Beautiful mountain passes, stunning scenery, remote villages, a festival, a spot of pampering and passing 10,000 km’s would be some of the many highlights as I finished my ride along Argentina’s spectacular Ruta 40. 

When I had arrived in Chilecito,  after 5 days of cycling thorough what was essentially a desert in +40C degrees, I was tired and dehydrated. It is amazing though how quickly my body recovered, or my mind forgot!!!, and after a rest day I was raring to go again.  

The morning that I left I wasn’t planning on going far as I was close to achieving the goal of having cycled 10,000 km through 9 countries and  across 3 continents, although when I arrived in Chilecito I had not known it. It was only when I was replacing the brake pads on my bike that I had flicked through the menu on my handlebar speedometer that I realised that I had been just 20km short of reaching 10,000km.

It was time to celebrate and on my map I had seen a hotel called Posada del Olivio. It was an old Finca with period rooms, a lake, manicured grounds and a swimming pool.  I thought that this would make a fitting stop to mark reaching the 10,000 km milestone. 

The Posada was just over 20km from Chilecito near the village of Nonogasta and as I was through the village I passed the milestone

By the side of the road they were busy barbecuing chicken and if they had been ready I would have bought one as they smelled delicious

The Posada had an entrance gate where I had to ring the bell and wait for somebody to come to open up for me.

There is something slightly opulent about staying at a place that has an entrance gate as it adds a sense of excitement as you wait for one of the staff to come out and open up for you. 

The posada turned out to be everything that I had hoped it to be with a lovely pool

Beautiful rooms with a great lounge area 


A lake

Grape vines

And lots of old farming equipment scattered around the manicured grounds

The only thing that could may have improved the place was being here in winter sat in front of a roaring fire

The other thing which was a bit strange was that the name of the hotel was a bit misleading as it translates as the ‘House of Olives’ but there were no olives growing there.  When I asked the owners, who are brilliant by the way, it turns out that the husband is a manager of two olive plantations in the area and hence the name.

In the future, they said that they plan to renovate the wine cellar, that is located under the main building, into a wine, cheese and olive degustation area, and that will be a fantastic addition to the whole experience.

The posada only has 6 rooms and if you are ever passing this way, and fancy a bit of pampering for a night, I would add the Posada del Olivio to your itinerary.

The next morning it was time to get off my ‘luxury cloud’ and get on with cycling my way through Argentina. Even if I could afford to stay at places like the Posado every night, which I can’t, I don’t think I would as you are cocooned from the reality which is life in Argentina.  There was no loud music all night, no smell of people barbecuing and not a bottle of coca cola in sight. 

Don’t get me wrong, it was a fantastic place to spend the night but I had come to South America to see it in its raw beauty and staying at the posada had been just part of getting that full experience.

I had planned on getting an early start to beat the heat of the day but by the time I had had a swim before enjoying a breakfast of fresh pastries and real coffee it was nearly 11am by the time I set off. 

I had also not checked the map and so the 1100m climb I faced that morning came as a bit of a surprise.

When I left the village of Nonogasta the road headed due west towards Chile and this marked my introduction to cycling in La Cordillerra de los Andes. I was cycling at around 800m elevation and in a week or so I would have to ride my final pass which would take me close to 4000m once again.

Today though in front of me was a mountain range that I wasn’t expecting.  Since descending off the Puna I had followed valleys without really ever having to climb over the peaks of the mountain ranges that framed them on either side.

As I crossed this valley Ruta 40 took me to the foot of the mountains and started to climb instead of turning south following the river’s path as it had done for the past couple of weeks

I could have checked the map to see what lay ahead but after cycling Ruta 40 for the past few weeks I had given up checking routing as I was just following this road.  Plus, what lay ahead, lay ahead and when the road started to climb my first thought was that I was looking forward to heading into the mountains, if only to get out of the midday heat.

This part of the Ruta 40 is known as ‘The Cuesta de Miranda’, which translates as the ravine of the River Miranda.  When I later researched this part of the ride it turned out that in the 1920’s when a road was originally built over the mountain by the Italian engineer Francisco Bolloli, with picks and spades no less, the pass was notorious for its difficulty – a very narrow road with steep gradients that clung to the side of a ravine that in winter would be covered in snow and ice.

The road remained this way until the early 2000’s when it was widened and sealed to improve safety along the route. Today, the road literally does ‘cling’ to the side of the valley for most of the climb as when it was widened the road now hangs from the abrupt walls of the ravine.

There is something that is beautiful about cycling through mountains that is not the same as when you ride through the bottom of the valley.  I don’t know whether it is the extra effort that it takes to make you really appreciate the landscape, or wha,t but I have found on this ride that cycling over mountain passes are special.

The climb started out on a relatively easy gradient as it roller coastered its way through the valley

The red landscape was stunning

The steepness of the road then cranked up as I headed to the summit which lay at just over 2000m

Here the road was literally clinging to the side of the mountain as below was nothing but air for hundreds of metres

The view  of the river as it snaked it’s way through the ravine below was special


After a couple of hours of climbing I came to the sign which marked the end of the climb

From here it was a downhill fest for 30km that I didn’t need to bother pedaling as gravity pushed me on through a series of red, iron rich, valleys.

Even the wind gods were smiling on me as I reached the valley floor and with the strong wind still pushing me from behind I was rolling along at nearly 30kmph

While climbing over the mountain pass I had once again put my front panniers back on as I find that it is easier to push a load up a hill than pull it up.  As the wind was now behind me I had left them to add more surface area to ry and catch the wind as I crossed the valley floor (every little helps)

I had now reached my target of 100 km for the day and up ahead I could see a village that turned out to be Villa Union.  In keeping with the Argentinian siesta theme when I cycled into the village at just after 5pm everything was shut and there was not a soul in site. 

I needed a cold drink and the only place that I could find that was open was the petrol station. Petrol stations in Argentina are for me like Mcdonalds were in New Zealand in the sense that they always have free wifi and good coffee (Mcdonalds in New Zealand serve coffee made from freshly ground beans !!!)  It also had ice cream, beer and air conditioning and so provided me with everything I needed after another long hot day in the saddle.

Once my thirst had been quenched I headed off to find somewhere to sleep.  There was a campsite in town but when I cycled past the stereos were already getting cranked up so decided to give it a miss.  After enquiring at a couple of hostels I decided that the best value for money was Hotel Valle Colorado. 

Compared to the Posado Del Olivio the night before it was nowhere near to the same level of luxury, but for 400 peso I got all that I needed – a  room with real walls (as opposed to chipboard), a double bed and hot water.  Even the neighbours turned out to be from Switzerland, which hopefully meant that their TV would not be blasting out dance music at 2am.

After a great night’s sleep the next day I was in no rush to set off as I only planned to cycle 50km to the town of Guandacol.  

The wind that had been so kind to me the day before had swung around 180 degrees overnight and would be blowing hard directly at me.  I removed the front panniers from the bike and packed all of my stuff into the rear ones to make the bike slightly more aerodynamic.

The mountains when I finally hit the road had a tinge of purple in them

After climbing my way out of the ‘purple’ valley it was another downhill run all the way to Guandacol as the town lay spread out across the valley floor.

I had only cycled 40km but the colour of the mountains that I had cycled through had changed many times in that short distance.

As I descended to the valley floor I was now cycling through an area of sand dunes

In front of me in the bottom of the valley I could see large areas of grape vines and hoped that there may be another bodega to visit.  Sadly, when I got to the bottom of the valley I could only find vines and no sign of a bodega doing degustations (tastings)

To show you how much the landscape continually changes over such a short distance here is a short video that I shot that day:

Three hours after setting off I had arrived at my destination as I cycled into the town of Guandacol.

There was a petrol station at the entrance to the town and I asked if there was anywhere to stay in the village.  The lady behind the counter said that my best option was a place called Hostal San Bernardo which was about 5 km past the village out in the desert.

I followed her directions and turned off the highway onto a gravel road

There were many side tracks heading off to different houses but I stayed on the main track as the lady in the garage had said that I would eventually pass a sign giving me directions to the Hostal.  After a few kilometers I came across a sign that announced that I was on the right track

The Hostal was owned by a German family and was set in the middle of a fruit farm.  They grew grapes

There were also dates and plum trees and they dried most of the fruit that they grew.

They had 3 rooms for rent and the day that I arrived there was another guy staying who was spending a month walking through central Argentina.  He was also German and had stayed at the hostal a number of times before and used it as a kind of central base from where he walked from.

The building that I was had staying in was a self-contained house with two bedrooms, shared bathroom and lounge/dining room.

That night I had the place to myself and so for 350 pesos I had my own house.

The other thing that the owners did was make their own wine.  Each year they bought 4000 kg of grapes off the local vineyard and produced their own artesan red wine.  At 50 pesos a bottle it tasted pretty good and in the afternoon I opened a bottle and sat in the garden under the trees enjoying the benefit of my short day on the bike.

Dinner that evening was a full gastronomic 4 course experience of parma ham and cheese to start, followed by salad, then a really delicious roasted meat main course with crepes and coffee to finish. My stay at the hostal really was like being part of the family

Here is a short video to give you a better idea of just how beautiful and tranquil a setting it really was:

In the morning, I was tempted to stay for another day but the wind had dropped overnight and so I decided to make the most of the lull in the normal gale force headwind to try and cover another 100km on my journey to reach my next major stop which was the city of San Juan which still lay nearly 300km away.

I backtracked the 5km down the rough track towards the highway and as it was downhill it was an easy run. 

There was a tight bend near the bottom and when I pulled the back brake on nothing really happened and, although I was slowing, it was obvious that the brakes weren’t working properly.

I had only changed the brake pads a couple of hundred kilometers ago and when I checked on the right hand side the metal holder was still in place but rubber block had fallen out.

As I didn’t want to tighten the brake so that it worked with one brake block, in case it warped rim, I disengaged it completely and would just use my front brake.  Again, as there were no major descents before I reached San Juan this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

When I reached the main road the landscape was pancake flat and the road was straight as an arrow

As I the head wind wasn’t very strong that day I was able to roll along at +20kmph even though I was cycling down the centre of the valley and away from the added wind protection that the mountain slopes gave.

In Argentina, they have done away with building bridges to cross the rivers and instead just build the road straight through the river bed by laying thick concrete slabs across the river bed.

They must get a lot of flash flood in this valley as all along the road there were signs telling drivers not to continue driving down the road if there was heavy rain.

I had made good progress but by lunchtime I was back to the same problem of having no shade to sit and have lunch under as there were no trees by the side of the road – only very prickly bushes.

I had to ride on for nearly another 10km before I found a tree big enough that I could sit and eat my lunch under

After lunch I had an option on which route I would take.  I could either head directly west over a small mountain range to the town of Jachal and then loop back south or continue south to the village of Huaco for the night.  As I had no rear brakes I decided to continue south.

To get to Huaco I had to take a side road off Ruta 40 and the road that I was now on was a picture perfect road that was framed by the mountains in the distance

I found a hosteleria to stay at and in the best Argentinian tradition to get in I had to wake up the owner, even though it was 6pm, who was having a siesta.  It was like my arrival was an inconvenience, although to be fair I’m not the best person to be around for at least an hour after waking up!!!!

I had a few jobs to do in the village and so after showering I headed off to get some supplies and top up my phone credit as I had no money on my account.  It is always the simple things that take time and in a city to top up my mobile data I just head to a shop and give them money and my phone number; within 20 seconds I have credit.

In a village, it is slightly more complicated, and what you have to do is buy a ‘tarjetas de recarga’, or recharge scratch card, and then text the number on the card to the phone company.

Firstly, there are 3 main phone companies in Argentina that provide mobile services and trying to find a shop that sells the correct ‘tarjeta’ is a treasure hunt in itself.  I must have visited about 5 shops, always being told that the shop I wanted was turn left here and turn right here, before I finally found one which sold the correct cards.  (the other reason that most villages don’t sell tarjetas is that locals are all on contracts, and so no call for them)

When I finally tracked down the shop in the village which sold them it turned out though that as I had run out of credit/was trying to SMS outside of a city that I would need to visit a Personal (my phone company) office before the credit could be uploaded to my account. The nearest office was in San Juan 200km away!!!!!!

After getting credit, that I couldn’t use, and food supplies it was time to go in search of icecream and I found a very tasty vanilla ice cream that was dyed pink!!!

I headed back to the hostal to get dinner.  Before leaving I had put my order in, Bife con papas fritas (steak and chips), and had been told that it would be served at 9pm (yep –restaurants in Argentina do not really open until then).

At 10.30pm, myself and the other people staying at the Hostal for the night were finally served food and guess what – it was stone cold.  Honestly, it was like they had never served food before !!!

After dinner, again in best Argentinian tradition, the locals, plus me, all took our chairs and wine outside to the car park and sat next to their cars with the stereos on full blast. My one endearing memory that I will always have of Argentina is dance music being played full blast at 2am.  For Argentinians it is like a right and if it was ever taken away I think there would be a riot.

The next morning, given another very late night, was not an early start and it was nearly 11am before I finally got on the road.  I had to cycle 5km down a gravel road before I picked up the highway again.

Once I was back on the highway I again cycling down an arrow straight road heading south.  My red mountains which flanked the road the previous day had been replaced by the more normal grey/granite rocks.

After 30km of beautiful riding in front of me was what could be best described as a wall of rock

Given my hangover, and the increasing temperature, I was really hoping that the road went around them and thankfully as I reached the foot of the ‘wall’ there was a junction where the road I needed turned left and followed their base.

At the junction their was a restaurant and so I pulled over to get some food and an ice cold drink.

The place may not look the best but the food they served was fantastic – my option was Chuleta de Cerdo (pork chop) with rice and 2 litres of Fanta. 

Another ‘weird’ thing in Argentina is that whenever you go into a restaurantat every table people will be drinking a 2 litre bottle of Fanta/Coke/ Sprite, and when I ask people why it seems to be a tradition that is handed down through generations as they all say that after a hard day’s work you need it to top up you energy levels (I have never seen a diet coke in Argentina), and so everybody drinks copious amounts of sugary drinks.

Once full and refreshed it was time to get back on Ruta 40 and head south.

I followed the ‘wall’ for the next 20km

Before the valley opened up and the wind increased into a south westerly that did it’s best to halt my progress.

After an hour of cycling straight into the wind I needed a break and saw a building next to the road that would provide shelter.  When I cycled into it it turned out to be a ‘refugio’. 

 

I had seen these in the mountains but never in the ‘lowlands’.  This one had shade, a place to build a fire, lights and even electricity points that you could recharge phones/laptops.  The other thing that it had, remember that this refuge is in the middle of a desert, was a working fridge.

It was so tempting to stay here for the night but as I still had a couple hours of daylight left I decided to press on.  My destination that night was not a town, as there was not even a village on my map, and I fully expected to pitch my tent in the scrub vegetation next to the side of the road. 

However, just as it was getting towards dusk I passed a Campamento Vialidad Nacional (think a place where workers who repair motorways in the UK live ‘on site’) and saw a female cyclist waving at me from behind the fence of the compound that the workers kept their trucks.  In Argentina, a Campamento is normally at the halfway point between major cities and in this case was a place where workers slept ready to drive diggers to clear sediment off the road if heavy rains filled the hundreds of dry river bed crossings that I had to cross every day (in Argentina they don’t build bridges across seasonal river channels)

I cycled into the compound and it turned out that the girl, Miriam, was not alone as there were three of them – Miriam, Rene and Matt, the first two were from Holland and the last from Australia.

At the Campamento workers sleep overnight, and as the rains had not arrived yet in this part of Argentina there were just two Argentinian guys stationed there.  As the place was set up to house more workers during the rainy season there was empty accommodation and the 3 cyclists had been told that they could have a room for free. 

When I had cycled in and said hello to the Argentinian guys they said that I could also have a free room, but as the nights were so hot I decided to sleep outside in my tent without the fly sheet to take advantage of any breeze.

Over dinner we had a great night swapping cycling stories and as it went dark we watched the stars shine in the cloudless skies.

The only ‘disturbance’ to our tranquil star gazing as the sun went down were the two Argentinian workers.  Any idea what they ‘spoiled’ our star gazing tranquility?  

At 9pm they turned on the hifi that they had in their lodgings full blast and then walked 100m away to sit outside on the water tower to listen to the music in the cooler night air.  (To be fair, if I was staying in the middle of nowhere I would do the same)

When I went to bed that night I lay looking at the stars from my tent while being ‘schooled’ in Argentinian dance music.  No idea what time they finally went to bed but I can guarantee that I was snoring loudly before they were.   

In the morning, after breakfast, I went to say goodbye and one of them was still fast asleep and the other did his best ‘Cambodian’ impression of not smiling on camera.

My destination that day was San Juan which lay 80km away and should have taken me a good 6 hours given the wind conditions of the last few days.  When I left though I had the wind behind me and was flying.

The other 3 cyclists, who were heading north, had told me that there was a restaurant 20km away where I could have a proper breakfast, and within an hour I had reached the restaurant.

I was soon filling my face with a Milanesa de Pollo  (breaded chicken sandwich – why does food always sound sexier in a foreign language?)

After eating it was time to, with the wind finally behind me, fly to San Juan.  The only problem was that nature had stuck an obstacle in my way that I needed to navigate.

It was not too steep but at nearly 5km the climb was long, and as ever pictures never really show that there was any gradient at all.

San Juan marked the start of the wine region which runs about 180km to Maipu (you probably know the city of Mendoza but the main vineyard region is 20km beyond it in Maipu). So once I had descended into the valley that the city of San Juan lay I was passing fields and fields of grapes.

As this was now the height of summer in Argentina the other thing that I was passing were trucks full of freshly picked grapes waiting at the wineries to unload their cargo

As I cycled into San Juan, the provincial capital with a population of 800,000 people, I passed a YPF petrol station and pulled in to use their wifi to find the location of the main hotel area in the city.

The best hotels always tend to be located near to the main plaza (most expensive) and in whichever direction the bus station is that is where I generally start searching (always cheaper the nearer you get to the bus station).

My plan of action was not working though as the day that I arrived was at the height of the annual San Juan Festival – Fiesta San Juan Sol – a 5 day fiesta that takes over the city and includes nightly food markets, parades, a feria, headline bands each night and culminates in a ‘spectacular’ at the San Juan Autodromo (race track) that attracts a crowd of upwards of 10,000 people.

When I tried to find a hotel to stay even those next to the bus station were booked out.  It took until about the 10th place that I had tried to finally found a room, and even here they could only put me up for 1 night as the following night there was a Mexican rock band called Mana headlining the festival that were a hot ticket.

The girl behind reception said that if I wanted to go and see the band I should go and buy a ticket now before they sold out, and as the booking office was just over the road I went and bought my ticket.

The tickets ranged all the way from only a few pesos to 2500 peso (about 120 GBP) for a place in the front pen.  As I did not know them I went for the cheapest pen.

Once the following night’s entertainment was sorted I headed back to the hotel, had a shower and walked into town to see what the evening festivities were.

It turned out that this was parade day in the fiesta calendar and the main street was being readied for the evening parade.

The plastic seats that lined the streets cost 30 pesos and they started to fill up from around 7.30pm.  I needed to get dinner though and couldn’t be bothered waiting for an hour and a half just to get a front row seat.

That night I found a local steak place and enjoyed great food before heading to watch the parade.  

All of the seats were taken and those who did not have a seat had come prepared with their own ladders so that they still had a great view

The parade was great, but the only problem was that the restaurant that I had eaten at was to the north of the main plaza and my hotel was to the south.  With the parade running through the plaza, and barriers lining the route for kilometres on either side, it meant that I could not get across the street until the parade had finished, which was at midnight. (there are only so many spectacular floats that you can watch before the next one becomes slightly less spectacular !!!)

Check out in Argentina is always 10am (although never enforced) and in the morning I had to change hotels.  The cyclists I had met at the Campamento two days before had recommended a place called Moto Hostal. 

It was not in the very centre of the city and when I cycled there they had a bed for just 190 pesos which was far less than I have paid anywhere else.  The owner took me up stairs to show me the room and it turned out that for 190 pesos I got the top bunk in an 8 bed dorm room.

Now, when I was in my 20’s and even 30’s then dorm rooms were my bread and butter and were fantastic experiences.  As I have got older, and slightly richer, I have become a bit choosier about where I sleep and the thought of sleeping with 7 other travelers during a festival was not doing it for me.

I asked the owner if he had anything else and he showed me a twin room that was 350 pesos.  Before the even uttered the price I had put my bags in the room and said that I was happy to pay!!!!

I then headed to bed for a couple of hours as that day was a day off the bike and when you normally cycle for 8 hours  the thought of ‘being a tourist’ and walking around town in the blazing sun has no appeal at all.  Plus, I had a late night arranged as I was going to see the band Mana who were headlining the final night of the Feria. 

In Argentina, people don’t tend to go out for food until at least 10pm and accordingly, even though gates opened at 9pm, guess what time the main band were on stage – 1am in the morning.  This meant that it would be 3am by the time I got to bed.

That evening I headed to the feria at around 10pm and joined the locals eating the most delicious smelling Asado that I had seen on my travels.  The only problem was which one to pick as they all looked fantastic

After eating it was time to go and sample some wine and as this was the start of the wine region there was a great free selection to choose from.

About 12.30am I headed to the stage area to wait for the main attraction to start.  Thankfully, they arrived on time but just as the first guitar solo got going a huge storm blew through.  After watching 30 minutes of Mexican rock music I decided to call it a day as I was getting drenched.

The next day it was time to try and finish my Ruta 40 adventure and as I cycled out of San Juan I had 170km still to cover to get to Mendoza and that was too far for 1 day given that I had not left until nearly lunchtime.

I had one job still to do and that was to replace the rear brake pad that had broken and as I was heading out of town I passed a bike shop that sold branded stock.

Almost immediately after I picked up Ruta 40 again and headed south I was cycling past vineyards

This area receives very little rainfall and it is through a series of irrigation channels which take water from the mountains to the vineyards that means that grapes can be grown.  When cycling through the region the areas where there are no irrigation channels are obvious

It is not just grapes that are grown as fruit stalls lined the side of the road as I passed through villages

The wind was once again doing its best to ruin my day and after 50km I had had enough and as I road into the village of Media Agua I pulled into a petrol station to get a coffee and a sandwich. 

As it was the weekend there were a few locals enjoying a cold beer and I got talking to them and one thing led to another and before I knew it I also had a beer in my hand.  After spending an hour with the locals all resolve of heading out into the wind and carrying on cycling was gone as my late night had caught up with me.

The locals said that there was a grass area that was used as a show ground on the outskirts of the village that people sometimes camped at.  When I finally left the garage I headed to check it out and when I got there the place was completely empty so set my tent up for the night.

As the sun went down two things happened – the first was that an army of mosquitos descended that were so vicious that I had to eat the rest of my dinner in the tent.  The other thing was that a convoy of cars arrived and drove to the only building which was at the other end of the field from where I had camped. 

It turned out that one of the babies in the village had been baptized that morning and they were just setting up the hall for a party. Within 15 minutes they had put up balloons, banners, blown up a bouncey castle and arranged tables with food and drinks ready for the party.

You have to remember that it was nearly 10pm by now and none of the guests had arrived.  In Argentina they really do everything sooooo late.  The guests started to arrive about 11pm just as I headed to bed and when I woke up at 3am to find a tree to have a wee the party was still in full swing.

I have no idea what time it finished but when I woke up around 7am all of the people had gone, and even the bouncy castle had been removed.

The day before I had only cycled 50 km out of the 170km that I needed to get to Mendoza which left me a very long day on the bike if I wanted to get to the city by nightfall.  I was on the road by 8.30 am and as it was early morning the wind was not too bad and I was making good progress as the road was as pancake flat.

At 11am I stopped for an early lunch under a group of trees by the side of the road.

Finding shade was fantastic as the temperature was once again heading for +40C degrees.  My company as I ate lunch was a group of goats that appeared out of nowhere and after saying hello they headed off to who knows where as they continued their quest to find food.

After lunch the irrigation channels returned and the whole area that I was cycling through turned from a dry dusty desert into a lush green landscape – there were grape vines for as far as I could see

and hundreds of Olive plantations

There were also trees – those beautiful fantastic tall plants that line the sides of roads and provide wonderful shade

All of the greenery seemed to have attracted a swarm of flying grasshoppers, that I think were locusts, to the area.  A week or so earlier I had been bombarded by kamikaze beetles as I left Londres and this afternoon the kamikaze bugs seemed determined to get chewed up in my wheels. 

When I pulled over at a shop to get a drink on the outskirts of Mendoza there were hundreds of them, and they weren’t small.

At 6pm, I finally rolled into Mendoza having covered 120km for the day and I was greeted by a ‘closed’ city.  It turned out that at the end of February in Argentina was a ‘5 day weekend’ and workers had finished the previous Thursday and would not return to work until the following Wednesday.

This year in Mendoza, the long weekend coincided with the start of a 10 day wine festival that the city of Mendoza celebrates every year at the beginning of February.  It looked like I had arrived at the right time in terms of entertainment but not for finding a place to sleep.  Like in San Juan everywhere seemed to be fully booked.

After trying 5 or 6 places I finally found somewhere that could accommodate me for a couple of nights.   The next problem was that I had no money and all of the cashpoints had either run out money or were offline.  It wasn’t just me wandering around from cashpoint to cashpoint there were lots of locals.

In the end I gave up and headed back to the hotel and told reception that I would pay in the morning which they didn’t have a problem with.

It had taken me 14 days to cycle the +1000 kilometres along Ruta 40 and now that I had arrived in Mendoza my time cycling Argentina’s famous cycling road had come to an end.  When I left Mendoza, obviously after a few days of sampling the local wines, I would be cycling west as I climbed over the Andes Mountains to the frontier with Chile, while Ruta 40 continued south for another 3000 kilometers.

The road had taken me through so many beautiful landscapes from high mountain passes to long stretches of desert, through wine regions and into remote villages with natural hot springs.  Every day seemed to offer something different and I had had a fantastic couple of weeks of cycling that would be a highlight of my time in Argentina.

If you ever cycle Argentina I would highly recommend following Ruta 40 from the northern wine region of Cafayate  to Mendoza.  I guarantee that you will have an unforgettable time.

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Cycling Ruta 40, Argentina (part 2)
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One thought on “Cycling Ruta 40, Argentina (part 2)

  • March 10, 2017 at 6:45 am
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    Fascinating Stewart. It’ll be a fair few years before it is my turn, but my turn it will be (if in a car). Lots similar to the part of South Africa where I am from (Cape Town and to the interior).

    Reply

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