I headed out of Bento Goncalves to meet my buddy, Eduardo, in a neighboring city after his business meeting. However, I received an early call telling me of car problems. So I set out to meet him and help however I could. But by the time I found him, the car had been loaded on truck, down the hill we went for Porto Alegre.
With a HUGE day coming I chose to stay in and get some rest at Ed's house. The next day I aimed to ride from Porto Alegre to the Uruguay border and as far down as I could.
I made it to the border after a few hundred KM of beautiful, lush countryside of cows, rolling hills and tranquil bodies of water.
I decided to stop in a town called Minas, UY as the sun was setting and I was getting tired. This quaint colonial town was a pleasant surprise! Narrow streets and colorful antique buildings. Everyone was out in the square for the afternoon mate drinking as I found my hotel. I am always intrigued by these very small, but beautiful town that seem so insulated yet full of character and true identity. I set out to get some dinner and a beer, but must have gone out too early because I was alone in the restaurant. I tried to hang in and stay up the check the local bar scene, considering it was Friday night, but after a long day of nearly 700 km my eyes were lead.
Leaving the next morning I past these most vivid flowers and snapped a few shots.
I met two of these guys in Mendoza a few months before and randomly saw them again at this gas station in Colonia del Sacramento, UY. They were heading across from Buenos Aires and heading north and eventually back to the US. They had a good trip other than the brutal attack they unfortunately received at a soccer game just days before in BA. Black eyes and broken ribs never a comfortable ride.
The Indian in my buddy's garage that was to share a space with my Vstrom.
When you finishing drinking mate, don't say "gracias" unless you do not care for anymore. It wont get passed to you again if you you do.
I was connected with a fellow moto rider in Colonia, UY just across the water from Buenos Aires, who offered to store my bike for a while. It was all a good plan, but I later found out I got the wrong papers when I entered into Uruguay...