I managed to get lost in Buenos Aires (two train stations named Florida on two different lines and no one at the stations having system maps didn’t help) for two hours this morning on the day on which I was to bring the bike to the airport for packing for air shipment to Los Angeles. After I became frantic, my third taxi driver managed to find Dakar Motors after asking four different people and I left Dakar on the bike at 11:30am (already 1.5 hours late for arriving at the cargo terminal).
Of course, being en retard meant that Aduana (customs) were having lunch and nothing would be processed before 2pm. So I had time to try to hide my clothes and other non-motorcycling-related belongings (clothes, camping equipment, etc, more than half of my luggage for the trip) in my cases in the hopes that the inspector wouldn’t force me to take all of those things with me on my own flight. After disconnecting the battery terminals, lowering the tire pressure, and showing that the fuel tank was almost empty, the Aduana woman spent about 30 seconds looking at my bike (without checking the ID numbers) and then said ‘OK’.
The bike was then strapped down onto a makeshift wooden pallet, and then covered in loads of shrink-wrap plastic and picked up by a forklift and taken away – it was a big production for my bike which only has sentimental value. While watching this I was approached by three businessmen who were taking an interest in my activities. It turned out that they run a biofuel business and are motorcyclists themselves. The president gave me his card after talking to me for a while and asked questions about my fuel usage and said he wants to sponsor me with biofuel if I take another trip.
Buenos Aires is a seductive city, it does indeed feel more like a European city than any others I’ve been through in the Americas – right down to the sport of trying to dodge dog crap all over the pavement. I’ve walked an gotten lost in the Palermo area, fought the crowds in microcentro (the center), stayed out all night like the locals (the bars don’t open in many cases until midnight and aren’t full until 3am, closing at 6-9am), and caught impromptu tango in the streets of San Telmo.
And went to the Recoletta neighbourhood cemetery which contains the remains of the richer and more famous Argentines – including Eva Peron.
I left it yesterday and arrived in Los Angeles, California this morning – it’s a bit of culture shock.









I assume ‘los madres del plaza mayo’ ( or something like that ) are either out of business or not on your itinerary ,or are in fact in a completely different country . The biofuels man’s offer sounds worth a follow up . A KLR trip around Compton should be good for a short story . Welcome sorta home .
Gracias for the Tango pictures that kind of convey the atmosphere of the place to us immobiles. Almost looks/feels like Havana, although there the clothes would be more sparse, the skin shades more varied, and the swinging behinds more voluminous ;-)