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‘No plan survives first contact with the enemy’


Instagram - Yeah.jpg.jpg.jpgtotally started getting bored of the original Plan A

Planning a motorbike trip is always a double-edged sword - if the point of travelling by bike is to take advantage of unforeseen opportunities, then how can you plan it?


In seeking a spot of escapism during a somewhat prolonged 3 month work notice period, I set about (and enjoyed) planning this trip in detail.


By Saturday evening, I’d reached the north-eastern tip of Argentina to see the phenomenal Iguazu Falls. As planned.


I’d focussed on staying mainly in youth hostels and tried coach-surfing, because I wanted to meet other people who were also travelling. As planned.


From there, I planned to go to Rio to see the world famous carnival. But whilst doing that, something that brought me back to my last conversation with my good friend VP before I left London two and half weeks ago…


“It’ll be a great chance to have some holiday, to have some time out”, she said.


“Holiday?! This isn’t a holiday, this is an ADVENTURE” was my indignant reply.


Here’s the thing. Despite all the prep I’ve done for this trip, on Monday it only really hit me what it needed to REALLY get going, up to a Spinal Tap-esque level 11 on the volume scale.


For me, it’s the difference between picking out the places that Lonely Planet recommend and ticking them off, and putting your finger on a map and saying ‘Today, I’m going THERE, and I’m gonna see whatever comes my way’.


Because unless you’re not careful, it’s possible to end up not really thinking or experiencing something for yourself - you’re just looking at what someone else thinks is worth looking at, and setting your expectations in line with that. That’s not taking advantage of the opportunities that travelling by motorbike can bring.


To put it another way, imagine your favourite panorama for a moment - the kind that you could spend hours looking at, come day or night, come sunshine or rain.


What if you then look at that view and say “Right. I’m going to go THROUGH that.” And when you do, another view opens up in front you, just as awesome. So you do the same again, and again - at pace.


South-Western Brazil is probably not known as one of the world’s great vistas, but it is the kind of territory where you can do just that - as far as you can see, it’s a huge, vast landscape of rolling hills, soya fields, forests, rivers, dirt tracks, grazing cattle, slightly mental looking trees, dusty roads, huge trucks whose draft almost chucks you off the bike whilst throwing up fields of grit 50 ft behind them, choking diesel fumes, scorching sun and epic, epic views, all of which leave you at the end of the day saddle-sore, sunburnt, knackered, absolutely covered in filth but feeling pretty damn good….despite the fact you then need to strip the bike apart to find some mysterious electrical fault that leaves you with no indicators or a horn.


Call me a hopeless romantic, but THAT is what an adventure is all about.


You can’t really plan for that. You’ve just got to put yourself in the best possible position to let it happen. That’s something which I learnt on previous trips, but I’d forgotten in the run-up to this one. I let other things, like the fear of being lonely or not knowing enough about where I was going get in the way. Balls to that.


I’m now headed towards the Bolivian border, which I’ll probably make at the start of next week.


Rio and the Carnival can wait. The prospect of crossing the Gran Chaco to reach the Andes is where it’s at.


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