As I rode across the isthmus to Peninsula Valdés to see the killer whales I saw in the distance the unmistakeable form of a wheelless bike and a man doing a little light inner-tube wrestling.It was Patrick, Swiss, Honda 400 trailie. So I gave him a hand and we rode together to the campsite at Puerto Pirámides where we met Adriano, Italy, Africa Twin. There followed a couple of days of chilling out by/on the beach with a little light eating and not-so-light drinking. Adriano's on a time limit so left for Ushuaia on the second day, and Patrick has to get back for work in Bahia in Brazil.

So I continued north to Viedma for the Horizons do. Well, furtle up my bits with an exhaust spanner, I rode on to the campsite and there were no less than seven UK-registered BMWs, including a 1200GS and a 100GS outfit looking like a grown-up Wasp outfit. The rest of the gathering were variously US, Mexican, Australian and Argentinian on a variety of machinery.

On the Sunday rideout we went to see the sealions, then to a farm (lots of ripio) for a lamb asado. That's where they split the body down the breastbone and spreadeagle it on huge spits over a wood fire. Fabulous. Anyway, the farm was owned by Julian (also a motorcyclist), and he handed out fresh sheepskins to anyone who wanted one. I think I ate part of the animal mine is from. He cut them more or less to size for our saddles with a fearsomely sharp knife and explained how to prepare them with soaking and salt and soap.

Everyone had ripio stories similar to mine, and I was rather relieved to find that far from being a wimp and a girly even the rufty-tufties like Martin and Alan (R1150GS each, from Marlow) had decided life's too short and are avoiding it where remotely possible, even if it means big detours.

So I'm back in Trelew, and riding south with Bev and Fritz on their 100GS and Nick on his 1200GS. We'll probably spend Crimble in Rio Gallegos and be at the end of the world for New Year (along with everyone else). Our sheepskins are drying out in the hotel car park.