Next bit wasn ’ t such fun ; a ride to the seaside turns into getting drained , bagged and boxed for a 2 month boat ride I thought would never end . Then the break out and a happy reunion at long last with Mags in that far off land they call Chile , which was anything but . The other fella was there too and we were all set for the start of some grand journey .
At that moment in time I was clean and lean , with 6000 on the clock and raring to go . Then ‘ the luggage ’ appeared . I don ’ t know where they got the half of that stuff or why they thought they would need it but , with the boxes filled to bursting , I had bag after bag piled on my rear end such that when we took off I figured we were just going to wheelie all the way to Alaska …
Man , those first South American roads were crazy … Paved streets led out of the city on to empty country roads through pleasant , rolling hill country as we headed south . Then ,
somewhere off to the left , an exciting purplehazed line with snow-peaked ripples indicated we were converging with the Andes Mountains . We hit some dual carriageway – turns out it ’ s the famous Pan-Americana like it says on my tats . Mags opens the throttle and gives it some juice . Next thing there ’ s chickens on the road ; some eejit has let them loose and they ’ re all over the highway . We pass through in a flurry of feathers and it teaches us to slow down , we ’ re not at home . Good job too as next thing I see a guy on a bicycle , cycling towards us in the fast lane .
Purple-haze , orange diamonds and the dreaded five-letter word D E S V I O ; warning that the road ’ s been dug up ahead and replaced by a novelty off-road fun park . Fun if you know what you ’ re doing , but Mags doesn ’ t ; she ’ s a strict amateur at this sort of thing and I ’ m just a road bike with off-road pretensions and styling to match . I got this want to stick my nose in , shake my head and see what happens …