Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink...
March 24th 2008 Having entrusted virtually all our clothing to some unfortunate to launder, we left San Jose de Jachal, the cleanest, most neatly-pressed cyclists that you could hope to meet - a futile gesture, if ever there was one. Our road took us up to a hilltop where stood a monument to local poet and gaucho, Buenaventura Luna. What a marvellous name; I think I might adopt it. One of his poems was reprod
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