Pan-American Highway Starts Here – Buenos Aires
Added on Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010 by Carole Nash Editor
Pan-American Highway Starts Here – Buenos Aires
The Nick Sanders Pan-American Expedition is the toughest motorcycle expedition in the world. Nick is leading 22 riders and four pillions from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia and then north to Alaska in 9 weeks. This
24 000 mile journey crosses, Argentina, Chile, the Atacama Desert, the Bolivian alto-plano, Lake Titicaca in Peru, Ecuador and Colombia. It then continues across Central America and North America to Alaska before finally journeying along the Trans-Canadian Highway to New York.
The plane landed in cloud so low it touched the ground. The Alitalia staff were surly and the food was poor but we arrived an hour ahead of schedule. Unfortunately the boat transporting the bikes had docked a day late so the chance of completing customs by Friday was slim. Meanwhile Erik and Silvana were getting riders into cabs before we shot off into town to start the process of temporarily importing our bikes into Argentina. The last time I entered South America was alone during the final leg of Parallel World. As I left the airport terminus Ewan McGregor was advertising perfume on large 48 sheet billboards, and I was smelling like a pig…ha, good! Now Erik was driving, his girlfriend Silvana in the front, Caroline and me in the back. We were going to the shipping agents to sort out the paperwork for the bikes.
Listen to the Pan-American Highway Podcast at www.nicksanders.com
The agents were on the corner of Viamonte and the 25th de Mayo and after a short wait we spoke to the commercial guy, Martin Shalapalov who had started the process to release the bikes from customs. After which we went for lunch where I had a small T-bone steak and chips washed down by a malbec from Mendoza.
The riders were by now safely installed in the hostel whilst we changed a few thousand dollars in a change shop before going to the insurance broker to sort out the legal side of riding here.
13 million people live in Buenos Aires. It’s situated on the Rio de la Plata. The city of Buenos Aires was first established as Ciudad de Nuestra Señora Santa María del Buen Ayre (literally “City of Our Lady Saint Mary of the Fair Winds”) on 2 February 1536 by a Spanish expedition led by Pedro de Mendoza. Some of the guys went to watch Tango classes on the Plaza de Mayo. Born in the suburbs of Buenos Aires, notably in the brothels of the Junín y Lavalle district, Tango was until fairly recently usually men-only establishments. Tango consists of a variety of styles that developed in different regions. The dance developed in response to many cultural elements, such as the crowding of the venue and even the fashions in clothing. The styles are mostly danced in either open embrace, where lead and follow connect at arm’s length, or close embrace, where the lead and follow connect chest-to chest.
It took another 24 hours to establish contact with customs along with an insurance company that facilitated legal entry into Argentina with our bikes. It would take a further 48 hours before we would finally be released onto the highway. After another meeting with Martin at the shippers we went for tea at Tortoni’s Cafe.
There was a lull, everything went quiet. I needed a siesta but still Erik and I had to plan the route down to Ushuaia. I slept thinking of nothing.
By evening most of the riders had enjoyed a few beers and even though there a certain amount of frustration at not being able to get on their bikes as quickly as promised, a sense of humour had been retained. Nevertheless, there were some tensions. Two of the lads had words which were resolved the following morning. Extreme projects like this are a conduit for extreme people who habitually are defensive about equally strong views. Fingers were pointed and voices raised but everything was forgotten by the morning. Later the next day, expedition doctor Caroline Taylor, guide Erik and his partner Silvana and I took tables in La Poesie down the road to plan the final stages of the route down to Ushuaia. Highway 3 was the obvious choice, a slim track of tarmac that skirted the Welsh valley that stretched from Trelew to the Andes as well as the vast expanses of Patagonia. Years ago I read Bruce Chatwin’s book ‘In Patagonia’. “With this book,” a reviewer noted, “Chatwin redefined the genre of travel writing with his little nuggets of historical information weaved intricately together with his search for anecdotes.” I marvelled at the way he wove the historical with his journey.
