Our loop coming north, back up the east side of the Andes in Argentina, looks like being shorter than expected.

We stopped in the Chilean border town of Chile Chico for a rest, after riding for 12 continuous days. The town is on the side of the 2nd largest lake in South America, Lago General Carrera (or Lago Buenos Aires if you are Argentinian, as the border line splits the lake between the two countries).

There were a lot of poplar trees around, to act as wind breaks for constant West -> East Patagonian wind.

Once we crossed into Argentina to a slightly larger border town which was having a "Cherry, Music and Gaucho" festival, we stopped at the bank to withdraw some money.

No cards worked.

Fortunately we always carry dollars, so we had a look for a money exchange, usually plentiful at all border towns. There weren't any. I then realised we had not seen any in Chile Chico either.

On our previous 2 visits to Argentina we had no trouble using the same cards.

I should have thought on a bit more, back in England we could not get any Argentinian Pesos. Assuming there was a black market, I went in a small shop and asked if they knew anyone who would change dollars. With a shifty look the senora said "wait a few minutes for the shop to clear".

I was happy to see the rate was much higher than the official one (11 and not 8.5 AR$ / dollar). We managed to exchange enough to live on for 3 days. I foolishly declined her offer to also exchange Chilean pesos.

Happy days, hit the road.

Or at least hit the wind. We knew it could be bad here. Ruta 40, which runs the full length of Argentina from Cabo Virgenes at the tip of the southern mainland to the border with Bolivia in the north, tracking the east side of the Andes, is famous for the strength of it's wind. But this was so bad it was laughable. As soon as we turned north past the police checkpoint with an officer being blown across the road it felt like we hit a brick wall and were immediately shoved across the road. Jean opted to ride on the left to allow maximum leeway to the right. When we rode Ruta 3 up the Arentinian Atlantic coast back in 2011 it was a constant west wind and easier to handle than this swirling blustery one.

It occurred to me that signs with numbers in red circles (40, 60, 90) did not mean the speed limit, but perhaps the wind speed.

That evening, in a wind battered dusty town at another bank, still none of our cards would work (we have the full set of Visa, Mastercard (a preloaded card) and American Express).

So we went out for a steak.

The next morning we queued at the bank and asked to change some money.

"Dollars?", said the cashier. "No, Chilean Pesos", I replied. "Only dollars", he repeated (we'd already used our supply).

"Can I take some money on my card please?" "No, use the machine" he said pointing at the ATM.

"None of my cards work in it"

"Tough", he replied, or words to that effect.

Carry on north then.

Next problem, fuel, we knew where the petrol stations were, they just had to have it. The area must have been dry for a day or two as at one place the whole town seemed to be having a family day out at the petrol station.

Getting close, we can see the sign !

One and a half hours later we were mobile again, after using some more precious cash because they would not take cards. We declined to join the queue at the next town and carried on to Esquel.

Esquel had abundant petrol stations with no queues. Not so abundant with banks. Following more failed attempts to extract any money we pointed the bikes to the Welsh community village at Trevelin, pitched the tent and faced our options.

Chile is only 45kms away, and we have an abundance of Chilean Pesos. It looks like a bit more ripio over a small border pass and a revist to the Carretera Austral.

Maybe we will make more use of the roadside bike washes.