This is not the beginning, not even the end of the beginning but the beginning of the end

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With bleary eyes and smooth tail and a long trip ahead we saddled up and got the Chariot going, the infernal device aka the GPS and I had differnt opinions on which way to go, the device wanted us to go up on the ramp onto the motor way a good idea if there had been a ramp!So using commonsense and a good ol' fashioned map we finally got on it.

We we're immediately taken to the cleaners by the first pay station.

The road rolled on and the mountains that had been close were suddenly all around us, snowy peaks looming ahead, green vineyards here and there and nice clean air again.

Having left the motor way we thought that the licensed bandits at the pay stations were history but alas not, they managed another attack at my, by this time, rather light purse.

Last thing was to fill the Chariots tank and get some water soon we would be in Argie..

The road wound higher and higher not so high as in the Paso de Jamas but high enough serpentine roads are fun when the traffic is light and the view is also nice as you look down into the vallies.

Motorbike heaven indeed.

Some long and boring tunnels took us under the funniest parts.

We pass Aconcagua, this time cloudless and there's something about a six km+ high mountain,majestic maybe?

No Chilean exit but a combined Chilean and Argie custom passport and general whatchamacallit.

A long queue later, about three hours or so saw us in Argie.

I have a theory about passport control and customs down in SA it goes as follows:

There must be someone who has told everyone to work as slowly as possible,to take your time to look at every page in the passport and then give it to the person next to you so that they an do the same, and then look at it again, have a sip of coke and look at it again. And do it SLOWLY get your stamp out and look at it before you stamp the passport, have a look at the entrance form so that it's filled out properly, and then double check to make sure. Deforestation is caused by all the blo.dy entrance forms that you have to fill in at every border crossing. I wonder what they do with all the forms? They're too small and too stiff to use as toilet paper...

Ah yes take a quick go at facebook in between the foreigners as well, but maybe I was mistaken maybe there is some kind of customs spread sheet that looks like facebook.

And then some fat tart with her hair brylcreamed down wants to check your boot to see if you have any semen(?) yes the import of semen is illegal and firearms as well.

Well I managed to sneak by with my own little stash of semen.

And so on and so forth, the goal must be that as few as possible in the longest time possible.

Thankfully they have military to keep the cars in a couple of orderly queues I can imagine the definition of mayhem would be a long line of cars outside the passport and customs control and everyone wants to get in first and trying to jump the queue and honking horns as well.

A few armed guys keep the peace rather well.

Finally we're out in the open and on the road again,we pick up a couple of German boys on a one year trip around SA. They envy us the car and I envy their year and total lack of stress.

Always the same, when you have the time you don't have the money and vice versa, you should be able to get an advance on your pension and then work another year or so,but thenagain there's a certain charm i working your behind off to get the money and then to live cheaply and see as much as possible for as long as possible.

We're stopped at a checkpoint further down the road and as our papers say that we're two persosn travelling in the car but there are four inside the soldier immediately demands everyones papers.

The boys don't have anything with them and tell the guard that their stuff is down in the camping and they have not been to Chile.

In SA and as in many other places in the world they demand ID and want you to carry it around at all times.

The boys get told off and sit there muttering about German spies, maybe they smuggle semen as well.

On the Argie side of the Andes it starts to effing rain two weeks in Chile and not a drop,not that the weather's been hot or even warm but no rain, strange weather indeed.

We drop the boys off and hustle down the road towards Lujan de Cuyo alittle town we had stayed in before nad where I had the best chicken ever save for some tandoori in Georgetown.

A long and winding road later finds us in Lujan, it's sunday and there are a few sunday drivers out, some are problably blind judgeing from how they drive, no foreign semen but ok to drive if you're blind.

We find the place with the good chicken and as it's an "artistic"hotel as well we get a room there.

The cook promises to produce the lovely chicken when we come back from a stroll around town to get the circulation going and maybe even a beer or two.

One thing I found out about the rest of the country ie Argie outside the capital is that all the old cars end up there, some horrible old bangers can be found out there but it's better than walking.

You have an old heap and no money so what do you do to tart it up, very simple take of the rear silencer so it sounds sporty, loud cars save lives, you can hear them before they hit you and jump to salvation.

Anyway you have performed your silencerectomy and how do you show your mates and the rest of the world?

You drive up and down high street reving it when ever possible, if you're lucky you might even be able to make the wheels give a brief squeak as you let up the clutch at the red light.

If you don't have the money to get a car get a motorbike put a big bad assed silencer on it and follow your mates and try to make as much noise as possible.

The cooks is a liar and a cheat!!!!

The chicken is not even close to what it was last time,now it's just fried chicken the first time it was sublime, bastard.

I very disappointed indeed and to make things worse the wine is not very good either, hrumph!!

A long day takes its toll of man and machine , time to let the bed be used for its intended purpose.

We've been thinking of going to Cordoba but the weather is iffy so after mucho thinking we decide to go to San Luis which is on the road to Baires.

Half the town is shut off and naturally it's the part we want to go to cops and blue lights, sirens and long queues They have som kind of bicycle competition so they just close the place down for a while, well why not, the weather is not our friend and son it pisses down with torrential vigour.

Nice to have a car when you try to find somewhere to stay or eat when the sky opens up its sluices, maybe I should take off the slincer and go for a spin with the other boys.

Anyway the streets are more like rivers than streets the drains don't seem to be working at all, a canoe would've been nice or at least some gum boots.

I think this must be the first city where they tried out the neutron bomb, there's not a soul in sight. just us and a wet town.

After an uninspirng lunch we decide to get the hell outta Dodge, the weather forecast had told us that the weather would be nice in Baires, intercourse sight seeing in we and cold weather. lets go home.

Well it's N's home and my away from home, Vicuna Mackenna is 'bout halway to Baires let'srock'n roll.The tank is full and it will be enough to get us to Baires at least I hope so.

The leap to Vicuna M is a slow leap as the traffic is slowed down by the bike race and we're going on a motorway the "no bicycles" on the entrance to the motor way means as much here as in Chile, nothing ,zilch ,nada.

A Swedish cop would give birth to kttens if he/she saw a bicycle on a motor way.not to mention what would happen if there was a bike race.

The race stop as we leave San Luis province and enter into ( blank space) province.

The Pampa is as flat as nature can make it, which is very flat and very boring, a cruise contol, a cruise control a kingdom for a cruise control,my right legs goes numb fromkeeping the acceleartor in the same position for hours,the only breaks are the toll stations where one is not as opposed to Chile taken to the cleaners, 5 pesos or so every hour.

Vicuna Mackenna is a little city in the midst of utter flatness,an ever present plaza a church and some roads and 8 different places to stay, but as it turns out, not even one place where you can have a well deserved beer.

Damned and blasted.

We infiltrate the chinese supermarket and get some liquid refreshment and a bag of snacks and get back to the hotel just before the rain catches up with us, did I ever mention that the weather hadn't been on our side?

The plonk turns out to be off, with a strange taste of ozelot's spleens,N being a good girl gets out her umbrella and trots back to the chinese to get a new bottle.

There's no guttering on the roof and as the rain increases we're forced to go indoors as the big drops splatter us when they hit the narrow lane that goes along the building, and the water cascades down from our roof and the building on the other side of the lane three meters away.

This plonk is nice though and we sit and wait for the rain to cease and look at motorbike ads on the net.

The rain stll hangs from a very low and depressing sky as it gets dark and time for dinner, only one or two places open so we take the Chariot and surprise suprise we have quite a nice dinner with a very nice steak for me, at least after the second try.

If I, when asked how I want my meat, tell them to knock of the horns and wipe the arse it means that and not medium rare or well done.

So the first one goes out the next one is just what I wanted, barely luke warm on the inside,yummy.

The only thing left to do is to sleep.

Not to many pics methinks that our photografer was abit lazy on this stretch ;-D

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