Saturday, September 15, 2012

Through the Past Slowly - Scotland to Spain on a Bicycle
October - December 2012

I'm leaving soon on another pedalling adventure. I plan to visit family in the UK and travel by bicycle through Scotland, Ireland, France, and Spain. More details to follow....

Hugh.

Bus Blues

Bicycling through the mountains and across the steppe is a breeze. But, travel by bus with a bike and you enter a pythonesque world with a Spanish script. At the Buenos Aires bus terminal I played an hour long game of snakes and ladders as i followed directives from bus officials. Twice I took the fully-loaded bike down flights of stairs and once up a flight of stairs and once up an escalator. At San Julian they refused to take the dismantled bike, even though the rear of the bus is for freight.

Patagonia Unplugged

Wind, long stretches without water and heavy truck traffic made biking Ruta 3 up the Atantic coast too much of a challenge. My first stop was at Puerto San Julian. Magellan, Drake and Darwin all touched shore here. This little town would be perfect, with it´s speedbumps instead of traffic lights and a main street of single story bungalows. But, by midday I had to shelter in my tent from the gale force winds. Rose at 3.30am to get fifty km in by noon. At times I was pushing the bike downhill. Whirlygigs of dust rose vertically in the distance and then shot across the landscape horizontally. Suddenly the bike and I were lifted off the road and carried in the air, like plastic garbage, and dumped twelve feet away in a mangled heap. I hitched a ride in a Ford Ranger. The speedometer held steady at 140km until the next town 4 hours away. Bus ride a few hundred km north To Trelew. I´d lost track of the date. The explosions started early evening and between midnight and 2am on Christmas Day there was a heavy fireworks bombandment on all sides. The campsite the next morning was covered in a low cloud of smoke from the grills roasting slaps of beef. Smell of burning flesh filled the air. Next stop was Puerto Madryn, more wind, dust and a monster cruise ship tied to the pier. Ride the bus to Buenos Aires and then biked south to the perfect hidaway in the sun. Chascomus is a former cowtown with cobble streets and a ramshackle 1950s look and feel. Best of all the temps are in the high 20s, the vegation green and almost sub tropical and no wind.