Arriving, I am wondering about the sanity of coming here in the first place. We wobble shell-shocked along the highway's fringe. More traffic passes per minute than has passed us in the previous four months. This is interstate action eight lanes thick, overpasses, off-ramps, and all. Interstate! Only lunatics bike on interstates. For once the stunned looks from passing traffic come as no surprise.
Our guess is a good one and we have found our exit, but there is no tangible connection between here and the street address scrawled on our paper. Thankfully we attract two young cycle guides who lead us through the maze of backstreets and eventually to Andres's door. What an ordeal. The shock of metropolitan traffic has taken its toll and we want nothing more than to call it a day. Of course, no one is home. We leave word with neighbors and set off reluctantly with our guides to find a campsite. The only place around is reserved for members and we are too tired to argue. Looks like the YPF again — our gas-station home away from home.
We aren't inside long when an attendant comes to find us. "There's a couple outside looking for you by your tent." Curious, we head outside. It's Andres and Teresa, his wife. They've found us. Amazingly, they are even more excited than we are. "Vamos!" Andres screams. Let's go. "A mi casa!" Teresa is hugging us like long-lost relatives. "Vamos! Vamos!" Andres is tugging my arm. Let's go. "Wait," we protest. "We have to pay for our food. We have to pack our tent. We have to load the bikes." Andres brushes it all aside with a wave of his hand. Nancy stands bewildered in the swirl of excitement. Teresa grabs her and they head back inside where Teresa tells everyone in sight of our journey and their search for us. Outside, Andres is throwing our bikes in the back of his pickup screaming "Vamos!" while I scramble to put everything into panniers and stuff sacks. A crowd of truckers has gathered to watch the circus.
Eventually, we get everything together and arrive back at Andres's. He's non-stop taking us on a tour of the house, showing us his wines and canned fruits, the patio he's constructed, the garden. Teresa has roused the neighbors and they come over for a look. We're caught up in a swirl of excitement and wonder. It becomes a long night as the wine and stories flow. Andres and Teresa insist we stay until the coming weekend when all the family can come and eat an asado. Their amazing hospitality has our heads reeling. Our welcome has exceeded our wildest dreams. Finally we call it a night, with Andres reminding us we have all the coming week to share stories. Besides, our faces can't take any more smiling.