and preachers have often preferred to wander: itinerancy refreshes and expands the spirit. By means of the unfamiliar, it makes complacence harder (though the cult of the road also has its conventions). The wanderer is the figure who recognizes the gift of alienation. The stranger may be powerless, but he has the force of a fresh eye and an unexpected mind: the inner advantage belongs to him. He knows no stasis. It is of course for sustenance that the singer and the preacher roam from town to town, but not only for material sustenance. The gig is an opportunity to gain distance (which is a gain) and to observe more; to do it differently and better; maybe even to get it right. In some of his songs about wandering, Schubert insisted upon the lucky break of homelessness: "Everything seems clear; nothing is distorted, or withered in the heat of day. Happy in my surroundings, if alone, I go." "There, where you are not, there is happiness." The wanderer may be weary, but so is the man plumply at home, the stationary man, the undiversified man, the solvent man, the man who lives in the illusion that he knows all he needs to know and sees all he needs to see.
Camping
D56, T4, Av13.62Max41, Tot 56, 25560
26° fine and humid
Well after almost six and a bit weeks spent with friends and family in New Zealand, time spent in Temuco Chile with Gustavo and Ingrid, and ten days in Buenos Aires with my oldest son Ben, we had not seen each other for 15 months, though we did not do a great deal, it was special time together.
I have to say for me, life is now back to normal.
During my break, a fierce little throat cold was contracted in NZ, it accompanied me back to Temuco and onto BA. It is so nice now to be back in perfect working order, all be it a bit unfit.
Ben and I were awake about 0500 as I had to catch the 0830 Buquebus ferry to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay.
It was a fast 1hr trip for about $65 to the coastal town in Uruguay.
After having spent so much time in cities, a decision was made not to visit Montevideo. The need to be north for dry season was also a consideration.
This city can keep for one day when I am traveling on a different budget, one that may allow me in the company of others to enjoy all a city has to offer. My present budget falls well short of these activities, you know good food, a few shows and the like.
My present budget is geared towards long term meandering.
After having spent this time in NZ and Buenos Aires, it is no wonder people continually wake up every morning and go to work to get money to propel their almost uncontrollable lifestyles along. Lifestyles in reality, controlled by the multi nationals, where they get their food from, buy their petrol from, communicate through and manage their money with.
Along with other companies that control the vices, that for many, help numb this existence.
These few entities that have no other purpose than to appease the greed of their management and share holders, are for most people, the initiators of the treadmill that they will revolve for life.
Whilst in Buenos Aires I could not help but notice the multitude of people that were not middle class, but a class not so poor, but just in between somewhere. People that sometimes more often than not struggle on the treadmill.
Possibly, for the wealthy in this country, it is just where they want the masses. The thought of having to share their spoils is unimaginable.
It was really sad to see so many people like this. The working poor so to speak.
I feel many people in NZ and Australia, also share this plight, one can easily be fooled by the facade.
In NZ, a beer was costing $9 a glass. Great boutique beer, I might add. However, what a slap in the face for most people. For example, someone on $30 an hour (good pay by many standards) goes to work for someone and a whole hour of their life given to someone else is only worth 3 beers and a mouthful!!
With the number of people on the planet, there are enough people with the excess money to comfortably afford these prices, so in that respect, places offering beer at these prices will survive.
No wonder the treadmill is crowded. Many people have and will continue to run out of breath, as it inevitably speeds up.
For many, if beer and other spirits were not alcoholic and able to dowse a bit of reality, you wouldn’t buy them in a pink fit. This and the price of coca cola truly make petrol look like they are giving it away. ( coke, $3.90 for 350ml, $11.13/litre!!)
Coffee too, is in many ways over rated and definitely overpriced.
The Argentinos and Uruguayanos have it sorted with their mate. They drink it everywhere, all you need is the Yerba, a mate, a bombilla and a thermos for hot water. Most tiendas sell boiling water. It is so much more social and not restricted to establishments that need to charge ridiculous prices just to justify their existence.
So that said, even though the beer was ridiculously costly, all of it was consumed around friends and family, a good time was had.
Really that’s how it all works I guess.
So here I am this morning, sitting on my little three legged chair in Uruguay. I am in a rural school and camped the night under an awning of one of the two buildings in the grounds. At a different end of the spectrum, so to speak. An end shared by few people my age.
Again, I am relatively free from the treadmill, such is life for me now. I saw just how fast money disappears visiting restaurants and bars. Along with these pastimes, the mill really cranks up a gear.
Not so oddly enough, it is what life is all about for most people. It’s the funny stuff, the laughs and good company that make it all bearable.
The elevated view looking northeast from my vantage point, takes me across flat land of pasture and scattered shelter trees.
Right now, I can’t think of a better place to be.
Leaving the ferry at Colonia yesterday, I headed into town and bumped into a guy who had worked in NZ on dairy farms and had bought a pushbike and the gear for touring.
We got on well and had lunch together. Eduardo then helped me get the best deal for data only on my new purchase for this trip.
People had said how friendly Uruguanos are.
I have purchased, a smart phone, it remains to be seen how it changes the dynamics of this kind of travel.
Sometimes being unavailable is a luxury not many are able to afford.
Though, I will go onto say I bought one in NZ on Trade me, it was a fake and I had given the guy $600 in cash. The Samsung S4, bought was an excellent copy, it fooled me in the evening when the guy bought it to my folks house.
This I didn’t need. I phoned him the next day and said, I wasn’t happy with the phone, careful not to mention it was fake.
In a gesture, totally to my surprise, he bought the money back around, in return for the phone. I couldn’t help but applaud him for his good will.
Anyway as my operational skills improve on the device, I hope to post a few pics on Instagram under the username browsinabout
You may wish to check them out occasionally.
Leaving town, it was great to have the wind in my face again with no particular place to go.
Just a grand plan and challenge to try and reach Venezuela via the Trans Amazon Highway to Belem at the mouth of the Amazon, and then by boat to Suriname and the Guyanas onto Caracas.
Some money was retrieved from an ATM, at the rate of about 22 pesos for a dollar.
It was so nice to have a uniform rate for changing money. Unlike, in Argentina where the wealthy have no confidence in their own currency and have money changers on the streets who will give you 11 or 12 pesos for a $US, whereas in the banks you only get 7 or 8 pesos.
These people then ship the money from their country or hoard it in the event of a peso collapse.
This is such a sad situation for a country so rich in natural resources and fertile lands.
So there you have it, some my thoughts on life away from cycle touring. Fresh from being immersed in it for a few weeks. It is so damn good not being totally committed to the treadmill and outside the circle for some more time.
I know the treadmill will always be there on my return, it will really be a case of how much I will want to commit myself to its monotony, only time will tell ,one guesses. Its forces are insurmountable in many aspects.
My funds won’t last forever, either.
Just out of town, a visit was made to the Plaza De Toros, a grand old bullfighting ring built in the early 1900’s by the Spanish. It was able to hold 8000 spectators, it was quite some structure.
One could imagine all the blood and foam spilt in the now grassed arena, this coupled with the manic roar of all those people witnessing such a spectacle.
Uruguay, so far radiates such a laid back tranquil feel about it.
Though, out of condition, it was sheer riding pleasure on the quiet road in the balmy conditions with light winds.
About 30 km from town, a side road to the coast was taken. The road surface was crushed limestone. The terrain was for the most part flat, it was a delight to be rural riding. The surrounding land use was mostly Soya beans and maize. Cattle and dairying also occupied some properties.
Terrain was flat and easy going. All along these back roads people were asked for directions, many of the roads were not marked on my maps or on Google maps.
Eucalypts dominate the treescape here.
The humidity took me back to the riding days on the Mississippi, it was comfortable, though the need to keep the water intact up was ever present.
After Patagonia, the comfort offered by the warmth made life easy.
My rear wheel was not quite true again and was just touching a break pad, this was put up with for the day, not wanting to unpack things to tweak this on the roadside.
Whilst, in BA, it was noticed to be slightly sloppy at the hub. A decision was made to buy a spare hub in the event that it should become further worn. Genuine Shimano ball bearings were also bought in NZ. The carrying of heavy loads above the rear wheel had seen the bearings replaced twice.
The bike shop I bought these parts at is a genuine Shimano repair centre, they had a good supply of parts. The address is Canglia Bicicletas Cordoba 3489, Almago.
This would be my last real opportunity to buy such a part.
It is good insurance against this failing somewhere isolated. It will be good practice building a wheel from scratch.
Also renewed for this trip was the power Grip pedals, the bearings were worn. A new cassette was added and the front crank cogs were all replaced.
Two new Schwable, Mondial folding tyres were also bought, one was put on the rear whilst the Dureme was moved to the front rim.
After some time and no sight of the coast, a gravel road was taken back to the highway near Paso de la Horqueta.
Being my first day on the road for awhile, the time for a campsite had arisen.
At about 1700 a school was spotted to my right. Upon inspection, a good spot beneath an awning of one of the buildings was chosen to set up camp.
Over a coffee, the rear wheel was trued and the brakes adjusted.
Life camping is going to be different in my one man MSR Hubba. It is like a coffin with a pitched roof. It offers great benefits with its lack of weight. Some 3kg lighter than the Hilleberg Tara.
Reading an interview about a guy that rode the Trans Amazon, his first piece of advice was to travel light, hence my decision to abandon the Tarra.
Though it served Callum and I everso comfortably in Patagonia last year.
I was worn out, and very relaxed, and looking forward to pasta, tuna and sauce after a couple of hot chocolates.
There was a dog living here at the school, he was a friendly character who enjoyed some pasta with me and made sure the tuna can was clean and the sauce packet was spotless as well.
The evening sky was clear, it was comforting to peruse the stars and just dwell on things once the Southern Cross had been located. My hot chocolate added to this comfort.
Sitting on the well head in the school yard, spellbound by all above, thoughts of the road ahead with its many awaiting experiences and the unknown, was a fitting way to end the day.
Uruguay and the ambience about it only enhanced this state.
It was great to climb into my humble abode harbouring that lovely worn out feeling.My sleeping bag is a tropical edition, it more than sufficed in keeping me warm in the 22° plus temp at 2100 after my tent was entered.
29/3/2014, La Estanzuela to Playa de la Agraciada
Camping
D86, T5, Av16.68 Max41, Tot 142, 25,646
26° fine and humid, light northerlies
Up at first light, though this is not that early. Sunrise in these parts is at 0700 and sets at about 0700. Short days compared to Patagonia.
Give me the warmth and short days anytime.
The dog had slept near the tent all night, he was up to welcome the day, looking for more food, I might add. He really was hungry. My guess was that he hung around for the kids spare food, but did it tough on the weekends.
It was going to be another hot day, it was already warm.
Once away about 0930, again, the road was easy rolling undulations, it made for good riding, offering a free wheel at regular intervals.
Lots of wildlife have been encountered, unfortunately much of it flush with the road. Animals include, dogs, cats,snakes, armidillos, birds, possums and other small rodent type animals.
With the presence of so many Eucalypts, parrots abound, and can be heard squawking in large groups within the canopies of these trees.
Again the landscape is all under crop with silos jutting above all at regular intervals.
The amount of harvesters and other equipment associated with grain growing was parked everywhere. Each farm passed had a shed or parking area littered with the often late model machinery.
I bought bread, onions and tomatoes at Conchillas. My routine was slowly starting to fall into place again.
By now, the heat of the day was setting in.
Incidentally, my starting weight for this journey is just a tad under 70kg.
At least 6kg of this needs to go, to be back in shape. As the heat and humidity increase moving north, this may well be achieved.
Arriving at the entrance to Carmelo, a great shady passage was made through a stand of Plane trees on both sides of the road.
A left turn was taken down to the local beach, the riverside areas a called beaches.
Here under the shade of a Willow tree, salami, tomato and onion encased in fresh bread rolls was enjoyed.
The river Uruguay is still very large at this point. There were sandy areas, though much of the riparian area was reeds and mud. The locals said it was ok to swim.
Arriving at Nueva Palmira, a relax was had on the foreshores.
The heat was taking it out of me.
Around 1600, a turnoff to Playa de la Agraciada was taken in the hope of camping there the night.
Time was spent chatting with the lady and her son in the tienda on the highway at the intersection.
Almost all countries here are now teaching English in the schools. The young boys’ school was no exception.
Arriving at the shores of the river, the camp area was inspected. A swim was enjoyed in the comfortable brown river water.
It was infact a good chance for a wash.
Few people were about. There was a large camp area on the foreshores, it was heavily treed in gums. There were concrete tables and chairs with power and water, just perfect.
They owner kindly let me camp for no fee.
Not feeling hungry just soup and carnita were enjoyed.
The evening sky and associated sunset were superb, all shades of orange were displayed.
My camp was set up under some gums, that carried only small amounts of dead wood.
These trees pose an ever present danger from falling limbs. They suffer from a phenomenon known as sudden branch failure, where live limbs are shed .
Campers have been killed and seriously injured in Australia whilst camped under this species of tree.
It is a natural instinct to camp under shade on a hot summers day. It always pays to inspect the safety of that shade before your tent is pitched.
The trees I was under, posed an acceptable risk.
My phone and computer were charged, the balmy night was wound up over a herbal tea listening to music. It had been a tiring day in the heat.
With the gentle topography, 70 to 80 km in a day is easily attainable here without being in a hurry.
30/3/2014, Playa de la Agraciada to Mercedes, UY
D84, T5, Av16.05, Max42, Tot 226, 25,730
Hotel
Light northerlies, wet all day, some heavy rain
Sub tropical conditions
Last night was an affair that involved little sleep. The sky at dusk had been a sight to behold, absolutely lovely colours as the sun set over Argentina on the far side of the river.
All the locals had been complaining about how hot yesterday was. Me too, for that matter.
Anyway come 0130, a front hit my camp. It was a classic type of Mid North coast southerly buster. A heap of blustery hot wind then cold wind followed by rain.
My little old tent got a hammering.
Though, of most concern were the many Eucalypts around my tent. I had checked them as the tent was pitched.
The deadwood present was only light.
However, in 40 knot winds, even a small piece could render my tent uselss.
I hurredly got up and moved all the gear out to another camp table.
In the meantime, the windblown rain had arrived.
I stripped down just to my raincoat and a bare bum, probably visible to the people in the bar across the car park.
It was a mad rush, everything was getting wet.
Finally, once all was placed in the tent and the tiny vestibule. It was time to crawl back into this little shelter.
The trees were now at a safe distance.
Being a bit damp was of little concern, tiredness saw to that.
It continued to pour all night. The little Hubba kept me as dry as a bone, some consolation as I was already wet before climbing in.
From 0200 till daylight a state of light sleep existed. Come daylight, the showers eased. Knowing this weather pattern, it was time to move.
Often in these climes, there is a cessation in the rain early in the morning before it again settles in for the day.
A move was made, a coffee brewed, porridge, honey and raisins devoured.
My airbed was soaked on the lower side, everything was damp. It was a case of just packing as best as possible so as not to imbibe anything dry with moisture from things already wet.
The tent went on last, it was probably a kilo heavier with water.
Of all my cycling here in the Americas, never has so much equipment been wet and damp at the beginning of a day.
In this respect, luck has been with me. I remember many nights where, though it was raining, I was either in a hostal or under some shelter.
My attire for the day was an Ice Breaker tee, Keen sandals, Ice Breaker boxers, Patagonia shorts and my marmot minimalist Goretex coat with cyling gloes.
On my head was my peak hat and neck warmer.
All of it wet.
No sooner than I headed off, as guessed, the rain set in again.
It was 6km back to the highway.
The temperature was a welcome come down from yesterday. Infact it was so refreshing to be bathed in the warm rain.
Riding was good, once on the highway I settled into a cruisy pace and just marveled at all the water running down the road and drains alongside.
After 3 days riding here in Uruguay, observations lead me to describe it as one big farm of soya beans, maize and sorghum. The topography is gently rolling and almost every tree of significance is a good old Aussie Eucalyptus. Parrots abound, so do dead snakes on the road.
It is harvest time here, most bean and maize crops are browning off.
The horizon in many places is dominated by huge silo complexes. Grain trucks are everywhere on the road.
We all wave at each other, these gestures are always comforting , a few cars give me a welcome honk.
Though behind all that glass and metal, many people are probably saying, “Look at that poor bugger”
Little do they know of the pleasure radiating from the totally drenched rider.
The roadside is littered with grain, a lot like Moree in NSW where cotton on the roadside signifies the dominant rural activity in the area.
Today my small front cog was hardly used, just after 3 days my strength is returning and the last little remnants of phlegm from the cold have been purged.
Here in Uruguay coke can only be bought in 1 litre glass bottles. So, a litre is being drunk, which is easy in the heat.
I believe that when exercising strenuously for long periods this stuff gives a good sugar hit and cleanses the gut with its acidic properties, that's my excuse anyway.
A litre disappears pretty quick in these mild humid temps.
Riding on, a huge feedlot announced its presence, long before it was visible.
What a sight, hundreds of cattle just standing looking at me. They were in a huge paddock of nothing but black mud and presumably shit.
It was weird to see the animals just standing motionless. Neither could they sit down or chew grass, they were facing me and looked so bored. What a pitiful existence, just waiting for their next meal of a cocktail of who knows what just to add bulk to their bodies.
A huge silo complex dominated the skyline through the almost visible acrid stink from the enterprise. It was nice to put this sight behind me.
It is not a good idea to think about how these animals exist when chewing on a great steak.
One could only wish they really are dumb, if not, every animal surely would be in a state of depression with a life like that.
Nearing Delores my energy was running very short , the lack of sleep and a hurried breakfast were combining to sap my reserves, some damp bread was chewed enroute just to keep me going.
The big Petrobras station at the entrance to Delores was a welcome sight.
Once in town I asked for the best restaurant with meat. I had forgotten about the black, shitty paddock!!
People directed me to the El Retorno, highly recommended.
Here my wet shirt was changed. It was so damn good to be under shelter with food at hand.
Off course a big bottle of coke literally cascaded into my stomach.
This was accompanied by to pork chops, salad, chips, bread and a fruit salad.
It cost about $17. Uruguay is quite expensive by Sth American standards.
At the 3 or 4 border crossings into AR across the river. Many people live in AR because it is cheaper and come to work in UY to attain higher wages.
A decision is yet to be made as to where the crossing to AR will be made.
Reluctantly I left the restaurant, though an Instagram post was made, depicting my little banquet.
Using this social medium is becoming quite enjoyable. This is the first time I have used a phone on the trip. Skype serves all my needs both local and international.
The camera on the Samsung struggles with light on occasions so now and again shots are transferred from the Canon.
The real time provided by this toy is great.
Though its presence can be a distraction.
It was still pouring as the road to Mercedes was found. I put some music on and really enjoyed my renewed energy just relishing in the whole scene.
It truly was so good to be cruising along again, with freedom in the air.
Having waterproof headphones, favorite music was awash in my head, great stuff, life is so good.
It was an easy 30 km to Mercedes, arriving about 1600, it was decided to be very choosy about accommodation . Having so much wet gear, the establishment had to offer good drying conditions and a big room.
The first place fell short of these needs.
After about an hour of checking out the town and asking around. The Hotel Marin was occupied.
At 600 pesos for a night this was up there with US prices.
The woman gave me some discount, as the internet was infact not working.
Everything was so wet, water had even made it into my front panniers through the connection points of the outside pockets, my map holder was wet inside.
Luckily the map of Uruguay and Paraguay is plastic, not so the others to follow. This issue will need to be rectified .
The tent was taken up to the roof to dry in the now breaking sky. The breeze up there helped enormously. A pedestal fan was obtained , a line was strung up in the bathroom and the desiccation of many of my belongings had begun.
For me a hot shower followed by a shave sufficed.
Cold chicken and salad was bought at the supermarket.
Today had been a great test in wet, trying conditions. I think a few more days like this may be on the cards, looking at the weather patterns here.
The gentle hum of the fan sent me to a peaceful oblivion.
31/3/2014 Mercedes to San Javier
Camping
D92, T5, Av19.61, Max45, T 318, 25784
Fine, light northerlies, 25°
The day was one of clear blue skies, arising coffee was made in the room using the resistencia, great things they are.
Once packed the owner let me leave my bike inside the courtyard, as things had to be done in town. Things like buying bread, tomatoes and onions for lunch.
Life is very laid back here in Uruguay. Many people are wandering around with their flasks and drinking mate from their mates, it is almost more common a sight here than in AR.
The plant is also grown here in Uruguay. It was great riding in the sun again, my runners were tied onto the front panniers to dry in the air movement around them.
The river Negro was crossed just out of town.
Most rivers encountered so far are a dark colour, a colour that would cause one to hesitate taking water from them, even using a filter.
The intensive agriculture and cropping, probably does not do these water courses any favours, the soil type could also possible add to the colour.
Leaving the main road, Ruta 24 was taken, this was a track with dirt and wet areas in the low spots, for a secondary road it was very basic. Though some 15km it did improve and become concrete.
My body is still adjusting to these warm temperatures, up till now my water intake has not been enough I feel .
There have been times when I just rapidly run out of energy.
Such a time arose today about 1400, it just came upon me. Luckily on the right some few km on from the occurrence, a gate was open into a Eucalypt plantation.
Here hot chocolate, bread rolls, salami, onion and tomatoes were enjoyed.
Each meal taken now, a few cloves of garlic are added.
This is being done in the hope that the mosquitoes will find my blood a little less enjoyable. The garlic here is very strong so hopefully it will have some effect on their desires to extract my blood.
Leaving here and heading north, 50km had been covered with no tiendas about, my water was almost gone.
Luckily some guys were working on the road. They gave me a heap of deliciously cold water, such a luxury.
At about 1430 the turnoff to San Javier was spotted. This town is on the river.
Many articles about cycling and travel in UY say there is little to see, this I agree with, however the enjoyment is the same as ever. As said, yesterday, the gentle undulations just keep on keeping on as do the soya bean crops.
I was told that much of the crop goes to China and Korea. Many crops appeared relatively poor, compared to many seen in the states where the plants were waist high.
Maybe the soils are better up there or maybe they just use more chemicals and fertilizer.
These riding conditions, if one was in a hurry would allow for hundred plus km days every day.
The gentle climbs are easy going and there is always a relaxed free wheel down attaining speeds around 35-40km.
Once in San Javier about 1830, a drink was enjoyed at a local tienda chatting, they locals said there was a campsite on the river banks.
Time was spent talking with people fishing of the concrete wharf, the woman was using maize for bait.
Soon after I headed to the campground on the foreshores, here there was a welcoming party of mosquitoes.
My neck warmer keeps them off my head and socks go part way to protecting my ankles. I do not want to use sprays. With long pants on it is not so bad.
My tent is so small any within can be eliminated from its confines very easily.
Fried potatoes ware enjoyed, laced with ample chilli and garlic.
The Rio Uruguay forms the border with Argentina, which was only a couple of hundred metres wide to the west of my campsite.
Fisherman, in small dinghies were heading back upstream to the town shores.
I was told they were not commercial but more artesanos.
The night time temperature is quite mild probably about 17°. The small tent is still taking time to get used to. I have been putting a couple of panniers at my feet.
Unfortunately, after a few nights I am finding more room is needed to fully stretch put and allow for a bit of movement during the night.
Hopefully all my equipment except for the bar bag can be stored in the small vestibule area. I am pleased to find the little tent very weather proof.
Having commenced riding today at about 1100, 90 kms was clocked up very easily, such are the riding conditions here, though a light breeze from the north is present most of the time.
1/4/2014 San Javier to Paysandu
Hotel Concordia
D54, T3, 4.5, Av 16.51, Max 45, 372, 25,876
Overcast, mild, light northerlies
I must say, last nights sleep was pretty ordinary, there were people about, it got a bit cool and the need to have a pee arose twice.
So upon arising this lack of sleep was felt.
I took my time packing, so as to let the condensation dry on the tent.
It is so easy to erect and dismantle in these respects it is great.
Another couple of nights should see me get it all organised. It is taking a bit of time to get used to not being able to have a choice of some classic spread eagle type of sleeping positions.
A bracket that was made for the front rack had failed so this was replaced. More need to be made up at an engineering shop sooner or later. Maybe in AR.
Bread was bought on the way from town.
As expected my energy levels were almost zero after 20km. Pulling over by a dark brown creek.
Four bread rolls with sardines, red onion, tomatoes and garlic were devoured. A full pot of water was enjoyed mate, for me this stuff is better than coffee during the day.
Whilst enjoying the bread rolls, one of my molars let me know of its presence.
Another filling had failed. The pain very present.
A visit to a dentist is on the cards again.
Getting to Paysandu, some 30km on. Some time was taken to find a hotel. I recommend the Concordia in the middle of town on calle 18 de Julio.
At 500 pesos a night it is good value and ground level rooms.
A dentist was found, he had a look and is going to do the required work in the morning, his first question was did I want it pulled out. It appears pulling teeth is a first choice for some people here.
To date the need for dental work has arisen in every country over the last couple of years. Dental work here in South America is very affordable. So far, all the work I have had done has been very good.
This is the first time the internet has been available since climbing off the ferry at Colonia del Sacramento five days ago.
A huge chicken salad was enjoyed at a locals only haunt.
The room has a ceiling fan so a bit of washing was done, knowing it will dry fairly rapidly.
Deirdre had this article sent to her by a friend and forwarded it to me. It can be found on the inside of Leon Cohens album, “Songs from the Road”
Leon Wieseltier, literary editor of The New Republic, wrote an essay for the CD jacket cover. An ode to Cohen’s poetic largess and nomadic spirit, “The Art of Wandering” suggests that “itinerancy refreshes and expands the spirit”, (as does Cohen’s music). I like that.
It’s as good an explanation as any for why my life has always been on the move, changing its cloak when things get too stale or staid. ( not my words, but an apt description of my life also)
The road is not a line between places; it is a place between places, a place of its own. You cannot understand the ravishments of the road unless you overcome the logistical way of looking at things, which is perhaps the most powerful impediment that our hustling way of life puts in the way of experience. Since we cling to a mainly instrumental view of the road, we have forgotten how to be travellers and we are tourists instead, sitting still before the window and watching the world speed past, when in fact we are the ones who are speeding and it is the world that is still, for those who possess the capacity for stillness. We are too enamoured of destinations. We hunger too much for arrival. We treat the road as an interval between meanings, an interregnum between dispensations, and so we are blinded to the richness of meanings and dispensations in the road itself. If departure is the past and arrival is the future, then the road is the present, and there is nothing more spiritually difficult, or spiritually rewarding, than learning to live significantly in the present. This is accomplished by a schooling in transience, and the road is such a school. Almost as powerfully as the sea and the sky, the road is an emblem of immensity: the horizon into which it disappears is the promise of a release, which is the promise of a horizon, which is the promise of a release. From the stretch of even the most ordinary road, you may infer a suggestion of infinity.
Perhaps this is why singers and preachers have often preferred to wander: itinerancy refreshes and expands the spirit. By means of the unfamiliar, it makes complacence harder (though the cult of the road also has its conventions). The wanderer is the figure who recognizes the gift of alienation. The stranger may be powerless, but he has the force of a fresh eye and an unexpected mind: the inner advantage belongs to him. He knows no stasis. It is of course for sustenance that the singer and the preacher roam from town to town, but not only for material sustenance. The gig is an opportunity to gain distance (which is a gain) and to observe more; to do it differently and better; maybe even to get it right. In some of his songs about wandering, Schubert insisted upon the lucky break of homelessness: "Everything seems clear; nothing is distorted, or withered in the heat of day. Happy in my surroundings, if alone, I go." "There, where you are not, there is happiness." The wanderer may be weary, but so is the man plumply at home, the stationary man, the undiversified man, the solvent man, the man who lives in the illusion that he knows all he needs to know and sees all he needs to see.
