Good Times and Bad Crimes

Well Malargue turned out to be quite a town with some very interesting sights. There was the Pierre Auger observatory, this place is not like your usual "lets look at the stars observatory", instead its a huge set of sensors set over 100,s sq kilometres which detect, measure and analyse ultra high energy rays from outer space. We pooped into the data collection centre where the receptionist promptly sent out of the long haired scientists to explain what the facility does and I wont bore you with the details. I did understand it fully..... honest, but the long haired scientist did speak quickly and I don't want to bog you down with details. Google it and let me know if you understand it. Still, it should be in everyone interest as tax dollars and pounds are taken from lots of countries to fund this programme.

Malargue also has a planetarium and we really wanted to see one of the shows so we bought ourselves a couple of tickets. The commentary was going to be in Spanish but we thought it would be interesting anyway. When we arrived for the 17:00 show we where the only ones in line and the only ones in the theatre so the planetarium operator switched the commentary to English just for Sandra and I. It was incredible. After the show he switched the planetarium to computer mode and took Sandra and I for a virtual tour of the known Universe. This was just astonishing, I had no idea we had plotted so much (or so little, depending on your point of view) of the universe. A really enlightening experience which kept Sandra and I in awe.... fantastic.

We had rented a cabin for the few days we where in Malargue and this gave us a chance for some more home cooking which now, so far into our journey, is something we really enjoy.

My mind was always on the next part of the trip. A lot of gravel road lay ahead of us as we made our way south. Still not fully over the confidence issues caused by Friday the 13th we set of south towards the Chilean border. This time I had done my home work and asked locals about the condition of the road. All glibly said it was fine, gravel yes, but no problem. I have come to know that the conditions are always worst than anyone will describe them so it was with high anticipation that we set of on the famous ruta 40 knowing we had 80 miles of gravel ahead of us.

The weather was good to start with and we did the first 20 miles on pavement, then the first stretch of gravel hit us. Now all this road once was tarmac but lack of funding makes maintenance impossible and the road switches from gravel to lumps of tarmac then gravel and sometimes our nemesis -sand - in the blink of an eye. You can always tell if we are anxious as Sandra and I hardly say a word to each other. I am acutely aware that Sandra's leg has not fully recovered from the Friday 13th off and I know one more spill would see maybe some more damage and potential an early end to the trip, so we went carefully and crossed the first 20 miles without a hiccup.

Crossing the Rio Grande miles from anywhere

The tarmac returned for about 40 miles, then the more serious gravel (can you get serious gravel?) started. This road at times just disappeared into a collection of rocks. I honestly cannot see how it can be classified as a road at all, still we persevered very carefully even having Sandra walk around some of the deep, and I mean axle depth sand we had to get through. At one point I even thought the weather would turn nasty


but it all held off for the duration. We had both learnt our lessons and together we made great progress and safely as well. The brand new tarmac started on the border of the next district and it was new and smooth and wonderful to ride on..... what a contrast..... but that's Argentina for you a land of contrast.

We went on to a little town called Barrancas a quiet little town with only gravel streets a small square two maybe three shops and a hostel. We filled up with fuel and decided to stay the night. We unpacked the bike, except for the tent gear on the back thinking it's a small town no one will steal that stuff, and headed for the showers and a cold beer. We met an interesting chap called Alberto who was a Geologist, originally a native Argentinian who is now a professor at a university in north America.

After this geology lesson from Alberto I became a professor myself

He was incredible interesting to talk to and was in town collecting rock samples from the surrounding volcanoes. He was happy to enlightene us on his work. Off to bed around 10:00 and up the next morning around 7:00.

I usually do a voice blog of the journey on a Dictaphone in the mornings and went out to check the shed for mileage for my report. I looked the bike over read the odometer and said what we did into the Dictaphone. It was only after I had finished that I had noticed the tent had been taken from the back of the bike.

Mortified I saw the hostel owner and asked them to call the police. This was our introduction to the Argentina criminal law system, something hopefully never to be repeated.

Not only did one copper turn out but a whole gaggle (what is the collective noun for police) of coppers turned out, taking statements and even looking for tracks on the ground.

Inspector Gomez of the Meter and his side kick Sargent El Lewis.

The owner of the Hostel looked on, a very worried man indeed and I was impressed that he cared so much but would find out later why he was looking so concerned. Anyway, I was dragged off to the local police station and fortunately Alberto came with me for translation purpose. Alberto proved to be a great help through all of this. Anyway, the top dog police chap typed out our statement on his Commodore 64 and asked both Alberto and I to sign it, It was all in Spanish so I could have been signing anything, but did it anyway. All very impressive to this point. Even the old Hostel owner was in the police station still looking very concerned for us...... or was he?

Inspector Gomez of the meter seemed confident there knew who had the swag at this point. Two well known lads, one under age, had been spotted near the bike at the time of this hideous crime. Great I thought, this is Argentina, send inspector Gomez around with some local cops put the frighteners on them and get my tent back...... eerrr no. We had to get a judges permission before anyone could talk to the younger of the alleged criminals We where asked to stay another day to enable the wheels of justice to turn and we agreed, being in no hurry what so ever.

Well to cut a long story short...ish the next day came and almost went, Sandra and I chilling until it was time to go to the station again in the afternoon. We were then told that the judge refused to sign any authorisation to question the alleged criminals as and I quote ?if we are wrong then it could have serious consequences for the old owner of the hostel in the way of reprisals? This meant the cops would do nothing and was clearly the reason the old man looked worried all day long. Not wanting to fuel any more fires than were already burning we gave up on the whole thing and chalked it down to experience. The next morning we left bright and early.

Now there are good things in everything. Without the weight of the tent , several sleeping bags , Thermorest mattresses., footprint, mossy net, pots and pans and pillows the shed became a well balanced bike, She was transformed and a joy to ride once more. It was a nice day and we cranked the old girl up and put her through her paces. A great confidence booster and I really enjoyed the ride to Las Lajas still on the famous ruta 40.

Another quiet little town some 30 miles east of the Chilean border, we decided to stay the night. It was a Sunday and we had about 15 minuets to check into the hostel and then finish some food shopping before the Supermarket closed . It was like supermarket sweep as Sandra and I flew around the store getting tuna, ham, cheese, bread , beer and wine for the evening's fine dining.

All this was a complete waste of time and money. As we got back to the hostel the landlord invited us into his home for a massive BBQ feast of Argentine meat and sausage including a favourite of mine, black pudding. We ate with his family and drank several bottles of fine wine, and although we had massive language problems we all got along really well and the afternoon slipped away nicely.

Our Host was upset that we did not have an Argentine sticker on the bike he went and got some for himself.

It's true to say that wherever we go we always encounter the kindness of strangers and its always a great experience.