The Carretera Austral and nearly the end of the road.

The Good News


Always good to start with the good news I think - Ushuaia, what a disappointment. It my be the most southerly city in the world and the start point of overland and Antarctica journeys, but it has little else going for it. Over priced, rough around the edges and staffed by people who know you have no option by to pay up or get out – it could almost be London. So after two rain and sleet sodden days I was glad to head out of Dodge and start the real journey – To Alaska! There are going to be more miles than I first expected, the best estimate at present is that I have 24,000 miles to go, on top of the 4000 or so already completed, quiet amazing when you think the circumference of the planet is only 24,000 miles.

I had a few days rest in the town of Rio Grande, an opportunity to check the bike over and get some laundry done, there are some long days riding ahead and I want everything feeling right. The group is all going it separate ways from this point, most are heading towards Buenos Aires, while Axel and I are going to travel onwards together, as we are both hoping to be in Colombia for the end of February, when we know we can catch a boat over to Panama, an old sailing boat that takes 6 days to do the crossing and stops off at various islands in the Caribbean along the way. Right now in windy Patagonia and no doubt Europe that sounds like absolute heaven, but it’s a long way from here and there will be many bridges to cross before that will be a reality.

We left the island of Tierra del Fuego, which is divided in half by Chile and Argentina, crossing the Magellan Straits at its closest point to the mainland by the ferry service that was much shorter than the 3 hours on the way over. On the mainland we discovered an almost ghost town settlement , the remains of an old Estancia and its wool mills straddling the coast. To add to the eerie ambiance, there were the rusting hulks of two shipwrecks on the shore, it was the perfect Patagonian scene and a photographers dream. We set up camp in a nearby wood and waited for sunset to get the best light. If there is anything I will remember Patagonia for, its skies. Vast expanses , uninterrupted for more miles than you can calculate, with every conceivable cloud formation present at the same time. But tonight we were treated to a fantastic light show, the likes of I have never seen before, as the sky seemed to glow with effervescent light as the sun past towards the horizon. There was an almost magical glow to the sky, I hope that my photos do it at least some justice, it will certainly live with me for many years.

Once back across the border in to Argentina we hit the Ruta 3, which is the main artery back up to BA. Argentina has, I’m afraid to say, a lot of very dull and uninteresting landscape, flat desert like country, with nothing to keep you interested in your many hours in the saddle, except the omnipresent side wind that roars across the plans, brought down from the Andes hundreds of miles way by the rising air of the desert and always trying to blow you off the road. Passing through windblown town after windblown town, you have to wonder what brought people here in the first place, its dry, barren with ill tempered weather, what was the attraction, work, land, money, who knows, I was just pleased to be only passing through. We only took one detour, to the town of Pueto Santa Cruz, to photograph the penguin that live on the beach, there are friendly little fellows and allow you to get quite close before seeking safety in the water.

We entered Chile again at the town of Chile Chico on the banks of South Americas largest lake, Lago General Carrera and without doubt the most stunning lake I have ever seen. Not only is it huge, but its colour of iridescent turquoise and surrounded by snow capped mountains make it striking in beauty. The road around it was at dirt, but good riding, and even with this it still took us 2 days to ride only half way around it – finally we were on the Carretera Austral, Chile’s answer to all the great road trips of the world. 10 years in the building during the rein of the dictator Pinochet in an attempt to link the whole of Chile, in part he succeeded. The road is cut through tree covered and snow capped mountains, next to roaring rivers and isolated farmhouses. Until this road was built in the 1980`s the only form of transport was the horse and for many people that has remained the same today. Cattle being driven down the road by Gauchos is a common site, however the site of a few very large heffers getting extremely close to your bike is none to reassuring. We had one day of rain - which whilst not good for the scenery, came as a reminder of how quick the weather can change in this part of the world – on the way to the state capital of Coyhaique. I frontier town set on a plan surrounded by the towering mountains and a hotch potch of buildings and perhaps the best supermarket I have seen in months. After 7 days in the saddle the chance for a rest and to dry out the gear was welcome. A day here was enough and we headed back out on to the Carretera, just in time for the skies to open and get another drenching. We sort shelter in a small fishing town in a hovel of a guest house with a hype active Senora at its helm, who bombarded us with Spanish even when we repeatedly informed her that we only spoke the basics and who chased us around with a dust pan and brush in case we dropped any dirt on the floor!

The next day started bright and sunny, so we loaded the bikes and hit the road, all was good for the first 35 miles, then the rain started, gentle drizzle at first, but the clouds grow more dense and more menacing as the road climbed in to the mountains, finally realising there contents upon us as we rode through tight valleys bursting with waterfalls, crystal clear streams and lush plant life. I though we had done the worse of it as we rode over a beautiful mountain pass, flanked by glaciers on both side, then as we descended, rain fell and the wind blow a howler, branches and leaves whistled passed our heads and small rivers formed on the road, this was defiantly not what I had signed up for.

The road turned to mixture of slick mud, shale and rock and by Christ it was cold. The road trailed next to a Fjord with Salmon farms stretched along its length and at its end a small town that looked like an oasis in a desert and the thought of a roaring fire and a hot chocolate was in sight. That is if you can find anything open, never a certainty in this part of the world. Of course the towns most expensive hotel was open and at this point I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of this appalling weather.

Safely inside we squeezed the water out of our riding gear and put our feet up in front of an open log fire, as for the hot chocolate, no chance, our host was a frumpy old German battle-axe of a women, who looked like she had been born with a lemon in her mouth and upset to see the demise of national socialism.

The following day brought only slightly better weather as we continued along the Carretera Austral, and enjoy the limited view of the scenery that the breaks in the clouds permitted. The road started to have a lot more large stones and this was causing problems for me with my mainly road tyres . We stayed at the town La Junta, just to get out of the rain, a dank little town of rotting wooden houses , with roads made of mud and big puddles, it was a shear delight to stay in!

By the next day we at last had some blue sky and rode through the last of the CA as we were due to turn off towards the Futaleufu valley and over in to Argentina the following day. Chilean Patagonia is without doubt one of the prettiest places on earth, but the one of the reasons for this is the is the huge amount of rain that it receives and unfortunately we caught it at one of those times you just couldn't escape it, but I would definitely like to come back at some stage , rent a house and go fishing in the pristine lakes and rivers that are everywhere.

We rode up the Futa valley , at last dry and followed the banks of one of South Americas most famous white water rivers, gushing dark azul blue through the valley and frothing white over the rocks and trees that litter its course. When spent the night at a friends house and enjoyed a great home cooked meal with a few bottles of Chilean red and being molested by his month old puppy ,Princessa.

Back in to Argentina we were back on paved roads, for what seemed an age, so we opened up the throttles and eat up some mileage, covering 500 miles, through the lake district, to the town of Junin de los Andes, arriving at 10.30pm and in need of a good nights sleep. The following day was the 24th, so I hooked up to the internet and did some important calls, obviously if I did not call you that speaks for its self! We had a slap up BBQ than night at our campsite by a river and went to bed early as we wanted to push on the following day.

What a way to spend Christmas Day, than riding your bike in perfect clear sunshine on totally empty roads? Well I can think of quite a few actually, but given the circumstances it was a pretty cool day. So Christmas night was spent at a dusty hole of a town called Chos Malal, I doubt it will ever win an prizes from a tourist board, I assure you I don't intend to spend my next Xmas night in such a place.

And the bad news

The 26th of December brought another big mileage day as we wanted to make it through to Mendoza, as this has the only BMW dealer until I reach central America and the old girl needs some TLC after all I have put her through. It was getting late in the day and we had another 2 hour to go, I didn`t even have time to break when I dog ran across the road and I hit it square on. The dog went straight to doggy heaven and the next thing I knew I was sliding along on my back watching my bike sliding on its right hand side before the tyres caught the road and it somersaulted in a great cloud of dust.

Fortunately I always wear body armour, which at times seems over kill, but now I know it is worth wearing, as after sliding down the road from around 50 or 60mph I only had a scratch on my elbow, nothing else, but even now I think myself lucky, it could have been so much worse, I used up one of my lives yesterday, my shirt was ripped to shreds, but all my safety gear did exactly what it is supposed to do and I quietly thanked myself for investing in good equipment. I still bounce quite well for an old man.

The bike however looked a mess , everything has a dent , scratch or tear on it, one pannier was hanging off, the handle bars had bent in to the fuel tank and the clutch master cylinder was ripped off. Put it this way, it will take more than a can of T-Cut to make her look new again. The Police came along and asked to see my passport and if I wanted to go to hospital, but as nothing was hanging off of me I thought better of going to rural Argy hospital.

A kindly local offered to take the bike on to our destination, so we sent about loading the very bent bike on to an ancient Dodge pick up.The whole thing caused an absolute stir with the local, for whom it was more likely the biggest event all year. Bike loaded we set off for Mendoza again, me in the pick-up and Axel following behind, by this time the adrenaline had worn off and the reality did kick in of how close you are to danger all the time riding a bike and the more miles you do the narrower the odds become, but that has always been the case and its one of the reasons I ride bikes, its a strange mixture of fun and fear and there are few things in life that give you the freedom of two wheels.

The journey was not straight forward as this is South America, the old Dodge was clearly getting on its last legs and half way in to town the thing just packed up, I had visions of being stranded yet again with a fucked bike and a broken down truck. However a bit of fiddling with the extremely dangerous looking electrics got us moving again and we limped in to town arriving at our hostel at midnight, from a start of 8 am, not the Boxing day I want next year either.

I have been stripping her down today to see what the actual damage is beyond the cosmetic and at the moment I am surprised at how well the bike has dealt with such abuse. I am having it picked up by the BMW dealer on Monday for a proper assessment, but with luck it will not be too painful and the journey will continue.

Happy 2009 and my it be better for us all, hasta luego.

Arriving in Ushuaia - the end of the world!

After just over 4000 miles I have eventually arrived in Ushuaia, the most southerly city in the world! The route here has been on the legendary Ruta 40, legendary because its nearly all dirt road, rough and through the wind swept plans of Argentinian patagonia and when I say wind swept you have to reconsider what you believe to be windy. Patagonia is famous for its constant winds that howl down off the Andes mountains, as I have been heading south, this means a constant strong cross wind, that at times is bordering on the violent. Most nights I have been camping out as they have great camping facilities hear in Argentina and in neighbouring Chile, which I have just spent a few days in. I have been graced with great weather, so it has been a pleasure to do so, the nights have become longer as I have progressed south and its now light until past 11pm.

The riding has been at times quite slow as I try to manhandle my 325kg beast over the rock strewn roads, but the toughest days riding was left to the last day on Ruta 40, when the wind really picked up to gale force. The weather down here is totally unpredictable and I woke to the sounds of my tent flapping loudly in the wind. I had camped that night at an Estancia, which are small farms where you can spend the night; get some food, shelter and a shower. It was built in a hollow, but even that couldn’t protect it from the elements today. I was riding with Axel and we both headed out with a certain trepidation that morning as it was a 300km ride to the next town of El Chalten, the home of the Fitzoy mountains, a range of spires standing 2500 meters proud of the surrounding land.

The wind pushed the bikes with such force that it was easy to end up on the wrong side of the road. Normally you can just steer against this, but with loose stones under your tyres this felt like riding on marbles. To make matters worse, 4x4 that and trucks make deep piles of stones that you have to ride between and if you get blown in to these, there is a very good chance of coming off, not something you want to do in the middle of now where, with no medical facilities or replacement parts for hundreds of miles.

180km took us 7 hours and we were both exhausted by the relentless wind, even when which made stopping difficult as there was a real chance of the bikes being blown off there stands. We arrived at the dust blown town of Tres Lagos where we could refuel with petrol and some extremely over priced food, but at this point I really didn’t care, I just wanted a feed and to get out of the wind. It felt like pure bliss just not to have your body battered by the elements and relax for a while. We felt so comfy in that dust fuel stop that we took an hour and a half just eating empanadas and drinking coffee, god it felt good.

We now had 120km to go on sealed tarmac, which felt like pure heaven, we open up the bikes and relaxed – but not for long. The wind was still strong, but much easier to handle on tar. As we rode along, the elements had a few more surprises to throw at us, as we saw the sky darken and the temperature dropped rapidly as we headed in to the mountains and towards the glaciers. First it rained and finally sleeting, this was such a vast contrast to the dry almost dessert landscape that we had ridden through for the rest of the day. We arrived in to town shivering and extremely keen to get in to a warm guesthouse. Options were limited, but any port in a storm. A hot shower and some good pizza is a great way to make you feel better and put the days efforts behind you, we where both broken from the day though, I would put the mental and physical efforts of today up there with an ride I have ever done. As we made our way back to the guesthouse it began to snow properly – Patagonia, all the seasons in one day.

After a days rest we hiked up to see the spires of Fitzroy, beautiful granite formations surrounded by eerie looking dry forest full of weather beaten trees that grow in the direction of the fierce wind, run though with crystal clear streams that are feed from the glaciers that are still shaping the surrounding mountains. Hiking is not a form of exercise that I enjoy, even though I love my exercise and you are surrounded by great nature, I just don’t enjoy the sensation or effort of it, so after 4 hours of upward effort I resolved to make this my last hike. After taking a shed load of photos, we started our hike down, which was made increasingly difficult, as I seemed to have a sharp pain in my left shin, which got steadily worse as I descended. It ended up taking me 5 hours to hobble down, with each step making my resolve to never hike again more ingrained. Naked and sore I easy the pain with some quality Argentinean whisky, a pleasure never to be missed, that is said with extreme sarcasum.

On the way out of town we meet up with Martin and Lauren, who ridden in a different direction to get some work done on their bike. There had hooked up with 3 Ozzies riding on Kawasaki 650`s. We had a catch up and all headed out of town towards El Calafate and the giant glacier of Perito Moreno, 6 bikes and 8 people, it was all becoming quite a road train. Perito Moreno is 30km long, 5km wide and 60 metres high, but what makes it exceptional in the world of ice is its constant advance – up to 2m per day , causing building-sized icebergs to calve from its face. This is not just a sight for the eyes, but also an experience for the ears as the ice cracks and groans in front of you, all shades of blue and white mixed together as the unstoppable force of nature is working in front of you, it is truly a beautiful sight to behold and makes you consummately aware of how insignificant we are and how short our lives are in the scheme of time as ice that is thousands of years old floats of in the lake.

Our road train then headed for Chile and the Parque National Torres del Paine, home to yet more beautiful granite towers of the Andes, these are the mountains that you will see in every ,magazine article on Patagonia, shaped like the teeth of a giant saw, there stand at 10,000 ft, while you stare up at them from 150ft, quite impressive.

No hiking for me as my leg had become worse from the previous efforts and had swollen badly, causing me to have to change gear with my heel as I could not flex my foot. Kate, out team physio diagnosed it as a inflamed muscle tendor connection and I was ordered to rest with my foot elevated, I had no problem with this , as the other hiked off, I relax with a book in the sun and feeling the energy from the surrounding wilderness. The Torres dominate the surrounding area and every where you ride you can seen then standing high above the land, snow capped in the sunshine and reflecting in the mirror like lakes.

Next stop was the port town of Puerto Natales and my first glimpse of the sea for quite a time. We treated out selves to some drinks in the town’s only boutique hotel, with great views over the sound and a glorious sunset, a contrast to our wind campsite. We made our way to Punta Arenas to catch the ferry across the Straits of Magellan to the island of Tierra del Fuego, to be told that the ferry was sold out for the next 4 days, we could however try to hang out at the dock and see it we could get a cancellation fro the evening crossing. Six bikes don’t take up too much room even with panniers and tents and bags, so we managed to squeeze on board for the 3 hour crossing of one of the roughest stretches of water in the world. Lady luck was shinning on us that evening and we sailed across smooth open water with out incident, arriving on the bleak island as the sun started to sink glowing orange and red. For such a harsh environment, the people live in extremely flimsy house, constructed of nothing more than corrugated tin and hardboard, with only single glazed windows and ill fitting doors that let in every draft, god knows what its like in winter when you have to survive constant gails and freezing temperatures, then get up in the morning to head out to sea, it makes you appreciate how easy we have back in England and other western nations.

The following day we crossed the island on dirt road that hugged the rugged coast line, air fresh with the smell of the sea, shingle beached with shanty style huts and fishing boats pulled up high to stop the sea pulling them back to the surf. It was surprisingly warm and we where blessed with a tail wind that made riding easy and enjoyable. We crossed the border to the Argentinean side of the island, where everything is at least 30% cheaper and spent the night in the industrial town of Rio Grande at a great hostel. The others camped in the gardens, but I needed a bed tonight, so crashed in a dorm, that I had to myself, its amazing how luxurious this scant room seemed, £8 well spent to have a mattress and a warm blanket and no tent flapping all night. The hostel had a huge kitchen and we did a communal spaghetti Bolognese, always an easy way to entertain the troops.

Leaving town we where hooted and cheered by locals as our train of bikes headed out towards Ushuaia, for some of us it is our final destination, for some mid way and for me and Axel, just the starting point, as we are both heading to North America. The Argentinean side of TDF is very different to the Chilean side, which is barren , flat and treeless, we were now surrounded by tree-covered mountain, more reminiscent of Canada than anything I had seen so far. We headed through the mountains on lovely paved roads all excited to be reaching a huge milestone – Ushuaia, the world’s most southerly city – and a mecca for overland travellers that drive and ride across the Americas.

At the entrance to town there is a large wooden sign informing you of such, which I am sure features in everyone journey photo album. We stopped for the obligatory photo shoot then headed in to this town that is the starting point for any one venturing over to the Antarctica on the many vessels that now ply these waters. Its might be the most southerly city in the world, however is has little else going for it, windswept and over priced is really a better description, however, it is cause for celebration and after finding our campsite – yes I am camping in the southern most city in the world, little option actually as all the hostels are full – we cracked open some ice cold beers and sat in the sun overlooking the Beagle Channel, where Charles Darwin first sail up over two hundred years previous.

I feel relieved to finally be here, but this is literal the start of my journey, from now on its all north and a long long way. I’m sitting currently in a warm café, as it has rained all night and the forecast is the same for tomorrow, not the best thing when in a tent or a motorbike or you desperately need to do some laundry and I do. We are planning a big feast tonight in out camp kitchen and some red wine to keep out the chill, while dreaming of sun soaked beached in distant lands.

As I finish writing this, it has just started to snow – bollocks!

Mendoza to the lake district.

I spent 10 days in Mendoza, unfortunately not wine tasting as I had intended, but laying in bed and going to doctors with yet another chest infection, a nice little souvenir from my travels in Africa. My friend Cecilia never made it over as she has problems with her bike, so on Saturday 8th Nov I headed out of town , pleased to be on the road and moving south at last. Its 2000 miles down to Ushuaia and that is the really starting point, this really is a long journey.

The first stretch of road was fine, but after 30 miles the Ruta 40, the road that I want to follow down, turned to dirt and very badly corrugated. Not that hard to ride on, but bloody uncomfortable, just a series of ripples in the surface that promise to rattle the teeth out of your head. When, after 5 hours, I eventually found tarmac again, I was sorely tempted to get off the bike and kiss it, it felt smoother than a cashmere codpiece.

I stayed the night in some flee pit town called Malargue, where you couldn't get a morsel to eat before 8.30pm, as I arrived at 5pm having found no where to get lunch, this was not what I wanted to hear I can tell you, especially with my healthy appetite.But all the bars were open!

The next day I set off early to get moving before the heat took hold. The road was 50% dirt and 50% tarmac, normally without rime or reason, you just come around a corner and the road evaporates to stone and shale, it certainly sharpens the senses. The scenery was arid and desert like and as I came towards my stop over, almost lunar, strange rock formations carved by occasional rain and a lot of wind. The town of Chos Malal appeared like an oasis, green and lush in the harsh desert that surrounds it, giving the weary traveller some shade and a place to rest his head for the night. The reality is that its a dusty old town with a sprinkling of hotels for people to overnight in on there way south, the sight of a heavily laden BMW motorcycle pulling in to town raised a few eye brows, but most locals where just resting on a tree in the shade, avoiding doing too much.

The next days ride was fantastic, great sealed roads all day long, a town to stop for lunch and at last some trees and greenery. As I pulled off Ruta 40 towards my stop for a couple of days, Junin de los Andes, the terrain changed to lush green fields, rivers , hills, lakes and meadows.I love deserts, but riding in to such splendid countryside, only came as a reminder of how much more alive I fell when surrounded by green nature, another reason that I don't want to live in London anymore. I camped for the first time on this trip at an idyllic camp site , on an island in the middle of the river, within walking distance of town, it was perfect. I set up camp, got the stove out, the fire lit and dinner on the go, it felt great, total independence.

The next day I relaxed in the sun and stretched my aching body with some yoga, it was good to move after a few days in the saddle. Later in the afternoon a couple of other bikers turned up, Martin and Lauren from South Africa and Axel from Germany. We shared a BBQ together and a few biking stories. The follow day we headed out to the Parque National Lanin to get closer to the area dominating Volcan Lanin. A 3500 meter monster of a volcano that has held sway over the life of this area for thousands of years. As the surrounding area is only around 700 to 1000 metres, it gives you an idea of how impressive this site is. The guys stayed out at the park, but I had packed light and left my stuff at the campsite, so returned for the night, but we agreed to meet up the following morning as we where all heading in the same direction.

We headed out on dirt road to do a circuit called the seven lakes, well that doesn't take a lot of explanation, but lets just say it was beautiful. Massive crystal clear lakes surrounded my snow capped hills, it takes a lot of beating. We camped out by one of the lakes, just pulling off the road and setting up camp, now that is freedom. The nights are now starting to get cool as I get further south and you could feel it as the sun went down the layers went on, sitting around the fire, you all start to get slowly closer to the flames.

The following day saw more great dirt road, stunning landscapes and beautiful lakes, its hard to come up with more expletives to describe these sights, so I am glad that I can add photos for you to be able to see some of this for yourselves. We arrived at the plush town of Villa la Angostora, where you could get a descent cup of coffee at the many street side cafes. West booked in to a first class campsite, the Argies do like to camp and its a pleasure to stay the night at there sites, especially a hot shower. The next day we all just relaxed and did some checking over of the bikes, Axel has been on the road for 2 years 8 months, so his Africa Twin is, lets say, well run in.

More BBQ and red wine finished off the day and helped to keep us warm through the night, just as well as we woke to find frost on the tents and bikes, a clear reminder that we are now at the same latitude as Tasmania and we still have 1200 miles to go further south to Ushuaia!

We headed out of town after drying off the tents in the welcome warmth of the morning sun, for a leisurely ride to the very "twee" town of Bariloche, where every second shop is a chocolate shop and if it was not for the absence of watch shops and the odd Bentley, you could easily be in Switzerland.

So this is where I am now writing to you, enjoying the vista over the lake and consulting maps of the route south. Tomorrow we leave for El Bolson and then to Esquel, this will all be tarmac, but after that the real dirt road starts and the legendary Patagonia weather. The next up date should be from way down south, where I will be wearing my thermals 24/7 and tying string to my willy so that I can still find it.

Hasta la vista. Stu x

Buenos Aires to Mendoza

After 10 days in BA and spending 20 hours in Spanish school, of which I believe I have retained less than 5%,it was eventually time to head out of town to my first port of call, Mendoza, the wine capital of Argentina at the base of the Andes mountains. Many of you may know that I am quite badly dyslexic (and no that is not a anagram for thick, before the smart arses out there suggest it is!) so I found going back in to a class room a distinctly intimidating process. It is clear to me that if I am ever to try and learn a language again, I most conquer this issue first.

For those of you that have herd that BA is a throbbing metropolis of fashion and style, I'm sorry to disappoint you. The fashion looks like it has come straight from the rejects section at Primark and as for the rumours of the place teaming with stunning beauties, well I was highly disappointed. What it has got in bucket loads is great night life, but as long as you like eating at 10.30pm and going on the town at 12 midnight, is a real strange set up. The people are though extremely sociable and friendly. Everyone seems to be out at night having a wine or a coffee, just to catch up with friend. Beats rushing home to watch some shite on TV. The one exception for this is when a big game of futbol is on, usually Saturday afternoon. This then keeps EVERYONE glued to the TV. For those who can`t afford the cable channel that show the live game, there is another channel that shows live pictures of the crowd, no football, just the crowd, so you can get the atmosphere, unbelievable!

I left BA at around 11am on Monday 27th and what should have been a relative easy ride out of town quickly turned in to a mission of one way streets and u turns, but using my radar like sense of direction, which is fortunate that I possess as I can ask for the road that I require, but not understand the response. I eventually pick up Ruta 7 after around an hour , the sun is shining the sky is clear, I crank up the ipod that's loaded with classic rock track and just kick back and let the miles roll. Not a bad way to spend a Monday.

I saw my first wild Flamingos as I cross the large saline Largo La Picasa, standing out in vivid pink against the darkening evening sky. The whole of my journey to Mendoza would be the same, dead straight, not the most imaginative start, but its the way to the mountains and the real beauty of the country. I spent the night at a small town called Loboulaye, rather ordinary, but a decent enough hotel and there where some restaurants were I could eat some of Argentina's great food. That is said with a certain irony, as this consist of either grilled meat served with chips, or something made from ham and cheese. I would never have thought that you could fill a menu with ham and cheese!

Tuesday saw a change in the weather, it had now started to rain, which it would do all day and it had turned cold, what a difference a day makes. Lunch stop was a real treat though, a proper truck stop, in the middle of a wind blown plain, my bike being dwarf by these huge 18 wheelers. A salad bar! Bloody hell I haven't seen one of these before and in a truck stop, sheer luxury and I have to say the largest BBQ I have ever seen, at least 10FT wide, with huge slabs of beef being roasted over slow burning logs, I just couldn't resist. You certainly don`t get this on the M1.

Stuffed and ready to hit the road again, I donned my waterproofs for more rain, ending the day at the town of San Luis. Feeling wind blown and damp, I dried off in my hotel and watch an awful movie subtitled in Spanish. I had a lie in the following day as it was a relatively short ride to Mendoza.

Leaving at 11am, I headed out in to a crisp sunny day on Ruta 7 , kicking back an listening to some chill out tunes on the ipod. I arrive at Mendoza at around 3.30pm and find a suitable guest house. Unfortunately everywhere is pretty busy and I have t say expensive, so I settle for a dorm room, which I am sharing with a rather strange girl from Korea, who is back packing with everything in pink and continually plays games on her Iphone, if she was 18 I would expect this ,but she is 35!

So I have covered 650 miles of dead and I mean real dead flat and straight road, I am now at the foot of the Andes, the longest mountain range in the world at 5400km. Time to explore and see what all the fuss is about, I ventured up to the Chilean border and took in the sites, of snow capped mountains and scenery very similar to that of Ladakh in northern India, in fact I discovered today that the area I road through was used for the filming of the Brad Pitt movie "Seven Years in Tibet" crap film but good cinematography.

It was good to get out on to some real roads and get to grips with the bike again, I feel extremely happy with the modifications that I have done and the work (and expense) that I have put in to her, it felt like putting on an old pair of jeans, everything just seems so easy and right!

So now I am waiting for my travel buddy, Cecilia to arrive on her bike, which apparently is in desperate need of repair, before heading out down the Andes. In the meant time there is wine tasting to be done and I have found a yoga studio, I believe that is what they call Ying and Yang!

Hasta la vista. Stu x

The Old Girl has Landed!

Eventually I have been re-united with the BM, I collected her from BA airport this afternoon, with minimal fuss and very little cash passing hands, I'm pleasantly surprised.

So with papers signed and palms crossed, I headed out on to Argentina's motorways to navigate my way back in to town and try to find my hotel. Using my radar like sense of direction, I was back outside the gaff within 40 minutes, parked up and looking forward to a glass of fine red. A good days work if I do say so myself.

All I have to do now is finish my Spanish course. As you know I struggle with English, let alone another language!

Asta la vista.

Arriving In South America

So after many month planning I eventually got on a plane on Thursday 17th October. I of course left far too much until the last minute, spending the Wednesday running around like a blue arsed fly, getting the apartment all ready for its new occupants (who will fund the trip). On the Thursday morning I took a cycle ride out in to the Essex country side from my fathers house. It was a beautiful sunny day, the turning leaves looked glorious and it felt good to get some fresh country air in to my lungs after being in London for so long.

I dropped the bike of at the freight company last Monday, the usual no brain morons that have not got a clue what they are doing, there most be something about this industry, I am yet to deal with a shipping company that employs people with more than a single brain cell. The bike has now done 32,000 miles and I recon on doing another 22,000!



After the usual emotional goodbyes to my family I set of for Argentina, via Canada, for 23 hours of air/airport travel, God I really hate flying, why did anyone try to fool us that its glamorous?



So I am now in Buenos Aires suffering from jet lag and airplane food, to compensate I have indulged in some great Argentinean steak and a couple of glasses of red, good for the heart.



I believe the bike should arrive here on Wednesday 22nd, then all I have to do is get it cleared through customs - should be easy - yeah right! I`ll keep you informed on how my great Spanish skills work with the men in uniform and what its like mixing it with the famous drivers of Latin America in my next post, assuming I make it that is.

Getting Back on the Road Again

Well I'm sure not many of you will be surprised to hear that I'm off on the second leg of my journey around the world, this time I'm heading for South America. I really didn't come back to the UK in April with the intention of heading off so soon, the idea was to come back and get stuck in to a new new bike dealership. But the economy , as we all now has, thanks to the greedy banks, gone to rat shit and I think only the very foulhardy would embark on a new business venture at the moment. So I'm keeping the gunpowder dry and waiting for the situation to brighten slightly and be able to take advantage of some poor buggers misfortune.

So South America, the land of steak, wine tango and all sorts of other temptations. I'm heading first to Buenos Aires in Argentina, then I will be heading across country to the Andes, which I will fallow all the way to the bottom of the continent, then its all north, up through Chile, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador the finally Colombia. Once there the plan is to ship the bike to Panama, as there are no roads through an area know as the Darrien Gap, its just jungle infested with drug barons. Central America doesn't hold too much interest for me ,so it will be a dash up to Mexico, for some Mescal and faites, a little yoga and avoid getting robbed by the banditos that I'm told are around in certain areas. The route will take me p the west coast of the sates, with a slight detour to Colorado to see some friends of mine, as well as to trip to Yellowstone National park to see Yogi Bear, he does yoga doesn`t he? Then to Canada, through the Rockies and eventually Alaska, where I will be saying a big hello to Sarah `Shoot um up` Palin, who by then could be in control to all those nukes! Frightening.

The main goal is to get to the arctic circle. I will more than likely be in the middle of no where with no one to celebrate it with, but at least I will now I have been there, all the way on a bike - now were is that massage parlour?

So I have been putting a lot of effort and time in to the bike, which didn't fail me once on the first leg, however some issues have raised there head as I have dug deeper in to the old girl -

After 18,000 trouble free miles on the last trip, the BMW is showing signs of the stress and strains that it endued. The list of bits and pieces currently stands at -

• All front and rear bearing, inc telelever bearing and shaft unit
• Shaft drive unit (rear UJ had failed due to knacked bearing in the telelever) Blood expensive - oooouch!
• Replacement suspension (White Power - fully adjustable)
• Recovered and re profiled seat
• New tyres
• Alternator belt
• Brake pads all round
• New rear disc
• Full service and chassis check
• Touratech ceramic clutch
• Bearings everywhere
  

This time I am going equipped for the outdoors as I want to take advantage to the beauty of this continent , something that on the last journey was not always advisable due to the security situation. So I have - tent, down sleeping bag,cooking equipment, survival gear etc, etc, etc. Less room for home comforts, more room for essentials only. By essentials I do include a laptop this time, as communication with home is important when you are so far away - never forget your friends and family. Hopefully I will come across some entertaining times that I can relay, without getting thrown in jail this time. For now I`ll wish you all well and Adios Amigos!