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Trip Start Apr 17, 2006

Trip End Jun 14, 2006

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Flag of Argentina Parana, Argentina
Saturday, May 20, 2006

The ride between Santa Fe and Paran� (not to be confused with P�nama, somewhere else altogether - there are neither hats nor canals here as far as I can make out) was a pleasant few kilometres over marshy land with an appealing countdown view of the impending city, plonked on a hill over the eponymous river. Packhorse was banned from the tunnel under said river, so we hitched a lift with a very impressed lorry driver, who couldn't even manage to cycle to the bus stop, apparently (and obviously never had, for if so, he might have wondered what to do with his bicycle upon arrival). At the other end of the tunnel there lurked a tourist office, so I tentatively made my way inside, my expectations lowered considerably following my experience in Santa Fe. However, the lady within couldn't help me enough, foisting upon me leaflets on shooting, sports fishing, 5* estancias and all sorts of other things that really didn't interest me in the slightest. However, she was also very proactive in orientating me to the city and marking loads of cheap hotel on the map for me, so I made it known to her how much better she was than the guy in Santa Fe

A heads up to the inhabitants of Parana

.

I rolled into the city as darkness fell, and decided that since I had so many accommdation options, I might as well be choosy. I resolved to stay only in somewhere whose receptionist could manage to greet with a smile, every sonrisa being like gold to the lonely independent traveller. The guy in the first place I tried was as grumpy as a cyclist riding into the wind, so I declined it and tried elsewhere. The next place was smilier, but full. "Full? How can this be?" I ordained. "Everywhere I have ever been in Argentina has been completely empty! Everyone is staying indoors out of the 'cold' Argentine winter! How can somewhere be full?" But full it was, as was the next place, and the next, and in fact every single hotel I went into. Eventually I had revised me enquiry to the more negative "you don't have a room, do you?" so as to soften the blow. One place accounted for their lack of vacancies because there was a race on at the autodrome, while another said everyone had flocked to Rosario for a rollerskating show (this I doubted). It became clear that I would have to bung my tail between my legs and return to the place I had originally declined upon the trivial whim of a moody receptionist, as it was the only place that hadn't turned me away. But - you guessed it - by the time I got back, it was full too. I believe this is often referred to as "getting one's comeuppance". Well I got mine good and proper (was that a smug smile I detected on the receptionist�s face?)

In the park

. By this time I was desperate. I considered going in somewhere and crying - surely seeing a grown man cry would be enough to make anyone set up a cot on the floor in the foyer?

Now I've got you on tenterhooks, dying to know what happened next. Was I forced to find a park bench? Or to cycle around interminably all night? Find a 24hr supermarket and sleep in the toilets? "But no, he's got his tent, I bet he just set his tent up somewhere and camped, surely that's the most sensible option, that's what I'd've done." "Yeah but what about his bike, and all his luggage, in a city, it's not safe, is it?" "Well there's no other option, everywhere's full." Are you ready, readers? Are you ready for the dramatic climax of the story? I paid for a double room, cos they still had one of them left.

Next morning I saw the sights of Paran�, a very attractive place, with a fancy catherdral and nice park over the river, and stopped into the provincial tourist office to see if there were any more lowdowns on offer. Indeed there were - another fantastically helpful lady insisted on giving me town plans and writing out accommodation options for every single place I planned to visit between here and Uruguay. Here's a shout out to the Parana Tourism Authority!