Boring desert road, but easy going. Slow. Too slow. I drop back and catch up - It's much more comfortable at 100kph than 70kph. A bit windy from the west, but that's normal.
At one point we see guanaco, horses, a fox and some funny ostrich-like things that run away at the sight of us, and just keep running and running. They're known as rhea.
We're in Santa Cruz provence. It's about 1000km by 600km (at a guess). That's twice the size of Britain and it has a population of 200,000. About 150,000 of those live in the half dozen or so 'big' towns. That leaves the rest of the place pretty bloody empty. Encountering other vehicles is a big deal and people slow down and wave to each other.
Lunch is a picnic again - a ham and cheese sandwich. No wine, no dead cow.
This afternoon we close in on Fitz Roy and his mates - a big mountain, some other mountains, big glaciers, lots of snow and ice. All a bit odd after two and a half days of glorified semi-desert (pampas, actually).
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