21.02.: Paso de los Libres / Province of Corrientes / Argentina

21.02.:

Another nice farewell from my hosts.

After packing my vespa, I go upstairs to take some photos of the artworks and notify them that the gate will be opened - only works with a remote control.

I suspect that the house is their parental home and that they did not grow up in poor conditions. The house has three floors, the lower two of which are for guests. She occupies the top floor - almost a penthouse with a panoramic view of Uruguaiana and the Rio Uruguay.

On the ground floor, there is a tapestry on the wall above an antique sofa... in front of which stands a large dining table with numerous chairs covered in white leather. Many festive evening gatherings have certainly been held here.

The drive across the bridge to a new country and over the magnificent Rio Uruguay is already impressive. The two quite narrow lanes do not do justice to the significance of this moment.

To the right of me, separated by a small wall, I can still see the grass-covered narrow-gauge railway tracks that used to transport goods from the dry port to Argentina. In the past - as evidenced by old photos on the website - the fully-loaded trains marched through the streets, temporarily blocking traffic islands, and fought their way through the streets of the city center alongside motorcyclists and pedestrians.

The border crossing is relatively quick. I'm lucky because I arrived before a tour bus whose guests flood the passport control.

The vespa is three days late and strictly speaking, it could have been confiscated or I would have had to pay high overdraft fees.

The cause of this surprise is perhaps that the Brazilian colleagues at the Peru border didn't know exactly when the 90 days for my visa expired. On 18.02. or maybe on 26.02.?

The customs officer here is alone. The colleagues are either on a training course or on their lunch break. When he wants to see the vespa, it is no longer in its place! Moment of panic.

But then he suspects that it must be on the other side - in the direction of Argentina and not in the direction of Brazil... and there it is. Untouched and patiently waiting.

Argentina's Bandera has accompanied me in my wallet for over a year and has flown across the South American continent and the Atlantic twice. I bought it in Quito. Now that the wheels of the vespa have touched Argentinean soil, I can attach the flag to the windshield

Paso de los Libres welcomes me with bumpy streets, respectable potholes, and dusty roads. But the closer I get to the center, the better it gets and fortunately, the comparison with Puerto Maldonado is no longer mentioned.

My starting position:

No Argentine pesos and no network.

It is noon, a proud 37 degrees, and the city is in siesta mode. My original plan is to go to the nearest Western Union branch and collect the pesos transferred to me. First, I try my luck at an ATM in a bank, which actually accepts my Visa card right away and spits out the allowed maximum amount of 2,000 pesos (about 40 €). A hefty 10% fee is charged.

The saleswoman at the drugstore tells me that siesta is only over at 5:00 p.m.

On my way to the vespa, I notice a restaurant. The tinted windows make it almost impossible to see inside, giving the suspicion that it is closed. But no. As I enter, I see set tables and am very surprised by the cultivated atmosphere. This could be expensive, I think, but hunger prevails and the stomach needs something real after 3 days of fasting. To start, there is white bread with delicious garlic butter, accompanied by freshly squeezed orange juice and sparkling water. Alongside that, a schnitzel with a slice of ham and generously topped with cheese. The dish is called Milanesa Neapolitana. And the price? Just under 5 euros!

Strengthened, I go to my hostel. Without navigation and a city map, it's a challenge, but after asking multiple times, I arrive at a large gate entrance that leads me to a row of apartment buildings side by side. The windows facing the back offer a view of the Rio Uruguay and the skyline of Uruguaiana.

Siesta! The air conditioning is set to 20 degrees, and it feels like closing a refrigerator door behind me. I still have time and after an hour, I'm ready for the second part of my to-do list.

I know from the bank where I withdrew the money this morning to post also acts as a Western Union representative.

A line is formed in front of the counters, which are staffed by only two people. I pass by them, interrupt the customer conversation, and confirm that Western Union money is indeed being paid out here. The employee asks if I come from Germany and then nods.

Do only Germans or Europeans now have the privilege of this service? I wonder.

I join the line and ask the person in front of me which internet provider he works for. He confirms the information from the drugstore and recommends Claro.

I finally get to the counter, and after filling out a form, I am handed a thick bundle of 200 peso bills. I don't feel so comfortable because I don't know who is behind me in line. The robber Hotzenplotz with greed-filled eyes? I decide not to count the money, stash the bundle in my backpack, and go on my way.

I can already check off the first item on my to-do list

But when I get to Claro, I realize that I left my smartphone at the post office. A disaster! Made worse by the fact that the postal worker locked the door after me.

I ask the Claro agent to call the post office and announce my arrival so that they will wait for me, but he casually says that the post office doesn't have a phone.

I rush through the city and when I arrive, I see that the lights are still on. People are still standing in front of the post office building. So there is still some activity... but the door is locked. However, I can see the postal workers doing their final tasks and knocking on the glass door. No reaction. But then the colleague recognizes me, nods knowingly, which reassures me, and then comes to the door with the smartphone in hand. Close call!!!

After the Claro man sold me a two-week flat rate for 5 euros, I treat myself to a water and a beer and check off the second item. That could have gone really wrong!!!

A little side note:

Those who like cats can't imagine this.

As I enter the Claro store for the first time, a long-legged, silver-gray beauty strolls towards me. She behaves reservedly, as well-behaved cats should, and only acknowledges me when her sister appears.
I hold out my hand for her to sniff and develop some sympathy.
And now comes the funny part: she sits on her hind legs and claps her front paws together, straight as a candle, and doesn't stop. In fact, every time I hold out my hand again, she starts clapping again. Unfortunately, she makes a slightly foolish cat face while doing so...
Cats are not taught such things, and if they are, they don't perform this trick for any random human, I think and don't know whether I should appreciate her performance or be proud that she immediately took a liking to me and wanted to impress me.

Tomorrow I will continue towards Concordia on RN 14. I'm postponing the plan to go to Rosario from here. The average speed indicated by Google Maps is too slow and suggests that the road conditions are poor. This matches the warnings from my hostel landlord in Uruguaiana. Besides, the distance is too far for one stage. There are no towns along the way. And I don't feel like camping in this heat.