Northland Boy on Tour

Big City

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 21:02:00 +0000

At long last, I made it to Buenos Aires, the biggest, and last city for me in South America. I'm staying in an apartment, which is making a very pleasant change. The price is quite reasonable, and I get my own space, my own kitchen, cable TV, aircon. It's an older place, so it's nothing fancy, but it is very well located. Comes complete with the clunking lift with manually operated folding grill doors. The sort you could stick your hand through when it's moving. I still haven't gotten used to the sickening lurch every time it starts moving.

Having my own place, I've been taking it easy, doing a bit of wandering around, but not too much in the way of museums, etc. The city isn't the best for walking anyway, footpaths are generally crowded, narrow, and in poor condition. Plus I find it just depressing crossing 15+ lanes of traffic to get to the other side of the road. The other day I was trying to get to the Post Office, and I could see the building, but it took me a long time to get there. To cross the enormous roads, and chaotic intersections, I had to move away from my target, circle around, and finally approach it from an oblique angle.

When I got to the Post Office, the next difficulty was how to get in. Lots of fences, cars, but not many doors. Found a door, a small crowded room with lots of hot, stressed looking people. Not quite sure what they were doing. Just didn't look right though for sending a package overseas. Let's try door number two: Hmmm, everyone sitting on rows of seats, facing forward, with a blank, bored look. Not sure what's going on here either, although I see someone get up in response to some unseen signal, and go through a turnstile at the end of the room. Hmmm, try door number 3. Aha! This looks more like it, only a handful of people, and an unmanned Customs desk. I meet an Australian couple, also looking to post stuff. When the Customs official turns up, they get a grilling about the items they want to send. They speak no Spanish, but Customs official speaks English. I chat a bit with him in Spanish, he just takes a half-assed look at my stuff, doesn't even want to open the bags, just says sure, it's fine, don't worry about it. A bit later on, everything's boxed and shipped. Bloody expensive though, only service is airmail, costs me around NZD$200 for 6kg. But that's 6kg less for me to carry.

I spent a day over around the Palermo area, a bit fancier part of town. It's a bit strange, it's very high density living, but it's hard to see why so many people want to live there. Perhaps it's because there's more parks than most of the city, although still not enough greenery. I wandered through one of the parks, where people were sunbathing in bikinis, in a small park overlooking a busy intersection. Portenos are strange. There was also plenty of evidence of leathery skin, jutting collarbones and shoulder blades, and ribs you could play the piano. All the things that come from severe poverty, or in this case, from decades of being a trophy wife. Lower and middle class people are overweight, sometimes you need to be very rich or very poor to be severely skinny.

There's an interesting method used by the hawkers on the subway. They walk down a carriage, with a box of whatever they are selling. A sample is placed on everyone's lap, for them to look at, or ignore. Then the seller comes back down the carriage, either retrieving the trinket, or better yet, getting some money for it. The guy selling small lights wasn't doing so well, but the young man selling a bunch of hair ties, targetting women with long hair, was making quite a few sales.

I'm not quite sure what it is with the city though, but I haven't quite gotten into it. Not sure, maybe I was expecting a more interesting place, but so far it just hasn't grabbed me the way that Asian cities do. There's hints of an interesting past, but many of the buildings are a bit anonymous. Not modernist anonymous, a little bit older, but anonymous all the same. I wandered over to Retiro station, where the long distance bus station, train station, and subway converge. This is packed with people, stalls selling random stuff on the street, dodgy standup eating joints, etc. I picked up a very cheap striped bag to put my panniers in on the plane. You see poor people all around the world with these bags, but I've had great trouble tracking one down to buy here. Anyway, I got one, then went into a dirty restaurant, the sort where the seats and table are sticky. No airconditioning here, but the fan tries hard. There are packed seats outside, but it's empty inside. I agree with Peter Robb, better to sit inside, less hassle that way. But as I'm sitting inside, drinking my cheap beer, I'm feeling much happier about the city. Perhaps I just need to try and find my sort of area.

The weather here is like Auckland in February - high twenties, high humidity. I can't give my Scottish readers a comparison time, they just don't get weather like this. Sometimes a touch warm, but very pleasant, and I'm going to struggle when I get to the UK on Friday. Currently it's raining and cold there, it's going to be tough if I try and ride out of Heathrow airport...

I would add some photos here, but unfortunately I'm having a bit of trouble finding an Internet cafe where I can plug in my camera. Will keep trying.

A week of it

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 16:31:00 +0000

I have been in Puerto Madryn for a week now. This marks the longest I have stayed in one place for this trip. Tonight I will be taking an 18 hour bus ride to Buenos Aires, and will be staying there for a week, matching my lag here.

Sometimes you get a bit bored staying in one place for a while, but in other ways it's interesting. You get to know quite a bit more about a place, you don't need a map, you know how the buses work, where to eat, which Internet cafes are reasonable, etc. It helps if you're staying in a reasonable place, and El Gualicho has been pretty good. Staying in a 4-bed dorm, but half the time I was the only one in there. Plenty of other people around though.

You also see the normal activity of a town, its ebbs and flows. You see many, many police walking about Argentina, but they are a scruffy lot, often with little to mark them as a policeman. If you put on a plain blue shirt and trousers, with no markings, then as long as you have a baseball cap with "Policia" on it, no-one thinks anything of you walking around with a gun strapped to your hip. Sometimes they wear fluoro vests, sometimes T-shirts. I suspect maybe they all buy their own uniforms from wherever they like, with the bribe monies they extract from the locals. Anyway, it was still somewhat disturbing to see one of them running down the street, loosely holding a pump-action shotgun. Not sure exactly what was going on, but I saw them apprehending someone on a bicycle. A large number of officers and firearms seemed a bit of an overwhelming show of force to arrest a middle-aged man on a bike. Not sure what he did, probably riding on the footpath or something.

There's been plenty of time to do the various tourist things about town, including a trip out to Peninsula Valdes to look at sea lions. We had to stand behind a fence, some way back off the beach. But yesterday, I had a chance to get a lot closer.

Dive operators here offer trips to go diving with sea lions, and I'd signed up for one. We'd put the trip off for a couple of days, because the wind was not being very helpful, and was was stirring up the weed in the bay, dramatically reducing visibility. But we could only put it off for so long, as I have to leave here sooner or later. So on a windless day, at high tide, I went out with Scuba Duba. Carolina driving the boat, Emilia as Divemaster, and just the two customers, myself and Julia, an Open Water diver from Toronto.

Glassy seas, but a bit of groundswell, as we bumped over to Punta Loma, about 30 minutes away. It's not possible to do anything in Argentina without mat�, so of course we had to have some of that on the way over. I should write about it more another time, but for now just understand the Argentines seem to go everywhere clutching their mat� cup and Thermos of hot water.

As soon as we moored, we had small sea lions nosing up against the boat. We geared up, and dropped in. Even at the top of a very high tide, it's only around 6-7m where we were, 50m out from the shore. We're not allowed any closer, and we can't go and annoy the animals, but if we just kneel in one place, they soon come around to check you out.

Obviously the big bulls are happy to sit on the shore sleeping, but the young ones are very keeen to come and check you out. Visibility was very poor - for my Auckland readers, it was similar to Lake Pupuke on a good day - but suddenly this large shape looms up and nibbles your hand. Although they have four limbs, and can walk on all of them (one of the differentiating features between seals and sea lions), they don't really have hands. As such, they use their mouths to investigate things. If you hold out your hand, they will come and gently nibble it, not hurting you. You feel a tug behind you, and think perhaps it's another diver, before realising it's a sea lion investigating your hoses. One took a real shine to Julia's hood, coming back again and again, in spite of being pushed off. For the other divers it is amusing, but it can be a bit disconcerting when you can't see what it is that keeps bumping your head about.

They will swim up and look, move away, come back closer, then away, then come closer still. And then they get bored with you and disappear. So you tug on one of the ropes holding a marker buoy, and they come back to investigate. Good fun. Different sort of dive too, just sitting more or less in one place the whole time. Would have been amazing if the visibility was better - it is normally more like 7m, getting up to 20m - but it was still a good dive. Due to the poor visibility, we didn't take any pictures, but this link should give you an idea of what it was like.

Being geared up, we took the opportunity for another dive, on one of the wrecks in the bay. Visibility was better, but still only 2m, so it was a bit hard to work out what was actually going on with the wreck. It tended to loom up at you rather suddenly.

I think that I may have become a little used to excellent dive briefings from the crew at Global Dive, as I was underwhelmed with the briefing from Scuba Duba. Possibly due to English not being the DM's first language, I don't know. But I shouldn't have to prompt them to do a signal review when you have an Open Water diver on the dive, who has only done 8 dives, and 6 months ago at that. Oh and I think that all Americans should be forced to learn the metric system, so I don't get gauges with PSI. Takes me too long to do the 15 timestable in my head underwater.

So I'm on the overnight bus this evening, just another 18 hours. But I'm travelling cama, the closest to business travel I'll ever get. It's the "express" service too, with only a handful of stops, so I should get a fair bit of sleep. Since I've got a week in Buenos Aires, I've rented an apartment, as the prices are quite reasonable. Hopefully that all works out wellm and by this time tomorrow, I'm happily ensconced.

Con Bicicleta

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 19:16:00 +0000

Andesmar Express finally got sick of my bike cluttering up the office in Rio Gallegos, and got it shipped to Trelew. Their website wasn't offering anything new, but I thought I'd go to the office, and see if anything was happening. Not only did they have a bike, they had two. Small pink ones. Hmmm, might as well join the line, see if anything new has happened. As per usual, the line was not moving. I'm not really sure what some people do when sending/receiving a package, but for some reason it can be an incredibly complicated procedure to send a small box.

Anyway, I was in luck - someone coming back on duty recognised me, and pulled me out of line. "Is this your bike?" They already knew me, so didn't even need to check ID, just got me out of there, very happy to have the bike back in my possession. I still have two weeks to kill in Argentina, and I only wanted to get up to Puerto Madryn, 65km away, but the main thing is that I am now in control of my destiny, I'm not waiting on anyone else.

Straight out of town the next morning, on a road that was far busier than I expected. Unpaved shoulder for the first half, with a very high number of trucks and buses. Not the most fun, but the wind was strong behind me, so the dullness of the scenery didn't get me down. God knows what the Welsh thought when they first came here. From a low hill, you could see the cities of Trelew and Rawson, with a whole lot of nothing around them. I'm happy to ride this leg, but I couldn't keep on going north. Think I'd go mad.

Puerto Madryn is a bit nicer than Trelew, situated next to a wide bay, with a fairly decent beach. Not super hot, but pleasantly warm, getting a little hot if you stay too long in the sunshine. There's wildlife in the area, and diving possibilities. The town is more of a touristy place, with restaurants/shops aimed more at tourists. So I think I'll stop here for a few days, before heading up to Buenos Aires.

Of course, extra tourists brings less welcome things - e.g. the West Africans coming around restaurants, with briefcases of crap to sell. Luckily not the full-on fake handbag scene, but eventually it will get that way. It's an organised industry selling that in Europe, didn't expect to see them here. And of course more tourists means tourists doing stupid things - like the mother I saw putting food on top of her 4 year old�s head, and encouraging the pigeons to eat directly from her, so she can take a photo. Would you let your child be covered in rats? No, I didn't think so.

Check out this photo, taken from my lunch table. This dog is almost the size of Samson. Maybe that's what we should do next time he's filthy and we don't want to put him in the car. Clearly the dog/owner have a fairly trusting relationship. This was only around town, presumably they don't go too fast, or stop too suddenly.

From Puerto Madryn

Bored in Trelew

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 18:22:00 +0000

5 days later, and I'm still here in Trelew, waiting for my bike to turn up. I got all excited yesterday, because their website showed it arriving in Comodoro Rivadavia, only 400km south of here. It then showed it being shipped out 20 minutes later, so I thought it might turn up yesterday evening. I went to the supermarket, did my food shopping for a days ride, started packing up stuff, and headed over to the bus terminal at 20:30. Should have plenty of time for it to arrive.

It's a small office, so you'd think a bike would be obvious, but still, when I had over my claim ticket, the guy still makes a show of looking through the randomly piled up cardboard boxes. NB it clearly says on my form that it's an unboxed bicycle, so it's not like he has to check all the numbers. He even asks around "Hey, have we had a bike turn up recently?" But no, no bike to be seen. Tomorrow maybe. Early, I enquire? No, sometime in the afternoon.

So what went wrong? It was supposed to be in transit, and I'd allowed plenty of time for it to cover the last 400km. I went back and checked the Andesmar website, only to find that after shipping out of Comodoro Rivadavia, it was then listed as shipping out of Rio Gallegos (i.e. the start point) two hours later. How the hell was it supposed to have gone back to the start point, and covered the 800km in only two hours? It's all very strange. Makes me wonder if perhaps they were going to ship it out, and processed it as such, but then couldn't/wouldn't put it on the bus. So perhaps, just perhaps, it did actually ship out the second time, and when I go to the bus station later today, I can pick it up. Well, I can dream.

So what to do in this town? Not a whole lot really, mainly just wander around a bit, sit in a park somewhere, read a bit, people watch. The town is relatively pleasant in the centre, for an Argentinian town - doesn't say much, Argentinian towns are generally pretty crap, not just my opinion either. I can't really work this country out. I go out for lunch today to a food hall kind of place, which should be pretty cheap. But it costs me US$10. OK, so that's developed country prices. But when I look around, it often reminds me of the Middle East. Half-finished buildings everywhere, concrete block construction, with my favourite being the completed ground floor, with half-assed blocks and reinforcing steel sitting on top, for when they get around to doing the next floor. A few paved streets in the centre, but as soon as you get a bit further out it turns to gravel, with various bits of rubble strewn about for good measure. A reasonable number of people walk and ride bikes in this town, but the council seems to actively hate pedestrians. Footpaths are a joke, heights all over the place, random step changes between properties, footpaths randomly ending. There are pedestrian crossings, but cars just plow through pedestrians. Public spaces have obviously had recent work done to them, but it's never completed, just abandoned.

OK, so it's like the Middle East, or parts of Asia - but how do you correlate that with the high prices? Why do they pay developed country prices, for developing country conditions? Must be a legacy of their past - massive corruption, incompetent government, has been going on for centuries, is still going on. That in combination with a bit of a laissez-faire attitude. I've been reading "Myths of Argentine History" and it has some fairly interesting things to say about what was going on up to, and around the time of independence. Unfortunately the translation introduces many errors and typos, and the book can be quite difficult to follow, so I've probably missed a bit. Must seek out some more material to explain why things are the way they are here.

People watching is more interesting. Like watching the overloaded van going down the road. The rear is completely full, and the rear door is tied down - but the rope breaks, and stuff starts spilling out on the road, as the van drives off, driver unaware for 100m or so. The construction crew nearby wander over, pick up some of the stuff, and hold on to it, until the van finally comes back to collect it.

Sitting by another park, I watch a late middle-aged couple out doing some exercise. Due to the afore-mentioned crap footpaths, the only place to walk a reasonable distance without tripping over is the path around the smallish park. It's only perhaps 500m, so as I sit there, they pass by several times, accompanied by their arthritic Alsatian. I can fully appreciate going out for a walk in the morning, but I don't think I could handle doing 20 laps of a small, not very nice, park. I'd get dizzy.

Watching TV in a foreign language is one of my pleasures in life. It's lots of fun trying to work out what's actually going on. I understood what was happening with the flooding in Buenos Aires. But I couldn't work out what the follow-up story was today - people were out banging their pots and pans. Portenos have often used this tactic in the past, to express displeasure at the government, but I'm not quite sure who this was directed at today - were they blaming the local council for not sorting out stormwater systems, or was it actually a weather dance, the reverse of the normal rain dance? Doesn't seem to be much about it on English language news websites unfortunately.

Anyway, I'll try and the bus station later tonight, if that doesn't get anywhere, I'll give it two more days, then go back down to Rio Gallegos by bus, and take my bike myself.

Sin Bicicleta

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 20:15:00 +0000

I have been forcibly separated from my bicycle. According to the website of AndesmarExpress, it's still in Rio Gallegos, 15 hours bus ride south of here. It was supposed to arrive a day after me, but now it will be Monday (two days away) at the earliest. So I'm stuck in Trelew for the next couple of days at least. Oh well, at least it's warm and sunny, and the town is reasonably pleasant.

In Ushuaia, I got up at 4:00am on Thursday morning, loaded up and rolled down to the bus station nice and early, clutching four large pieces of cardboard. The bus crew weren't too impressed by the sight of the bike, but luckily the bus was less than half full, and once I slipped them a few pesos they cheered up and gave me the rear luggage section for the bike. Easy, no boxing required.

It's not that great a distance to Rio Gallegos, but it involves going via Chile, and a 20 minute ferry across the Straits of Magellan. Border crossings are much simpler with the bike. You're often the only one there. But on the bus, it takes longer. Especially the "Paso Integracion Austral", the second crossing back into Argentina. Heaps of cars, trucks and buses. For once, they had combined the Chilean and Argentinian border posts, rather than the usual long gap between them. This saves time, but the building designers are surprisingly clueless, making this take longer than needed - for a start the Chilean customs are on the Argentine side of the building - so you go past Argentine customs, check out of Chile, come back and do Argentine customs, then walk out. Daft. Obviously doesn't work properly coming the other direction either.

Plenty of people getting frustrated too. I saw something that reminded me that age does not always bring wisdom. A grey-bearded Englishman, looking like the sort that would smoke a pipe, was shaking his fist at the customs officer. Rule number 1 of border crossings: "Under no circumstances should you ever, ever allow yourself to show anger. Remain calm at all times." You are at their mercy, do not do anything to piss them off.

Reaching Rio Gallegos after 11.5 hours of travelling, it was cold and drizzly, so I decided to get a bus north that night, rather than staying a night. First bus company wouldn't take the bike, so I didn't tell the second ticket seller. Waited 3 hours, then the bus turned up at 19:45 (for a 20:00 departure), with a big crowd of people around it. This is not looking good. Crew looked at the bike, said nope, we can't take that, then turned away. Shit. What do I do? Throw away the US$65 ticket, and hope for something better tomorrow morning? Have to move fast.

Race back into the terminal, there's a desk that does cargo shipments to other bus terminals around the country. Can you send this to Trelew? Sure, will arrive a day after you do. OK, fine, take it, will cost US$20. Enter my passport details, quick, quick. Take my money, ah no change, no-one ever has change in Argentina. Go get some from another shop, done, no boxing required. Run back out to the bus, jump on, we're off.

Hang on, someone's sitting in my seat. Both of us have tickets with seat number 47 marked on them. Odd. Talk to the attendant, he seems to say "your ticket is for the other coach." It's the right time, the right company, and this bus is going to Trelew (I had checked with several people), but somehow it's not right. Don't worry about it he tells me, sit down, it will be OK.

I'm still a bit nervous as we leave town. There's not many roads around here, so I try and see if he gets on the right road. All seems OK, and luckily there are enough spare seats for me in the cama section. I'd paid an extra 10% for cama, where the seats recline further, and it's a smaller section with fewer people and no kids. Good for those very long journeys, easier to sleep, without costing too much extra.

On the way out of town, we're stopped at the police checkpoint. Normally they just wave you through, or maybe take the passenger manifest, but this time they get on board, and check people's ID against the list. I'm worried about this, because I'm not on that manifest, and someone, either the bus company or me, could get in trouble. But they turn out to only be shaking down the locals, as the police do here. They carefully compare everyone else's ID to the list, but with me they just look at my passport, and hand it back. No check of the manifest.

So I go to sleep, safe in the knowledge that the bus must be going in the right direction for at least another 700km. Things work out well, and it ends up going all the way to Trelew, a Welsh colony, where we arrive 15 hours later.

Hopefully on Monday the bike will have arrived, and I'll be able to leave this town, to head to Puerto Madryn. In the meantime, it's a nice enough place. I'm staying in a very old hotel, which could do with some updating, but it's nice enough, in a faded 1920's glamour kind of way. It's another former Welsh colony, but I will be steering well clear of any dodgy Irish bars this time...

Sun at last

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 20:33:00 +0000

Apparently Ushuaia has two warm sunny days per year, and I've been lucky enough to be here for them. It's not exactly hot, but it is warm and pleasant enough.

Yesterday the weather was superb when I woke up, so I decided to take a boat trip down the Beagle Channel, to Estancia Harberton. Along the way we saw penguins, sea lions, lots of bird life, etc. All with fabulous clear views of the mountain ranges on the Argentinian and Chilean sides of the channel.

Coming back via bus, we went up Garibaldi Pass, which just isn't so interesting when you've driven in a bus. But it was a nice day out, and then on the way back we got to pat huskies. A bit expensive all up, but a good day playing tourist.

Before leaving you with some photos, I'd just like to point out one of the ways in which language can change over time. I've been reading a lot of classic works recently, as I can download them to my iPod Touch for free. Recently I read "The Last of the Mohicans", which contained this passage:

"...permitted glimpses of her dazzling complexion, fair golden hair, and bright blue eyes, to be caught, as she artlessly suffered the morning air to blow aside the green veil which descended low from her beaver."

Obviously the meaning of beaver has changed somewhat...

End of the Road

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 18:43:00 +0000

I was enjoying staying in my nice hotel in Punta Arenas, but I had to move eventually. I turned up nice and early for the ferry to Porvenir, as I hadn't reserved a ticket. I was one of the first ones there, but by the time I boarded just after 8:00, quite a few others were arriving. No extra charge for the bike.

Mine was the first bike to go on, and I was one of the first ones in the cabin. So I was a little surprised when I got off to find 7 other bikes there. I thought there might be one or two, but not that many. There's only a couple of ways onto Tierra del Fuego, and the ferry didn't run the previous day, so perhaps I should have expected it.

In a turnaround to the normal order of things, it's the Chilean part of Tierra del Fuego that is boring grasslands, and the Argentinian part that has mountains, lakes, forests. The first part, crossing from Porvenir heading towards San Sebastian, had very strong tailwinds, and I was making good time, over gravel roads. Almost nowhere to shelter out there though, just a handful of trees. I found a small hut on the side of the road, and sheltered in there. There was a table, a stove, and a set of bunk beds, unfortunately missing mattresses. This gave me good shelter from the wind, and somewhere to cook dinner. Many other cyclists have stopped here too, judging by the graffiti on the walls.

The iron bars weren't going to be very comfortable to sleep on, so I set up the tent next to the hut, getting at least partial shelter from the winds that howled all night. Plus some passing motorist had thoughtfully deposited a turd in the hut, so it wasn't the best place to sleep. It's often the way here - any time you find shelter in this exposed land, it turns out that motorists use it to take a crap. Luckily the tampon left lying on the floor was still in its wrapper.

Crossed the border early the next morning, and back onto the pavement. It's strange having to cross borders here in this small island. If you look at the map, it just doesn't make sense. When I leave Ushuaia, Argentina, going to Rio Gallegos, Argentina, I will need to cross into Chile, adding hours to the trip time. But as soon as you cross the border, you understand why Argentina won't give it up - there's oil here.

Rio Grande next, a surprisingly large town, with two Carrefour and two La Anonima supermarkets. All on the same street of course, not far from each other. Like Asians, Latinos have a different view of competition to that normally seen in the West. I stayed at Club Nautico, where I slept on the floor of the dojo. Was easier and warmer than putting up the tent. Plus of course the wind hadn't stopped, so I would get a better sleep indoors. My MacPac Minaret tent is very strong in the wind, and has been in some extreme conditions, but it still flaps about a bit, making sleep difficult.

On the way to Tolhuin, the boring grassland finally gives way to short trees and hills, and then forests and mountains. This also means you get some relief from the relentless westerlies. You need it, because the road turns south, then west. At Tolhuin, there is a superb bakery, offering everything a hungry cyclist could need. If you want to, you can even stay there for free, because the owner likes cyclists. Not surprisingly, there were 8 other cyclists there when I arrived. I felt like camping though, so went to Camping Hain by the lake, where the wind shelters have evolved into complete coverings for your tent. Nice place.

Sunshine and no wind made such a change. I could just sit in the forest and relax, something I haven't been able to do for some time. I was in no rush to get to Ushuaia, so camped 30km from the city, by a river, enjoying the sunshine.

Didn't last, so the ride into Ushuaia, on a particularly crappy road near the city, wasn't much fun. I stopped for supplies, then headed to Lapataia, the end of Ruta 3. I had bought a bottle of bubbly for celebrations, but it was cold and windy, with a squall coming in, so I retreated to the campsite. I felt I deserved a decent campsite, so paid, rather than taking the free option. It was cold, and I wanted a hot shower...so after checking in the woman tells me the shower is broken, they're useless and they can't be arsed fixing it, and maybe it will be working tomorrow night at 9pm. Cow. Paid 50 pesos to get into the park, then 18 for the campsite, and now there's not even a hot shower?

Rode the 20km back to Ushuaia the following day, this time getting snowed on. In the middle of summer. I have no idea how these people live here. Found a hostel, and soaked for a while in hot hot water. I'm sure the staff were grateful I washed and changed into clean clothes - I hadn't changed my riding shirt for 6 days, and some nights I never took it off, because it was too cold.

It's a bit much of a rich tourist town this one, too many shops selling overpriced crap. Sure, lots of places have English speaking staff, but you pay for it. At least I can get some English books, which I'll need for the next phase of the trip.

I'm going to get a series of buses north, stopping off at various points along the way, to break up the journey. My first leg will be to Rio Gallegos, then perhaps to Comodoro Rivadavia. Went to one bus company, they said no, you can't bring a bike. Try these guys instead. Went there, they said yes, but you need to put it in a box. Crap. Bike boxes are very scarce here, too many cyclists riding in and flying/busing out. Plus if I box the bike, it's a pain to get to the bus station. So my current plan is to ride down to the bus station at 4am (departure 5am), and take a few large pieces of cardboard and a big roll of tape. Then I'll have a chat to the driver, see if it really needs to be boxed, if it does, I'll strap some cardboard around it, tape it up, and hope for the best.

Chung Wah

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 19:32:00 +0000

When I was a child, there was a Chinese takeaway shop just up the road from us. It was a real hole-in-the-wall type of place, a high counter opening to the street, where you placed your order. Run by Cantonese people, it sold both European and Chinese takeaway food. The Chinese food was probably that version that seems to get sold to Westerners, but not within China, but that's by the by.

On a Friday night, we would frequently cook some steak on the BBQ, and get some chips to go with it. All well and good, but I could never understand the quality of the chips that Chung Wah produced. By all appearances, this was a very successful business, and operated there for many years. But the chips were horrible nasty greasy things, soggy and disgusting. I am aware of certain guidelines on how to produce quality potato chips, involving things like temperatures, oil, time, etc., and I'm pretty sure that Chung Wah didn't follow any of them. But people kept going back. After some time I managed to convince the family to frequent Adriatic Fisheries instead, which produced decent chips. I should also note that Chung Wah has now been replaced by "Great Wall Takeaways," which produces a similar line, but in a nicer shop, and they do know how to make good quality chips. A special tip: When ordering chips there, use "Jackson" as the pick-up name for an extra large serving.

Now the reason I bring this up is because by and large, the potato chips (or French fries, or papas fritas) are appalling. Even Chung Wah would be embarrassed by some of them. Chilean food is pretty poor generally - even some Argentinians were complaining to me about it the other day - and chips are fairly prevalent. But they seem to have no idea what decent chips look like. Until here. I'm not sure what it is, probably something to do with the far more mixed heritage of Punta Arenas, but I have either eaten or seen, at at least 6 different establishments, potato chips worthy of the name. True, they aren't "Mr Chips chips, mister," but they are pretty good. If only I could get them to consistently bring me the Aussie Gravy when I do order chips, I would be sorted. My Spanish is sufficient for most restaurant/bar situations though, so it's no big deal.

The ferry from here to Porvenir, Tierra del Fuego, doesn't run on Mondays. So I have had four days off here, not doing a huge amount. Had a broken bolt on the bike, found a bike shop, the helpful owner took me up the road to a engineering shop. No problems, we can sort that. So I pick up the bike an hour later, and as I'm putting the rack back together, I snap another bolt. So I'm back at the machine shop in half an hour, with a wry grin the engineer takes the bike from me again. This time it was a bit trickier, the blowtorch was required, as there was Loc-Tite on the bolt, making it almost impossible to remove without heat. Going to have to get some touch-up paint on that. But it's now sorted, and hopefully that will be the last broken bolt for this trip.

Tomorrow I'll head to Porvenir, weather permitting. A 2.5 hour ferry ride, then a couple of days of gravel road riding, then a few days of tarmac to get to Ushuaia. Almost the end...will have a look at the wind, and decide if Ushuaia will be the end of riding in South America, or if there might just be a bit more. The engineer was telling me about 200km/h winds just a bit further up the coast...

A few photos from around Punta Arenas, taken with the new camera:

Indoors

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 21:33:00 +0000

In a real bed! With a TV! And central heating, no less (excellent for drying clothes). Sheer luxury I tell you, here in Punta Arenas.

Not bad, since I woke up that morning in a gravel pit, by the side of the road, only 3 degrees in the tent. Took a crap in view of northbound trucks (luckily not that many at that time of day). Then rode most of the day in crosswinds, apart from when it started hailing. Rain I can handle, since I was wearing all my rain gear as protection against the wind. But hail stinging a main in the face does wear you down.

Captain Stokes, the first captain of the Beagle killed himself not far from here, writing beforehand:

"In the south...a man's soul dies within him."

Now it didn't all work out badly in the end, because he was replaced by Robert Fitzroy, who would choose a young Charles Darwin to accompany him on his next voyage. And I am certainly not in the same situation as Captain Stokes. But I tell you...if I had to spend years sailing around here, dealing with day after day after day of gales, sleet, hail, snow, rain, well...I could understand his choice of exit. This Thing of Darkness is an outstanding book about the Beagle, I highly recommend it.

I rode down from Puerto Natales in a couple of days, with the winds being more manageable in this direction. I met an American couple who had been on the road five days, and now had 35km (out of 245) left to go. Here's some free advice for would-be bike tourists in Patagonia:

Do some research into the wind! Do not ride north or west, unless you have an astonishingly good reason to.
Get some decent wet weather gear. Yes cold is a problem, but rain is a constant too.
Do not, under any circumstances, take your girlfriend on her first bike tour to Patagonia. Take her to France, or South East Asia, or Switzerland. Nice, easy, non relationship-breaking. I have met several couples where she has given up on the bike, and gone onto the bus. If this is their first experience of bike touring, why would they come back?
Get a decent bike, and test your gear out first. I've seen plenty of bikes broken by the ripio. Mine too, but so far only minor.

So since I'm staying in a nice place, and it's a reasonable town, I've decided to stay a few days. Riding in Patagonia has taken a lot out of me (or maybe I didn't put enough in?) and I need the rest. 3 days off would have been enough, but due to ferry timetables, I will have to take 4 days off. Plenty of shopping around here, and I needed to get a replacement camera. I could get a new GPS - same model as before, or a shiny new touchscreen one - but the prices are too high. Even at the duty free area, the prices for cameras were a little high. Annoyingly, they're also refurbished ones, although you don't find that out until later. Oh well. It's still better than the one I had.

I've also been eyeing up a netbook, as there are so many for sale here. Around $400-$500USD for a reasonable little notebook computer, it's very tempting. But given the weather, the roads, and my propensity to get stuff stolen, I think I'll hold off on that. It can wait until the next trip, when the iPad has taken over the world.

A final note: Google is removing the FTP publishing feature I use for this site, to publish content to northlandboy.com/blog. They want to further assimilate me, and host the blog at blog.northlandboy.com. It's something I could really have done without, especially since they've not given us much notice, and these things are always a pain to sort out on the road. So I'm going to have to look at my options, possibly move to Wordpress. The timing is bad - if it was a month later, I could get it all sorted when I get home, but instead I may have to migrate, then shift again later. Argh. You get what you pay for. Anyways, there will be some changes over the next few weeks - if it all goes well, you shouldn't notice too much difference, although RSS feeds will probably need updating. Will let you know.

Fool me once

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 17:24:00 +0000

I was going to write about the last few days, riding from El Calafate to Puerto Natales. I would have written about the scenery, from mountains to open altiplano, back to valleys, and down to sea level again for the first time in weeks. I would have mentioned the cold - some snow at 500m even - and of course the wind. I would have told you that I enjoyed the open spaces, although admittedly not so much when I was tacking into the wind.

I would have mentioned the dead horses at my campsite - no, beating them didn't help. Plenty of live wildlife though, guanacos, Darwin's rheas, foxes, and oddly enough, sheep and cattle. I would have even posted pictures of some of them.

Long distances, isolated places, these would be mentioned. And then reaching Puerto Natales, where I found Baguales, a micro brewery that has now opened a bar that would not be out of place in Kingsland (or perhaps Leith, for my Scottish readers). They served me excellent beer, and the best hamburger I've seen so far in South America. And then holy of holies, I found peanut butter! One last jar at the supermarket, right at the top at the back of the shelf, where shorter customers couldn't see it. It was from the United States, so luckily it had bold writing on the side, proclaiming: Warning: Contains peanuts. Well I should hope it does.

But...after returning to my campsite from dinner, I saw the front zip partly open. This was unusual, because I generally close the zips fully, as you don't know what the weather will do. As I opened that zip, I saw the inner zip was not closed fully either. I pretty much knew what had happened as I opened the zip. Sure enough, my bag was open, looking rather empty. Empty camera case tossed aside, GPS missing, inner pocket opened, and one of my cash supplies gone, along with memory cards missing.

Sigh. We've been here before.

Could have been better, could have been worse. This time, the passport was stored somewhere else, and not touched. Technical issues in Calafate stopped me copying my photos to another drive. But I have been uploading photos along the way, general in full size, so they're not all lost. There was quite a bit of cash, as I had been carrying extra amounts because I've got a few different currencies. The mobile phone wasn't taken. The GPS hd track logs, waypoints, and full maps, which were very useful...but no more. I still have a copy of those maps, but nowhere to view them. Luckily it's not too much further to go now, and the roads aren't too complicated here, so I should be able to work it all out. The travel journal was left too, and no credit cards were lost (they're distributed with my other money supplies. Strangely, my water and fuel bottles had also been taken.

Well I suppose everyone gets stuff stolen in South America. Just that it's usually in the poorer, rougher countries, not the relatively developed Chile and Argentina.

Just after seeing what had happened, I met Max, an Australian riding down from Alaska to Ushaia. He's staying at the same campsite, but I hadn't seen him earlier in the day when I arrived. A pity I hadn't, because he'd seen someone at my tent around 8:30, when I was out. They were sitting at the door of my tent, wearing a headlamp, and looking like they belonged. Not knowing whose tent it was, Max didn't think it was out of the ordinary.

Interesting sidenote: On a hunch, we checked the rubbish bin out on the street - and there was my fuel and water bottles. Lucky, because getting a replacement fuel bottle isn't easy, and would have rendered my stove useless. So the thief was probably trying to look like he went to the tent, grabbed the bottles (which were sitting in the vestibule), and strolled out, looking like he belonged. Which is part of what makes me think it was a tourist, not a local. The locals tell me that a local thief would have just taken the whole bag, and I would have lost a travel journal too. But then why did the stupid **** take a crappy 3yr old camera, and my memory cards, which would have been worth bugger all.

Anyway, Max speaks fluent Spanish, and was a tremendous help. We spoke to the staff of the campsite/hostel, and they got the manager in. We went over what happened, and went around the corner to the police station, to file a report. The carabineros are a solid, respected force, but there's not much they can do. I've got a report for insurance purposes, but there's not much else that will happen. They were hassling the campsite owner, saying he should have better security. But there's not much more he could do - the site is fenced, there's one way in and out, but if you look like you belong, you probably won't be challenged, given the numbers of people passing through this town.

Oddly enough, after all that, I slept as soundly in my tent last night as I ever have. You just have to deal with these things. But maybe I should not have balked at the $31USD I was quoted for a dormitory room at a hostel in town...

I'll head to Punta Arenas from here, which is one of the biggest towns in the region, at around 120,000 people. It has a duty free area, so I'll try and pick up a new camera there. Will probably give the GPS a miss, since the prices won't be cheap.

Just a cool breeze

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 16:29:00 +0000

It's amazing how quickly things change. I woke up in El Chalten, in the mountains, to drizzle. It would probably rain all day. By nightfall I was in a place that receives only 20mm of rain per year.

I had been considering a day off in El Chalten, but listening to the rain I decided I'd had enough of it. I knew I didn't have far east to go, and within 10km I was pulling off the raingear. I was also riding on pavement for the first time in a couple of weeks, with a strong tailwind, and a gentle downhill. Very, very easy going, and such a change to the last few weeks.

The countryside changed very quickly, from lush forest, to dry country. Not many houses, to almost none. Just a few estancias along the way. The estancias are a mystery to me. They are generally large, with multiple buildings, and they appear to control a large area. However, I saw almost no sheep or cattle in the ride from El Chalten to El Calafate. A few horses, a guanaco, an armadillo, but only two sheep. Where are they all? My guess is that there used to be thousands of sheep, and large sums of money were made, but they destroyed the land. It's too fragile out here, and when the sheep eat the grass low, the soil just blows away in the relentless wind. It will probably take thousands of years to recover.

Some people struggle with the bleakness here, but so far it's OK for me. There are still mountain ranges, glacier fed lakes, and a handful of buildings. I've seen much, much bleaker than this.

I'm joined by Marko today, and we have a very easy ride for the first 90km. We then turn around the end of the lake, and it's a different story. The wind is hammering us, pushing us all over the road. Thankfully there's little traffic. After 20km of that, we stop at one of two places to stop along the whole 220km, at Hotel La Leona. It's a very nice place, and we're grateful when we shut the door and get relief from the wind. But we know there's another place 10km down the road, and decide to push on, since we know the next day will be tough. So we just have cake and a drink.

Down the road we get to Parador Luz Divina (Divine Light), where it seems the proprietors are chasing a different sort of divine light. It seems to be run by a bunch of stoners, and is not so fancy, but it ends up being a good place. I would prefer if the owners spent more time clearing up the dead cattle and empty beer bottles from the camping area, than getting stoned. Walking around inside with a hoody on and wearing sunglasses is a bit odd too. But one guy speaks English, and is nice to us. I have a shower under a dribble of water, but at least it's warm.

A couple stay in the hammock near our tents, talking and giggling all night. I don't understand the way the locals manage time. It's not that hot at day, so why sleep all day, and do things at night? Doesn't make sense.

The next day I fill my bottles with very silty water - but it's silty from the glacier feeding the lake at the other end, so it will be fine to drink. We set off early, knowing it will be a long day. Starts out OK, but then we climb, straight into the wind. At the top is a gentle downhill, but I can't roll down it - I have to pedal, or I won't move. But we can see the road turning just ahead, and crawl towards it. Speed again, and on a longer downhill I hit 73km/h. The road turns ahead though, so I brake, knowing that if I'm going to fast, the crosswind will fling me over the corner.

We all stop for lunch, Marko and I, and Neil and Victoria, a Scottish/NZ couple riding this way. We�re sheltering in a ditch, apparently also used as a toilet, to get out of the wind, before the intersection where we turn directly into the wind. We're all apprehensive about the next 32km.

Can't be put off forever though, so we try and get it out of the way. It is a ridiculous headwind, at least 40km/h, and we can barely move into it. Sometimes we're reduced to pushing the bikes. One couple of cyclists will stop for a break, 10 minutes later you can still see the others, only a kilometre ahead.

All I can do is put my head down and focus on the white line under my tires. Sometimes 4km/h, occasionally up to 10. Drafting helps, but it still hurts. It will take us 5 hours to cover the 32km into town. Reaching the municipal campsite, we're all shattered. You're happy to have made it, so don't quite realise how tired you are at first, until later that night, when you're falling asleep at the restaurant. We all slept well.

I've been having 3 days off in El Calafate, preparing for the next leg, which will probably have both headwinds and tailwinds. The best I can hope for is light winds. That or I could head east to Rio Gallegos, instead of east, south, west to Puerto Natales.

While here, I went on a daytrip to Perito Moreno Glacier. This is the main reason for this town existing, and it really is remarkable. Just an enormous river of ice, 5km wide, 60m high, 30m long, and moving 1-2m per day. I've now seen a few glaciers on this trip, but this really is the most impressive. You might just be able to make out a boat to the right of this photo. That's quite a large catamaran (at least 65ft), but it looks tiny.

Photos from the ride to Calafate, and a few of the Perito Moreno Glacier:

The hard way back to Argentina

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 16:27:00 +0000

I'm back in Argentina, after one of the more interesting border crossings I've done. I've crossed many, many borders now, and usually the fun and games come with the customs formalities. But this time customs on both sides were very quick, and the fun was the physical crossing.

The ferry leaves from about 8km out of town, so we (Susan, Martin and I) had a short ride to warm up. Early start for me these days, on the road by 7:45. Usually it's been closer to 9 I've been getting away. Easy ride down to the ferry, where the bikes are loaded on. As we're getting on, an old guy with crutches is being lifted onto the boat. Hmmm, is this crossing as hard as people make it out to be? Later turns out that he's going to the estancia - he was probably one of the early people breaking in this land.

After everyone is aboard, another cyclist appears - he's a Brazilian, who has been riding very long days for weeks, as he's been short on time. Short on planning too, as he arrived at Villa O'Higgins on Wednesday, the day the last boat left. He also had no more Chilean money, so he had been camping for three days in a disused boat near the ferry. Despite being closest to the departure point, he is somehow late.

The ferry is straightforward enough - strong winds, but mostly behind us. On the way down the long narrow arm of the lake, we stop to drop supplies at one place, and drop a passenger (and his 3 dogs, who had crapped on the deck) at another. These are extraordinarily isolated spots - little regular transport in summer, none in winter. Guess they like their own company.

At the other side of Lago O'Higgins, we stop for lunch, before completing border formalities, and starting the trek. The Chilean side starts out very steep, but it's dry, and the 4WD track is mostly rideable. A bit of pushing, but things are going OK. At the top, the track levels out, for some good riding. At one point, the road is diverted through a runway. The only time I've ridden on a runway before was on the emergency landing strips on the Stuart Highway. Strange runway to have in an isolated place, complete with fence and all - must have been military. Can't see what Argentina would want to invade for. We meet a couple of cyclists coming down. They said it was tough, but OK. They don't look too much the worse for wear.

We reach the actual border around 3pm, and so far we're all OK. We could have camped right there, but figure we should make a start on the Argentine side. As we find out though, once you start, you can't stop - you have to push on. It started to rain at this point, and the 4WD track became an ugly horse track.

What had been a manageable bike ride became something that would be a fun adventure on an unloaded mountainbike. Except now I've got panniers to deal with as I slog through the mud, across streams, sometimes with a few branches as a bridge, bash the bike on rocks, snag the front panniers on bushes...all while being rained on constantly. It's a...challenge. Sometimes I have to leave the panniers behind, take the bike, come back for the panniers. Other times I sink in the mud up to my knees. Waterproof socks don't work when they get flooded from the top.

At one point, the track was so deeply rutted that the sides were almost at the level of my handlebars. Sometimes I have the bike down in the ruts, while I walk with my feet on the bank above. How come the other cyclists we met weren't filthy? I think they must have stopped off for a wash in the river somewhere. It would have been much harder for them, some parts were very steep. The track is also very slippery, so even when I want to ride on the level parts, I have trouble with the wheel slipping. My shoe tread is also full of mud, so they slip too. But there was a perverse enjoyment in it. I just wish I wasn't bashing the hell out of my panniers - they're at the end of their life, but I need them to last a couple more months.

Finally I make it to the Argentinian customs, on the north side of Lago del Desierto, at about 6pm. We hadn't planned on making this crossing on the same day, but the boat is supposed to be due in 30 minutes. The hikers are hanging around waiting, so we join them. Thinking the boat won't be far away, we don't get fully changed into dry clothes. We wait, and we wait...finally the boat turns up, around 7pm. We get on the boat and wait some more. All four cyclists are very cold at this point, sitting still, trying to concentrate on staying alive. Other tourists open the windows to look out, we have to move around the boat to find somewhere no windows are open.

Finally the engines start...then die. A little later, the mate goes up to the bridge, holding a pair of pliers. A few minutes later, the engines start again, and we're moving. We start moving down the lake. Gusts of wind coming roaring down the mountain, bringing up a lot of spray. It's all quite interesting, but I can't focus enough to get the camera out, and I don't want to hang out the window, in the wind, to get a picture.

In front of me are a young Argentine couple. She has her eyes painted like a doll, or maybe like a young girl playing with makeup might. They keep kissing, but she keeps her eyes open, staring coldly at him. It's very disturbing. It's like she's a Thai or Russian bride, pretending to get along with her suitor. The captain comes to talk to them. He looks like Maradona, although maybe not so fat. Could be he's dressed to look more like him, and I can definitely see him doing a swan dive on the turf. He keeps opening the window to point out things you can't see in the mist, and I�m thinking "Shut the ****ing window or I'll die of hypothermia here."

Finally we make it to the other side, around 8:30pm now, and hurry off the boat. A sign says "Camping 200m", so we head that way. There's no showers at the campsite - well there were, but they've been broken a while(years probably...), and there�s a pile of turds in one of them. But we're too cold to argue about paying for not much, and then the guy hauls us all into the office in front of the fire...we all make the same sound, as some warmth finally returns.

As I put up the tent, some hail falls on me. I change into dry clothes, and we head to the cooking shelter, where a couple of Argentines have a fire going. They appear to be cooking half a beast, but it's just dinner for the two of them. Not minding the smoke in our eyes, we cook dinner. Half an hour later, warm(ish), dry, sheltered from the wind and rain, with warm food inside us, the world is a different place.

The next morning we have clear skies, but it's still cold. Clear skies show the glacier close to our campsite, and we are rewarded with views of Mt Fitzroy - normally covered in cloud 4 days out of 5. We have a strong tailwind pushing us down the rough road to El Chalten. Good campsite there too, lots of hot water. The only casualty is I lose my Icebreaker hat to the wind somewhere - didn't notice until later that it had blown out of my barbag. Sunshine, pizza and beer in El Chalten, and things are looking up. I also catch up with Marko, who I last saw in Coyhaique.

One more note - the place next to the campsite had a sign up "All the pizza you can eat for $28" (about $7USD). But when we go past later, it's gone - I think they saw 5 hungry cyclists ride past, and decide it might break the budget...

Some photos from the crossing. Like Jeff Kruys, I would have taken more photos, but it was too damn hard.

Villa O'Higgins

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 21:57:00 +0000

I'll keep this brief, because the Internet connection is flaky, but I've made it to Villa O'Higgins, at the end of the Carretera Austral. A few good days travelling down from Cochrane, on some very quiet roads.

At one point I needed to catch a ferry, from Puerto Yungay to Rio Bravo. I had seen a sign indicating they left at 8:00, 10:00, 13:00 and 18:15. I arrived just before 13:00, to find it had left at 12:00, and the next one was at 18:00. It was pouring down at this stage, but there was a little cafe, with a fireplace, and the owner was quite happy for me to sit there for 5 hours, drying out. At one stage he went home, leaving there by myself. I only helped myself to one extra slice of cake, but I did tell him about it when it came time to pay.

On the other side, on a road that only opened 10 years ago, there is very little traffic. By this time I was riding with Susan and Martin, a Dutch couple who started in Alaska. Empty roads, a few climbs, and so many condors! Plus any time you ran out of water, you just went to the side of the road, and found a stream of pure snow-melt, no treatment required. You could see the ice and snow, and where the stream ran down the mountainside to your bottle. Perfect.

From here, I'm crossing to El Chalten in Argentina. Will take two or three days, assuming the boat leaves tomorrow. It's an interesting crossing - see here for details.

Oh and I must look it up on the map, but I do believe this is the furthest south I've ever been - I must be very close to the southernmost point of New Zealand by now.

Edit: Photos added now:

That�s more like it

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 21:21:00 +0000

Things have been going much better the last few days - I'm in Cochrane, the last major (2,000+) people town on the Carretera Austral, less than 250km from the end. This part of the Carretera Austral has a different climate, much drier than a little bit north, but with manageable amounts of wind. There's still been some rain, but there's been mostly sunshine for the last 3 days. Such a change to ride in just shirt and shorts.

Not all plain sailing of course - the first leg to Villa Cerro Castillo was paved, but it�s been rough roads since, with a lot of corrugations. Sometimes you don't see them coming, hit them too fast, and just about get shaken apart. With all the shaking going on, I've been surprised that more things have not broken. Two things I've noticed - one was a rack bolt in the same place as before, but this time I could extract it myself. Lucky. Not sure why that side keeps breaking though.

The second thing was something I never expected to fail - my pot. I was cooking my dinner, and couldn't understand why my stove kept going out. Multifuel stoves can be temperamental, so at first I didn't think much of it. Then I realised the water was slowly draining out a small hole in the side of my pot. I had to tilt it at 45° and not put too much into it, to cook my dinner. I just managed.

Around Puerto Bertrand, there are plenty of flash lodges, aimed at well-heeled fly fisherman. Oddly though, some are closed up, empty, in the middle of what should be the high season. I don't know if this is because they would never have been economic, or if it's recent events. I have heard tourist numbers are down 30-40 percent, and I've never had a problem finding a place to stay. This even though guidebooks tell you to book ahead at this time of year. Could be that people are put off by the high costs. I paid $50USD for a room the other night, which was OK, but didn't even provide a towel. So it's back to camping, which I'm doing in someone's backyard in Cochrane, for the more reasonable amount of $6USD. Hot showers too, or at least there should be when they finish painting and unlock it again.

In Coyhaique, there were camping stores where I could get perfect replacement pots, made by MSR. I didn't want to get a bus back there though, so thought I would look around here. This town used to be the end of the line, so there is a true general store - Casa Melero. This sells everything, from toothpaste to toilets, from chainsaws to chickens, nails to nail polish. A true old style general store. They have camping gear too, so I thought I would be in luck - but no joy. The only pots I could find were too large. I'm not going to carry a 20L soup tureen on my bike, to cook my noodles. However, I bashed over the hole, and testing last night indicated that it will now hold water. So I'll keep using it until I can find a replacement.

I'll need it the next few nights too, as I'm heading to Villa O'Higgins, and I'm not going to make the detour to Caleta Tortel. This means 4 days of riding until the next town. I've stocked up on food, so I should be OK, but it's going to be some long empty stretches. Perhaps a little more rain too, as I head west a bit, before going east again. Because of the topography here, a few kilometres each way can make a big difference in rainfall. With luck, I'll get the Saturday ferry from O'Higgins, to make the trek across to Argentina. If I don't have time to do web stuff in O'Higgins, it may be 7-10 days before I'm online again.

Drying out

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 17:40:00 +0000

I�m back in Chile, and have just completed my first week on the Carretera Austral, riding to Coyhaique. It�s been an interesting week, covering all the main bases of riding here - rain, shocking roads, spectacular scenery, plenty of cyclists, and the odd mechanical failure.

From Trevelin I went back across the border to Chile, via Futaleufu. Right at the border it began to rain. I kid you not. I went into the border control building, went through processing, came out and I had to put the jacket on. It�s stayed on for most of the next week.

I could have stayed in Futaleufu, but it was full of stereotypical loud Americans, and it was a crappy place if you weren�t rafting or kayaking. The road from Futaleufu to the main road is not good, especially when it has been raining, and it becomes soft and sticky. Little traffic, but the roads soon took their toll - a bolt on my rack has sheared off, and I can�t get it out. So I stuck a bunch of cable ties on there, and hoped for the best. It lasted a week, and the bike is now at the shop getting fixed. I�ll go there soon, hopefully it will be sorted.

Joining the main road at Villa Santa Lucia, I ran into Marko, a German who has just started his trip, also headed south. We�ve stuck together for the last week. It�s been quite different having some company, especially when you are so used to riding by yourself.

We had a couple of good days heading to Puyuhuapi. Not much rain, just overcast. Long clear sunny spells is too much to hope for in this part. We met a young Englishman who had left Ushuaia 3 weeks ago, and was riding long distances every day. We thought he was mad, and you could see the toll it was taking - he was confused, forgetful, and clearly in need of a rest. What�s the point in trying to go so far every day? If you don�t have a lot of time, then just aim to do a shorter trip. There�s no prize for going fast.

From Puyuhuapi we had a tough time of it. We knew we had a pass to cover, and around 90km to the next town. We were happy to camp, but then it started raining, and there wasn�t really much in the way of camping opportunities. The road was shocking, narrow, loose surfaces, with something like 15 switchbacks heading up the pass. At this stage it was pouring down, and we just wanted to get over the pass, and down. There would have been fabulous views, and great photos, but it was too wet, with the clouds too low to see much.

Our timing was not so good, and it was about 6pm we were coming down the pass. We met a Canadian pushing his narrow-tyred bike up the pass. There�s a certain schadenfreude when you meet someone having an even worse day than you. He still had to get over the pass, it was a long way to the next town, and he had a only a couple of camping places - oh and his tent was leaking.

Reaching the bottom of the pass, we still had 24km to go, and it was getting late. Two things though: Sunset is late at this time of year (about 9:30pm), and they had extended the pavement to the intersection with the Puerto Cisnes road! So we had smooth smooth tarmac, and we thought we could make it. Still tough though, and we didn�t reach Villa Amengual until about 9pm. Everything was wet - my panniers have too many holes in them, so they tend to get water in them, which then can�t drain out. The Goretex shoes were full of water - but the Sealskinz socks worked perfectly, keeping my feet dry. The jacket/overtrousers had a bit of dampness inside them, but that is at least in part from sweat. We were so grateful to be warm and dry, and not camping, as we listened to the rain pour down overnight. A French couple arrived after us - they were having a tough day. Disturbingly, he reminded me strongly of Mr Bean with a French accent.

We started again in the rain the next day, but along the way the rain stopped, and later there was even a little sun. Things started to try out, we had downhill and tailwinds through gorgeous valleys...things started looking up. Pity the woman running Residencial Manihuales was such a cow. Luckily we weren�t cold, and didn�t need a hot shower anyway.

The fine weather continued for the leg to Coyhaique. Longer than previous legs, but smooth roads and favourable winds. It was a shock to reach a large city, to wander around in amazement at the shelves and shelves of goods at the supermarket, to see such an array of places to eat. Such a change. So strange too, a large city with seemingly nothing around it for miles.

Two final thoughts: If this is such an isolated area, with so few people, why is it that everywhere is fenced off? Wild camping is not as easy here as I thought it would have been. And secondly, why is it that Chilenos have such a lack of attention to detail? Nothing is finished off properly, doors don�t quite line up, windows don�t work right. It�s not like they�re too busy doing other stuff, and lack of money is only an excuse for poor materials, not poor workmanship.

Keeping up with the Jones

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 00:52:00 +0000

Well New Years wasn't quite alone in a forest, but it wasn't too far off. I was in a nice little riverside campsite, along with maybe 10 others. I had had a tough day on the bike, so although I could have joined them in the cabin, I ended up drinking some wine from the Tetrapak I was carrying, and falling asleep by 10pm. People talk about noisy Argentinian campsites, and I was a little worried about that, but it was no problem. I would have been too deeply asleep to notice anyway.

After Bariloche, I headed south in the wind and rain to Lago Steffen. This is a 10km dirt road detour off the main road. 4 of those 10km are very steep, with multiple switchbacks. I lost 400m in altitude, coming down to just below 600m. I think that this, combined with being more sheltered, made it feel warmer at the campsite. Still cold though - the temperature inside my tent dropped to 5 degrees overnight. It was a simple campsite, but with a shower block. There was a wood burner attached, that heated the water. There was no fire at first, but later someone lit it - lucky for me, because I didn't think they would, since so few people were there. I was pretty grateful though, as I was too cold to face a cold shower.

In El Bolson, I stopped at the brewery, which has a campsite. Only one other person was camping, but plenty of locals were eating at the restaurant. Hot water, shelters, food, beer and Wifi - I was pretty happy.

More cold, wind and rain the next day, interspersed with hot sunshine, and some bad roads, made for a tough New Years Eve. New Years Day was a shorter day, but still a lot more climbing than I would have liked. At one stage I picked up a stray dog, that decided to follow me for 5km. It was mostly climbing, so it could keep up. Couldn't seem to shake it, until I hit a long downhill. Kept trying to discourage it, because I didn't want the skinny thing following me for miles, only to luck out on food.

Finally the sun came out for extended periods, as I rolled into Trevelin a former Welsh colony. First time in short sleeves for weeks. Nice easy day too, and a nice hostel - Casa Verde.

I was planning a quiet night, but some others encouraged me to go out. At first we sat by the main plaza/roundabout watching the same cars go by again and again. Turns out there's not a lot happening in this town of 5-10,000. It has one bar, the "San Patricio Irish Pub" which would be the least Irish Irish pub I've ever seen. The only Irish thing was the green curtains.

The problem of course is that Argentinians don't go out until quite late - we got there at 1:30, but it didn't pick up until at least 2am. I have no idea where all these people were the rest of the night, but they were still going strong at 5am when we pulled the plug. A note to others going to this pub - do not order the "Cuban Mojiti" - rather than use fresh mint, they appeared to have used toothpaste for flavour. We're not sure what was in the "destornallido" either, but it was strong. Another note is that you should be wary of places that let you pour your own vodka mix. Perhaps we should have done what the locals did, and stuck to beer.

So today was spent recovering, and wandering about this town. Odd place, with fair Welsh-looking people speaking Spanish. It's also interesting seeing the places with immaculately groomed and watered lawns, something you don't often see here. It rains a lot, but the dry winds seem to strip the moisture rapidly.

Tomorrow I will head back to Chile, to join the famed Carretera Austral. Not sure what communications will be like for the next week or so. Will update the blog, and add photos when possible.

Where to for New Years?

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 15:32:00 +0000

I'm sitting in "San Carlos de Bariloche" - or just Bariloche for short - trying to work out what I should do for New Years Eve. I'm planning to leave here tomorrow, and head to El Bolson, an old hippy community about 125km south. It will take me two days to get there, so I should arrive on the 30th. If I don't stop there for a rest day, then New Years Eve will almost certainly be camped somewhere in a forest, by myself. Again. I need to decide now, because places are getting fully booked now, and it looks like there is going to be a LOT of camping coming up, because that will be the only place I'll be able to get.

Christmas was spent alone though, so it won't make much difference if I do the same for New Years. Probably wouldn't be the best idea to ride out of town on New Years Day anyway. At the time I'm leaving, people will just be getting into the swing of the party. So I'll keep riding, even if it's only short days.

I left San Martin on Christmas Day, through eerily empty streets. Around the lake the good road was deserted, but then as I began a long climb up a gentle gradient, I was surprised at the number of vehicles passing me. Cars, trucks, carrying/towing boats, old American-style pick-up trucks with 10 ni�os (kids) in the back, all sorts. I couldn't work out where they were all going - don't they know it's Christmas?

At the top of the pass was "Arroyo Partido" - it doesn't look like much, but it's where a small river splits in two. Yes Lindsay, that's boring, who cares. Well it turns out that one branch of the river ultimately flows to the Atlantic, while the other flows to the Pacific. I think that's pretty cool. So I stopped there for a while, reading in the sunshine.

Later in the day, I finally worked out where everyone was going - they were all parked next to Lago Falkner, or its neighbour, Lago Villarino. There was a large field beside Villarino, and I was concerned about the clouds that were coming in, so I decided to stop and camp there, with all the Argentinian day campers. You see, although a place looks very busy during the day, they almost all leave at night, leaving you in peace. There were a couple of British cyclists there, who were just packing up. They'd been having the day off, but felt they should probably do some exercise, so were going to push on 20 or so km down the road, before the rain hit. I'll probably catch up with them again soon.

I thought I'd done well with my tent site, behind a little bit of shelter from the rising wind, not far from some small clean creeks that ran across the field. But then as various vehicles left, and drove close to my tent, I started getting concerned, because there was a bit of standing water left where the vehicles had passed, and the rain was about to start. Suddenly I realised that I could be in trouble if ground water levels started rising, as my tent handles wind and rain, but not groundwater. It was too late to move though, so it was a nervous night huddled in the tent, listening to the wind and rain.

Boxing Day brought more rain, but luckily there were breaks in it. First time I've had to get all the wet weather gear out, and I needed it. During a break in the rain, I packed up my tent, and got moving. The tarmac ended after a kilometre, and then I had gravel roads, that they've been working on for several years. Roads being worked on can be even harder than un-maintained roads, but these were generally in quite ridable condition. Based on their progress, I think it will be a few more years before it's all paved though. Some bits are ready for paving, other parts still need some massive earthworks. Beautiful area though.

I had planned on camping, but I was cold, wet and tired, so I wimped out, and got a dorm bed in a hostel at Villa La Angostura. Central heating, very nice. I got confused trying to follow my GPS to the hostel location though - it was saying there was a road in this direction, and to head up that road...but all I could see was a little dirt track. Turned out that was the road though. It's like Romania here - the main road through town is paved, but nothing off it.

Yesterday I had an easy 60km, with a strong wind behind me, and I was just cruising. Couldn't last though - I hit a 90° junction, and now the wind was trying to knock me over onto the now busy road. Struggled through the last 20km, and was grateful to make it to my hostel, "41 Below", run by a Kiwi here. Nice place too, I would recommend it. Safe, warm, quiet, but very central. Cool people here too.

Just been mucking around this morning, getting a few chores done, trying to track down a few items I need. I've also gotten a haircut. Low maintenance, number 3 all over. Next time I'll go shorter though I think. Should cut down on the amount of soap I need to carry. Now if only I could track down some White Gas aka Bencina Blanca...

Oh and before I forget, does anyone know why the Argentinian car fleet is a weird mix of mostly new, and a few quite old vehicles? There's not much from say 80s, early 90s, but there are quite a few old Ford Falcons and Renaults from the 70s, and a few crappy old Minis. Something odd about it, there's no progression to the ages. Must be a reason for it.

And here's another round of photos, from the most recent leg:

Argentina Already

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 14:21:00 +0000

The problem with random conversations with cyclists, is that you can end up different things to what you planned. So it was, and so it is that I am now in Argentina, several weeks earlier than I had thought I would first visit. I had planned on staying in Chile a while longer, but after chatting with another cyclist, I decided to head to Argentina from Villaricca.

I headed down to Lican Ray, then around the lake to Conaripe. Herr Meyer struck again here - my high school German managed to get me free lunch. I was picking up some supplies from the supermercado, when a local came and started chatting to me. He had been born here, but his parents were from Munich, and so he spoke German. There is a strong German influence in Chile, which you can see in the houses, some names, and the beer. Anyway, he took me to a local bakery, where he seems to have an account, and bought me an empanada. These are a pastry turnover, with different fillings - e.g. cheese, mince, etc. I'd been pretty disappointed with them in the past, as they were quite lacking in substance, but this was a proper one, filled with good quality ingredients. He told me a bit about the place and people, and sent me on my way, not letting me pay for anything.

From Conaripe, the pavement ended, and the ripio (gravel roads) began. A big slog up a hill, then a very steep descent down to a Termas. The Termas Conaripe is a fancy place, with expensive hotel rooms...but right next to it is the "Eco Termas Pellaifa" which is a bit more basic. Camping sites, 3 pools (cool, warm, warmer), bathrooms, etc. Plenty of other people there when I arrived,but they were only day camping. So by evening, I was the only one there. A bargain at $6USD for the campsite and access to the pools. I would have just liked to relax in the pools, but a Mapuche girl wanted to practice her English. Oddly enough, you are generally left alone by Chilenos, completely different to China, where people are always interested in you. I could have done with the rest, but it was good to chat, to learn a bit more about the place, and hopefully improve the image of tourists.

Next day was tough, taking a little used road towards Puerto Fuy. Some sections were extremely steep, with very loose gravel. In 20km, I saw about 5 vehicles. At the top, a guy in a ute asked if I wanted a lift - a bit late! On the way up to Puerto Fuy, I passed the Montana Magica Lodge. Surrounded by forest, up a gravel road, is this enormous wooden hotel. Looks like the sort of place that very rich celebrities go to when they want to "rough it" in a 5-star hotel in the middle of nowhere.

From Puerto Fuy, there is a ferry across Lake Pirihueico to Puerto Pirihueico. There is a very rough track around the lake, but the 90 minute ferry along the long, narrow lake is a better option. I had no idea what the timetable was, but figured I could always stay in Puerto Fuy if need be. But luck was with me, and somehow I managed to roll onto the boat 2 minutes before the 14:00 sailing. Turns out that the current timetable is 14:00 Fuy -> Pirihueico, and 16:00 return. In Janurary and February, it runs at 8:00, 13:00 and 18:00, returning 2 hours later. If I'd been just a little slower, I would have had a whole day to kill in the tiny town of Puerto Fuy.

At the other side, it's about 11km to the border, so I decided to camp for the night. I thought I had a perfectly good little spot, hidden from the road, didn't appear to have been anyone else around for a few weeks...and then after I'd set up a guy came past with a couple of cows. He didn't seem to care though.

At the Chilean customs the next morning, the place was deserted. They are supposed to be open, but they know that there were no ferries due for hours. After a bit of waiting, I eventually went and woke some people up, and they stamped me out. Just as well I did get them to, as on the Argentinian side they checked my exit stamp.

A pretty long, very slow climb on the Argentinian side. At least the road surface improved dramatically, from loose stones, to a hard, reasonably smooth surface. But it was slow going, exacerbated by the fact I was very low on food, and there was nowhere open selling food until my destination. I was pretty happy when I reached the highest point (1040m), because then I knew I could reach San Martin de Los Andes, and food wouldn't be a problem.

This is a very upmarket kind of place, and a big change to the villages on the Chilean side. It's too expensive to stay long, but I will stay 3 nights, so that I will be here on Christmas Eve (Christmas Day NZ time). I'll then ride out on Christmas Day, heading towards Bariloche. Looks like New Years Eve is going to be in the middle of nowhere too...

A few more photos for you to peruse:

Relaxing by the Lake

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 18:46:00 +0000

After four days on the road, and my body trying to tell me that it is no longer in the condition it used to be in, I am having a rest. Villaricca seems as good a place as any to stop, especially when it is at a hostel run by a pair of RTW cyclists who decided that here was where they would stop.

From Santiago I got a bus with Linea Azul to Chillan, to avoid the crap riding on the motorway south of Santiago. Since then I've had 3.5 days on the dual carriageway Ruta 5, and half a day on the (good) road to Villaricca. After here, the dirt roads will start.

From Chillan, I rode to Salta del Lajos, a waterfall, where I was the first camping tourist of the season. Apparently the others are still 3-4 weeks away. I was all alone in the campsite. Still a ripoff at $10USD for cold water. Prices are per site, rather than per person, making it expensive for one.

Next stop was a very dodgy town, Chollipulli. There's something odd about seeing Chilean kids trying so hard to look like an American skater, right down to the pants down low showing their boxers. Especially when you're in the middle of a town that is very much NOT the USA.

There is quite obvious disparity here in people's incomes. It's odd stopping at a services area that could be in Europe, then next stopping at a little shack on the edge of a field, to grab an empanada. I don't think it's coruption (like say China or Central Asia), more it's that some people have adapted faster to the changes since Pinochet's time. There is some serious money behind the agricultural procesing plants, and huge houses in the Lake District here.

Another day down the Ruta 5 from Chollipulli to Temuco, then a nice easy ride out here to Villaricca. Didn't expect Villaricca to have as many flash places as it does, but I guess it's a rich person's playground.

Met my first touring cyclists yesterday, and had a chat about where to go from here. The current thinking is that I may be better off going to Argentina in the next day or two, moving south, then crossing back to Chile around Futaleafu. Seems as good a plan as any.

Check out this Picasa Web Album, to see some of the photos so far:

Puppy Killer

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 21:41:00 +0000

That's right folks, you better watch me closely now.

Yesterday I was on the road, cycling down the dual carriageway that runs down the middle of Chile, the Ruta 5, aka the PanAmerican highway. Here it's a relatively recently constructed road, perhaps a bit dull to ride on, but safe for the cyclist, since there's a wide paved shoulder, so you don't have to worry about making room for vehicles. The on/off ramps every 5km or so are well constructed too, making them quite easy to negotiate, with plenty of room to move, and work out when it's safe to cross the off ramp. Regular bus stops also provide shade. Still, a couple more days of it and I'll be getting pretty sick of it.

Anyway, this section had a concrete ditch running alongside it. Like most of the countryside until the last day or so, it's hot and dry. I'm riding along, and I see something in the gutter - I then realise it's moving, and making noise. Other times I might have just left it alone, not wanting to get involved, but 10 metres down the road, I realise what it is, and what I need to do.

I put down the bike, and go back. There's a small black puppy lying there, paws akimbo, attracting flies. It seems to be dead. But near it is a white puppy, struggling, mewling pathetically, turning its head in my direction, even though it's eyes aren't open. I pretty quickly summed it up - someone has thrown a couple of unwanted puppies off a moving car, and the fall has killed one of them. The other was severely dehydrated, lonely, confused, and probably internally injured from the fall.

Dogs are not treated well here. Towns have strays running around, and clearly they are beaten by the locals, as they are timid. Patting one the other day, it was clearly grateful for a simple touch (although it would probably have preferred food...). There is no SPCA. The next town, 10km away, would not have facilities for an animal like this.

Before going back, I had picked up a rock. I use it. Hmmm, not sure that rock was big enough. A second time. It is done for certain.

Not the easiest of things to do, but better than the alternative of leaving it.

Now those dogs here better continue to leave me alone, so there doesn�t have to be any more casualties...

First days in Chile

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 18:32:00 +0000

I've been in Santiago a few days now, and I'm starting to get the hang of it, so here's a bit more on what's happening. Yesterday got off to a slow start, as I didn't even wake up until noon. Usually I can tell the time to within about 10 minutes, without a watch, but my body clock is a bit messed up right now. It's coming right, and should be sorted soon. Hope so, because waking up hungry at 4am, way too hot to go back to sleep, is not fun.

Haven't done too much in the way of typical tourist stuff, other than going up the cable car, to the top of the hill overlooking the city. It was quite weird walking through the markets selling tourist tat, and be completely ignored by the hawkers. They were focussing on the Spanish-speaking touristas. Other than that there's been a lot of walking around, and getting a few things sorted out. Ordering food/drink is easy, but when you need to carry out slightly more complicated transactions, such as getting a new SIM card setup, things get a bit more interesting when you don't share much language. I'd forgotten how much fun that can be.

People think that travel to exotic locations is glamorous, and maybe it can be, but if they saw me yesterday, sitting in a bright orange restaurant, eating fried chicken that was more skin than meat, off a bright orange plastic tray, watching an Adam Sandler movie dubbed into very loud Spanish, well, they might just think again.

Today I went for a bike ride around Santiago, covering about 35km. Surprisingly, the city has some useful bike facilities, with many bike paths through the parks, and along the riverbank. Many Chilenos were out and about on their bikes too. With it being a Sunday, and an election day, most shops were closed, so there was not much traffic. As an aside though, can you imagine a Western service station closing the shop part (but still selling petrol) just because it's an election day? Hasn't anyone told them that most of their sales margin is made in the store, not at the pump?

The vague outline of the ride I did was to follow the river through the city, from east to west. This corresponded with a significant decline in the money in each area. In the east was a huge shopping mall, full of rich Western brands, but closed. Very odd seeing a carpark listing spaces available: 1415. It was all Gucci and Prada out there, but sterile. As I went west, the money dropped, but once I passed the city center, things got much more interesting. Far more drunken bums passed out on the grass. Many shops were still closed, but there were still markets and things going on in the west. I guess when you're poor, you can't always just take a day off.

Tomorrow I'm going to get a bus to Chillan, and ride from there. This will save me some time, and avoid some dull riding through industrial areas, and busy roads.

Sunning myself in Santiago

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 17:15:00 +0000

Just a quick post, to say that I�ve arrived in Santiago. Bike seems to have made it through the flight OK too - first thing I did was to put it together. Nothing seems damaged. I took the easy option of getting a minibus taxi to get me and my bike from the airport to the hostel. Purists would of course assemble the bike at the airport, and ride from there, but I couldn�t be bothered. It�s not the easiest to find the non-motorway route in from the airport either.

I arrived around noon, and although I could have probably done with a nap, I decided to get out and about in the sunshine, to help reset my body clock. Plenty of sunshine there was too, with no clouds and temperatures around 30°. Lots of walking around the city centre, dodging the crowds in the shopping areas. I'm getting sorted out with provisions now, and working out how I�m going to get out of town. Current plan is to get a bus to Chillan, to save some time, and avoid riding through busy industrial areas.

3 in 3

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 05:55:00 +0000

Last weekend Wellington, this weekend Sydney, next weekend Santiago. After a paltry 2 flights in the last year, and not even leaving the country, I am at last moving again.

Kiwicon was on in Wellington. This was the third running of a computer security conference. We don't get many conferences here, so it was heartening to see quality talks, attended by around 300 people. On a weekend no less. The $50 price tag might have helped this somewhat. A good range of talks - some of them way too technical for me, some covering things I know and do every day, and some just hitting the right spot. A good chance to catch up with a few people I know too - it's a small industry here.

Next weekend is Sydney, for a cousin's wedding. It will be a good opportunity to catch up with some spread out branches of the family. After Sydney, back to NZ for a couple of days before flying to Santiago. Only two more days of work to go too. I've moved out of my flat, everything's packed up and I'm living out of (nb not in) a cardboard box.

Although I've packed up most of my stuff, it doesn't mean that I've sorted out all my gear. I've been busy patching holes in my panniers, and sorting out other stuff. I think I've got everything I want; it's now a matter of sorting through and working out what I actually need. Matt@Velo is going to hold an extra large bike box for me, so next week I'll box it up, and pray that I don't get hit with excess baggage charges. Could be marginal.

I've also started looking at some of my maps. I've got a couple of overlapping maps, and I'm a bit concerned about discrepancies between them. One has a road marked as a highway, the other as a "seasonal track." At best the road will be a dirt road. One marks some roads as highways when I know that they are dirt roads. I should be able to get hold of some better maps when I'm in country anyway. These ones are just for planning. I've also found detailed maps for my GPS, from gps.com.ar. They are detailed, it remains to be seen if they are accurate.

Keeping Courier Companies in Business

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 07:48:00 +0000

I've been busy ordering lots of bits and pieces lately - Schwalbe Marathon Extreme tyres, a new pump, and another pair of Sealskinz because I can't find my old ones. That's just from St John Street Cycles, the original suppliers of my bike, and one of the best sources of touring equipment.

Then there's the Juggernauts and Underdogs from Ground Effect, a Christchurch-based supplier of quality biking clothing. Only reason I haven't taken Ground Effect stuff on tour in the past is because I supplied most of my kit from the UK, where I was based at the time.

And I'm trying out some Earth Sea Sky equipment - the Traverse Jacket and Overtrousers, because I'm concerned about inclement weather on this trip. If it's good enough for our scientists in Antarctica, it should be good enough for me. Luckily I've got family contacts getting some for me at a good price too...

This is not to say I'm neglecting the local bike store - I'm back there this week to get spare spokes, spare tubes, patch kit, and see if we can sort out the last of my setup issues. We changed the stem, bars, grips, seat post and saddle, and now something's not quite right. A bit too much weight on my hands, and something's not right with the saddle position, where I'm slipping forward a bit. Hopefully we can get it sorted, or I'm going to be a bit unhappy until my body molds to the bike. Oh and I think I'll get some new pedals, change to flats, rather than clipless, so I only need one pair of shoes.

Plus there's the visits to the camping stores - stove maintenance kit, drybag, more DEET, etc...

Yes, yes, this does all get a bit expensive. Best try not to think about that. But I've got my new HSBC Visa Debit card, so it doesn't matter, right?

One Typhoid and One Noroxin Please

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 08:03:00 +0000

In spite of having a booklet describing all the things that doctors have injected into me over the years, I needed one more jab. Just a typhoid shot - apparently it only lasts 3 years. Everything else is up to date. The only one questioned was yellow fever - we decided that since I'm probably not going into the risk zone, we'll leave that one off the list. Just in case. Live vaccines carry a slightly higher risk. Not that I'm one of the anti-vaccine freaks, to be clear. I am a firm believer in herd immunity, and think it is appallingly selfish to not vaccinate little Timmy, instead relying on everyone else to vaccinate their kids.

I also needed to update a couple of antibiotics in my travel kit. Some had expired, others I seemed to have used up the last of. It's a lot easier in developing countries where you can go and find a chemist, and tell them what drugs you want. Here it's a bit tricky, doctors seem to only want to give you drugs if you're actually sick. Crazy talk. Good thing the Travel Doctor understands people like me. They do try to wind you up though. If you read their pamphlets too closely, I do believe you'd never leave the house.

Still plenty of things to organise, but it looks like a quiet weekend coming up, as I'm stuck in town for the long weekend. Being on call sucks. So maybe I'll get a few more bits and pieces sorted out.

On a completely different note, I can highly recommend The Beach Bach for those looking for a secluded getaway. Private, with a feeling of isolation - but very easy to get to. Right next to the water's edge, with a farm to walk around, or kayaks to paddle up the estuary in. Very relaxing, just what was required.