After the border crossing we realised we were going to have to up our game if we wanted to make it around South America. With a deadline of December 16th for a friends wedding in Chile, it hit us that we needed to be in Brazil to be on schedule, with nothing but main roads ahead of us we decide to hitch. This was a decision that in some ways feels like we have cheated on our trip, the roads are dull, main highways and the scenery is nothing compared to what we have been through or what lies ahead but still, something didn’t feel right with our choice. 5 days, 3 hitches and 2 buses later we were in Posadas, not where we wanted to be but well over 3000km from where we made the decision to not ride. Christmas Day was a relaxed affair with us not really knowing where we were or what there is to do, the weather is also notably more tropical. After the final bus and a rather unpleasant bus driver who judging by his waist line hadn’t been near a bike for far too long, and judging by the way he manhandled our bikes didn’t much care to be near a bike any time soon, we opted to ride the last stretch; 320km on a good road, easy, 3 days and we would be at Iguazu falls! We were wrong, so very wrong! The road had more in common with a roller coaster than a normal road and in the 320km I don’t think we experienced more than 100m of flat; constant ups and down coupled with the horrific humidity levels left us struggling. 5 days later we made it to the falls thoroughly exhausted. Sight seeing and new year in Peurto Iguazu with an impromptu pool party left us ready to finally get to Brazil. A few nights in the casa de ciclista and Brazil was not off to the start we were hoping, Jess not feeling 100%, whether it be a 2 day hangover or actual illness we weren’t sure but a few rest days we hoped would help rejuvenate her motivation to get on the bike. We left Foz do Iguaçu with the aim of Curitiba to see Daniel, one of the Brazilians we rode with in Chile and then hot foot onwards to the coast. Again though our plans were hindered with Jess deteriorating, turns out it wasn’t a two-day hangover! We made it as far as Cascavel where we were staying with a couple who we had been put in contact with while camping in a petrol station. A man with very little English came to chat to us, when learning we were from England he thrust a phone upon me exclaiming Albania, Albania! I tried to explain I wasn’t from Albania nor did I speak Albanian but nevertheless I was forced on the phone wondering what I was supposed to say. It was then I heard a cockney accent on the other end asking me if we needed any help. Turns out the crazy mans brother-in-law was from Albania but luckily for me spoke perfect English, well almost perfect, the cockney accent wasn’t his fault, he had lived in London for 8 years! We made plans to stay the next night. It was thanks to this chance meeting that Jess’ illness was as comfortable as could have been. In true Brazilian style we were made to feel right at home and ended up staying for 5 nights in all. Being sick on holiday is never easy, being sick when travelling with no fixed abode is even worse and I hate to think how miserable we would have been if it wasn’t for the kindness of Artur and Regie Reluctantly we hit the road again with Jess now feeling almost as good as new. Next stop Curitiba! Another great few days catching up with Daniel and seeing how he normally lives compared to the cyclist we had known on the road. We even managed to watch the latest Star Wars, more for my sake than Jess’ and do a spot of shopping in Decathlon! With warnings from every Brazilian we spoke to and to us not being well behind schedule we opted to skip the next stretch of road and catch a bus to Santos, from here we would be within touching distance of the beaches we had been dreaming about since Chos Malal. The coast road led to some amazing vistas and for the next few weeks we were never too far from the sea. Again though Brazil was not making it easy and we found ourselves climbing the steepest hills we have encountered yet. Luckily the climbs are never long but the legs were still finding it tough. With this we decided it was time to use another contact and stay with Daniel’s mum who lives in a small town on our route. Once again we were blown away with Brazilian hospitality and had to tear ourselves away from the idyllic little beach town, not after a night of beers, whisky and BBQ’s something we are coming to realise Brazilians take great pride in! From here it was on to Ilha Grande, an island that has no roads, sounds perfect for cycle tourists and we couldn’t pass up the chance to explore it for ourselves. With perfect white beaches and crystal clear water we spent a few days trying to eradicate the cycle tourist’s tan lines while searching for the quietest beach we could. After another prolonged stop we now had our eyes set on Rio. The road provided endless vistas and we slowly became accustomed to steep climbs we had to overcome each day. Before we knew it we were in Rio, now to find somewhere to store our bikes securely! Cities were never a highlight for ourselves due to the increase traffic and the general hustle and bustle that doesn’t lend it self to a fully loaded touring bike, still Rio has an excellent system of cycle lanes that meant we were able to navigate in relative safety, bare a few clueless pedestrians! Our time in Rio was spent hitting the countless tourist attractions that appealed to us, we cycled up to the Christ Redeemer, had a tour of one of the favelas and cycled up and down Cococabana beach. All that is left now is to wash and prepare to get out of Rio before Carnival fever fully takes hold of the city! Our first month in Brazil has been far different than our experience in Patagonia. Brazil has been amazing because of the people we have met so far. The riding has not been anything to brag about, most of the times we are on main roads, the beaches we have come across, although beautiful have been very busy. Too busy for our liking. What we need to find now is some remote areas of Brazil, we just hope that the northwest of the country can offer us this!!
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So we finally managed to tear ourselves away from our Warmshower host Miguel and the mountains and set of once again just the two of us. A few pit stops on the way out of town had us a chance meeting with a guy who had met the Brazilians 4 days previously, he told us how much progress they had made and put any false hope of us catching them soundly to bed. They were most definitely in Chile by now and a long way ahead of us. It was nice to be riding as a twosome again but we did find ourselves wondering what the boys were up to on countless occasions, wondering where they had spent the night on this part of the trip and weather we would find any clues as to where they had ventured. Our route took us through the 7 lakes, a gem of Patagonia so it is described, and although is stunning it didn’t have the draw that the Carretera Austral had over us, maybe it was the perfectly smooth tarmac road that meant we were merely passing through the area rather than actively riding it as we had to do on the ripio. Still the riding was pleasant, almost easy, so much so that we reached our first nights camp spot without realising it. The joy of this stretch of roads was the camping, like the riding it was super easy to find great spots to pitch the tent for the night, and with the first days great progress Jess almost committed to a full swim, instead she opted to a more hopping type stroke that as a swim teacher I could not count as legitimate swimming, sorry Jess you still haven’t had a wild swim in South America! Our second night was at a couch surfer’s, this is like warm-showers but you don’t have to be a cyclist. Pedro was our host and he was gracious enough to give us a mattress in his amazing cabin in the woods. He even provided beer and a BBQ, perfect end to some great riding. The 7 lakes road wasn’t all easy going and it did throw some testy little climbs at us, couple this with the great weather we have been having and you have yourself two sweaty cyclists, luckily some road side streams made for a refreshing pit stop. From here it was into San Martin and after two days of gradually going uphill we were rewarded with a nice 17km downhill where I didn’t need to touch the pedals, I did touch the pedals of course because faster is always better, but, if I had felt like it I could have free wheeled the entirety of it. Tonight also saw us bare witness to the less glamorous side of cycle touring. Rather than struggling with which idyllic spot to pitch our tent for the best views of the mountains for sunset or which spot offers the best view over the lake; today saw us trying to find a spot that smelt least of urine. It’s not all fun and games this cycling malarkey. It was from here that our route came somewhat uncertain. Since dreaming up the trip I have always known roughly that I wanted to vaguely take the route we have, now though, now we are completely winging it. We heard that there was some pretty cool volcanoes in Chile so thought why not get another stamp in the passport and once again cross the Andes. We immediately regretted this decision after cycling for 75km into a head wind, the only silver lining being the impressive views we had of Volcan Lanin. The trouble with active volcanoes is their habit to erupt, now this volcano didn’t erupt while we were cycling but evidence that it is very much still alive and kicking is all over the road, infact the road was like cycling through a sandpit, only cooler because instead of sand it was volcanic ash, cooler yes, but no easier to ride in. Luckily the ash road was only a mere 12km and being British we found a queue to get in about a km from the end. After spending a good hour in this queue it turned out as cyclist we were exempt form having to stand in this queue with the other road users, nice of them to tell us once we made it to the end. We quickly checked out of Argentina and rolled into Chile on a near perfect ribbon of tarmac, best of all it was all downhill. The damned headwind was still there but was now barely a problem. We made it to Pucon today, the town famous for being able to climb the one of the many Volcanoes that are spread around the area. Upon further question we were unable to climb the volcano over the next few days for differing reasons, the most prevalent being that it was smoking more than usual so did not want to take tourists up, however they were confident that within a day or so it would be fine… I wasn’t convinced, no smoke without and fire and all that. We decided that rather than wait around at the foot of a volcano that was ‘smoking more than usual’ we would push on for the next town and check about hiking conditions when there, this would also fit in nicely with my Birthday, what cooler way to turn 28 than hiking on a volcano that could erupt. We left Pucon and cowboy camped by the lake, we thought this would be a safe place should molten magma come cascading down, our plan was to use our sleeping mats as lilos, to make our escape even more efficient we opted to sleep under the stars rather than pitch a tent! We awoke to no magma and made it to Villarrica where we hoped to enquire about the Volcano. This town didn’t have the same motivation it seems to make the most of the towering Volcano and it took some effort to find any tour companies, never mind ones that offered volcano trekking. The ones that did offer trekking refused to take us, with limited Spanish we are still not sure why but it did put an end to my idea of spending my 28th looking into the crater of a bubbling volcano. With the volcano trekking off we were once again at a loss of which way to go, knowing we need to start making some real headway through this continent it was becoming apparent that at some point we were going have to stop our aimless wandering and start putting some good KM in a straight line. My birthday was not to be that day though and I was adamant that we were not going to sit on a main highway so the back roads it was. Although more scenic and quieter than the main roads these back roads offered some of the toughest climbing to date. Long, steep and of horrendous quality we found our progress to be demoralising and slow. The next few days we did our upmost to make these roads work but slowly we were starting to realise that even with average days of 75km we were not making enough progress and the riding was brutal, we were running ourselves into the ground, something had to change and with this realisation we hopped on route 5, in the UK this would be called a motorway! Out here bicycles are allowed on these roads and the huge shoulder on the side in some ways makes it safer than the smaller roads we were negotiating earlier in the trip. For the next few dull days we sat and churned out some big miles in order to take us back to Argentina and onwards to Brazil, the highlight of our days being the service stations and the occasional piece of road kill we had to avoid! We finally got off route 5 but the road still was not offering me any form of stimulation and I began asking myself what it was we were doing, we were cycling for cycling’s sake, the views are dull and the roads are full of lorries and busses. We have a big choice ahead of us regarding getting to Brazil, do we carry on, on these dull busy roads or do we try an alternative, hitch maybe, so that we can spend more time on scenic roads… The visual stimulation I was after has been met. We left our nights accommodation and set out for the border crossing, our route took us through a national park and my god did it deliver on a non boring, challenging route. For the past few days I have been riding my bike on the moon. Ok so it wasn’t the moon but it damned sure looked like the pictures I’ve seen of the moon, all accept the giant lake we were riding around and the snow capped volcano that towered over our every pedal stroke, other than that I could have been on the moon. The road started with a challenging climb on deteriorating roads that on more than one occasion had my bike bucking me sideways as it lost traction on off camber washboard corners. We finally arrived at an out of season ski town at the foot of Volcano Antuco. The road, if you can call it that, followed a lake from this point, chance to get some good distance in before we set up camp. We were wrong, so very, very wrong. The road deteriated into nothing more than car tracks through ankle deep volcanic ash, for the next 30km we fought for every meter, we would ride for maybe 50m before being engulfed in soft deep ash where we would push until firmer ground to repeat the ritual. As the day wore on the hills seemed to get steeper and the road softer, in section it took both of us to push one bike up a hill. By the time we could see border control we were finished, taking refuge from the wind in a forest by an army barracks, there we gave in for the night. The next day the road seemed ridable, maybe tired legs had increased the overall difficulty towards the end of the yesterdays efforts. We managed to make it a whole KM with barely any steps, we had also finally been gifted the fabled tail wind. Four months we have been waiting for this and today we had it. We checked out of Chile and zipped along the next 15km of ups and downs, the wind making it a pleasure to ride. All to soon though our run of fortune with the wind was coming to an end, the road began a slow bend and before we knew it the wind was now pushing us into the soft verges that enjoyed eating bike tires for breakfast. From this point we also saw our challenge for the day. We knew at some point we had a climb, we knew the pass was 2000m and we knew we were nowhere near that. What we didn’t know was just how tough the climb would be. Loose rocks, volcanic ash and wind made for undesirable riding conditions to say the least, for over 4 hours we pushed, dragged, kicked, screamed and at times laughed our way to the top. We did it though, and although 2000m may not sound a lot for 4 hours it was our Everest, it consumed us and that was all that mattered, but we made it and we now had the decent to enjoy. And enjoy it we did, not without a few squeaky bum moments though when the soft sand, that had plagued our accent, snook up on our high speed decent causing the wheels to take on a somewhat sideways manoeuvre. Still we made it down in one piece with smiles on our faces. It was at the bottom of this 10km decent that we came across a German cycle tourist napping on a bridge, our look of glee was enough to tell him what he had ahead, what we didn’t realise was how much climbing he had already done, no wonder he was napping, I would have pitched the tent and called it a day if it was me! Our road continued downwards where thoroughly exhausted we camped by the river we were now following. The next day and we were ready for a rest day, the pass had taken more out of us than we had realised and we were dreaming of a supermarket and a day of nothing. We more crawled into El Cholar than rode, every hill hurt us and the ripio road slowed us to barely faster than walking pace. I wouldn’t say El Cholar should appear on everyone’s must visit places of South America, there is nothing here, not even a La Anonima that we love so much, but it does have an overpriced hostal and a distinctly average shower so for the next day we are going to do nothing but watch films and get some energy back into our legs.
As is now the norm we left Futaleufu well after 11, some last minute jobs and miserable weather meant we were less than motivated to get going. We did eventually get moving and 8km later we were at the border control, a little confusion with us parking our bikes in the wrong place; you’re not allowed to lean them on the fence it turns out… Yet more confusion arose when they stamped us as leaving Argentina rather than entering, a quick cross-out and an assurance of we will be fine when we actually come to leaving Argentina and we were in. The rest of the day was spent running away from the ominous rain clouds that threatened to soak us. This game of chase that we are now become seasoned pro’s at led to us pushing further than we expected and making it to Trevelin. This is a crazy town that has a strong affiliation with the Welsh and for the first time since leaving Uni I found myself seeing all the signs in two languages, only this time I couldn’t read either as one was Spanish and the other was Welsh. I had wanted to make it to Trevelin since hearing about the Welsh influence and I found it funny how just seeing Welsh flags everywhere gave me the sensation of home when I am so far away, with every person I expected to hear ‘Bore Da’ and a thick welsh accent, it was not to be unfortunately, the tourist information woman didn’t have a clue what I was on about when I tried my best Welsh on her!!! Being back in Argentina brought about the excitement of La Anonima; Argentina’s version of Tesco if you will, and as luck will have it, the Brazilians shared our love of supermarkets; maybe it’s a cycle tourist thing?? With great excitement we entered to stock up on food for cheap prices. From here we went in search of cheap/free accommodation, I think this is the longest cheap hotel game we have ever played, the Brazilians are even more frugal than ourselves and were happy to wait an hour in a cold wet, windy park for the off chance of a man meeting us with news of a friends place we could stay at. After an hour Jess and I had given up and explained that we were off to find a campsite. The irony of this being the campsite was abandoned so we ended up staying for free after all. To top it off we opted to sleep inside the old bathrooms rather than trying to pitch our tent. I found myself for the first time since Uni sleeping on the floor of a bathroom; at least at Uni I had the excuse of being very drunk rather than just being a tight arse who didn’t want to pay for anything. The next day saw us venture in to Los Alerces National park, again being ahead of the season meant we got in for free, it also meant that everything was closed, including the information office. Luckily there is only one road and very little traffic through the national park so getting lost wasn’t too much of a problem, the hardest part was deciding which free camp we wanted to stay at there are about 6 within 5km of each other. Rain clouds over the lake had the Brazilians running scared meant we retired early with the rain hitting us late into the night, still it made for an atmospheric back drop watching the storm edge closer. We spent two days in the park enjoying the quiet roads and the views, not to mention the climbs, they seemed to be longer than what we had become accustomed to on the Carretera Austral and with me now suffering from a worn out middle chain ring they proved to be somewhat of a challenge. We also met the craziest cyclist to date, a Spanish man who didn’t seem to grasp the idea that we didn’t speak much of his language, the Brazilians did their best at translating but after 30minutes of him talking at us we were all pretty worn out. Our last camp was at he entrance/exit, depending which way you’re coming, of the park. Upon leaving the national park our old friend Mr Wind rejoined us, for 40km we battled hard, the only bonus being that we were now back on tarmac. It seems that the ripio has trained our legs well, even with the headwind we were able to maintain a good pace; turns out the bad roads are good for something! Onwards to El Bolson, which was another big city with the promise of more supermarkets and hopefully somewhere to fix my middle chain ring. I find myself in two minds about the problems with my bike, when on the horrific roads I wonder how we haven’t had more problems, the bike constantly being shaken an rattled as they carry ourselves and our lives for the next year or so, then with almost full reversal I am in disbelief that I splashed out on an expensive bike for the sole purpose of being able to handle touring over tough terrain yet I find myself visiting a bike shop after less than 4000km…I suppose the silver lining is that nothing major has gone wrong and that I am still able to ride and keep the adventure alive! In El Bolson we were chased down by a man in a high-vis jacket with a bunch of kids. In a hasty conversation we were offered a place to pitch our tents in his garden, we had to meet him in the square at 5.30 after he had finished work, with that he was back to the kids and they all rode off. Not fully sure what had just happened we decided to play the waiting game again, this didn’t turn out great for us in Trevelin but we decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Our trust paid off and at 5.30 he turned up in a van, loaded our bikes in the back and drove us 6km back the way we had cycled in from to his house. The evening was spent chatting and cooking with him. Turns out he was a PE teacher and the kids we saw him with where his class, I tried to imagine what would happen if I was out with a class and I suddenly tore away to chat to four strangers on the side of a busy road… With the sun shining and the hot shower we were ready to go, we had been warned of the big climb ahead so with determination we set off. The climb was long but the gradient was relaxed and after 15km we were at the top with smiles on our face, Bariloche was within touching distance, some nice descents and some more climbs and we were there, we had contacted a guy on warm showers and we were in luck, he was happy to take the four of us in. So here we are, sat in a separate little studio flat that is attached to his bicycle workshop, he fixed my middle ring for me for a fraction of the price I was going to have to pay, the Brazilains have also done some bike maintenance with Daniel changing his handle bars and José changing his forks. All in all a perfect place to spend a few days. With heavy hearts we bid farewell to our Brazilian brethren, being from Brazil they were more comfortable with seeing snow from the comfort of the road rather than joining us in trekking up to the white fluffy stuff. It has been a great few weeks riding with the boys and we will miss their antics and translator skills, mostly though, I will miss having someone to drink wine with!!! Jess and I shouldered our packs and waved goodbye as the boys rolled out, first challenge for us, catching a bus! Now this is a skill we haven’t had to master in South America, turns out it is a skill we are not very good at and not for the first time I found myself glad I am navigating this continent by bicycle rather than these 4 wheel monstrosities. We waited and after feeling confident we had missed the bus moved to the second stop where we commenced our wait, an hour passed and once gain we gave up hope thinking we had been mis-informed on what time the bus gets where, with nothing else to do we set about having lunch, cue Murphy’s law, just as we had got everything out the bus we needed turned up. After a frantic pack and grab we were finally on our way to the start of the trek. The bus took us up to the local ski resort, instantly I was having flash backs to my seasons in Canada and New Zealand and was getting pangs of desperation to find some skis and any patch of snow I could to race down. The only open establishment we could find rented bikes however and as I felt I had had my fix of cycling we began the trek. An easy-ish 10km and we were at the refugio, I say easy-ish, 5 days worth of food with a cycle tourists appetite meant the packs were crippling us all the way up and had us wondering once again why we had opted to do this as a break from cycling. Refucgio Frey was meant to be a one night stop that turned into 3 nights. This place was amazing, couple that with the great bunch of climbers we met there and we decided rather than lug our heavy packs on to another hut we would stick around and explore some of the surrounding peaks. 3 days was nowhere near enough, I could have spent a month in this place and still not climbed everything there was on offer, I only wish I had my climbing gear with me so that I could have dabbled on some of the steeper faces! After 3 days of lightweight day sacks and eating as much food as possible we begrudgingly shoulder our ungainly packs once more and made our leave over what was we knew was going to be a steep snowy ridge. What we didn’t know was that we would have a just as steep decent followed by another steep snowy ridge climb. The hike to Refugio Jakob was stunning, entertaining but equally tough, even with our now light-ish packs! Jakob was another beautiful spot but the melting snow had turned the surrounding area into somewhat of a mud pit and left finding a decent camping spot difficult, we did find a nice view spot though! Our final day was a gruelling 18km decent that turned into 21km when we couldn’t find a hitch at the end of the trail to take us back to town. Still we stumbled into Miguels house, our warm shower host, with giant smiles and great tans to boot. This last 5 days has been unbelievable for myself, I miss the high altitude climbing and Refugio Frey gave me the fix I needed even if I didn’t manage to scale any major peaks. Jess isn’t the biggest fan of this activity and I don’t think she fully realises how much I appreciate her spending the last 5 days in this environment pushing her comfort zone to the limits just so I can go just one ridge more or one false summit higher…
We have left the Carretera Austral and have made it to Futaleufu. Our latest start of the trip was from Puyhapi with us making full use of the wi-fi and hot showers before we hit the road, by the time we did get into the saddle the sun was in full force. Today was also the record for number of cycle tourists seen; we all amalgamated in the forecourt of a small petrol station, much to the annoyance of a few cars who didn’t seem to like a bunch of pesky bicycles taking over their area. In total there must have been over 12 of us milling around trading stories about how bad the roads were where they had come from, it was almost a competition, ahh you have some horrible stuff to ride from here, pfft, they haven’t seen Cerro Castillo! After the lengthy chat with the cyclists and a short bimble to the local bridge our day was done; we opted for a camp spot by a river, and as our time in Chile was drawing to an end I needed to swim in a Chilean river. This camp had everything we needed, including the Chilean version of the golden gate bridge as a backdrop to our very brief dip. We woke to ominous signs that our run of good weather was coming to an end. With a new found haste camp was packed and breakfast eaten hoping that we would at least start off dry. All too soon the rain hit us and it seemed that we would be ending our time on the Carretera Astral in the same conditions we started it, cold and wet. I find these kind of days mentally tough, it is as if my body is fuelled by sun, take that away and it’s far too similar to the UK, and I didn’t fly half way round the world to ride something that reminds me of home! Still with four of us it’s easier to keep going and before we knew it we were taking shelter in a barn eating lunch, a long lunch where we discussed the joys of cycle touring and how much fun we were all having! We did eventually leave the safety of the barn with the hope of finding a café in Villa Vanguardia, or at least some bread. Villa Vanguardia has nothing, even the people seemed to be missing; everything was locked up and shut down. It was as if everyone had upped and left, the only sign of life was a dog with dreadlocks, we named him Dog Marley and laughed far too hard at the Rasta-dog and our own pathetic jokes, this rain really was beginning to affect us. With no other option we pushed on. The Brazilians, to distract them form the dismal conditions, had developed their own entertainment in a version of cycle touring Mario cart, instead of banana skins they jettisoned water bottles, luckily Jess is now a skilled rider and was able to skirt round the trap with ease; looks like the Brazilians will need to try a little harder to slow her down next time. As our minds turned to food and sleep we began scouting for a place to find some form of shelter for the night, we were rewarded with our determination to keep going when we stumbled cross an old abandoned house, the floors were dry, it came with a small table and bench but best of all, a log burning stove. In a cycle tourists world this really was 5 star accommodation. After a cold wet day our spirits were soaring, that was until we realised we had no wine! After a night in relative comfort we packed and prepared for another day of rain, at least this time we would be on tarmac and not the ever-worsening washboard roads we had been trying to negotiate. I was able to practice my latest Spanish phrase ‘can we buy some bread please’ on multiple occasions, not because they didn’t understand me, just because nowhere had any bread. It was here that we also left the Carretera Austral for good, we also left the tarmac for an even worse washboard road. We bumped along wondering how our bikes were still in one piece, uphill’s were tough as you could not get into a rhythm and downhill’s were tough as you had to go at a snails pace so as not to risk braking the bike or ourselves. After what felt like hours we decided to throw in the towel and entered what we thought was a campsite. The place was abandoned, the ruminants of old shelters and fire pits were dotted about in a form of organised chaos that gave a glimpse to what the place used to be, the real icing on the cake, however, was the Cabañas. The once luxury accommodation only available to individuals with far bigger wallets than ourselves were also left. Luckily for us the doors to the once expensive huts had not been locked so once again we were able to sleep in relative comfort out of the wind and rain for free, there was even a note from 2014 from some other passing tourists saying of how they had taken shelter here. José, who has been sleeping on nothing more than foam roll matt, even had a mattress for the night, we really were lucking out on the accommodation front! The weather seemed slightly better in the morning, José was keen to take a few days in the cabañas, more due to his mattress than actual fatigue I feel, but any satisfaction from the weather was short lived when we got back on to the washboards, even the cars were struggling on this road. I felt as if I was cycling over a chain of never ending speed bumps, it was relentless. We lunched in the sun for the first time in a few days and watched some white water rafting pass by. With a mere 30km between us and a rest day it was hard to motivate ourselves to get up and go, the washboards just killed any desire to get back in the saddle.
We did eventually make it to Futaleufu and find a cheap guesthouse, it’s now time to rest, drink wine and say our goodbyes to Chile. The Brazilians are still with us and hopefully we will remain together as a four until Bariloche, from there who knows where we are going! We upped and packed with the first day of school nerves. This would be the first time we had cycled with anyone else. Not sure of the etiquette both ourselves and the Brazilians seemed apprehensive. For us the worry was that we would slow them down, they would race out of the gates and leave us eating their dust. This was not the case, we chatted about distances and how fast we each ride and although they average slightly more km than us a day they also ride for longer. Our paces were surprisingly similar and as the day wore on we relaxed into each other’s company. The road was paved for the start section however we soon found ourselves onto the trusty ripio with the views materialising all around. It was nice to have others to chat to on the road and share our experiences from the last 2500km. The boys came over the ‘paso roballo’ the one we were going to take until we found the ‘paso mayer’. Our mutual aim for the day was a Casa De Ciclista that we had heard about in Villa Maniguales; and if all else failed there was a CONAF free campsite. Both these places no longer existed. Up step our travelling companions/translators. They asked some locals and got told the cheapest place to camp, add this with some Brazilian charm that Joseph unleashed and we had camping with dinner and full use of the facilities. Sometimes it helps to be able to speak the language! Both Jess and I have found our morning routine to be getting later and later, this is even more prevalent with the inclusion of the Brazilians. If we leave camp before 10.30am we are doing well, this is not a bad thing, it’s nice having a leisurely start and my stomach is now accustomed to having a later dinner and no longer growls at me once we pass 5pm! This did promote some jokes about English tea from the Brazilians. Our second day with the Brazilians and we and managed a mighty 10km before a crowd of cyclists came by in the opposite direction, 8 of us in total took over the road as we chatted and exchanged stories, within the pack were two English men in their 60’s, one all the way from Stockport! It was now our time to shine, we haven’t spoken to so may native English speakers since arriving in South America and it was obvious it was a little too much for the Brazilians who were struggling to keep up, it was nice to be able to translate for them for once! We continued in much the same way until we found a campsite next to a lake. A night of luxury was in order as we were able to get in to a shelter that had a working door and glass windows, ideal with the inevitable rain finally catching up with us. I blame Jess for the change in the weather, she bought new sun-cream while it was still sunny, and since that day the weather has been deteriorating! We also tried our hand at fishing for the first time this trip, Joseph carries a rod on his bike so we tried our luck to no avail, I somehow managed to end up with the real in the lake while I stood holding the rod, fortunately Joseph was too busy crying with laughter to be concerned over the condition of his fishing equipment. The days have passed much the same way, leisurely starts, long lunches and wine filled evenings in accommodation of varying quality. So far riding as a four seems to be working out for all of us, we will see at which point our routes differ and we have to separate, until then we will keep riding and laughing at the multiple humorous situations a slight language gap provides! We left Puerto Tranquillo with mixed emotions, Ezzy was no longer with us, and although it was for the best we did find ourselves secretly hoping she would come bounding down the road and take up her usual position just off my back pannier. Alas, it was not to be, we left and immediately started climbing, this is quickly becoming the norm out of any town on this route, we also started through a stretch of road works where all they seemed to be doing was watering the road, at least any feeling of guilt over not cleaning the bikes on a rest day diminished as within seconds my rear derailleur was clogged and sounding horrible, at least the scenery was special! The weather was amazing over the next few days with us being able to get our legs out and start really cracking on with our tan lines. We even managed to see the local gauchos working the ranch, castrating the bulls. Jess didn’t seem to see what the problem was as I was wincing every time they did the deed. I couldn’t help feel a little bit of sympathy when the bulls took revenge and had the gauchos running. On more than one occasion a bull had them diving for the fence to avoid being rammed. It was just after this show that we witnessed our worst stretch of road to date, luckily for us it was a downhill but even that was a struggle. Loose rocks that had us skipping out on many occasion, I would hate to have to ride up this section. Again the scenery helped make up for this horrific road and we arrived at our first bit of tarmac in over 16 days of riding, our butts were overjoyed and to celebrate we ate the biggest hamburger we could find! From here we went in search of cheap accommodation, for 4000pesos each we were given a hot shower, a place to pitch our tent and then as much meat as we could eat courtesy of two of the local ranch hands, Chile really is the nicest country. We left Cerro Castillo knowing we were only 2 days away from our first big city, all that was in our way was the highest climb we would face on the Carretera Austral. We were told we had 8km of flat before the climb started, whoever told us this was not a cyclist, rule one of cycle touring, never trust a non cyclist when they tell you about what the road ahead is like. We slowly climbed before the switch backs kicked in with earnest. Up and up, higher and higher, we inched our way to the top knowing we had a good decent ahead of us. The one joy of climbing mountains is the views, you can almost guarantee you will be rewarded for your hard-work, this climb did not disappoint. The descent was fast and the views were awesome, this is why we cycle tour. The day held one more 10km climb before we were done and it was predominantly down hill, I say predominantly not fully as once again we had been told, there are still a few leg breaking climbs to do although they are short compared to what we had already done. It was as we came to the end of the day that we came across our first mechanical of the trip, I mean proper mechanical, not dodgy brakes or a funny noise that we can’t explain so we ignore, although this may have been why I had said mechanical! This was a real ’I can’t ride my bike any more, now what?’ The bearings in my pedals where shot. Ok, they had been making a funny noise since the day of rain but still, I just thought they needed some WD40, that stuff fixes everything, doesn’t it? With my bike placed in the universal distress position, upside down, we stuck out our thumbs. After 10 minutes or so we were loading the bikes into a pick up truck of a lady who was going for a ride in Coyhaique and happened to know where a good bike shop was that would be able to fix the problem, result! Coyhaique really is a proper town, it has two, that’s right, not one but two big supermarkets and everything else you expect from a big town. It even has a ‘casa de ciclista’. This is the most unusual place we have stayed in to date, it’s a hand built dome out of recycled material. The toilet is into a wheel barrow and the shower is from a stream, still, its was free and we were able to stay for a few days while our bikes were taking some R and R. There are two other cyclists staying at the Casa de Ciclista, two Brazilians, Daniel and Joseph. They speak very good English and are the first cyclists we have seen that are heading the same way as us, we have decided to ride north with them, well, until they realise how slow we are and leave us that is!
Fully rested and stuffed on snacks we were ready to give the Carretera Austral another chance. We loaded the bikes and rolled out as a 2 for the first time in a month, or so we thought… We had barely left Cochrane, granted we were already climbing, before we realised we had a new travelling companion. This one never moaned. Didn’t need to be taught how to pitch a tent or pack panniers. She was the ultimate lightweight traveller and she was with us for 120km. We called her Esmerelda after the lake that she found us by; Ezzy for short. The Carretera Austral did not disappoint. The relentless ups and downs continued on a road that went from smooth well-compacted mud to loose rocks that made riding hazardous at best. It felt like I was constantly wrestling a overweight child who wanted to go only to the side where the gravel is loosest. Non of this seemed to matter however as we had something else to focus on; Ezzy. She would race to the top of the hill where she would wait for us, if I even looked like thinking about setting off before Jess arrived she would give a small bark and start walking back down the hill towards the advancing Jess. On the longer stretches of downhill she would run as fast as she could to keep up, if we did manage to get a little far ahead of her she would give a yelp of protest. The funny thing is we found ourselves braking on the down hills, not wanting to get too far ahead of her, and here I was pretending we were trying to loose her! It took us just over two days to get to Peurto Tranquillo and the whole time the road was amazing, following the Rio Baker the kayaker in me was loving it, every turn showed yet more rapids in the bluest glacial melt waters. The road constantly climbing then descending back to the river banks. Still tough this road was continuing to give pristine vistas at every opportunity. It was in these 3 days that we also met the first harem of cycle tourists, they were all heading South for the Villa O’Higgins border crossing but it was nice to finally be able to chat to other cyclists and learn what we had ahead of us. We met 2 couples in as many days who were able to give us valuable information on what lies ahead. We also met our first Brazilians on this stretch, granted they were cruising in a 4x4 but still, the overwhelming friendliness of them put us in good sprits for when we finally get to Brazil. We descended into Peurto Tranquillo under cloud and rain and again bumped into the Brazilians, Ezzy still in tow after two nights of camping. Cold and damp we opted for a Hospedaje instead of our original plan of camping and we set about getting ourselves on a boat to see the Marble Caves. Ezzy wasn’t allowed into the Hospedaje so she was forced to make friends with the locals and sleep on the street. We felt guilty but at the same time we knew we couldn’t keep riding with her, no matter how much we wanted to. She also wasn’t allowed in the boat but that didn’t stop her trying. We got a boat trip that afternoon and off we set with some Americans and a snap happy lady from Ecuador, if every Ecuadorian is as keen on photographs as she was, we are in for an entertaining time through that country.
Cycling the Carretera Austral didn’t start off as planned. First we had to make a hasty exit form Villa O’Higgins as we had no Chilean Pesos and they didn’t except US dollars nor did they have any ATMs, luckily we were able to pay for our hostel and one supermarket in the town accepted card so we were able to buy supplies for the next 4 days on the road. It was with visible excitement that we hit the road, ready to take on the challenge that I had read about probably over a year ago. True to form the weather was at it’s Patagonian best, that being rain, we couldn’t complain though, this is renowned for being the wettest part of the Carretera Austral and very few people make it through without some form of down pour, this is also the first real bit of rain we have had. It just so happened that once the weather turned wet we also had our first mechanical, Jess’ front rack decided that it had had enough of ripio roads and spat its dummy out. Bent, snapped and broken beyond roadside repair we were left to re-adjust the weight and strap the contents that my self and Oli could not carry to the back of Jess’ bike, hoping the one front pannier wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience to her steering. By the time we had sorted this problem we were soaked and very cold. A quick lunch was taken in what I would call a glorified shed and that was about the highlight of the day. We rode with heads down as the water encroached over every inch of us, it found ways into our waterproofs, up our sleeves, down our necks, we just couldn’t get warm. Luckily for us we found a refugio, something the Carretera Austral is famous for. These are wooden shacks, if you will, that offer shelter from whatever weather you maybe experiencing; we dived in and battled to get a fire going. Without this luxury of a roof and fire I hate to think how miserable our first night on this iconic road would have been, especially for myself as I was now feeling less than ideal health wise. With the fire roaring I retreated to my sleeping bag hoping I could sleep off whatever it was that was wrong with me. I couldn’t sleep it off. I awoke with no motivation or energy, to call me useless would have been a compliment. By the time we should have been setting off and Jess and Oli were packed I was still sat with four open panniers not really knowing what to do with myself. I did eventually get my kit sorted and got on the road, luckily the weather was far kinder to us today and the sun was out to play. The next 4 days were a struggle, I had no appetite and was beginning to feel the rumblings of a dodgy stomach, and to make it worse Oli began with the same symptoms only 24 hours behind me. As stunning as the road was it was brutally tough. Jess held the camp together doing more than her fair share of cooking, tent erecting and washing up. Myself and Oli did more than our fair share of lying down. Every lunch stop ended with us both horizontal while Jess handed us food; that we either picked at or point blank refused. On the 4th day Oli had had enough, he decided, with his imminent departure only a few days away, a hitch to the next town in order to sort and pack his bike and be in better condition to travel. All that was left was for Jess to put me in the hurt locker and make sure we did the necessary distance before I led back down in order to wave Oli off. We rolled into Cochrane in the nick of time and met up with Oli before his departure. I was also starting to feel human again, the hills no longer had me cascading through my gears and I also managed to climb out of the smallest chain ring. We had a somewhat baptism of fire in the first four days of the Carretera Austral, the road I had tried so hard to get to, the hills are steep but the scenery is unbelievable, I am nowhere near good enough with the camera to do it justice, especially when lacking in motivation to do even the most mundane tasks never mind get my camera out. Although we all suffered, Jess was kind enough to let us know the hills were tough even when not sick, I am so happy we have managed to ride from Villa O’Higgins. It was a shame that Oli’s last few days on the bike with us were tarnished by illness but I’m sure he will be looking back remembering how good this stretch was. It’s been great having Oli on the road with us and I’m sure we’re going to miss his general disorganised approach to cycle touring life. Jess and I have now opted to take 2 rest days Cochrane to do absolutely nothing but eat and watch films, hopefully this will let me fully recover so that I can really enjoy what is next on the Carretera Austral.
Turns out all you need to fix toothache is an injection in the bum! Not 100% sure if something was lost in translation along the way or he just wanted a closer look and my toned bum after all the miles we have ridden but whatever he did it worked. We had a last super of pizza and then we were off, route 40 was the same monotonous road, miles of straight lines with a head wind and we couldn’t wait to try our hand at some real South American roads and get onto the 35. All we had to do was churn out the 80km or so till we got there. We camped the first night just off the side of the road taking what little shelter a drainage ditch would offer us, hoping that over night there wasn’t a sudden change in the weather. Turns out there was to be a surprise up the sleeve of the cycling gods, the cold, wet, snowy weather we thought we had left behind returned. We awoke to 3 inches of snow. We opted for a lie in, in the hope the sun would come back to play. With a slight improvement we upped and left hoping that the river crossing we knew lay ahead would not become impassable. The problem with ‘ripio’ roads is that they transform from dusty bum rattling ride to a consistency that would be great if it was drizzled over your chocolate cake or sticky toffee pudding, you know the kind that makes your jaw ache. It’s not great to try and ride bikes through. Here we struck our first problem, Oli’s bike, being the cleanest, seemed to like the mud so much it decided to collect the treacle like sludge around his mud guards to the point that his wheel was unable to spin. We attacked this gloop with ferocity, scraping, kicking and swearing at it, but in the end it turned out removing the mud guards was the best plan of attack, ironic really, mud guards causing the problem with the mud. By the time we had come to this solution Oli had already put his legs through hell and had been basically riding with a brake on for the best part of 20km, even with the mud somewhat cleared our legs were done. This pass was already starting to look a little too much for us and we had barely started. On a positive note, we did have a tail wind and the snow was no longer with us. We retired to the tents early in the hope that the worst was over, and the snow had passed us by. By morning the clouds had gone but in came problem number 2. Head wind. I know this blog is going to be getting repetitive about this damn wind but it seems our old nemesis was back to haunt us. This was Oli’s first real taste of Patagonian wind and oh how he had his fill, for 50km we battled on, I was having horrible flash backs to the start of the trip, luckily this time I had someone to share the pain with as the only way to make progress was a chain gang approach. Jess has also learnt she definitely doesn’t like wind and took on the persona of a moody 13 year old in her way to cope. If I ever have children I never want a girl, moody girls make the wind look like a pussy cat! Even with moody girls, tired legs, wheels full of gloop and head winds we managed to get to the boarder crossing, not before taking our first dip to cross one of the, I don’t know how many, rivers. This pass really was throwing everything at us. On another positive note, the scenery was unbelievable, this has probably been my favourite part of the trip so far, I felt like we were not only off the tourist track but also the cycle tourist track, forging our own route. It also helped that I didn’t seem to be hurting as much as the other two, things are always better when someone is hurting more than you… Camping at the border we were approached by a weathered gent, this man looked like he had spent a few winters out here and to our amazement he spoke English. It turns out the land we would be crossing was part of his estancia, that’s a fancy word for big farm Mum, he asked us how we heard about it and what our plan for the rivers were. We explained we had been told about a bridge through a blog. This bridge, it happens, belongs to him and it is what he uses to move his sheep from one area to another. He also explained that this bridge was private and cyclists don’t really have permission to use it, in fact he couldn’t guarantee it would be there much longer as it was coming to the end of its life. He explained his concerns over it being heavily used and somebody having an accident. After using this bridge, that he said we could, his concerns it seems are very real. The bridge is not designed for humans and it made for a worrisome crossing, not as worrisome as trying to ford this stretch of river however. The 14km of pathless terrain was not much fun. We pushed more than we cycled. We crossed rivers and marshes. Went up and down loose gravel tracks with rocks the size of babies’ heads. And finally, to top this stretch off we pushed for 3km through thorn bushes only to find a fence that we had to unload and then reload our bikes after passing them over. Cycle touring at its best eh. It took us over 5 hours and it was the longest 14km of our lives but we arrived in Chile without entering the country illegally which is a bonus. Even more of a surprise was how little damage we seemed to have done to the bikes or ourselves. One puncture was our total cost and that went to Oli who isn’t rolling on Shwablle Marathon Plus tyres, looks like my run of bad luck I had in Asia is now over! From the border post we decided to actually try riding our bikes, turns out they make walking really difficult. We managed 10km before we realised how much this crossing had taken out of us. We came across an estancia and asked to camp for the night. Here we witnessed Chilean hospitality at its best, not only did they allow us to camp, they supplied us with wine and coke and threw in a chicken to boot! This made every meter of that 14km worth it. I don’t think they realised just how grateful we were just for a fizzy sugary drink never mind the food and fresh bread. Oli was also made up as he was given his daily dose of caffeine that he would have had to go without; he had used the last of his coffee the previous morning this also made Jess and I happier as Oli without caffeine is not a pretty sight! The final 40km wasn’t easy but it was stunning. With food supplies pretty much non-existent, and snacks dangerously low for my liking we dragged ourselves into Villa O’Higgins tired, no, beyond tired, exhausted but we had done it. I have seen pictures of the ferry crossing from Lago del Desierto, the normal way cyclists get to Villa O’Higgins, the unpaved stretch you have to negotiate there, I wouldn’t like to say which is tougher or which is worse. All I know is we have done in excess of 400km extra to get to where the other crossing goes but without that we wouldn’t be able to ride the Carretera Austral. Now we can see what all the fuss is about. Not after a day or so to recover mind…
We arrived in El Calafate in preparation for my old friend from home to join us. Turns out we are stronger than we expected and arrived 10 days early… O well, a few days in a hostel to fully recover and a trip to the Peurto Morino glacier. Not bad but not the best thing we have done; in hindsight cycling to the glacier would have been better and a whole lot cheaper but we wanted to see what it’s like to be a normal backpacker. Once we had filled our boots with tourist attractions and made the most of a warm comfy room, we re-packed the bikes and went to explore the local back roads. This was mainly to stop our spending as we were bleeding cash being around so many snack shops and bakeries. The first night we slept on the shores of ‘Lago Argentino’ and with it a failed attempt at a swim, glacial water is cold and the weather is still not tropical shall we say. From here it was onto the ‘ripio’ and up hill, and I mean straight up hill. The steepest climb to date had us almost beaten; I blame the excess food we were carrying, I didn’t want to risk running out of snacks again. From here we picked up a travel companion for well over 15km. Hector as we named him, one of the many street dogs, ran alongside us never venturing too far away, and always coming back to check on us. At one point I thought we may have a new travel buddy for the rest of the trip, however, a tasty looking lamb caught his attention and we lost him on a downhill stretch while he went looking for dinner. He wasn’t too impressed with our meagre rations of cheese sandwiches it turns out. As we cycled on we came across a free camp site with amazing views over ‘Lago Argentino’, this place, coupled with the sun that had come out to play meant we took a rest day doing nothing more than trying to get some colour on our now pasty white bodies. The legs thoroughly enjoyed being out again; it may be time to start up the tan lines… A few days of playing around and it was time to return for the expected arrival of Oli, all went to plan and before we knew it the bikes were built and we were ready to head out on the open road again. This time El Chalten was our aim and after a few days of very little wind we hoped our run of good weather would continue. We managed to get out of the waterproofs but not quiet in full summer cycling kit yet. Amazingly for my self and Oli we managed to meet up with no incidents. Anyone who knows Oli and I will be aware that we are not the best at logistics, i mean, the whole idea for him to come cycle with us started after 5 pints, this is how most of our plans come about it seems... It was great to have an extra person on the roads with us, cycling in a 3 reminded both Jess and I of Asia and cycling with Jamie, don’t worry mate we haven’t replaced you ;) this one’s useless haha. We were hoping to impress Oli with our superior fitness and bike handling skills but turns out he went for a sneaky training camp in the Pyrenees before coming, looks like I’ll be hiding behind him in the winds! That being said it has refreshed our relationship with the roads and encouraged us to plough on a little more than we have been doing. We arrived in El Chalten tired but happy, our biggest day on the bike of this trip and even a brief spell riding into a head wind so Oli can say he has had the true Patagonian experience. Albeit; only for 10km and we were still able to ride rather than push, I’m not complaining though… We had hoped to stay in a ‘Ciclsta’ similar to the one in Tolhuin; unfortunately we were told that the lady who owns the place was away. We spent our time planning which treks to do and again recuperating doing not much. The next day we set off once again with packs on our backs hoping to get good weather in order to see the famous ‘Fitz Roy’ and “Cerro Torre’. We were lucky with the weather and the trail was relatively easy going so we made good time, that and we now had an extra body to share the weight with. A slight side tour to a glacial lake, Oli and myself reverted back into the 13 year olds we once were and turned it into a competition of who could climb the biggest boulder, I wouldn’t like to pick a winner, there were some very worried faces at times though, mainly from Oli! The hiking trip was unfortunately cut short due to an attack of tooth-ache that had me awake for most of the night, no tooth ache was going to stop me seeing sunrise on Fitz Roy though, especially with clear weather materialising. It also helped that I was already awake and trekking took my mind of the pain in my jaw. A quick trip to the local dentist communicating through Google translate, always a nervous time when you’re trying to make a guy who is drilling in to your teeth aware what the problem seems to be. Luckily the dentist seemed to fix the problem and we didn’t have to waste too many days, Mumma Bury had also spoilt us with the best meal we have eaten so far on the trip so I was glad I was able to chew the delicious steak rather than having to opt for soup! Thanks again Mumma Bury, you don’t understand how much we appreciated such a luxury that otherwise would never have been in our budget! The infamous cycle route from El Chalten takes you on a ferry ride to a pathless destination where cyclists push, grunt and kick their bikes over the hill to another ferry that will take them to Villa O’Higgings. It is renowned in the cycle touring world and is almost a badge of honour. We will not be doing this route as the ferry does not run until November, to say I was disappointed was an understatement and I have spent every opportunity scrutinising maps willing a route to appear that wouldn’t mean missing too much of the Carretera Austral. Finally this plain stubbornness paid off, with a small amount of research we learnt of a little used pass that will take us to a mere 40km away form Villa O’Higgins, granted there are warnings against this route, especially in summer when it becomes impassable due to river levels, luckily for us though we are here in Winter/spring, the rivers are still fordable, we think. All we know is there is a Indiana Jones esq bridge to get us over the deepest river and we have 12km of pathless ground before we enter Chile. I was hooked and with very little persuasion Jess was keen as well. Oli, well Oli is happy as long as he has a coffee so I made sure I put the idea to him at prime time and he was only too keen. Now to the downside of this route, I know what down side could there be to no route and impassable rivers eh? Well there is, what should have taken us maybe 100km will take us over 500km. With our plan set we rolled out with new found gusto, I had a new tooth and we had a route to take us to the famous Carretera Austral, all was good with the world, even the cycle gods agreed and gifted us a tail wind as we rode out. Step up our new biggest day to date 131km. We could almost taste the border crossing. Almost, but not quite. Cycle touring has a habit of luring you in to a false sense of security; one Oli was soon to find out. His sneaky training camp in the Pyrenees was a thing of the past, cycle touring is a whole different beast to tame, Oli was now going cold turkey form his electrolyte drinks and energy gels, his legs were feeling every kilogram on his bike rather than the grams he was used to on his roadie, his body was re-training itself to make the most of the sugary junk we consumed to keep our energy levels up, this may also be a contributing factor to my teeth that have once again begun to ache. A tough few days for Oli but he dug deep and gritted his teeth, it’s never fun when your hurting but he understood that the only way was to keep going, his disposition with camping also wasn’t helping, he has huge kit envy over both Jess and my sleeping mats, thanks Pannier CC, another great bit of advice and kit you helped us with. We rolled in to our last stop before the “epic border crossing” (read this in an over the top game show voice for effect) I am hoping to see another dentist to sort this tooth, failing that I may try the same approach as Tom Hanks in Castaway and take a rock to it… The sun is shining and the weather is looking good, I have even had the legs and arms out for the first time, let the tanning commence.
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AuthorDanny and Jessica living the nomadic dream. Archives
September 2017
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