Now, cycling in Argentina is highlighted by baking bread and sampling some more fences, with my very own gaucho show!
I always wondered: what is going on behind white-washed slightly moldy walls, messy compounds, with wash-lines full of haphazardly hung children’s clothes, naked kids playing around. I now know.
Not much is known about Uruguay. People don’t elaborate on this country. I’m trying to find something worth while cycling through.
Longed to be in the Uruguayan spring, I meet with boredom and rain. What I hoped for is not here.