Rio Grande
There’s nothing better than waking up to the smell of coffee and toast, and I
eagerly crawled out of bed. An excellent breakfast was included in the room price
(in Argentina, a typical breakfast usually consisted of coffee and croissants, or other
pastries). At least the weather cleared, but the relentless wind didn’t abate –
maybe it never does. Nothing could prepare you for what is in store, regardless of
what you read or hear about the wind. If it weren’t that Ernest and I’d battled into
storm-strength wind day upon day along the Red Sea Coast of Egypt, I wouldn’t
have believed such a wind possible.
I could feel a bout of laryngitis coming on (maybe from breathing all the icy air)
and was pleased for a day of rest. Priority was finding a bike shop to replace the
gear cables. The friendly chap at the bike shop advised fitting off-road tyres for the
dirt road ahead. Unfortunately, he could only get the tyres the following day.
Leaving the bike at the shop was no problem as the wind speed was between
and 100 kilometres per hour. (I kid you not!)
Rio Grande – 19 km
Once the bike was fixed, I was ready to roll. Regrettably, the wind won the day.
After battling 10 kilometres out of town, I eventually gave up and returned to Rio
Grande. Cycling wasn’t simply hard but also too dangerous and scary as the wind
blew me like a rag across the highway.
Hostel Argentino was slightly less expensive than where I’d stayed before and made
an excellent place to wait out the weather. Three more cyclists were heading in the
same direction and waiting for a break in the weather. Watching the weather
forecast, there appeared no hope of the wind subsiding. We, thus, had no other
choice but to wait. In the meantime, some fine red wine was enjoyed and war
stories swapped, which became more impressive as more wine was consumed.