While crossing from the eastern side to the western side of Argentina, there was a lot of emptiness.  Much of the way was desert, without a lot except sand, dirt, and fencepost along the side of the road.  Every 40 to 80km would be a tiny town, many barely surviving, eking out a living from the farmers living nearby.  These towns usually had only the most basic of amenities - maybe a  tienda or restaurant, a little pension run by an enterprising woman, and a place for the new bus linking Viedma to Bariloche to stop.

Ramos Mexia was one such town.  The day before, the woman running the pension shrugged when I asked what there was on the road ahead.  “A very small town” she warned me.  Riding into the town late the next day (with two other cyclists from New Zealand) I couldn’t help but agree.  Definitely not a lot going on… or so we assumed (more…)