This morning I saddled up, ready to cycle to San Antonio De
Areco in search of my inner gaucho (cowgirl). Rather than risking
my life on the shoulder of the national highway with a peleton of
trucks propelling me forward, I decided to take one of the smaller
roads. What I hadn't factored in was that there would be just as
many trucks on less road with only a few inches of shoulder to ride
on. 3.5 hours of wing mirror watching and on/off road cycling
turned out to be quite a stressful affair.
The road rules I quickly discovered:
One car or truck passing in either direction =
Two cars passing in opposite directions = Wobbly but
One car passing one way and a truck passing the other =
Get off the road
Two trucks passing me in both directions = Get off the
road and lean against a fence!
I seemed to get a toot every 30 seconds or so and they varied
from get-off-the-road honks to hey-sexy-loco-cycle-lady toot, toot,
toot, toots. Perhaps that's why the truck drivers got so close, so
they could kiss my cheek on the way past?
I was forced off the road on average about once a kilometre for
60km and was super thankful for the rear view mirror I picked up in
Buenos Aires. With the weight of the front pannier bags, each time
I look back I veer towards oncoming traffic and find myself like a
possum in the headlights.
It's now 35 degrees and 3pm in the afternoon and I've arrived at
El Puesto hostel which has been full of surprises. An Irishman
named Noel cooked me a potato stew and as soon as he heard I lived
in Dublin for three years, he invited me to the pub for one pint.
Lucky I've booked another night here as I've never seen an Irishman
go for just one pint.
Plus there's a swimming pool in the backyard to ease my gringo
sunburn. See the conversation below for an explanation of why they
call us prawns here...