Thought I’d squeeze in a few more words on Carretera Austral that I sort of forgot (totally ignored) in my last entry. Remember how I told you how this wonder world of a place is constituted of millions of flowers painting on-the-ground rainbows, sky high waterfalls, lush greenery and ever flowing rivers rushing pass you at any and every given moment?
Naturally that’s not the entire story.
And just as naturally – the other part of it is that this place is wet.
Landscapes like this require rain. And lots of it. As always you get vastly different responses depending on who you ask, but let’s settle with some happy medium and state that this stretch of Chile receives an annual rainfall hovering around a good 3-6 000 mm. Which is a lot. Really a lot.
And I got my fair share of it.
I’ve cycled with loads of rain before. But this was the first time ever that I’ve gone for 15 days straight without getting to stay dry for a single one of them. But hey, the combination of being spoiled with some incredible gear and the fact that I never really grew out of the whole playing-in-puddles thing as a kid – I really didn’t mind.
Or well. With the exception of when stubborn low hanging clouds blocked my views.
Since the rain does become quite a massive part of your life when living outdoors, I just felt like mentioning it. Though not really like dwelling on it for too long. Something – or someone – worthy of far more characters in this post is Mark. The 70 000 km-under-his-belt Englishman who randomly became my very welcome partner in crime for what is likely to remain the wettest week of Christmas I’ll ever experience.
Because even if you’re one of those people who claim that ‘rain doesn’t bother you’ (nice try, Fredrika..), it is a heck of a lot nicer to live through it in some good company.
Together we rode some hills. Ate shitloads of cookies (Triton, anyone?). Celebrated Christmas in style.
Most well earned Christmas pudding in history..
Flown over from England, ridden some 2000 km through Patagonia. Enjoy it, man!
…and then decided to call it quits with the whole rain-and-cyclist-highway thing and make a swift escape to sunny Argentina on the other side of the mountains.
Only one way to go!
And boy – were we rewarded.
First sun in living memory
I don’t need to say much more, do I? Together Mark & I have the memories of close to a 1000 camp nights written down in our diaries. Many of them great. Some absolutely amazing. Then there are those ones that you’ll simply remember for as long as you live.
And this one – the very first one back Argentinian soil. Being dry and warm, watching the sun set behind the mountains we’d just left behind us. With a folding cup of wine and the promise of nothing but a smiling sun for days – maybe weeks – to come.
This was one of them.
Until next time,
Fredrika