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29 DECEMBER 2005 - To the border!
Today we wanted to get as close to the Paraguayan border as possible. Paraguay, the country of legend. Until the late 1990’s the economy was based on Whisky smuggling - largely by the military generals! In the 19th C its dictator, bloated by his own self importance, led little (but then rich) Paraguay into a war with Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay – simultaneously! Something like 80% of its male population were wiped out between 1860 and 1875. Women and children were forced to fight. And behind this war many believe was an Irish woman, Eliza Lynch. Eliza was born to a poor family in Ireland and through her looks and effort in educating herself she became a courtesan in Paris. When the heir to Paraguay, Francisco Lopez, arrived spending money liberally she spotted a chance and he ended up taking her home. Though they never married she encouraged thoughts of him becoming Emperor of South America, Napoleon fashion. The story of the courage of the people, the amazing disregard for human life, the snobbery, the torture and fear is almost too much to believe. British contractors were employed by Lopez to construct railways, steam boats, artillery and forts, an Opera house, the Presidential palace and much more. Children were conscripted as labour for many of these works. Most of the British contractors ended up being tortured and shot.
Allegedly Paraguay is one of the most undeveloped South American countries, is recognised as being the poorest South American country and still much shunned by her neighbours. Our Brazilian friends were insistent we should not come here, it was too dangerous. Many Argentineans felt the same. Only Miguel’s friend Horatio Lopez, who has offices in the capital of Paraguay, Asuncion, assured us we would be ok, and if we weren’t he kindly gave us his contacts to ring.
Anyway back to today. A good breakfast in the little hotel delivered by a round smiling cook/waitress. Our first really good fruit juice. Normally you just get cordial, or sweetened juice. Home made pasties and sweet bread, all most acceptable. By 7.30 we were off. Ivor’s car is having a few problems, the water pump seems to spill out a litre of water every 200 miles and is getting worse and then there are the oil leaks… We want to make sure the cars are Ok for our dash to the dangerous Paraguay, if they aren’t we may not go.
So, off on Rn11 to Reconquista (re-conquered) and up to Resistencia (resistance) if we can take the heat. The very names of the places along the famous Parana river spell conflict. Paraguay lost 100s of thousands of square miles of territory after the War of the triple Alliance.
We passed more and more examples of Spanish/French architecture. Today they tend to be the poorest buildings, as if the history had no value and a new property was the thing to have. We passed huge fields of what looked like lettuce/cabbage, fields of black & white Friesian and Hereford cattle. Goats moving in flocks to pastures, giant grain silos shining in the sun. Smart looking Spanish style villas, some with pools, rubbed shoulders with creations in timber and corrugated iron. It was really all very odd. Vast lush fields with very English cattle, hedges and trees – all looking like parts of Kent, with temperatures up in the 40s, buzzards and vultures, racoons, parrots, storks and goodness knows what some of the other birds were! Mix this with new villas and the roughest looking huts built in the shade of the trees and you get the picture.
The heat was so intense we found ourselves drinking 1.5 litres in a few hours with no need to stop for a comfort break!
One bird we named ‘the broken telegraph pole bird’. We only saw its nests on the broken telegraph poles of the disused railway. How about that for evolution! Working poles it didn’t nest on at all!
Though we were on tarmac roads, most side roads were gripa, even in towns we would wait for ages at traffic lights for something to appear on a small grippa road. So far throughout South America signs for the Rotary club and Lions club appear, particularly the Rotary club signs are everywhere! Quite impressive.
As we go further north into hotter and hotter regions the police and political police become more of a pest. Every region you enter you have to go through a road block manned by the political police. Apart from the first few days travelling from Buenos Aires where they would ask to see all our papers, write down lots of numbers (usually incorrectly) and let us go, for the last few weeks we have become used to just grins and being waved through. Though sometimes they pull you in for a chat and to practice their English or to try and ask about the cars. But now as we go north they are getting back to wanting numbers and documents. The police also do something similar as you enter and leave a major township, or sometimes just anywhere. No one has yet been able to tell us what the point of it all is… One hotel employee who insisted on passport numbers written on our credit card slips in grinned and said ‘hey this is Argentina’.
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As we went on we passed endless palm trees with cattle grazing round them. Then equally endless (ok, obviously not endless really) tall palms with sunflowers at their base. We also came across vast areas of field burning, we assume to clear the area for cultivation. Enormous combine harvesters and stuff I haven’t a clue what it was would lumber past. Very expensive pieces of kit I am sure, there is clearly major investment in the region. The whole area must grow huge quantities of food for the country and for the world.
We are also seeing more begging. Typically young children with large dark eyes and torn T shirts between 6 and 8 years old ask for money very gently. We don’t give any, but whether that is right or wrong I don’t know. One Argentinean man threw a young boy and girl a few coins on the ground and they threw them selves in the dust and scrabbled to grab them. As they get older many children then hang around at the traffic lights trying to sell something or clean a windscreen. When you say no to them, these teenagers, just like their younger counterparts, are still friendly and smiling and the older ones usually want to know something about the cars. As new year approaches we also see a number selling fireworks. Crackers, rockets and so on at the side of the road. In fact wait long enough at the side of the road and you can buy most things!
In the heat of the day, whether it was a modern Villa or self made shack we would see families outside, eating under the shade of a tree. Lots of socialising and the children playing, it was really too hot to do anything else. If they saw us in time we usually got a wave. Shops are usually open very late, after 10pm, but with a 2 or 3 hour break for the heat of the day, this is understandable.
When we arrived at Resistencia at about 5pm we asked a bunch of lads in a car that was stuck alongside us, and had been asking us about the cars, where a good hotel was. They would show us. So we followed them to the Amerian Casino (yes, spelt that way). What a change from what we are used to. Underground parking, real air conditioning throughout. Rooms bigger than many of the houses we have seen. It was just wonderful. We staggered in from the car park, our bags were taken from us and very hot, tired and dusty we checked in. Now the Westie has developed again a battery charging fault and Ivor’s water pump is in a bad way. So, we decided to let the cars cool and we would work on them in the garage. There was no point in having a wash as the garage was like an oven – so it was to the room to type up Dec 27th and 28th then work on the car. It was bad down there. The sweat dripped off us like a bunch of faulty taps as we worked. The Westie just needed the charging circuit tightening, knocking the dust off and lots of WD40 sprayed into the alternator to loosen the dust. Then check the oil and water throughout. Finished before 8pm. Ivor and Alan were there until closer to 10pm changing the water pump. The language was quite colourful.
I then had time for a bath. What luxury. I even broke open the mini-bar and drank a cold beer in the bath. Wow. Ok, I miss read the free bottles of stuff in the bathroom and had a bath in hair conditioner rather than bubble bath, but mixing in some shampoo made a few bubbles. The layers of grease, sweat and blood (always some blood when working on the car) floated away. Clean cloths and a meal with Chris in the huge and absolutely empty restaurant. The food was great, the wine was great, they even served Chris an ice bucket for his beer. The service was by a portly man in a traditional French waiter’s outfit who visibly puffed with pride and beamed with pleasure when ever we complemented him on the food or wine. How much? All for about £20 for the two of us. For a single room it was about £45, including breakfast. Ivor and Alan were eating when and how they could and Julian had gone for an early night, so Chris and I talked about life and the Universe once more. After 11pm I went off to the Internet room to send dispatches. Breakfast 8.30 tomorrow and … Paraguay.
Serious error today. Today was my wedding anniversary, my 15th. I forgot, my far better half didn’t. By the time I stopped to look around me it was after midnight in the UK. VERY Sorry...
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