The Outskirts of the Capital

As it was Friday night, we toyed with our camping options. This didn’t take very long as there weren’t that many of them. We knew our friends had tried the paid campsite and told us that despite its high price tag, it was noisy and dirty. In light of this, we decided to risk a free option. This was another disused train station in the small village of Torres. We didn’t have the quietest night admittedly, with the local youth using the old station as their hangout, but we decided to stay another night regardless. The main reason for this was that despite the fact the old station was locked up, the electricity was still on. I spent the day installing our new charger in the hopes that we could then plug in and pull our batteries back up.

Our old charger had been a waterproof type located in the engine bay, whereas the new one was not. Therefore it needed to be installed inside the vehicle and I rejigged a few things to fit it just inside the rear door. The next problem was then reaching the outlet. We had several extension leads but even joined together they weren’t long enough and we couldn’t move any closer as the train tracks were in the way.

Lee noticed another electrical point on the other side of the car park and so we drove over there instead. It was closer to the road, but if we got power that would be worth it. It was now dusk and dew had already settled on the ground in the dying light. We joined all our cables together and just got them to reach the box. We plugged it in. There was a flash of light and one of our extension leads caught fire right there on the ground in front of us. It seemed that the wire had frayed and shorted out. Now the power didn’t work at all. Not only had we broken their electrics, but I panicked that we’d fried our brand new charger on the first attempt. Luckily for us though, it had just blown the fuse in the adapter we used. The train station’s electrics were another matter though… we hid away our cables and resigned ourselves to another loud night as the local teenagers arrived. It was almost a bit too much when they plugged their boombox into the working sockets on the opposite side and by 5am, I was truly sick of it. The next day we had to leave.

We had heard on social media that we happened to be nearby for the annual VW meet-up in Buenos Aires. It’s not often you get to drive through the streets as part of a huge classic car convoy and so we had decided we’d head back into the capital to take part. It wasn’t for another four nights though, so we needed to find something suitable in the meantime. The free train station would no doubt be better in the week, but after countless cloudy days and little driving, we needed to find some power.

We headed towards Luján, hoping to find a cheap campground there. The first choice was way too close to the road for our liking and so we headed to the next option. This turned out to be ridiculously expensive but at this point, we had little choice. We decided we’d make the most of the facilities and stay one night. We pulled up on the bank of the river which looked like it had recently been devastated by storms. Huge piles of driftwood and bare mud banks surrounded us. It wasn’t the most picturesque, but right next to us was a power socket. Finally, we hooked up and started to charge. I was so relieved that not only were the batteries charging, but that we also hadn’t damaged our charger.

That evening, some locals camped near us and used the nearest grill before inevitably inviting us over. They drank fernet and cola straight out of a 3L cooler while insisting we ate some meat. They told us that they owned a local butcher’s and were very happy to share their food with us. We sat around eating and drinking until the coals died out and they headed back home.

The next day, we were packed and ready to go. Then Ruby wouldn’t start. No matter what we did, she wouldn’t turn over. We were forced to go and pay for another night. The only good thing was that it was a different person on reception and for no particular reason, they charged us half the price. At this much more reasonable rate, we weren’t as upset. We made the most of the campsite, filling up the water tanks, getting Ruby turned on and rounding it all off with a very nice hot shower. The next morning, we were happy to leave.

We now only had two nights to kill and so we thought we’d head back to Carlos Keen. Not only did they have power sockets there, but it had been incredibly quiet the last time we’d passed through. As the market wasn’t there during the week, we parked up in the car park. We could use the power sockets there as well as the water. For free, what more could you want?

The town itself is a sleepy little village during the week. Much of it is shut. It lives for the weekend market alone. We wandered down the grassy train tracks to find the “Cactus Garden” and Mishi Keen. Mishi is the Latin American term for kitty. Here, if you want to call a cat, you don’t say “Here puss puss!”, it’s “mish mish”. Mishi Keen is apparently a long-term resident and if he comes and lets you pet him it’s supposed to bring good luck. I’ll take all the good luck I can get, especially if it involves petting a cat. To guarantee our good fortune, I even brought cat treats.

After our little wander down the tracks, we checked out the rest of the town. It didn’t take long. We bought some nice bread and a few vegetables before heading back to Ruby. In the car park where we were staying, which housed the market at weekends, someone was already setting up a stall. We weren’t sure what that meant as it was only a Wednesday night. I suppose common sense should have prevailed, but it wasn’t until we awoke to the noise of tents being erected all around us bright and early the following morning that we realised the market was there two days sooner than we expected. We rapidly packed up as an agitated stallholder tried to erect his marquee practically on top of us. It was time to head back into the city for our VW event anyway.

While it felt like we were already just on the outskirts of the city, it still took a while to get there through the sprawling suburbs. Conveniently for us, the meeting point for the event was at the planetarium where we had previously parked. As we had been booted out of our spot rather earlier than we’d chosen, we had some time to kill there. Time, it seemed, for Lee to watch the football and have one beer too many. It appeared I was designated driver.

As the sun set, a few other VWs appeared. Progressively the crowd grew until we decided that we should move around and join in. At the moment, with our odd starting issue, it wasn’t possible to simply turn the key. It also appeared that our main battery had now gone completely flat. To go anywhere we needed to lift the back and jump-start ourselves off the house batteries. This is really a two-person job, as lifting the weight of both bikes and trying to turn the kill switch at the same time is not easy. The whole thing was possible, but not ideal if you happened to stall somewhere. Hopefully I wouldn’t embarrass us.

As we lined up with the continually expanding crowd, we got the usual attention. Our overladen, beaten-up Kombi was clearly a working vehicle compared to some of the beautiful show buses present there. There were several Kombis too, but even more Beetles. We met the organiser of the event and mingled in general. We received several stickers from various people and someone gave us a bag of raisins, I’m not sure why. Then some unknown signal passed down the line and around us everyone began to fire up their engines. We performed our engine-starting manoeuvre, ready to go too.

The event basically consisted of driving through the brightly lit streets of the city, past some notable landmarks, before ending up at some kind of bar. We had been handed a list of the streets we’d be driving down in case we got lost, but honestly to try and locate them all and plan a route would have taken us ages. I just hoped to follow the masses and not get separated. Lee was very excited and fairly useless after polishing off most of the remaining alcohol. I was concentrating on not getting left behind, not stalling and not hitting anyone in the melee that followed.

Unfortunately, all that means we have very little in the way of photos from the event. It was definitely an experience to drive through the streets in a swarm of classic Beetles. Somehow though, it felt a bit anticlimactic when we all ended up at a fast-food joint on the side of the river. We didn’t really feel like eating there and so we grabbed some street food outside and then sat on one of the outdoor tables as we weren’t buying food inside. Most other people stayed indoors, but we chatted with a few people as they came and went. By the end of the night, it was getting towards the early hours of the morning and we needed somewhere to sleep.

We had ended up in a part of the city that used to be a popular overnight spot. As of this year though, they had introduced paid parking and therefore it was less popular. It wasn’t particularly expensive, but we felt that not only would it probably not be the quietest night, the road was also steeply cambered and parking level wouldn’t be easy either. We decided to drive around to a spot that was apparently popular with truckers. It was a bit of a scummy area but all we wanted to do was sleep and so we pulled up amongst the lines of trucks and fell into bed.