The ride today started with eight motorcycles blasting through town as fast as is humanly possible to avoid being another drive by victim in the derilict town of Perito Moreno. It was a long days riding today, 580kms, the longest of the trip. Stunned that i survived the gravel portion of the trip, we wound on the throttle averaging a cool 130km/h before stopping at a quiet out of the way ranch for lunch. Half an hour passed before we began to wonder of our ill fated troopy support vehicle. Where could it be? Had its alternator finally given up the game and succumed to the harsh climate of Patagonia? An hour later and one very relieved German guide waved the vehicle into its parking slot. Gathering around to hear the obviously perplexing tale of a breakdown and bushman like skills fixing it in the dessert, we were supprised to see confused faces.
"What?" they said.
"What took you so long then!"
"Nothing, we had the foot to the floor and against the wind all we could manage is sixty."
Taking a calculator out of my bag and chalking up sums on the blackboard, i came to the conclussion they were indeed correct, and in fact not stopping to smuggle cocaine accross the border as was my original suspicion. It seems that not only motorcyclists have a tough time dealing with the plaguing winds of this place...
Having gone through my playlist of megans songs (thanks hun) twice, and confused motorists beeping as they saw me standing up with one hand massaging my destroyed bottom, i was about ready to see the looming signs of esque crossing the horrizons. Driving through town, David beeped and waved like a madman pointing to a huge sign which read "Casino". All nodding in agreement after our thouroughly enjoyable millionaires spree at the tables a few nights ago we were all keen for a beer to say the least. I would like to say driving through town was uneventful and safe, but alas it was not. It was very eventful and hidiously dangerous, dodging motorists comming from different directions and making three lanes out of two. Roundabouts were tackled by locals with as much care for right of way as hitler had for poland. Arriving at the hotel with the heartrate of a chipmunk on speed, we dismounted and entered our comparitively flash place to our previous towns prison cell.
Being given an odd brief by our guide 'Leo' about the hotel, we figured that A - the previous tour group were pissheads and B - we were not alloud to bring outside beer in the hotel then run around in the nude. So being the good temporary argentinian citizens we were, we ordered a round of beers from the hotel bar to be told they had not expected such a 'rush' and we had drunk them out of beer after eight beers. Again the preperation of this race of people is astounding, and again im left wondering why they are not in controll of half the worlds free population.
Skipping off to dinner earlier than usual, we came to a cute little restauraunt set in the center of the bustling metropolis. Straight into the menu in search of beef and beer (customary argentinian diet of champions) we laughed our asses off. Of four pages, there was one quarter dedicated to food, and the rest to drinks. They had every rendition of every cocktail, and the english descriptions too! Beach on sex comes to mind. Going for the standard, by which as you all by now know is half a cow and an intravenous drip of hidiously cheap beer, we decided with much conversing that we should explore what this town has to offer and show off our mad gambling skills at the casino.
Inside, we discovered that this casino was outfitted as extravagantly as any other aussie built one. Yet only seemed to opperate as one on the weekends, instead choosing to utilise their space and serve drinks from a bar that was nestled away in a corner. Figuring the only thing on offer was the argentine pokies, i decided to try my luck. Now i have played my fair share of pokies before, but never have i won a feature and been charged more money in the process. Dumbfounded we ordered a round of scotches and, true to tradition they gave us a glass of scotch (yes a full glass) and a can of coke. It seems that here, your the bartender and the responsible service of alcahol concept has been clearly lost. Fun times.
Loving the blog guys :-)
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