Jan. 20, 2011: Junín, BA, Argentina

I think the worst part is the bloody Camiones.

Argentina has no rail system to speak of when it comes to shipping freight (an interesting aside: all indications are that it used to; I am constantly coming across railway crossings, with the signs and everything, and rails still embedded in the roadway, but no rails on either side, just an overgrown right-of-way where it is clear that a railway used to run, but has not done for some time). So instead, the entire industry of the country relies on a neverending stream of trucks and semi-trailers plying the nation's highways. Now when a car or other private vehicle needs to pass me, no problem; there is plenty of room. But the trucks take up the entire lane, and then some (watching two of them pass each other on a particularly narrow stretch is sometimes a little cringe-inducing). Which means that I must pull off the road to let them pass. Except there is no shoulder, no nothing. There is typically a grassy verge on the side of the road, but it is often extremely soft, and I can't plod through that for more than a few metres. So I am brought to a halt until the truck passes and I can walk back onto the highway.

And there's a truck passing me by approximately once every 2-3 minutes.

So you can see how this frustrates any attempt to make decent time. Anyway. I made it to Junín fairly early. Unfortunately the next several towns are fairly small, and I didn't know what hotel availability would be like. In Carmen de Areco, there were two hotels in the whole town: when I arrived at 8:30, the first was completely full, and in the second (the aforementioned Hotel Isis), I managed to get the last available room in the place. None of the towns after Junín were even as big as Carmen de Areco, and I was unlikely to make it to any of them before about 8:00 at the earliest. So I decided the prudent thing would be to stop in Junín.

Junín is actually a decent-sized city (the largest since Buenos Aires), and I had my choice of places to stay.

Every now and then, one comes across a town with a name that is decidely not Spanish. I can't even begin to imagine how they pronounce this.
The hotel where I ended up staying had... "character"
It was actually a historic hotel (or so went the claim) that was in the process of being renovated (or so went the claim). It was filled with antiques (or so went...).
If nothing else, I think Junín had the nicest plaza of any town I've yet been in. (I never tire of them.)
And the requisite impressive buildings lining same.
The cobblestone streets — while annoying to navigate on the bike — were picturesque.

It was actually my original plan to stop in Junín on day 2 — hence Tuesday — anyway, before said plan went awry. The town is rather touristy, but it didn't take me long to decide I quite preferred the smaller, less-touristy places. Among other things, it was harder to find a decent parilla (although I did see a bunch on my way out of town the following morning; ah well) and instead decided to eat at a pizzeria. (Pizza being the 5th national culinary obsession, along with empanadas, helados (ice cream), Wiener schnitzel, and grilled meat.)

The "Especial" pizza I had — mozzarella, ham, green olives, roasted red pepper, oregano and anchovies — may not be appearing on a Canadian menu any time soon, but it was actually really good.

Tonight's wine: Bodegas Lopez Vasco Viejo Tinto 2010. One of the more downscale offerings from Bodegas Lopez. But I still rather liked it. Was pleasant enough and went well with the pizza.