Of pigs and pegs

Heading south along the coast we are now on the Carretera Austral, our route for the next several weeks. We pass a quiet night on a campsite and for once are not alone. Our honey mooning chilean campers are generous and we munch on coconut biscuits.

The display of snow-topped mountains continues. We are back on ripio and, for what is basically a flat trajectory, we are up and down and back and forth and are made to work really hard. The trick would be to be able to admire the view whilst paying careful attention to the optimal route though the potholes, washboard, and gravel. However this is yet to be sussed out by us. Life in ripio is bumpy and grey. We, the bikes, our washing and the water bottles also turn a shade of grey and I wonder about the nutritional content of the dust storm that follows the passing of each truck.

As for the pig. Cutely grunting in the garden when we arrived. We were not so impressed when it decided to batter our tent just after dark. By the time we got out there were 2 tent pegs missing. Alice spent the night wondering how long a peg would take to go through a pig digestive system and was on alert to defend in case of further attacks. (But luckily we found the tossed pegs in the light of the morning).Read more