Badlanders MCC Website

 

Arriving in Punto Arenas

 

Right.......Let me start by saying- British Red Cross and Latin American Foundation for the Future. Now these are two of the main beneficiaries of this trip. I am undoubtedly the other....but I am not asking for your money for me; only for them. So, however small the donation, make one, because it all counts. Sure I’ve had some really generous donations , mostly from family and good friends. Forget the figures, just put a little into the pot, coz a little goes a long way towards helping me reach the target.

 

OK. I know you like the sagas, so here’s one.  Two days ago, I awoke to a howling wind. How howling was it? You ask. It was a real howler! I had my breakfast at the Argentinian Automovil  (ACA) hostel and then went outside. The Argentinian customs and border crossing was only minutes away from the hostel, so I went over and asked about cycling to Punto Arenas. You may have guessed it! Another outburst of laughter! Of course I wasn’t really dressed like a cyclist, so they probably didn’t think I was serious. I went back to the hostel, read for a bit and went out again, this time dressed as a cyclist, ( with lycra....or spandex as Charles calls it), with bike but without luggage. I asked again. Neficito cyletta al Punto Arenas...valle? ( I need to cycle to Punto Arenas....ok? ), this time in a much more serious tone. I assume he said “your not listening” in Spanish..... “no possiblė. Mucho, mucho viento....intiendo?”. I left and decided to cycle down the Argentinian side of the San Sebastian bay. I understood what he meant as I was blown off the road a few times! It was definitely “No possiblė”!

 

Without load and at 45° angle, I still couldn’t stop myself being blown off the road. I went back to the Hostel and stuck my head into vintage Chatwin and his search for dinosaurs in Patagonia and asked if I could have the room for another night. They obliged, fed me and cleaned the room, which is the sort of deed that you wouldn’t always get in a hostel. After a hamburger completa, I sunk my head into the book in the full knowledge that I’d be protected from the storming wind until the next day.

 

Throughout the night, the wind roared, the windows rattled and the noise from the flue was deafening. Even knowing the words to Pearls a Singer  (thanks Trevor!) wouldn’t have helped. However, having dropped off at about 3.30, I awoke to the sound of silence, which is interesting really, because I’d stuck my (new Ipod) earphones on and started listening to some mellow Martin Taylor to help me get to sleep. He was still paying guitar at 8.30. God knows where the earphones were- at least they weren’t tied around my bicycle pedals!

 

There was no wind! I was up in seconds, dressed and ready to roll. I had breakfast, tostada and tea. The chef, the “manager” and the room maid, eagerly awaiting my arrival.....and disappearance no doubt!!! I had breakfast, took the bike and trailer to the nearest road side crash barrier (for stability) and headed to the border crossing. After about an hour of waiting, I eventually got through the border crossing and headed off. As I left, I could feel the wind grow stronger by the second. However, by the time I’d got passed the first mile, the wind became almost unbearable. Not exactly sure what the contour of the route would be, though realising  I was heading west and the wind was in front of me, there was no doubt this was going to get tough. This was also the first time I had experienced dirt tracks for a road...one that was to go on for miles!

 

As I approached an oil well and storage tank, a gust of wind took me, the bike and trailer clean off the road. I got up, realising that I was going to have to go back again, only to find the rear spindle had snapped with the weight of the trailer and the way it and I fell! This really was catastrophic. I couldn’t now move without assistance. So here I was in no man’s land, not sure what I was going to do next!

 

He helped me get my bike and trailer in the back of the pick-up and with huge, palpable relief, I thanked him from the bottom of my heart. Que t’ al? He said. Va a Punto Arenas. “Claro”, he said. Tambien va a Punto Arenas.  Manuel spoke next to no English, so it was up to me to provide the linguistic skills! Doesn’t sound good, I know! However, he knew the signs of relief when he saw it. “Esto viento” he said... “no bien por biclecetta”, as he struggled to keep the jeep on the road. I now didn’t feel so soft and stupid....well  let’s just say, not so soft!

 

We were a few minutes from the Chilean border crossing, which was another spectacle to behold. As I opened the door of the jeep, the wind was so fierce, my cycling helmet. blew back down the road towards Argentina, as did one of my new, superthin polar gloves. I’d retrieved my helmet, but wasn’t prepared to keep chasing the glove. Instead, I took my pannier bags, trailer bag and camelbac and put them through the customs check in section. One of the customs guards was an elderly lady, who helped me understand the form. After doing so, she gave chase to my one remaining glove. I walked out of the building to see this poor woman chasing after my glove, each time thinking that she had managed to stand on it, bending down to pick it up, only to find it was off again. I think she’d have run the ten miles back to Argentina, if she had to! She returmed with glove and a beaming smile. I couldn’t do anything but thank this woman for what she had done, whilst finding it difficult to hide my laughter. Manuel must have wondered what the hell was going on!

 

We were off now to cross the Magellan Straight which was a definite milestone, albeit one that I was doing with some assistance, given the state of my bike.

 

 Now,... I have participated in or experienced some scary things in my life, but crossing the Estrecha de Magellane on a vehicle ferry in 120km winds, was without doubt one of the scariest experiences ever. There were times when all you could see was the whole ocean higher than the ferry as you hit the dip of the wave and you felt as if you were going to be hit by a tsunami. Every vehicle was soaked with the waves lashing over the top of the ferry. The relief when we got to the other side! People were coming of a bus at the other side and throwing up.

 

 We headed to Punto Arenas, passing sheep, guanacos, Nandus and Foxes (can’t remember the Chilean name). Manuel took me to a B&B he knew. There was no WI FI but there was a private room and a warm shower. Oh to be thankful for small mercies.