The road to Cuiaba` - Part I

With a final plate of lentils under my belt, a freshly baked loaf of bread under my arm and a warm farewell and mutual thankyou with Ghila, I road away from Lago Puelo three days ago. The past few weeks have been a rewarding experience and one I've learnt a lot from. I'm now comfortably on the road to Cuiaba` where Australia meets Chile in their, or our, first match of the World Cup finals in 16 days time. I'm travelling some 4,600km's in a north east direction to the Mato Grosso region of Brazil as I've just secured tickets to Australia's three group games and a chance to spend time with my cousins Rob, Steve, Laura, their partners and my Uncle John amongst other friends and later on, Luca and Amy. Some familiar faces and party atmosphere await. 

Suprisingly, there hasn't been too much hype in the past few weeks around here, a lot of Argentinians I speak to are either indifferent or hold reserved expectations. The last few days on the road however, when chatting to someone at the traffic lights or a gas station attendant who ask me where I'm heading, I now say I'm heading to Brazil for 'el mundial' which gets a smile and the excitement is starting to build. From many years ago, I knew if I was ever to get to a World Cup in my lifetime, Brazil would be the one, perhaps the most football nation of them all and renown for putting on a party, where else would I want to be heading right now?

So here I am with a new purpose and enthusiasm to my riding, knowing in the back of my mind that the end of these endless numbered days is nigh and a great opportunity is approaching to celebrate a global culture coming together. From my recent reading, we don't stand much of a chance to impress and should be lucky to salvage a point from some observers, however I'm hopeful that if the inexperienced squad finds that resoluteness from a generation ago, we should do just fine and keep some pride intact. Here's to an optimistic view and trust in the current coach. 

                 No end to La Pampa from above

I spent my first day back on the road battling the winds and farewelling the snowy mountains which disappeared when arriving in the wine, apple and dinosaur roaming province of Neuquen. I stopped to camp above a lake, hoping I would be escaping the cold shortly. Yesterday I crossed into La Pampa region and the quintessential Argentinian outback of fertile plains and vast open spaces. As the sun was setting I was miles from anywhere, a sign indicated a town 100km's away with a symbol for gas and camping so I decided to ride through the darkness to rest there for the night. I arrived at what was barely a town, Lihue Calel doesn't even show itself on my map, there was petrol, and a sign saying Restaurant and Motel. Nothing else. In I went to get away from the chill and didn't leave for several hours. As soon as I approached the fire to warm my hands I got chatting to a friendly man, Roberto and his partner from the closest city and before I knew it we were sharing bottles of beer and I was convinced to order the roasted beef, they wouldn't let me pass through La Pampa without trying its prized beef. We got chatting about the usual topics, where I'd been, what I thought of particular places, people, dangers, dismissing stereotypes, life in Australia and advice on where i was heading, east of the Rio Parana. The owner joined in the chat before Roberto insisted he pay for my meal and drinks before leaving with plans to meet again and I continued the chat with a table of cattle farmers who had all the economic questions for me and ideas on farming kangaroos here. I finished the night camping by the lonesome tree and climbed the hill this morning to get a better view of the endless landscape around me.

 

Today I rode for a short few hours in a straight line with the sun in my face to the crossroads town of Santa Rosa. It's great to be back on the road.          

   

Slow living in Lago Puelo

  

 

 

I've been living slow in Lago Puelo for the past few weeks. I was put in contact with Ghila, an Italian woman who lives here on her four hectare Chakra with her two young children and I've come to volunteer and wander around the property. There's snowy mountains surrounding us, streams and a river to the rear and whole lot of dogs, cats, chickens and a horse named Moro.

The place is ran as a guesthouse, holding workshops 'for a better world' as the sign by the main road has it, in meditation and yoga with live music during the summer when the place comes alive. There's a new age sense to the place with Ghila's attitude, the furnishings, music, and activities. It's very much low season at the moment and will continue to be until the winter's end but there's still been a slow stream of travellers passing through who I've spent many laughs with over dinner, even cooking for a late arrival of six guests one evening on short notice.  

 

 

I'm sleeping in my favourite of the mud houses and given an open kitchen to use in exchange for physical and repair work needing attention around the place. Fresh chicken eggs have never tasted so good and with a house of vegans I get them all to myself. It's very relaxing with so much beauty around and it makes me content to get my hands working, whether its mud, washing clothes or kneading dough for bread or pasta.

 

Today I'm taking a rest to take a slow walk out to the nearby lake but other days I'm making an earth mix and plastering mud on to one of the huts to improve it's thermal properties, I'm painting on top of it with a lime and clay based mixture. Then there's fences and roofs to fix, attending to the compost, searching for eggs and cooking something simple for myself. I'm sleeping in and working with the sun, life is peaceful. 

 

    

I went out with a guest to the nearby pine forests to forage for pine mushrooms but all we could find were 'slippery jack's' which aren't worth the effort of cooking, too bland.

  

 

 

  

 

This is my little project, mud plastering Diego and Agostina's place. I first whisk flour and water then add it to sieved clay, sieved sand, topsoil and a handful of straw. It's a joy to work with as long as the sun is shining on my back. Even more so as Diego and Agostina are a very nice couple, Agostina feeds me jam from the wild fruits growing nearby and Diego has a real talent with the guitar, enough to keep me working once the sun goes down on an unforgettable evening.

 

Plastering Diego and Agostina's hut to the back of the property.

 

When Jeronimo arrived at the Chakra he was keen to hike up to Cerro Lindo, one of the tougher treks so I joined him to get out of the farm gates and into the wilderness for a couple of days. Sixto took us as far as the road would allow before we began the tough, steep hike but a great time of the year to be doing it.

 

 

Chilling out with Jeronimo and Raul at the refuge, talking shit away from the chilly weather. Raul is surely the coolest refuge lodger I've met, a real Argentine dude, full of chat and laughter. Being the only two guests, we put our food together and cook over the wood stove for two nights, someone's fetching firewood while the others are rolling cigarettes or pouring mate` in the shared cup. A touching mountain experience with two great guys.

 

 

 

 

A not so happy moment. Two days quickly became three when we took Raul's loose Argentinian style instructions on the second day to get to the waterfalls. The further into the valley we hiked, believing we could follow the mountain around and back to the refuge, the deeper we went and lost all sense of bearing so we had to follow our steps instinctively to arrive back by dark with appetites like lions and head back the following day.

 

 

 

One of the highest lakes in the area, ready for a long approaching winter

 

 

Clouds in the valley over El Bolson with fresh sun above



North, south and through the lake districts ......

I'm on highway 5 from this point, sitting on cruise control on this straight and uninspiring stretch but it gets me moving quickly and effortlessly after the tiring riding and rainy days of the week gone. I'm away from the gusty winds and the stray dogs appearing from everywhere when I have food on my lap. I'm missing that Patagonian feeling from here on, that humble sense of life, the fireplaces, the isolation, the use of recycled materials, those foggiest of mornings, the lakes, the list goes on ..... 

There's not much going on in Osorno when I stop on a Saturday, just some friendly folk in a bookshop, more mediocre Chilean food and a cheap bed in a dilapidated building beneath a loud family. Before setting off the following day I get in contact with Monica, an aunty of Gilda's, those that have known me long enough may remember Gilda, who kindly put me in contact with family of hers here and before I knew it I was given a warm welcome and offered a fantastic home cooked cordero, roasted lamb over a Sunday afternoon fire. I spent the following few days here in Temuco with a place to stay in Maury and Natacha's home, just a short stroll from the centre of town and their little cafe. I took time away from riding, just wandering around the city which I hadn't done in a long while, hanging out and getting to know Maury, while witnessing the middle class Chilean lifestyle. They were a warm and welcoming family and provided an entertaining time. My next stop was off the highway in the port city of Concepcion, where I spent an evening with Jamie Rodrigo, an avid motorcyclist and the friendliest of gentlemen who took me out for dinner and a tour of the city, devasted by an earthquake a few years ago before insisting I take his spare riding jacket for the journey ahead.

I decide to continue north from here, towards Santiago for some new tyres and a couple other parts from the Triumph dealership and a chance to catch up with Ian who had now taken a rest from riding and settled into an apartment in the Chilean capital. I get my bike stuff organised and spend the next four days hanging out with Ian at his apartment, watching sitcom reruns, walking the streets and a heavy night out with some locals and Ballarat Lauren I'd met in Ushuaia. Five days of concrete jungle living was enough to get me back on the road. I decided from here I would head back for the Argentine Patagonia and find some voluntary farm work where I could stop again and take in the air before the long journey across to Brazil for the football World Cup in June. 

I traced my steps of the previous week, covering a massive 850km's to reach the lakes district town of Pucon after dark, to spend a few days of sunshine in a hostel and taking in a half day secluded waterfall hike before crossing back to Argentina. The petrol in Argentina is nearly half the price of Chile so I took a gamble when crossing with little left in the tank, expecting there to be a town and petrol station at the frontier which is usually the case. This small crossing was within a national park however with a stunning volcano on the border. The immigration officer told me the next gas was 70km away. I couldn't convince any one of the customs officials to give me some petrol, everyone seemes to be running on 'diesel' and there was no hose around, as was the case with the army and national park officials further on. So I had no choice but to sit and wait for some help, asking each car that passed until a kind North American offered me the litre of fuel he had for his cooking stove in back of his car. The litre saves me and gets me off the gravel and back on to Ruta 40 towards more lakes and quaint towns. 

     
Arriving in Junin de los Andes - more autumn camping with a soft, leafy mattress and those ibiquitous Argentinian grills to myself until the dogs arrive. More fishing here in the country's capital of trout fishing still brings no luck. I'm happy to be back in Argentina, now the country I've spent the most time in, it's always a pleasure to meet the old men, curious and relaxed and the young guys, polite and friendly. The week's highlight is riding la ruta de los siete lagos, the seven lakes road from Villa de Angostura to Bariloche. It's the imaginable curvy, mainly paved road which hugs the shorelines of several lakes and travels high above them. With afternoon sun then clouds ready to burst there's a lot of views to take in on a satisfying day. 
  

 

 

My favourite of the lakes

For all its hype Bariloche disappoints, just a tourist trap sitting on the least picturesque of the area's lakes. I quickly get out, make a Sunday afternoon stop in Colonia Suiza and the village market and treat myself to an all you can eat pit barbeque cooked over stones and covered for a couple of hours. I'm seated with a BA family and a jolly old man who entertain me along with the folklore music for the afternoon.

 

 

 

On arriving in El Bolson, the so-called hippy capital of Argentina, with it's artisan markets, microbreweries, abundance of wild sweet fruits and ideal location tucked within the valley of towering hills, I was hoping to find some work on one of the trout farms near town but all three said they weren't so busy so I hung out with Lucas while waiting for some replies to other farms. We were both camping at the local brewery. The old fella, Juan Carlos owned the brewery and suggested if we made fresh pasta (with rolling pin) he would provide prawns for the sauce and the wheat beer for our last meal together. Happy days.