It’s only been two days since I got off my trusty BMW1200
GSA and I’m missing the wind in my face, the freedom of the road
and the edge of adventure like a homesick child. New York seems
such a safe and cocooned world compared, which I guess seems a mad
thought for a city built on adrenaline. The thought of being stuck
indoors sounds so stifling and wing clipped, but I know I’m diving
back into a sea of complexity and immediate needs which will
reabsorb my life. In aid of easing our departure, Buenos Aires is
in the throws of a horrific storm and I’m curled up in a corner at
the Ultra Hotel, a quiet boutique hotel in the fashionable suburb
of Palermo Viejo. An hour ago I had a fabulous conversation with
one of the Dutch truck pilots (aka drivers) who shared his amazing
life experiences over the last few weeks. His boundless energy and
passion was truly infectious and by the end of it I’d mentally
signed up to attempt the 2012 race. A rally car driver in Holland,
he’d signed up to ride his first Dakar this year and come in 20th.
He talked of his 12 hour race days, the spectator that had been
killed getting too near the action, how he’d descended the 3,000
sand face of Iquique without touching his breaks for fear of
forward rolling the ten ton truck, his life in the camp and his
future plans – I was mesmerized! He’d emerged like us from the
traditional late nights of BA, yet he wasn’t skipping a beat, high
on life and on his was to the Dakar awards podium, which I presume
now stands a foot under water. Last night for Michael, Fewelly and
I was a fabulous dinner of Argentinian steak and a solid Molbec –
delicious – how great food tastes after your taste buds have been
revitalized with life. Talking of which, half way through dinner,
friends Michael and Betsy had introduced us to at the Faena Hotel
at the start of the trip spotted us and joined us for drinks.
They’d both left there lives as leaders in the fashion world for
the road and we’re topping their soles back up with yoga, tango and
adventure. Love it! And working back to the later part of the day,
we’d been treated to an amazing 16hours in beautiful Cordoba to
wrap up the trip. A stunning Yorkshire like countryside that
brought great friends Al and Wendy to mind. There we watched a
local Argentinian Rodeo over great wines and meats, laughing at the
guts these riders had to straddle some of the maddest horses on the
planet. For some reason our last few weeks trip came to mind!
Talking of which, we had a few hours to kill before we left for BA
from Cordoba and not one to sit still, I took a ride on one of the
estates polo horse. I should have caught on when the reaction of
perplexity from jockey Manuel reflected off his face when I suggest
we cantor. I have never ridden a race horse before and probably
will never again, but this thing lowered it’s neck inches off the
ground and sped down our trail as if on fire. I thought my arse
hurt after twelve days and over 7,000k of motorcycling – this thing
punished me for even thinking I could control it and left me
walking like a caned school boy! That’s it for now – I’m going to
transition into a new blog for my return to NY and back fill this
one as we edit our amazing video footage and add depth to stories I
couldn’t muster energy for during the trip. It’s been fun capturing
the last few weeks on only an iPhone that thanks to rocks, now has
a fractured screen. Thank you all for your fabulously supportive
comments. They carried me through some of the toughest days of my
life. Love and light to you all. Will x