Day 1,599
Londres
After a few days in Salta it was back on the road for us. Another day, another bike ride… and repeat. Getting out of the city wasn't much fun but eventually we cleared the outskirts and returned to the countryside. The scenery slowly built up, long, seemingly endless roads, with the hills slowly building into mountains.
The mountains were wind-blasted and multi-coloured. We cycled along, one eye on the road the other looking at the birdlife, as these mountains are the perfect place to spot birds of prey. We were rewarded with a fantastic sight, a crested caracara, sitting calmly gazing back at us. We'd seen so many of these, swopping above us, searching for their next meal but never one so still and so close. Very happy we cycled on, but we weren't fully satisfied. A fellow tourer had spotted a Andean condor near here, considered to be the largest bird of prey in the world but as yet, despite cycling endlessly up and over the Andes we hadn't seen one up close.
Spot the Debs!
We were also back in cacti-world, the tops of the mountains were lined with them, like soldiers eyeing our progress. The valley floor was a mass of different types, all shapes and sizes, many coming into flower, some bearing fruit. After eating some of the fruit in Spain, and spending the next few hours removing spines from my mouth, I stayed well away and admired from afar.
Green near the river, then endless desert
Over the next two weeks we plan to cycle along a section of the famous Ruta 40, that runs right through Argentina, at 5,194 kilometres long, one of the longest roads in the world. Each kilometre is marked by a sign post, the most famous being the 4,000, a mecca for the Instagram influencers. We would pass that point in a week or so on our way to Mendoza.
The rocky mountainside slowly changed colour to a deep red, over the millennium wind and rain have created great caverns and canyons, which are now a major tourist draw. We cycled up, past the tour buses, to gawp in awe with everyone else. Seeing us added to the entertainment factor for those in the buses and we fielded the usual questions. You cycled here ? From where? You're going where? On bikes? Where's your car? You haven't got one? You're cycling around the world? Seriously? No way!
They returned to their buses and we pedalled on. We knew that the further south we went the stronger the winds would get, and daily we were getting battered. We were passing fewer and fewer villages, with gaps between any shelter or resupply points becoming almost a day's ride. Factoring in the wind this was becoming a serious problem. The rivers had long since dried up, so filtering water from them was a nonstarter. Tom filled up our water sack, adding more weight to his already overladen bike. After a night in a small town, Santa Maria, we set off, knowing that we had 70 miles of nothing to ride through. The app, iOverlander, promised we'd pass a cafe at 20 miles. The issue with this is that in Argentina, we never know if they will be open. Most places open late, close all afternoon for siesta and reopen around 8pm, maybe. It would have been better if the cafe was at the halfway mark but somewhere for a stop is always welcome.
The geology kept giving - the history of Planet Earth laid out before us
We pulled up around 10.30am, so more of a second breakfast rather than lunch stop. We'd read awesome reports of the quality of the homemade bread and cakes, and indeed it exceeded our expectations. As we paid, we chatted to the owner, who pointed out a wall covered with small drawings all done by previous visitors. The artists put the date and country they were from on the card. There, from almost exactly two years ago, was a drawing by Suzie and Ed, who, but for me heading home for my eye operations, we'd have met in person rather than just on WhatsApp. I messaged her and she immediately replied, ‘best cakes in Argentina!’
The owner loaded us up with bottles of frozen water, the next 50 miles were going to be tough. No chance of resupply, just us, the endless road, desert, and that headwind. On we rode, mile after torturous mile, grinding slowly on.
Some more ‘Spot the Debs’
Then suddenly Tom called out, and there, flying low above us was an Andean Condor, we had a reward for all our suffering. That night, after 70 tough miles we treated ourselves to a bed in a hostel and they even had a restaurant. Being Argentina it didn't open til 8pm, and food took forever to come but it was worth the wait. The following day was easier, we passed a few small towns, and one even had an open coffee shop, yeh! At just under 50 miles we reached the final town, Londres, before a long long section of wilderness. We booked into a small hostel, and cooked up a massive bowl of pasta, ready for a good night's sleep and another big ride in the morning.
Things though, didn't quite go to plan. We didn't know it yet, but we weren't going to get much sleep and we wouldn't be spending the night in Londres!
