Rute 14 - Argentina

Trip Start Oct 20, 2009
Trip End Jun 23, 2010

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Where I stayed
Brisas Del Litoral

Flag of Argentina  , Corrientes,
Monday, December 14, 2009


We got away quite early, but got separated when Des stopped for petrol. As I was leading the way out of town, I saw him nip into the station in my rear vision mirror and thought I would meet him a little further out of town as arranged. But when he didn't show up after 20 minutes or so, I had to ride back into town through all the one way streets to find him. He had just left the station looking for me, so I pulled in for fuel, as I was on reserve by this time. Luckily, he came back into town and saw me at the station. As our Com System was not working at this time, it brought home to us both, how clear we have to be with our arrangements for the day. I got a bit upset about the botch up, and we lost a good hour of riding time.

We crossed the border out of Brazil and into Argentina at Uruguaiana, without any hick-ups. The border crossings are in the same building here, not a few kilometers apart, as at other borders, which made it easy. They are also on computers so the paperwork was seamless. We also had an agent help us from one country to another for which we tipped him $10. This kind of help is invaluable to us, because instead of waiting behind the bus load of Brazilians who had just come in, the agent took us straight to the Official who processed our immigration (to get us into Argentina) and then took us to the Carnae area ( to process our bikes into the country). We high-fived each other that it had gone so well.

As the heat of the day was kicking in, and our bikes were parked in the sun, we got on our way as soon as possible, now on Rute 14 towards Buenos Aires. The road was good for the most part, only challenging at the road works, of which there were many. The detours were muddy, gravelly and slow, and we were often caught behind slow moving trucks. It’s going to be a super highway when it’s all finished. The road workers love the bikes and wave their flags vigorously when we pass. If we have to stop, to allow the traffic from the other side to pass, people get out of their cars to question where we’re from and where we’re going.

With the highway being under repair in so many places, it was difficult to get to the other side, but Des noticed a Hotel, Brisas Del Litoral, on the other side of the highway, in Mocoreta, and since we had already traveled 434 km that day, we decided to head over there to rest for the night. It meant going across a makeshift bridge which was very pebbly and narrow with one way traffic. That done, we booked into this 'hotel’ at $17 AUS per night.

When the owner-lady showed us into our room, the mosquitoes must have thought "mm mm chow time!" as they buzzed about furiously. It was an amazing little dive, but the shower worked, with “hot” and “cold” written in red texta on the wall, and a squeegee close by to scrape the water out of the bedroom, while we showered because, the floor level was sloping toward the bedroom. The toilet paper got soaked, as the toilet, vanity and shower were in one area with no curtain or screen. The air conditioner worked, in fact was like a wind tunnel and the overhead fan was nice and low, so we got the full benefit of it! We just couldn’t put our hands up too high, for fear of loosing a finger.

We sat outside with the guard dog (guarding the chickens from predators, I suppose, she was on a long chain and was also guarding the BMW’s). The fantastic looking rooster rounded up his girls and put them all to bed in the hen house. Des was confident that he would be giving us an early morning reminder call at about 5am, but I felt sure we wouldn’t hear it over the air conditioner.

We went for a stroll to the local shops to get some mosquito spray and a bottle of red wine for Des. Unfortunately I overloaded the plastic shopping bag Des was carrying with my camera, and the bottom gave way and the bottle of red wine crashed onto the highway.  The shop keeper was delighted to see Des back again so soon. We sat outside the ‘hotel’ and ate the oranges given to us by the factory-hand next door who wanted to know how much the bikes cost.
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Joe Leeuwrik on

Never trust plastic bags with glas bottles or jars.

Ann on

No point cryin' over spilt red wine!

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