Day 13
5 – 12-2017
410 Kms
Today we have a bunch of dirt

This is the famous Post Office at the End of the World.

Some of our group

through the roadworks, en-route. We had decided not to take the mainly dirt route as this was an extra 100km of dirt and based on what we had experienced, we did not relish the idea. In addition we were facing a border crossing into Argentina. This proved to be a non-event but little were we to know that they would make up for this on the return as we had to come through the same border posts two days later.
Shortly after crossing the border we stopped at a great watering hole, based on the number of tour group stickers (Big motorbike and back packer groups all have stickers made up recording their details. These get plastered on windows at stopping points and serve as a who’s who who’s been here in each of these areas). Our stop shortly after the border meant a good coffee and for some a bit to eat. For us only a coffee but a few bits and pieces for the twins.
Then it is on to Tolhuin, where rumour has there is a wonderful bakery in the middle of nowhere. This is not great news for me as on my diet the sort of sweet stuff that is guaranteed to be there, is not on my menu. As we turn off the Routa 40 into Tolhuin, we soon realise that this is another dump. Thing perk up as we ride into town. The smell of freshly cooked meat permeates the town and we locate the cause, an Assador (Typical Argentinian Meat restaurant) . We make a command decision to miss the bakery and rather have a proper lunch. This is a great choice as we are cold and hungry, nothing a good piece of Argentinian meat will not sort out in a few seconds. The bakery is extremely popular and is testimony to how little is available in this part of the world because Tolhuin is in the words of the President, a “shithole” and other than for superb trout fishing in the nearby lakes, there does not seem to be much of consequence.
45 minutes later we are on the road and well on the way to Ushuaia. It is still cold but we are repleate and well fuelled. The road is reasonably good and is tarred all the way, at least after a fashion. So pot holes aside and ridges in the middle where one half of the road has been repaired and the other still waiting for a layer of tar, we bounce along and try to stay upright.
We are riding the Garibaldi pass. This pass separates Patagonia from the coastal area and was, like many of the great passes of the Western Cape, built by Italians. It is about 30 km long and the weather changes a few times. The wind continues to pump the entire way. As we were warned, Ushuaia has about three different weather systems that affect it. These occur three times in every day.
I also realise that I am riding with a “dog magnet”. ET is the flavour of the month in Argentina. In Tolhuin he gets chased by every dog in the town, but they leave me alone.
One of the other things I realise in Tolhuin is that South America is a completely different world and this is amplified by the pictures of celebrities on the walls in most restaurants and bars. These are not people we are familiar with. Not one known by me. Also very few people speak any English, so if you do not have a basic knowledge of Spanish, you are in trouble.
Ushuaia is nothing to write home about. It is one of two gateways to the Antarctic and the cruise ships are in harbour. Our hotel is on the far side of town and is not great. Once again the rooms are OK and warm, which is essential in this part of the world. It is however on the way to the “Fin del Mondo” – the “End of the World” which is the turn around point for our ride as we cannot go any further south. We head off there tomorrow for the obligatory photographs. It promises to be a nightmare ride, but fortunately very short for we will be on wet dirt which will be like wet glass.
Because we want to get there and back early the next day, we decide to have dinner in the hotel restaurant. This is a major mistake as the service is terrible and the food even worse. After this no-one has any stomach for a late night and everyone is early to bed.
It rains all night which does not bode well for the morning ride. We start the day in our wet weather gear and set off for the park. It is as bad as we feared it would be. Very wet and muddy. Very slippery and we all take it slowly as no one wants to spread themselves over the mud on the last bit of the ride. Eventually we get to the end. No bikes allowed where the sign is means some negotiating with the park rangers and then, provided we do not hang around, we can stop in front of the signs marking the “Fin del Mondo”.
Then we are here, and we have finally reached the turnaround point. It is an anti-climax and not very pretty here, certainly none of the natural beauty of Cape Point. Everyone has kept upright and no no-one has made a fool of themselves – Yet!

All who went before us
Not far from the viewpoint, there is the most Southerly Post Office in the world. I have brought a postcard with me, addressed to my grandchildren. This is a habit I have continued with, from my Alaska trip. It gives them a pictorial record of my travels and something for “show and tell”. However, when we get to the Post Office (Picture attached) it is closed. Classic South American situation, someone just did not feel like coming to work. So I will have to go into Ushuaia, pity!
I park my bike in a position from which I think I will be able to make an easy get away. It is not to be. I get on, start up and kick the side stand out of the way. Put the bike in gear and promptly fall off as I cannot get a foothold when I need to put my foot down. The bike is higher off the ground than I realised and the ground is very slippery. I am simply no longer strong enough to hold it up once my foot starts slipping. In Alaska I had a similar situation and legs six years younger and in better shape, enabled me to hold it up through sheer strength. Here I ended up on my face in the mud, with all the guys rushing over to help me. Apart from a dented ego and some mud on my jacket, there was no other damage.
So from here it was back to the hotel, a quick shower and into town for a few bits and pieces. Then a taxi back to the hotel, coffee at the entrance desk and a sit down to catch our breath and catch up with some notes to keep my mind fresh with what happened so that when the day that I complete the blog finally arrives, none of the key points will have been forgotten.
These are also always difficult moments, because in effect the ride is over. However the bikes have to be returned to Moto Adventura’s depot in Punta Arenas in Chile. As the crow flies Punta Arenas is less than 20kms away. But we are going to have to ride over 400 kms, take a ferry and brave another border crossing to get the bikes there. They are not going to be easy days. No one ever likes re-riding a route, a bit like sleeping with an old girl friend. All extremely exciting until you finally “meet” and then you ask yourself why??.
So Good Night and good luck and Good Bye.
Sleep well in the knowledge that at least one more gripping and riveting episode remains.
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