Villa Giardino Cruz de Eje-La Rioja-Aimogasta Chilecito-Union-Villa-San Juan-Mendoza
These small pieces of selected days between Villa Giardino and Mendoza.
A detour to the English countryside:
I walk along a pretty road, shaded by tall trees, which is nice because, despite the hour rather morning, the sun is already fierce. The road winds through a lush and rolling countryside. Behind large gates, one sees towering houses with various charms and uncertain: Swiss Chalet?, Mas Provencal?, Family house in Deauville? Percheron longhouse? And always, freshly mown fine turf on which you could plant out his tent. It's a bit chic and shock but very nice and relaxing, and most is green, which feels great after the long runs dusty in the region of La Serena in Chile. At the turn of a village, I met a retired couple more too young to be walking with his arms crossed behind his back and nose in the air. The man makes me stop and sign. He asks me where I'm not listening but my answer, I am convinced that English anyway, and too happy to excercer his talent in the language of Shakespeare, explains in perfect English that he must always, when walking along a road, dealing with cars coming ... Thank you, but I knew this morning, I seek the shadow instead (which was to the other side) and it happens here a car every 30 minutes.
- "Goal where are you from, in England?" wonder there.
- "I am French, from Nantes"
- "In French!" Then, turning to his wife.
- "In France, Nantes ..."
And the eyes of the old woman lighting:
- "To France, Paris, Montpellier, Nice, Charles Trenet" ... and a thin voice to sing with me a beautiful accent, "Douce France, dear country of my childhood ..." and two verses after the amusement of her husband.
I have not had the courage to go into long explanations to come to the sad conclusion that today, unfortunately, my beautiful country is that much more deluded recklessness tender, time progressed, and I wanted to enjoy this beautiful road that reminded me as the English countryside ...
The road is nice but ...:
The next day there I was for three hours of unsuccessful stop at an intersection to direct sunlight (photo), where, by chance, pass the whole village, creating a little animation. Before me, the road from what I've been told is a long ribbon of asphalt burning of 250 km in the desert. It is therefore unnecessary to proceed by walk away. Here I am at least the thin shadow of the pole supporting the traffic light. Finally, a truck takes me to La Rioja. The type is nice, not too early cause but when it comes to talk about work he discovered that I work in transportation, it becomes more Locace. This road, in fact, is impressive. It's a long straight line with each side, 50 meters of fire are cleared and beyond, a low and sparse vegetation emerges from the sand.
It comes therefore to discuss the working conditions of my driver I do not always come back. He arrived alone in Buenos Aires, he went last night (and it is 18h), it has made little bits of things break, but not great, it's Saturday night and he still bounds to do so. And that's all the world like it. There is no regulation of working time, whereas here, we die a lot on the road. Truck accidents, and even since, (whose drivers work in much the same way) are very frequent. Often the driver falls asleep in a line a little too straight ("Like this one?" I said making sure that the eyelids of my drivers are always open) or exceeded a little bold ...
I let my chauffeur Patquia, glad to still be around, and wish him a lot of courage for the 3 remaining hours, without pause and provided with nightfall the program ...
Moving on tour :
Sunday, I leave the city of La Rioja with a long road that goes to the mountain. Small break in the shade of the final tree before attacking the coast. I rush in the sweltering heat of the morning after to the mountains promise me a little more fresh for tonight. As it is Sunday and Mother's Day, families are united in the gardens in the shade of a tree or a canvas for the occasions. We share here a grill, a few drinks and feel of a good meal. I welcome the passage of these joyous GameCafé.
At the second, we stopped to drink a glass of chilled Fanta! My throat could not expect better!
the fourth, it gives me a bottle of water actually come out of the freezer especially for me.
"Hey, it's french!" and comes to kiss my daughter
"bring him a sandwich and a Fanta, I think sauccisse left there is well done", and just shake hands with my son,
"look son, c 'is a french ... ". When pressed, I tell a little of my journey, and I still being discussed. Further, it gives me more water. The after noon
advance (and me too quickly unfortunately) tables are more joyful. People I greet or gives me a little something to me never let go without encouragement:
"Suerte, That you will have good, buen viaje ..."
Is Fanta that rushes to my head, but the further I go, the more it encourages me, the "Suerte" are More and more, we stop again for giving me a helping fleet, in cars that double me, kids stick their heads out the window "Suerte". It ended up having a euphoric effect and helping the imagination, I'm transformed into Raymond Poulidor, yellow in the ascent of the Tourmalet. The difference lies in the fact that here, the weather was not the same value and that when someone offers me a drink, it takes a little time. Discus are very nice, the kids can not believe my bag, there to sleep in a tent in the mountains! And eyes to open even bigger. I'm
carrement standing on the pedals, the nose to the grindstone, according to the motorcycle RTF file to the top, the pack is far anyway, the crowd m'aclamme when, after a tight hairpin, more person, large plastered walls, behind a closed gate, there are the blue pool ... My Tour de France breaks off here, but the encouragement of early morning after I can easily take until evening .
Well I added a little late but I like the book I felt.
Cuesta de Miranda
He leads and is not quite talking, she is professor of biology and more of a chatterbox. The road is breathtaking. The red dust is raised gradually as we advance on the track. At the bottom, much more down, a stream. The valley is almost a cayon, the different sedimentary layers form emplillements twisted, bent by the telluric forces and the wind and rain have finished the job. Awesome! In talking with the teacher, she confirmed what I had heard in other cars.
last over several decades, climate change has hit here is felt, the winter months lesjours no longer bring freshness and summer, which is normally the rainy period, became completely dry. This year, on this area, not a single drop of rain against a little over 10 days earlier. Streams dry up and the fragile equilibrium that can live in these semi-arid areas is seriously threatened. The leaves of the trees become thinner is the less nourriturres for animals that live in
ect ... The water problem arises here seriously, already some villages that did just streams must be delivered to water tank ... According to some, there are some villages that exist over here a few years ...
And just for fun ... :
The evening air is sweet is sweet and once again, here I am on the edge of the road, thumb raised. An old Chevrolet pickup stops smoking. It is led by a young guy in the head with a sympathetic friend to look good punk! I sit on the bench with them at the front. A little later, another car stopper joins us. We are now four in the front seat, a bit tight but who cares, we advance a little faster than walking and that is the main ...
50 km / h (the motor does not seem to do better and given the state of the car, it is also much like that) on a completely deserted road, we go down south. The sky is clear after this hot day, on our right, a few miles away, stands the imposing Andes Cordillera and its snowy peaks. To our left, a little closer, the pre-mountain range, lower but so beautiful, adorned the glowing sunset ... Between the two, the low vegetation gives the impression of bodies of water when you look away ... A magical landscape and colors ... In the car, not a word, each contemplating the scenery through the windows, faces are illuminated by the colors of the sunset, all with music by Elton John tragic
I the impression of being in a road movie of the 70 American
When they dropped me off, the car 615 325 km! Calle and does not restart. Are sprinkled liberally engine blow bucket of water, still trying, discussing, making predictions ... So we are pushing this huge car, which eventually smith in a blackish cloud. Through the smoke, the smiling face of the driver, always lit by the red sun greets me, a hand through the window, greet and go pitch my tent in the moor ...
These small pieces of selected days between Villa Giardino and Mendoza.
A detour to the English countryside:
I walk along a pretty road, shaded by tall trees, which is nice because, despite the hour rather morning, the sun is already fierce. The road winds through a lush and rolling countryside. Behind large gates, one sees towering houses with various charms and uncertain: Swiss Chalet?, Mas Provencal?, Family house in Deauville? Percheron longhouse? And always, freshly mown fine turf on which you could plant out his tent. It's a bit chic and shock but very nice and relaxing, and most is green, which feels great after the long runs dusty in the region of La Serena in Chile. At the turn of a village, I met a retired couple more too young to be walking with his arms crossed behind his back and nose in the air. The man makes me stop and sign. He asks me where I'm not listening but my answer, I am convinced that English anyway, and too happy to excercer his talent in the language of Shakespeare, explains in perfect English that he must always, when walking along a road, dealing with cars coming ... Thank you, but I knew this morning, I seek the shadow instead (which was to the other side) and it happens here a car every 30 minutes.
- "Goal where are you from, in England?" wonder there.
- "I am French, from Nantes"
- "In French!" Then, turning to his wife.
- "In France, Nantes ..."
And the eyes of the old woman lighting:
- "To France, Paris, Montpellier, Nice, Charles Trenet" ... and a thin voice to sing with me a beautiful accent, "Douce France, dear country of my childhood ..." and two verses after the amusement of her husband.
I have not had the courage to go into long explanations to come to the sad conclusion that today, unfortunately, my beautiful country is that much more deluded recklessness tender, time progressed, and I wanted to enjoy this beautiful road that reminded me as the English countryside ...
The road is nice but ...:
The next day there I was for three hours of unsuccessful stop at an intersection to direct sunlight (photo), where, by chance, pass the whole village, creating a little animation. Before me, the road from what I've been told is a long ribbon of asphalt burning of 250 km in the desert. It is therefore unnecessary to proceed by walk away. Here I am at least the thin shadow of the pole supporting the traffic light. Finally, a truck takes me to La Rioja. The type is nice, not too early cause but when it comes to talk about work he discovered that I work in transportation, it becomes more Locace. This road, in fact, is impressive. It's a long straight line with each side, 50 meters of fire are cleared and beyond, a low and sparse vegetation emerges from the sand.
It comes therefore to discuss the working conditions of my driver I do not always come back. He arrived alone in Buenos Aires, he went last night (and it is 18h), it has made little bits of things break, but not great, it's Saturday night and he still bounds to do so. And that's all the world like it. There is no regulation of working time, whereas here, we die a lot on the road. Truck accidents, and even since, (whose drivers work in much the same way) are very frequent. Often the driver falls asleep in a line a little too straight ("Like this one?" I said making sure that the eyelids of my drivers are always open) or exceeded a little bold ...
I let my chauffeur Patquia, glad to still be around, and wish him a lot of courage for the 3 remaining hours, without pause and provided with nightfall the program ...
Moving on tour :
Sunday, I leave the city of La Rioja with a long road that goes to the mountain. Small break in the shade of the final tree before attacking the coast. I rush in the sweltering heat of the morning after to the mountains promise me a little more fresh for tonight. As it is Sunday and Mother's Day, families are united in the gardens in the shade of a tree or a canvas for the occasions. We share here a grill, a few drinks and feel of a good meal. I welcome the passage of these joyous GameCafé.
At the second, we stopped to drink a glass of chilled Fanta! My throat could not expect better!
the fourth, it gives me a bottle of water actually come out of the freezer especially for me.
"Hey, it's french!" and comes to kiss my daughter
"bring him a sandwich and a Fanta, I think sauccisse left there is well done", and just shake hands with my son,
"look son, c 'is a french ... ". When pressed, I tell a little of my journey, and I still being discussed. Further, it gives me more water. The after noon
advance (and me too quickly unfortunately) tables are more joyful. People I greet or gives me a little something to me never let go without encouragement:
"Suerte, That you will have good, buen viaje ..."
Is Fanta that rushes to my head, but the further I go, the more it encourages me, the "Suerte" are More and more, we stop again for giving me a helping fleet, in cars that double me, kids stick their heads out the window "Suerte". It ended up having a euphoric effect and helping the imagination, I'm transformed into Raymond Poulidor, yellow in the ascent of the Tourmalet. The difference lies in the fact that here, the weather was not the same value and that when someone offers me a drink, it takes a little time. Discus are very nice, the kids can not believe my bag, there to sleep in a tent in the mountains! And eyes to open even bigger. I'm
carrement standing on the pedals, the nose to the grindstone, according to the motorcycle RTF file to the top, the pack is far anyway, the crowd m'aclamme when, after a tight hairpin, more person, large plastered walls, behind a closed gate, there are the blue pool ... My Tour de France breaks off here, but the encouragement of early morning after I can easily take until evening .
Well I added a little late but I like the book I felt.
Cuesta de Miranda
He leads and is not quite talking, she is professor of biology and more of a chatterbox. The road is breathtaking. The red dust is raised gradually as we advance on the track. At the bottom, much more down, a stream. The valley is almost a cayon, the different sedimentary layers form emplillements twisted, bent by the telluric forces and the wind and rain have finished the job. Awesome! In talking with the teacher, she confirmed what I had heard in other cars.
last over several decades, climate change has hit here is felt, the winter months lesjours no longer bring freshness and summer, which is normally the rainy period, became completely dry. This year, on this area, not a single drop of rain against a little over 10 days earlier. Streams dry up and the fragile equilibrium that can live in these semi-arid areas is seriously threatened. The leaves of the trees become thinner is the less nourriturres for animals that live in
ect ... The water problem arises here seriously, already some villages that did just streams must be delivered to water tank ... According to some, there are some villages that exist over here a few years ...
And just for fun ... :
The evening air is sweet is sweet and once again, here I am on the edge of the road, thumb raised. An old Chevrolet pickup stops smoking. It is led by a young guy in the head with a sympathetic friend to look good punk! I sit on the bench with them at the front. A little later, another car stopper joins us. We are now four in the front seat, a bit tight but who cares, we advance a little faster than walking and that is the main ...
50 km / h (the motor does not seem to do better and given the state of the car, it is also much like that) on a completely deserted road, we go down south. The sky is clear after this hot day, on our right, a few miles away, stands the imposing Andes Cordillera and its snowy peaks. To our left, a little closer, the pre-mountain range, lower but so beautiful, adorned the glowing sunset ... Between the two, the low vegetation gives the impression of bodies of water when you look away ... A magical landscape and colors ... In the car, not a word, each contemplating the scenery through the windows, faces are illuminated by the colors of the sunset, all with music by Elton John tragic
I the impression of being in a road movie of the 70 American
When they dropped me off, the car 615 325 km! Calle and does not restart. Are sprinkled liberally engine blow bucket of water, still trying, discussing, making predictions ... So we are pushing this huge car, which eventually smith in a blackish cloud. Through the smoke, the smiling face of the driver, always lit by the red sun greets me, a hand through the window, greet and go pitch my tent in the moor ...
