Many have called me crazy. Many have called me brave. Others just shake their heads when they contemplate the 827km journey that I am about to embark upon on my Siambretta motorbike.
They say that it cannot be done. I say that it is only because few choose to do it. They say that there is rain along the way. I say that it will make the journey less hot, and reduce the dust and traffic. They say that I need more time. I say that the two days I am allowing is much more than I could possibly need. They ask if the bike will make it. I tell them to watch me and see.
My motorbike has caused me a lot of anguish over the last few weeks since I bought it, and has been in the repair shops almost as much as with me. This afternoon I finally replaced the rear shock absorber and the leaky fuel tank. Now all is done. Well mostly.
There is no time like the present, so they tell me, and there has to be a moment to go. So tomorrow morning at 8am I climb aboard my bike, point it in the direction of Salta (north-western corner of Argentina) and go.
It will be sad to leave so many amazing people and some very awesome friends in the YWAM base in Corrientes, but I know that it is time to move on, and so I go. First to Salta, then to Bolivia, and onward I continue the journey.
Although the bus would be easier. It would be faster. It would be more comfortable. It would be cheaper….
…it would not be the adventure. It would not be the challenge. It would not be with such expectation. It would not be the fun.
So after all of the fights, and despite the sensibility of going by bus, there is only one way to arrive in Salta.
I am going by bike.