Day 4 Lago Hua Hum to Catritre, campsite from hell: 36.5 miles 3000 feet climbing
Back from a Brief Interlude of Donkeys to a lakeside tent. A day off the bike has done wonders to restore energy after the leg-busting ride of the previous day. It was also New Year’s Day 2019 and, the chance to sit quietly by the lakeside, reflecting and soaking up the sunshine was too good to pass up. It’s time to move however and the next morning we’re up early(ish) and packing to leave. As often happens at this point we’re befriended firmly by a large family from the next pitch. On seeing our bikes they are instantly full of questions. Continue reading
The last post saw us relaxing by a lake in the middle of the Andes after a tough few days of riding. The tent is still pitched, but this is a brief break to return to Buenos Aires For Christmas.
I love spending Christmas in a different country. At home, it’s a holiday I can take or leave but somehow, the tinsel and festivities become way more magical when caught up in the theatre of a different culture. I have to say the 30+ degree (Celsius) heat also goes a long way towards my enjoyment of a Latin American Christmas too.
So, when the opportunity for a 3 week break cycling and sightseeing in Argentina comes along, I grab the chance. Continue reading
I absolutely, definitely wasn’t going to write a ‘New Year’s’ post this year. As the dull, wet pall of January settles over us the last thing I want to do is make/write about well-meaning promises to myself (usually involving the reduction chocolate intake) which I resolutely know I’m not going to keep.
But I have written, and I blame Facebook. If you’re a user of you’ll know that there’s a ‘Your Memories’ feature, an impish bit of coding which means that photographs of you having a great time – holidays, parties, nights out etc pop up on their annual anniversary, usually coinciding, a year or so later with a bout of flu or a stressful work deadline. ‘Look’ it says, your life used to be fun.
And that’s what happened. Three years ago, before the ‘C’ (covid) word was even uttered I’d managed to swap the cold and wet of an English New Year to go cycle touring in the summer sun of Argentina, or so I presumed. Continue reading