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Resist the rain
Entry 179 of 200 | show all | print this entry |
Our journey east takes us on a straight highway sloping slightly south to the Corrientes province of Argentina. There was not much of interest along the way but we did enjoy watching the scenery change from tropical like forests to farmland to desert to signs of the jungles while making a few spots home for a night.
We looked for a more interesting route but any side roads only went into a town and ended there although we are aware of a national park upon one of the mountains which involves crossing a couple of rivers to get to a protected area where toucans and other tropical wildlife live including a million biting black flies and mosquitos. Sorry toucans but not this time; we'll see you at the next place. Thank you Manfred and Christina for the warning; unfortunately our fellow over landers had their excitement for toucans bitten out of them by the pesky flies.
The farms here are commercially run and it seems by one company. We did not find out whether the local peoples sold out or never did make use of all the land and big company's saw the opportunity and moved in. Only a couple of towns along the way seem to be successful as supply and service centers while the others are small basic communities with a few adobe buildings unlike the more modern version down the highway.
Our first night was spent near Tacapozo at an ACA which is Argentina's Auto Club who often have campgrounds but in this case there was a gas station and a rest area with picnic facilities. We parked here for the night entertained only by a family next door who spent the evening outside talking, playing with the children and later the teens stood out and listened to music for awhile but it seems out here in the countryside people know when to go to bed because by midnight the world around us was quiet and we slept well.
The next morning within our first 60 kms. we passed through two police check stops. The first was a request to see our papers and a few questions to find out where we are coming from and where we are going. Funny questions really but I guess our answers are important. Sometimes we forget where we've been and where we are going and we look at each other saying DAH.... because most of the time we are just somewhere in nature and didn't take notice of what important city we should have noticed in order to answer such difficult questions. Dom gets his grin on and points to gesture from back there and to up there but they want names of real towns. Well it's not rally that bad but you get the drift. Actually we always have good experiences with these guys and they want to be helpful. The second stop was the most thorough we've ever experienced. A nice young policeman spent about a half hour chatting with us as he opened this and that, unpacked, queried and repacked very carefully sometimes better than it was. We asked what he was looking for but we didn't get a real answer but we assume they always look for drugs, contraban and weapons. We hear stories of travellers being greeted badly and asked for money. It must happen and maybe Gillie's presence is a factor in our favor.They don't know whether she will bite their nose off or lick it. After the inspection was over he warned us about the rough condition of the road, lack of gas stations and the presence of protesters stopping trucks from travelling but will allow us to pass for the next 300 kms.
We were fine in every way; we didn't run out of gas, we didn't get stuck and the demonstration was peaceful. We continued to enjoy the scenery as it changed from farmland to a more desert terrain with cacti, corn crops, and a peculiar crop of kilns. There were so many adobe brick kilns everywhere which seemed to be used for burning wood into a charcoal. The popular vehicles around here are wooden carts pulled by a burros. This is country life as seen by these carts and the roadside life with chickens, goats, pigs, burros, horses, cattle and the ever visible dog.
Our exciting day ends at an Eco Campground just off the highway on the edge of a town named Quitilipi. The campground looked closed because noone was around and the facilities were locked but we found the owners or custodians who said we can camp and the Senora immediately unlocked doors and freshened the bathrooms for us.
The highway outside of Quitilipi is lined with furniture making shops and piles of a dark reddish brown wood cut and ready for use. This is definitely the wood treatment and wood products area although the homes are made of adobe bricks not wood.
A short drive to Resistencia gets into town early enough to get a sense of the space, shop and get settled in the municipal campground. Before we were settled we met and visited with a Swiss family just leaving the campground and going the direction we came from. An American woman walking by on the street spotted us in the campground and came to our site where we spent some time learning about each other.
We spent six days here busying ourselves with chores, resting and for a couple of days hiding from the rains. We can't remember when we last experienced thunder storms with rains so heavy it made lakes everywhere.
One morning we thought we might find ourselves in the middle of a lake but instead found that the water seeped away. The young hippies next to us were fussing most of one night when rain obviously soaked them through because in the morning they had everything hanging or laid out on the trees. Naturally we felt sorry for them but they handled their situation really well and by the ever so light whiff of some herb being smoked we knew they were fine.
Our neighbors, when they weren't consoling themselves were quite industrious in making jewelry and other trinkets. I broke down and purchased a few pieces of knotted string and beaded bracelets which must have made them very happy because the next morning they presented us with a gift, a little dream catcher especially made for Eve, a smaller cuter version of the bigger ones they normally make.
We had a really nice stay here and all good places lead to other good places.
Our next good place will be somewhere in the Corrientes.
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