In the beginning Silver fever Parana Iguazu Buenos Aries Andes 4,200 Metres Humahuaca Rio De Janeiro Samba Uruguay Montevideo Chile Valpraso Santiago Different views Curanipe Curanipe village Chile beachs Trupane Volcano Antuco Los Angeles Belgrano

Saturday, early rise and off Via the Pam American highway that stretches from Alaska to the Southern tip of South America. We were out on the Pampas and able to see what it was about, Thousands of k's of flat land very green with scattered trees and farm houses and sheds about and beef cattle with some sheep (black) and a few horses. So this is what the Pampas looks like.

On the road to San Antonio, and passed people on a religious pilgrimage, carrying their religious icons.

There are amazing old cars and trucks on the road in various states of disrepair. Numerous vehicles from the 60s and 70s. Falcons and Hillman avengers with VW badges on them.

We went to an Estancia (cattle ranch) on the Pampas and found it was set up for local tourists from Buenos Aires. As the Pampas runs one cow per one and a half hectare. The owner who spoke perfect English and whose family had owned this ranch for generations, was not able to make ends meet with just beef so was breeding Polo ponies and selling them for 20,000 pesos, $NZ10,000 each.

BBQ Argentine style, with Gaucho using road sign to trap the heat. While the boss looks on.

We went onto San Antonio where we spent time in a Silver Museum and saw the Silversmiths at work. We followed Rhondda and Antonio who were possessed with silver fever around this town and saw a number of little Silversmiths shops while Rhondda and Antonio checked out the silver. We went to a local diner for lunch with an amazing BBQ. While there we were entertained by the local cars, small motorcycles being ridden by any number of people, whole families on one bike no helmets baby sitting on Dads knee with 3 year old on the other knee and kid between his legs in charge of the bike. These people seem very carefree.

After lunch went to another estancia that was now a museum. A bird protecting its nesting young on the ground attacked Antonio. It was fantastic for us but a big fright for Antonio to see this bird in flight turn and zoom along 1 to 2 metres above the ground directly at Antonios face and miss him by inches. He had to duck and run.

Traditional Estancia building

After the estancia we went to ride the horses but when we saw the horses we had pity on them. They were not the prancing Spanish stallions we anticipated, but were one step from the glue pot. So from there we wandered back to town and more silversmiths. This village was beautiful.

On the way home we viewed the changing scene as cars passed us without concern for “no pass lines”.

Now we digress, an insight into the driving over here. We understand why South America has so many formula one drivers because that is how they drive on the roads. Lane markings overtaking lines driving in lanes and speed limits are nothing. The only thing they respect is the traffic light.

This is how it works. The light turns green and they are off flat out and the object is to pass the next car in any manner possible without hitting it, and as close as possible taking any gap that opens using brinkmanship to the ultimate inch.

When first seen, you are in fear of your life but after a while you see the skill. There is no such thing as right hand rule. It is all about timing and speed and if required a slight adjustment at intersections. This means that one car goes in one direction and another in the cross street then goes without both cars slowing and if there are lines of traffic then the cars cross alternately without slowing. Rhondda thinks its hair raising but as I don’t have hair I thought it was skilful, we have not seen one accident.

One motorcyclist was travelling along the busy main street with traffic flowing at about 60 to 80 ks. He had a pillion passenger with no helmet and he was riding no hands cell phone in one hand reading a pamphlet in the other with his helmet perched above his ears on top of his head. He then took the helmet off because it would slip down as he rode along and he could not hear his cell phone and then commenced to talk as he rode his bike still with no hands weaving amongst the traffic. As is the fashion here the motorcycle did not have a headlight or rear mudguard or numberplate.

We stopped out side the infamous Argentine Navy Mechanics base where the people in thousands were killed and tortured during the dictatorship. This place is going to be a museum to those that were killed and suffered during the dictatorship.