The worse of the 40 was behind us and with new asphalt under us we’d clocked up over 420 miles today and had reached small laid back town of El Bolsen
We’d reached Rio Mayo in good time and had swapped the 40 for the 22, which in turn came and went as we picked up the 20.

Lisa’s chain was becoming a real issue forcing us to stop every 80-100km in order to inspect and tighten it. Not a big job but it was disrupting our riding and stopping us from getting into a riding rhythm. By the time we’d reached Esquel we were cursing.

We camped just on the outskirts of El Bolsen at Camp Chacra. (Find it GPS: S41 58.288 W71 31.546) as the only campers we chose a prime spot and made ourselves at home.

…a freezing night!

We were heading just West of Bariloche town centre aiming to spend time with new friends. We’d received an out of the blue email from Jackie and Moira Rhodius, who’d visited the web site after spotting the bikes in Buenos Aires, and we’d accepted a kind offer to spend some time with them.

The direction in their last email had been spot on and by early afternoon we’d easily ridden into Centro Bariloche, found Lake Nahuel Huapi and were following the twisty lake side road West out to Jackie and Moira’s home.

…Wow!!! What a house…what a position!

Alerted by the noise of the bikes, Moira, Thommy and Marina were already in the yard. The large wooden gates of their home opened easily and with the bikes parked up inside the yard, we ‘de-biked’ ourselves and exchanged warm hello’s. It was strange but great, we’d only communicated by email and yet we felt at home immediately. Moira’s easy, relaxed and warm welcome had a lot to do with that. It’s at moments like these, when after meeting new friends for the first time and having exchanged kisses and friendship hugs that it makes me think how utterly stupid and regretful Northern European social culture is. We protect and hide behind this imaginary 3 foot personal barrier, which we imagine will shield us from…God knows what. We keep strangers at arms length, assesing their social status, prior to giving anything of ourselves, or risk showing delight or genuine warmth. A cautious smile and a firm handshake but nothing more. The ‘Great British reserve’. After over 3-years on the road, I can tell you climbing over yourself and that wall that protects your ‘space’ is hard at first but the rewards are there. Spend a few weeks or months in most of South America, watch people greet each other, interact and you’ll see what I mean. Give me social intimacy over social distance any day. Sorry, anyway, food for thought.

Jackie had sent down his apologies via Moira, he’d been in bed all day with some kind of bug which had knocked him sideways yesterday. We’ll see him later.

The bikes had already made themselves comfortable in the large garage and we’d followed Moira down the side of this impressive house and into the small sub-terrainian self contained flat at the back of the house, looking right out at lake Nahuel Huapi. “Is this OK for you”, Moira asked earnestly. We were pretty speechless. “Er, yes wonderful”, we think we mumbled in semi-disbelief. A little while later and we’d regained a little composure and expressed our surprise and delight at our new lodging. Thommy had even lent us his TV, which had been placed at the foot of the large bed.

With dirty bags wiped down and placed in our room, we’d tidied ourselves up, showered and made ourselves a ittle more presentable. I’d not seen myself for a few days and after a look in the mirror I’d been astonished Moira had wanted to come anywhere near me when we arrived, let alone hug me. Brave lady!

As the evening drew in we’d popped upstairs and said hello to Jackie, who’d tried to get up and failed. Feeling at home already, Moira, Lisa and I had told him off and given him orders to get back into bed. He collapsed back into his sickbed, a little thankfully.

And so with the night drawn in, we’d got ourselves settled and enjoyed a great first night with our new host at a Parilla, only a few Km’s from the house, with Moira, Thommy and Marina, who’d battled to stay awake after a tough day at school.

The last few days have been a bit of a roller coaster.

We’ve already been made to feel at ease and so after checking with Moira and Jackie, we’d contacted Mariano (BMW Motorrad Argentina GM) and asked him for a few parts, mostly for the F650GS and given him the address here for delivery. As we’d expected many of the parts will have to be ordered from Germany. BMW Argentina unfortunately keep very little in stock. We’re not sure how long it will take but it’ll certainly be over two weeks, in which case we’ll ask Jackie to forward the kit on probably to Mendoza or Salta. In exchange for BMW’s help with the parts, we’ll run our presentation for Genco, the BMW dealer in Mendoza…should be fun.

For a change it was Lisa F650GS that needed a little attention; we’d been struggling with her chain and sprockets for a while, so replacing those was a no-brainer, she’d also lost on the Ruta 40 her chain tensioner’s on both the left and right sides and so like the time before in Mozambique her chain was being tensioned with some ingenious misuse of zip-ties. Both bikes were in real need of a service, especially since the last time in Rio Grande, when I changed the fluids etc, neither bike but especially Lisa’s hasn’t been happy. Most mornings we’ve been forced to jumpstart the F650 from my bike. The battery still seems good, but the engine seems to really struggle to turn over and fire. I’m hoping the cheap oil I put in is simply a crappy viscosity and holding back the engine.

So with all that in mind and with Jackie back in the land of the living we started work. Lisa’s single piece chain was a bitch to take off and finally only gave in after some careful but firm persuasion from Jackie’s heavy duty hammer. With Jackie tackling the F’s rear end (well he used to be a farmer) I was battling at the front, the bike wasn’t being difficult, but I was having a real job concentrating, my head was all over the place and I felt exhausted. It was like this was the first time I’d drained the oil from a bike, everything was just an effort, by late morning Jackie had done all he could and I was ready to give up.

With a little sightseeing done yesterday courtesy of Jackie, Moira and the family it was time to ride. Thommy had just turned 16, though with his 6ft 5” height you’d not guess it. Anyway, he’d received a birthday present most boys only dream of, a 250 off-road Honda. Needless to say he wanted to ride it 24/7 and so with Jackie on his trusty Yamaha Tenere and joined by Norman a good friend and ex-enduro rider we headed off into the hills to play. After 40 minutes we’d ridden a couple of small hills, played around a little and were now heading off to find what was to be our first river crossing…it didn’t happen. The soft wollowy feeling from the back end wasn’t good, that and the fact that I’d lost 2cm of ride height meant only one thing…shit! The last thing I needed was a flat tyre. It didn’t matter what ‘I needed’. The long slice wasn’t going to be plugged by the repair kit I was carrying. I was going to have to go back into town and tried to find someone with a heavy duty patch, and so with the back wheel whiped off we’d strapped it to Jackie’s bike, which I rode back to town. Norman had offered to join me, for which I was glad. I have no idea how long it would have taken me to find the repair shop.

Lady luck was about to shine. Back in Bariloche I’d followed Norman through the dusty back streets and into a small concrete compound and found ‘the tyre guy’, I’ve got no idea of his name…he was just the ‘tyre guy’? By pure chance a group of R1150 GS riders had been through weeks or months earlier, it may even have been Kevin & Julia Saunders and their last tour group, either way they’d replace their used Conti TKC80’s right here…and there they lay, collecting dust in the corner of the compound…just waiting for me. And so with that I’d agreed a price for a used TKC80, had that put on the rim and left my old tyre for a repair, which I’d planned to pick up a few days later. That didn’t happen but you’ll find out why soon enough.

With the new rubber on, we headed back out to find Jackie, Thommy and my bike where we’d left them. They’d settled in for the long haul and already had a glowing fire blazing. It was time to head back it was already getting dark. I sheepishly apologized for screwing up their afternoon.

The day had taken its toll, I felt exhausted. I figured it was that now I’d physically relaxed, now being at Moira’s and Jackie’s and without the normal daily dose of adrenalin, my fatigue from the last few cold weeks was now catching up on me. I now know differently.

The following morning I felt worse, nauseas and knackered but bizarrely by mid-day I’d made a recovery and although still tired was feeling pretty good.

Yesterday was sodding awful, I think I’ve the same bug that Jackie came down with when we arrived…great.

A couple days back I woke up with an intense fever and uncontrollable shakes. After getting up, downing some of the med’s from our medical pack I was feeling no better and headed back to bed. The following morning was worse. Intense vomiting and …yeah, all the other unpleasant stuff. The last time I’d felt like this was in Mendoza 3 months ago prior to getting my Malaria diagnosis. “What the hell is it this time”? I wondered in between bouts of uncontrollable shaking. There was no way I could eat any of the food Moira had kindly brought down.

The morning after is a vomit tinged haze. By mid morning I was burning up with fever and garbling nonsensical statements to Lisa. I knew it was coming…another hospital visit. God not again! The short 8 Km drive took an eternity. Wave after wave of nausea was hitting me, I just wanted it to end. It was taking every ounce of my will power just to fight my gag reflex, I was pretty sure that Jackie didn’t want the rear decoration of his pickup changed. I knew that sooner or later I’d have to give in…bloody hell, how far's this hospital.

That was it! I remember very little else. Apparently at the emergency room door I threw up violently and passed out. I remember parts of it and clearly recall being wheeled into an X-ray room and being told to stand. I remember thinking…”what do you mean fucking stand!!!...the wheel chair isn’t for show…if I could bloody stand I have walked in here…DDdduuuuuuuuhhhhh!”. OK, not my most eloquent of thoughts but it fitted the scenario perfectly.

I was already thinking about protesting about the need for X-rays…what’s the point, Lisa and I already knew what this was…again…Malaria. I just didn’t have the energy.

The medication the hospital had given me was only now, some two hours later, beginning to take effect. With my head clearing slowly, I was now also feeling guilty, Jackie and Moira had taken us and instead of enjoying one another’s company here they were playing ambulance with a sickly Brit.

By mid-evening a decision to admit me had been taken. I’d not wanted to stay in but then again the thought of being this ill back at Moira and Jackie’s was frightening. We had another problem; unlike the public hospital in Mendoza this one was private and the admission policy required a 3000 pesos deposit before approval of our insurance policy. Yeah right, like we keep that lying about us in cash. I was ill, feeling guilty, tired and generally pissed off. Moira and Jackie were being stars about the whole mess. With them acting as interpreters, Lisa finally found a solution to the problem an hour later.

With Jackie and Moira’s help we’d convinced my doctor to add the Malaria test onto the list of other things they’d routinely check for. Sure enough the following day my test came back positive. Again, like last time just knowing what was wrong was a relief. The med’s the hospital had been pumping me full of were taking effect and gradually my nausea and vomiting had reduced. Without waiting to identify my Malaria strain I was dosed up with a combination drug that would fight the normal Plasmodium Vivax strain as well as the more resistant strain. Wow…powerful stuff, the spinning head, wide awake nightmares and disorientation were all side effects. Shit this’ll either kill me or cure me!

With my improvement over the next day or so, I was released from hospital and with Moira and Lisa’s support I moved wobbly legs slowly and carefully down the hospital steps into the waiting pickup.

Now all I want to do is sleep.

Lisa writes: I just knew that the malaria had made a ‘come-back’ the moment Simon started to vomit and shake….but kept on hoping that we were both wrong. Once you’ve had it you never forget what it feels like. The last few days have been quite hard…but I don’t know what we would have done without Jackie and Moira’s help and staying with them. I feel like the last few months are now taking their toll and I am also beginning to feel quite worn out. Nope….its not malaria….just knackered. The worry over Simons plentiful hospital visits have got me down a bit and so I’m not ashamed in saying that I’m taking every pleasure in being looked after!! Thanks you so much Moira and Jackie!
Whilst Simon has been in hospital I spent most of the time with him but on the few odd occasions Moira and I were able to get out and about and…WOW..this is such a beautiful area.

By the night of the 20th even my appetite had returned a little and with Moira Jackie and the kids we enjoyed a relaxed eveing of good food and better company and celebrated our 3-year anniversary since leaving the UK. Wow, time flies.
It was great to be able to celebrate our 3 years with new friends and a bottle of bubbly!