Thursday, April 21, 2022

Patagonia Part III: The Pleasures of Sleeping Indoors

Arriving in a town or village means a break, and replacement of precious salts.  Our preferred sources of nutrients are chips and olives, often with some cheese and cookies.  Civilization is also where I put on an eager smile and Jace has to do the talking, since, unfortunately, my ability to understand 25-50% of what I hear extends not at all to my speaking abilities.  Sometimes Italian words come out.

After our first intense bit of riding, we stopped at a wonderful sort of oasis, a casa de ciclista, which in this case was a shelter with wood stove, gas, electricity, and hot water.  Totally free.  As long as you wish to stay.  This one was built and kept up by an Argentine couple who rode many long-distance trips in younger days and want to extend hospitality and refuge to others.  We met a lovely Danish couple and an eccentric Spanish artist there, shared meals, and got to speak some English.

I also got to practice my Spanish and enjoy some English conversation during the week-long detour to retrieve my lost bag.  We met so many friendly Argentines and travelers from around Latin America in hostels and hospedajes.  We took advantage of actual kitchens to cook soups and stews, drink tea and maté, and eat big breakfasts that shocked our coffee-and-bread-only companions.

Sleeping indoors in a town feels pretty luxurious in every sense but one.  I'm not sure if it's by strict mandate or preference, but it seems every household includes at least three dogs.  They are everywhere; they follow you for blocks; they spontaneously fight in the street; and they bark the entire night in clashing choruses.  (*One street mutt followed us for 25 rainy miles, pausing to leap at every oncoming truck and terrorize every field of cows.  We finally lost him after a huge hill, his mournful barks diminishing behind us.)

It's impressive, and horrible, particularly for a person who disdains the company of dogs.  (I know, I have no soul.)  So while I cherish cities and towns for hot showers, giant chocolate bars, and clean drinking water, I'm happier camping, say, in a rural roadside construction ditch.


There are roadside shrines to saints all over the place.


Inside the lovely casa de ciclista 


Some shit about rainbows and rain


Jace goes tubeless 


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