Well, clunk clunk anyway.  It began last night just before we pulled up for the night.  A solid resounding clunk from somewhere under the back of the Landy.  After we set off this morning and got a few more clunks Paul took the time to peer under the back when we stopped at the fuel station for a coffee.  Who’d’ve believed it.  One of the two bolts holding the axle in place on the A-frame had sheared off and fallen out, leaving only one bolt holding the back of the car together.  Not a good idea.  At the time of discovery we were just outside the town of San Carlos de Bolivar so we gently clunked our way around town looking for parts shops or other ideas.  The idea came in the form of noticing a man up a ladder painting.  Paul thought he’d be an out of town worker but I suggested at least asking where the “mechanics district” could be found – there’s always one somewhere.  Turned out he was a local and led us to his ‘amigo’ several blocks away who turned out to be a very competent mechanic with a very tidy but well used workshop.  Tourist prices but for an on the spot job from someone who knew just where to buy very rare, very specialist bolts, it was worth it.

Having already spent most of the morning stuck in the fuel station trying to deal with issues arising via email we were running late for the day and so pressed on from there, reaching the rather grand sounding Mercedes just a hundred kilometres from our destination, the port of Zarate on the northern outskirts of Buenos Aires.

More road, more driving.  Long and straight as we charge up the east coast.  We saw half a dozen trees too today!  Gone are the flocks of sheep and guanaco as we’ve begun to see the famous Argentinean beef herds now we are getting closer to Buenos Aires.

Having developed what appears to be a problem with the relay system that makes our headlights inconsistent we stopped a little earlier than we had originally intended, finding a lovely set of cabanas on the junction of Ruta 33 and Ruta 65 just outside Guamini.

Petroleum man

The thing Comodoro Rivadavia is famous for is being the location of the finding of oil and the founding of Argentine’s national fuel chain (now privatised) YPF.  Yesterday we saw the pumps working in the fields as we drove north up Ruta 3 as it runs long and straight along the eastern coast.  The town monument at the entrance to the town is of an oil worker.  So, this morning I was looking forward to a visit to El Museo de Petroleo before we hit the long road again.  The guide book mentions the museum as something for those who like to visit places other tourists don’t usually bother with.  Perfect for me then!  Unfortunately at the weekend it only opens for three hours Saturday afternoon and we simply didn’t have the time to sit and wait.

So, a little disappointed, it was back on the road again, heading towards our container sitting in the port at Zarate on the northern edge of Beunos Aires.  Africa is beginning to feel more real each day as we close in on our embarkation date.

We pushed on and made good time against our schedule.  The highlight of the day came at night as we headed east to our final destination for the day, San Antionio de Oeste, and the huge orange orb of the moon slipped up over the horizon in front of us before disappearing into the invisible black cloud in the sky.