More gravel, more penguins...>>
I condemn the weekend to the tranquillity of the beach, making a pause in my nomad routine and enjoying the exceptional luxury of not having to pack and unpack bags for 3 straight nights. My back also appreciates it. Puerto Madryn is a city erected on a pretty bay, resulting in a touristic reference not only for being the base point for exploring Península Valdés, but also for its excellent beach, though windy, of shallow and pleasant waters. I end up spending the day with a group of Argentineans, fruit of a Couchsurfing contact. They are from Trelew, a neighbour city, and are here for holidays at the beach. It feels good to break the monotony and to be able to talk a bit. The contacts I’ve had are limited to the limited commercial conversations at supermarkets, stores and parking lots’ reception desks, and also the repetitive summary of my adventure, as an answer to the frequent questions from the various passers by: yes, it’s a beautiful bike, bmw, Portugal, it came by plane, I left Buenos Aires, I’m going to New York, yes, in the United States, yes, alone, thank you. Of course it’s hard to travel alone, there’s no mystery there, and with time you start feeling the weight of that fact. It’s odd to say that I’m only beginning, when I left over 3 weeks ago… There is a long way to go, and many conversations with myself, during the tired nights setting the tent arguing that the suffering is part of it, or on the bike, shaking my helmet when the day already counts ...
Leia na íntegra esta e outras crónicas no livro BuenaYork!