Day 16 and 17 – to Gaiman (and Trelew)

6 to 7 April    Kms travelled – 1,540

Camwy Secondary School, Gaiman

After a comfortable night I treated myself to a lazy morning and a skype call back home.  It was Good Friday after all, and there is nothing ´gooder´ than a chat with the lovely Mrs Pat.  I also knew that there was only 230 kms to travel, so I rolled out of the hotel car park at around 9:30, to be met with stiff winds as soon as I had cleared town.  

These were the worst I encountered so far, which made the relatively short distance a much longer ordeal than anticipated, requiring quite a number of rest breaks on the otherwise uninteresting and not particularly good quality road (3 then 25).  There is another surface under preparation, which teased continuously alongside the rutted and damaged original, but it is not yet open – and may not be so for a while yet.  In fact, it was 13:00 by the time I leaned into Gaiman, and what a pleasant surprise.  A green valley – and trees!

Fabio, Idris and me outside the B&B

Even more pleasant was the welcome that awaited me from the resident Welsh community.  Now, the Welsh are traditionally (and rightly) proud of their welcomes – they even sing songs about them, and keep them in the hillsides – and the hillsides of the Chubut valley were no different.  Interesting that this aspect of the Welsh character so closely mirrors my experiences so far of Argentinean hospitality – there is more that binds us, than separates us. 

My first port of call on arrival was lunch at Plâs y Graig, the impressive family home of Tegai Roberts, Luned Roberts de González and Fabio González – stalwarts of the Welsh community in Patagonia.  They had thoughtfully laid on fish empanadas, pizza and salad, which went down very nicely thank you very much.  They had also organised accommodation for my two night stay, a programme of activities, and secure parking for Idris at the (YPF) El Duki´s Service Station run by Meira Jones – who also happens to be Treasurer of the Camwy Association (Camwy being the Welsh name for the Chubut river).  Many thanks Meira, I rested easier knowing ´the dragon´ was in safe hands!

St David´s Hall, Trelew

A quick change and I was whisked off to Trelew by Luned and Tegai for the Welsh Association´s weekly radio programme.  A mix of community news and delightful Welsh music was interrupted this week by an interview with yours truly.  I hope at least some listeners were interested in my work, travels and the fundraising for Unicef!  

Yes, a timely reminder folks.  

A click on the link at the top right of the webpage will enable you to make a direct donation to this excellent cause - and many thanks again to those who have already done so.

The radio show was followed by coffee with Dewi and Eileen Jones at the Touring Club Café.  A delightful couple, and we passed a lovely moment together – I even learnt a few new jokes.  Dewi was chairman of the Chubut Eisteddfod committee for several years and helped re-found the Gorsedd (bardic stone circle) in 2002, and was distinguished by the Welsh Government in 2010.  Excellent!

Plas y Coed Tea Rooms and B&B, Gaiman

The overnight stays in Gaiman were the most comfortable so far.  Much smaller than its neighbouring Trelew (some 10 kms away), the town itself is pretty and a wise choice as a place for any stop over.  The location seems to provide a natural shelter from the constant winds, clearly the Welsh settlers some 140 years ago knew what to look for, when David D Roberts built the first house. 

For me, a room had been set aside at the Plâs y Coed B&B (see link on the right) - a place I cannot recommend enough.  The B&B and adjoining Welsh tea rooms are run by Ana Chiabrando, a Welsh speaker who delights in her cultural heritage.  Indeed, it was Ana who kindly agreed to show me around the Welsh schools, Chapels and sights of Trelew the following morning.  Set in a traditional home right in the heart of town, the Plâs y Coed tea rooms are a must do – with some of the best apple tart (apple pie for North American viewers) I have ever tasted!  Needless to say the traditional tea and bara brith were pretty good too!  My thanks to Ana for all her help and support.

Ysgol yr Hendre, Trelew

Through a mix of hard work, volunteers, local government support, and support from Wales, this small community of Argentineans with Welsh ancestry manage to achieve a lot, with relatively little.  It is indeed impressive that the Welsh culture has so noticeably been kept alive.  I´ve heard it said that visitors have been disappointed at not hearing more Welsh spoken - but all it takes is a few words (eg bore da – good morning) and you´ll be surprised at the number of speakers that are around.  Go on, give it a go!

Ana at Ysgol yr Hendre, Trelew

The bilingual nursery and primary provision in both Trelew and Gaiman is growing and each year more adults (such as Ana and Fabio) develop their linguistic skills further.  This Welsh provision is supported through the work of teachers and events workers from Wales who visit, usually for a year, and quickly become part of the local community.  Elliw Baines Roberts and Lois Dafydd are two such people, who kindly agreed to give me a tour of Gaiman after yet another fabulous lunch at lunch at Plâs y Graig.  

Elliw and Lois at Camwy Secondary School, Gaiman     

Although Elliw had never been to Argentina before, she has relatives in the local community - nice!  If you are wandering around town, the local museum overseen by Fabio (Camwy Association) is well worth a stop.  Housed in the old railway station, the place is packed with original items, including a fascinating map showing the partition of the valley land. 

I also had the great pleasure to visit the home of Oscar Arnold and Edith Macdonald.  Edith is the chairperson of the Camwy Association and Oscar Arnold is a former chairman of Trelew Saint David´s Association. 

David D Robert´s First Home in Gaiman

I was then introduced to Héctor Ariel Macdonald, who kindly showed me round his recording studio and I heard a sample of his work with local folk artists to full orchestral arrangements for BBC Wales and mixed choirs.  There is something about sung Welsh that, when done well, sends shivers down the spine.  There is not only Welsh cultural tradition in Chubut, but also real modern talent as well! 

Bethel Chapel, Gaiman

A busy day and a half was rounded off by visiting probably the best eatery in town – which also happens to be owned and run by a Welsh speaker.  And boy can they cook too!  If you are ever in Gaiman treat yourself to dinner at Gwalia Lân on the main street, run by Andrés Evans and Marina Brágoli.  You´ll even find locally brewed Celtic beers – which are well worth sampling. 

Much has already been written about the history of the Welsh settlers in Patagonia, so I´ll not risk any errors by trying to repeat it here.  Those interested in more might like to have a look at this:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Y_Wladfa

Luned outside Plas y Coed Tea Rooms in the centre of Gaiman

I feel both honoured and blessed to have had this experience, and to have felt the warmth of such hospitality – and I have yet to visit the other end of the Chubut valley on my route north!.  But I cannot sign off on this episode without recording my special thanks to Luned.  Her perfect English tempered with the accent of her excellent Welsh, belies the fact that she was born and bred in Argentina.  I shall treasure the memories of this visit.  

Diolch yn fawr iawn i chi.    

Thought for the day

Humans are a race of explorers and adventurers – whether that thirst for something new is quenched through physical travel, or exploration of science and technology, or even a greater understanding of ourselves.  We have this seemingly unending drive to develop, to improve, to know.  So what is it that also drives us to understand where we come from, and to retain that link to the past?  Is it a form of societal anchor that keeps us grounded as we reach out into something new?  Like any basic map reading, knowing where we come from helps us know where we are going.  The sense of identity gained from being part of a social group – whether a linguistic one, geo-political, cultural, or even an adventure bike rider! – also helps us feel that we are not alone, that we belong, that we are valued.  This is an important aspect of personal wellbeing.  It also has the added benefit of helping maintain the best of traditions – something that the Welsh community in Patagonia do so very well, and long may that continue.

Elliw and Lois at Gaiman Library

Day 15 – to Sierra Grande

5 April    Kms travelled – 1310

Up with the dawn, or at least some squawking wildlife!  Packed and off at 8:30 – which was pretty good considering I´m still getting into my rhythm.  I had no phone signal at the campsite, so as soon as I heard the bleep of incoming texts, I sent a message off to my online tracking system to let family know I´m OK (and where I am). 

Around 100kms down to Bahia Blanca only resolved to confirm Javier´s advice that it is best avoided.  A sprawling industrial town with little to commend it – but it had fuel – of which Idris partook – and we were off again.  Well, not quite.  I know it is a bit of a crappy place, because I got lost and spend around half an hour ´exploring´ before I finally turned the GPS on and got out of Dodge! 

I took the 22 inland and then the 251 and 3 south – neither of which I have anything notable to say about other than they are flat, straight roads, with little or no places to stop.  Javier´s advice to fill up with fuel every time you see a petrol stop really struck home now.  You can be fooled into thinking that there are many, as around (some) towns you could see three or four – but then nothing at all (not even other buildings) for hundreds of kms.  And be prepared to become some form of minor celebrity as the locals all want to know about the bike, you, your trip, and can they have a photo with you!  I filled up the extra fuel bottle that Javier kindly donated to the cause – even though Idris has good fuel consumption and a 23 ltr tank - and I´m glad that I did.

You see, I had the opportunity to whisk off the Nolan helmet and don my good Samaritan hat, on not one, but two occasions.  A couple of middle aged ladies with a flat could not be ridden past!  So Pat and Idris to the rescue.  Thankfully I also had my compressor, as their spare was a little worse for wear, but at least it saw them on their way.  Next, only around 30 minutes from what was to be my overnight stop, a local biker and his better half out of fuel.  A few litres from my spare supply, saw them on their way after having only stopped about 2 minutes before I arrived.  The look on the guy´s face when I told him who I was and what I was doing was priceless.  You run out of fuel in the middle of nowhere, getting dark, windy and chilly, and this chap from Wales turns up with a spare can of go go juice – what are the odds!  Good to get some karma points in early methinks! 

The delays and the wind did mean that I pitched up in the dark at around 7:00 pm at the Sierra Grande Hotel, probably still a couple of hours off my planned destination.  I felt bad about that, as contacts in the Welsh community had put on a little welcome dinner – which I was to miss.  But it is a long adventure, I was tired, it was dark, and I had already been warned about the conditions of some of the roads ahead.  I opted for common sense, and I took a walk around town for about an hour (or until the dust being kicked up from the road got too much for me) to get some blood circulating again.  And settled in for the night.

Thought for the day

I´ve had a few thoughts today, and they go something like this...  Boy is this country big!  And boy is this part of it really boring to ride through.  And boy is that wind already starting to get tough - so what is it going to be like in the deep deep south.  And why do they plough the surface of the asphalt so that on a bike it feels like riding on train tracks.  And why to trucks (of which there are many) all seem to be so considerate, yet so many car drivers think that overtaking me in my lane in this wind is an OK thing to do.  And isn´t it a nice feeling when you can do something for someone else, even though I also feel bad about letting down those in the Welsh community in Patagonia. I´ll try and make up for that tomorrow.

Day 14 – to Sierra de la Ventana

4 April    Kms travelled – 741

After packing the night before and saying goodbye to the guys at DM, I was ready for the off at 8:00 – but it was around 10:00 before I finally cleared the main city traffic, despite some nifty filtering, and having to give one car a slight kick just to remind the driver that I was not some phantom figure, but real flesh and blood.  It was also hot!  It also tried to rain, but not so much that would have a cooling effect, but just enough to add to the sticky humidity that surrounded the city that morning.  I was mindful of the thunder that accompanied my departure from Barcelona.  Does this mean that it is going to be hot and wet every time I encounter an unwilling exit – because despite its faults and the fact that I am not a fan of big cities as a rule, BA gets under your skin.  If you ever get the chance, try it out, you might like it too!

Javier at DM furnished me with probably the best route south, for the first part where there are some options at least.  The word is that the Ruta 3 south is pretty much one of the more boring rides around.  I can understand that this would be a particular anticlimax for anyone coming to BA at the end of a great adventure.  But for me the adventure is just beginning, so I viewed a few easy days in the saddle as a welcomed boost, to give me time to get in the groove, and iron out any bike or packing issues.  Hmmm, easy days?

Passed the airport and it was on to Cañuelos (205) then to Saladillo (51) and Azul.  Remembering to fill up at Olavarra (76) as there was pretty much nothing beyond that point until reaching the evening destination at Sierra de la Ventana, a pretty collection of hills that reminded me of Mid Wales, with some excellent camping.  The word was to avoid Bahia Blanca. 

My camp site was on the southern side of the range, at Asuara Camping – though despite the clear signs from the road, I still had to ask the locals how to find the entrance (which was tucked away on the other side of a dry river bed).  A dinner of milanesa and papas awaited, alongside good wifi, for A$35. 

Thought for the day

These hills and the good camping appeared in some way as a reward for a long day in the saddle.  The 50kms or so of strong winds (by European standards) after Olaverra were a sign of what was ahead.  It appears that the wind is not reserved to Patagonia.  My planning, even after the first day, was in error.  Any map belittles the scale of this country and your ability to make rapid progress.  Though the hilly reward did allow me at least an hour of riding where I really started to feel one with the bike.  Idris and I are off!

Day 13 – Buenos Aires

3 April    Kms travelled – 35

Thirteen may be unlucky for some, but not this fine fellow.  Today was the day that I was reunited with Idris.  An 8:00 start with a Taxi to the airport to do the necessary under the expert eye of Sandra from Dakar Motos.  It may be due to me being completely zonked when I arrived from the airport, but the long mad dash back this day has, at times, my heart in my mouth.  And I am used to Spanish driving!  Clearly I´d need to take great care on my return trip.

Aside from another heart stopping moment when the papers showing the bike had arrived could not be located (I could have almost kissed the bloke who popped his head round the door with another bundle of documents – well, perhaps not – but you know what I mean).  Shuttling from one office to another, and waiting around, and before I knew it they were opening the crate, and there was Idris in tip top condition.  While the extra week has been a bit frustrating, you have to give James Cargo their credit – they sure know how to pack a bike.  A satisfying bark, backfire, and the thumper roared into life.  Nice!  A bit more paperwork, payment, and handshakes from the nice customs chap and I was on the road.  As it turned out Sandra´s directions back were perfect, and the rush hour traffic had eased back to only major congestion, as opposed to manic gridlock.   35 minutes later i was back at Dakar Motos chatting to the guys and asking Javier if he could wield his much experience in Idris´ direction to finish off a few things I was unable to get to.

Andrew and Ben from Taz (and me)

While Javier rolled up his sleeves, I was back in the city centre sorting out the insurance for most of the South American counties I will be visiting (and some that I´m not – same price), getting to the bank, picking up a few last minute supplies, and making a call on the great people at the British Council in BA.  

Then back at DM, it was time to pack and have a few beers with the guys, ready for the off the next morning.  


Thought for the day
Today I have mainly been thinking about packing, the bike, and the route.  To be honest I have not managed to process any other issues that may have sprung to mind.  How very thoughtless of me!

Day 10 to 12 – Buenos Aires

31 March to 2 April    Kms travelled – 0

As planned it was back into the city centre for me for a day of wandering and sightseeing in another blazing 26 degrees.   Strolling down the city´s Florida street in the heart of the pedestrian zone, the city seemed so very familiar.  Funny how the place grows on you so quickly.  I´m not sure whether it was my body language, or perhaps the fact that I was simply feeling so comfortable in the surroundings, but none of the vendors on the street bothered to tout Tango shows and various other tourist trips to me at all.  

Then again, perhaps it was because I was in need of a laundry day!

But today there was more of a difference, as you could not escape the growing roar of engines.  People were out in force, and the force was being fuelled by high octane petroleum.  Touring car racing was in town!  And I really mean IN town, as the city centre had been given over to create this motorized spectacle.  The down side, however, was that I had arrived too late and all the best (free) spots had been taken.  I did manage to grab a few video shots, which also gave the opportunity to play with the video editing software I have with me – so perhaps I can do more of that as we trundle along.

And we are going to trundle.  Air Canada tracking has delivered the news that Idris has hit town – but is currently under lock and key until after the holiday weekend.  Yey – I think is the appropriate comment on that point!

But back to the city, and a short walk from the centre (in between races) across the to the San Telmo neighbourhood.  I have to say, I was a bit disappointed at first, as the bit I was walking through was quite dodgy looking – as I started to get a little uncomfortable with some of the characters lurking in doorways – I decided to take a turn in a different direction rather than head back.  And it was by no means a turn for the worse, as I stumbled across the main part of this district with its funky restaurants and bars, market stalls and a multitude of antique shops.  Perhaps a closer study of the map in advance could have avoided that initial angst, but it does show how only a couple of streets can make a world of difference in large cities.

Needless to say I avoided the centre on the holiday Monday - and I am sure some of the scenes outside the British Embassy have already been widely and separately reported.  

I did, however, take some shots of the war memorial the day before, and some are included here, including changing the guard. 

The days were completed in continued glorious sunshine by that much needed clothes washing, and pulling together of my paperwork – as it is off to the airport to collect Idris next.  

Yey!  

Sorry, I´ll stop doing that soon!   




Thought for the day

This week we have seen disappointing scenes of violence outside the British Embassy in Buenos Aires by young people, which appeared to me to too young to have been around 30 years ago.  At the same time (if I got the news right) the Argentinean President made a statement noting that the war was not the will of the Argentinean people.  I can´t speak for an entire nation, but from my own position and those I have discussed the matter with, I can´t see that the conflict 30 years ago was the will of the British people either, so some common ground there to build on.  

And we have also seen this week mindless violence on the streets in Spain when the population staged major demonstrations and a national strike against changes to labour laws (who would employ them anyway after such scenes?).  And, of course, in the UK the senseless destruction and mindless acts by young people concerned about their access to higher education – though possibly some are in greater need of just plain common sense rather than cheaper degrees – is not so far passed as should be forgotten. 

Each cause from respective standpoints would appear to have some merit, but why is it that so many young people are so disenfranchised with society that they feel they have no recourse but to express their frustrations through the use of violence?  Is it that contemporary society is so geared towards those who consume, and have the resources to consume, leaving those without, without?  Should we collectively be doing more to give these people a greater stake in society, or is it simply smashing up buildings and (at times) other people is just a good laugh?  Answers on a postcard please.