Panagea, Tacuarembó Chico Uruguay 26-27 March, 2009

We had two more nights at the estancia before we left for Brazil (we had to leave at some stage …). The horses we took on the trek were still on their way back and we drove to see where the gaucho had got to. We found him just past where we set up camp on the first night. He was riding Gatiarda (we weren’t sure why as he had two horses of his own) and he tried to tell Juan that she was a biter! Euan can confirm that while Gatiarda may be an airhead, a biter she definitely is not! Anyhow, we stopped off at a gaucho bar for a beer and waited for him to arrive with the horses for the night.



Outside the bar, a calf was tied up in the back of a ute



and another gaucho had stopped in for a drink. His mare had foaled and when he left the foal just trotted along behind its Mum.



The owner’s grandson brought out his computer to show us. Every schoolchild in Uruguay is issued one of these laptops that is bar coded and linked to their name (to avoid stealing). We were quite amazed as while many homes in Uruguay are without power, all children have these laptops, the batteries of which can be charged by a windup handle. Uruguay has one of the highest literacy rates in Latin America, with something like 97%..



Friday was our last day on the estancia and luckily it was a lovely day and there was loads planned so we were able to provide some help. We’d not had much sleep…. Euan had mentioned he had some pain from what looked like a spot but on closer examination I could see things moving…. Not pretty and nor was it pleasant so after freaking out for a few minutes, I spent 2 ½ hours pulling wriggling maggots out of a very small hole in Euans leg by blinking (the torch had been in one of the bags that got bashed around by one of the horses on the trek) torchlight. It wasn’t easy to get them out and thankfully I’d remembered something Euans Mum told me from when they lived in Nigeria, about preventing the things from breathing and forcing them to come up for air. So, after covering the wound with Vaseline I grabbed the little b*stards one by one as they stuck their heads out for air. There were 11 in total and, understandably, we were both a bit grossed out – me because I could see them and Euan because they were in him!! We still don’t know what they were, Juan was bemused and had never seen it before but I blame those little crawly lice-looking things that we came across on day one of the trek.

Thankfully we were busy enough to think about other things as we were bringing calves in to be weaned, tagged and branded and injected. It was a big day for them and the noise was unbelievable as all the calves were separated from their mums for at least a few hours (and some separated for good).

This is one of the Brangus bulls that are used on the estancia and this one is particularly striking because of his tiger pattern – in the sun his coat looked like tigers eye. A very impressive animal, both in looks and stature.



In the yards a fire was built to heat the branding irons



and the action began.



On one side of the race Bilinga grabbed the tail to hold the calf firmly against the race wall



while Juan did the damage with the iron.



and the end result was pretty clear!



We were really sorry to be leaving but said farewell to Bilinga and saw the horses safely arrive from their journey with the gaucho. Euan took a liking to the gauchos skewbald horse and Juan asked him how much for his horse but I don’t think the gaucho realised he had a serious buyer and just mumbled some response.

We were catching a lift with Juan to Florianópolis, about 1000km away, where he was going on holiday to visit some friends. We were very grateful for the lift as it saved us time, money and hassle as the bus route is not direct. Alison was coming too as were two Swiss girls, friends of Suzanne’s family so it was going to be a proper road trip. Juan had (in the typical blunt fashion that we enjoyed) warned us that he was not going to entertain us and did not speak while driving…..

While I’m on this topic, I’ve not been entertained so well in a long time (well, since we left Sander and Marije I guess) as I was when hearing Juan talk to the big group from Intrepid when they arrived at the estancia. He told them that he was not a psychiatrist and that any problems with the horses will be caused by us (so true!) – the horses have been riding their whole lives and some people only riding one day, so it is not a problem with the horse. On the food; “if you don’t like our food, don’t eat it. Don’t eat it on day one, don’t eat it on day two and by day three you will love our food”. On people having a crisis; “people have crisis’. Some people have crisis with capital C. I am not a therapist and I cannot do anything about these crises. I am looking out for accidents and looking to fix broken bones and broken hearts”. On complaints; “ if you have a crisis, see your tour guide. If you have complaints, see Suzanne”. I was nearly in stitches. Very very entertaining and all said with a dead pan face.

Horse trek, Chico Tacuarembó to Laureles, Uruguay 23-26 March 2009

The horse trek was something that Juan and Marleen had planned for a while but the route, the time it would take, where we would camp for the nights etc, how many horses we would take etc etc was unknown until the morning we set off. I don’t think even numbers were finalised until the night before and it turned out that there would be nine of us in total; Euan and I, Juan; Sol - his niece/God daughter; Bert - a friend of Juan’s from Belgium; Mick and Tory - the Australian couple; Alison - a friend of Juan’s cousin and Marleen, who has been at the estancia helping out for a few months.

The night before we set off we realised we needed more horses so while Juan went to town to collect Bert, we went to get six other horses that were out resting in another huge paddock. Herding horses is very different to herding cattle or sheep and while six were fine and didn’t give us much trouble, once they got with the other 15 or so they all had a different agenda and gave us the run around. Trying to bring in 22 horses that have other ideas is incredibly frustrating so we herded those that we could into a smaller paddock and left the others for the morning.

It was a misty start and we were learning about packing horses as we went….. something that became rather evident only 2km into the trek!



We took 15 horses in total and I’d chosen to ride Kaiser and have Linyera as my packhorse. Euan had chosen Babieka to ride and Gatiada (on the right in the photo) as a pack horse – both sensible choices as it turned out.



Most of us were leading a horse but only about 100m from the yards someone’s bag slipped around… this was to become a common occurrence over the course of the day!



About 5km down the road we realised we were missing a few people and horses so stopped to wait and adjust the loads.



As it turned out, three of the pack horses had been turned loose and were being herded along the road but one of the bags had slipped around on one of the horses and had moved right back to its flanks prompting a mini rodeo, with the horse going absolutely nuts, bucking, kicking and galloping around until the bag broke free. While this was going on, Mick’s horse had also gone a bit nuts and reared backwards and then fallen over sideways with Mick still aboard and he’d banged his head on a rock. No real injuries aside from a large lump on Mick’s head, a sore knee where the horse had landed on it and the pack horse had a few scrapes. The main casualty was the luggage…. we lost all our coffee and sugar (it was spread all over the road), a few vegetables had been squashed and a carton of tomato juice had split and gone all through Tory’s luggage. Alison, Euan and I, nattering away up front, were oblivious to all this hoo-hah going on behind. Mick gave up on trying to pack a second horse and just carried the bag himself.



We stopped off at a school and all piled into the single classroom to say hello to the teacher and kids.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

The kids all wear a uniform over their day-to-day clothes and Juan told us that it was to ensure that, at school, there was no way of telling the background the children came from by their clothes.


Photo: Alison Duffy

While we were inside, the horses grazed and, I have to admit, I was slightly nervous that they’d all head for home (only about 10km away) and I reckon the pack horses were seriously considering it after the earlier crisis (a word often used by Juan when describing groups on horses and, after hearing some of the stories, its use is fully justified!!).

This is Sol, Juan’s God daughter and niece on Falada. Sol is 15, a real character and was great fun to have with us.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

Alison with Bayo and a few of the pack horses. The countryside changed dramatically in the first few hours and as we got higher, the grass got thinner and was replaced by scrubby bushes and rocks.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

This is the first gaucho bar we passed but it was closed unfortunately.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

It was super hot and our lunch stop was most welcome. We unpacked and unsaddled the horses headed for a pool of water (where there were leeches as it turned out) and we headed for the trees where there were small insects that crawled over us with purpose or so it seemed. They looked like lice but had wings and did not seem to want to bite but still, they seemed to crawl with creepy intent and didn't squash easily. They creeped Alison and I right out so we spent most of the time trying to squash them and get them off us but no one else seemed particularly perturbed.

Judging from the smile, Euan had either enjoyed lunch or was pleased with the horses!



Gatiarda had proven to be a really good pack horse


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

and, when the bags had slid around under her belly had swung her ears back and forth and stopped dead. A very sensible horse but I did think it helped that we were leading both our packhorses. I was more comfortable, at that stage feeling that we had more control although I was to be proved wrong the following day!


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

Linyera had also proven to be a good choice and happily stuck with Kaiser and I without veering off to follow every other horses tail that passed us. It meant I could hold the lead rope under my leg and have my hands free.




Photo: Alison Duffy

We passed many gauchos, some herding stock and others just on their way somewhere. This is Juan talking to one of the gauchos we met en route.


Photo: Alison Duffy

We stopped at a gaucho bar mid afternoon, tied the horses to the fence and had a beer. I don’t think a beer has ever tasted so good as the day had got hotter and hotter as it went on. Euan and I were lagging behind as the two bags strapped to Gatiarda just kept slipping round. The main cause was that the girth was just too big for Gatiarda and couldn’t be tightened enough.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

We camped that night by a small stream on the edge of a forest and the sun had already gone down by the time we got there. All the horse gear was hung on the fence and the horses loosely hobbled so they wouldn’t wander (or so we thought). Marleen cooked us an excellent meal over a fire and we settled in for the night.



More mist in the morning and only six horses were to be found. Late the night before they’d started to go walkabout, and hobbles had been redone and one of the wanderers was tied to the fence but it hadn’t been enough to keep them all around. I’d heard horses hooves that morning and wished I’d got up as Bert said we were visited by a herd of wild horses who had come thundering over to see us.

Juan saddled one of the faithful horses that had hung around and headed out to look for the others.



He was gone for a while and Sol kept lookout until she saw them coming down the road.



Everyone who had two horses had switched, riding the one that was a pack horse the day before and both Euan and I found out that the horses we had were definitely suited for particular tasks. Babieca was great to ride but awful as a pack horse and he described Gatiarda, while still very pretty, as an ‘airhead’. He said that, when he was walking giving her a break, they had come across a stallion on the other side of the fence they were walking along. He said prior to that, Gatiarda was happily following right behind him but when they came across the stallion, her head suddenly appeared at his shoulder, putting Euan between her and the stallion and shielding the stallion from her view.



Meanwhile Babieca wasn’t well suited as a pack horse and, when the bags invariably slipped around, she went ballistic, set Gatiarda off as well and there was no way Euan could control both and had to let Babieca go. I was behind and Babieca came roaring towards me, bucking and kicking all over the show. She didn’t stop until the rope broke and she had got rid of the bags, dented the pot and fry pan way out of shape, smashed the cucumbers, apples, sweet potato and scattered stuff everywhere. Unfortunately the last thing going through my mind when there is a horse giving an impromptu rodeo performance is to whip out my camera and take photos. All energy and focus went on trying to calm the horse down enough to catch it and hopefully minimise damage. We always caught the horse but unfortunately damage wasn’t always avoided. I should however, have taken photos of our gear after the event – the ripped bags, smashed veges and pots dinged and dented. Live horsepower does scary damage when let loose.

Euan got so fed up with retying the bags all the time and after the last incident, decided to carry his bag himself and leave Babieca unloaded.



While my luggage had stayed put, Kaiser wasn’t a patch on Linyera as a pack horse. He solidly followed every tail that passed him and there were many as he was the most sluggish pack horse around. I thought he’d be rather silly and scatty but he was completely the opposite and needed constant encouragement and motivation to keep up!

We were out of water so stopped at another bar (too early for beer apparently dammit)

to check maps, get water and buy some coffee and sugar.



Our lunch stop was by a river so after we’d dealt with the horses


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

we bathed in the river, then lunch then a siesta (this is Bert, dead to the world)


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

before packing up, loading up and getting on our way again.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

Bert looked like a cross between a hippie and an Arab, a result of having lost his hat (he left it on a fence post somewhere along the way) and wrapping his t-shirt around his head and wearing socks and sandals after being his riding boots had caused blisters. He made us laugh, what with looking like that but also going up to the wrong horse and saying “hey Tara, ready to go?” or something along those lines. I’d have to tell him “Bert, you’ve got the wrong horse” only for him to say “are you sure?”.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

Bert looked absolutely classic on a horse and completely the opposite of the other gauchos we passed


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque



(not that Euan and I were doing any better in our matching Namibia quad biking t-shirts….. a grave error on our part!).


Photo: Alison Duffy

We were all hanging out for a bar that afternoon but we didn’t come across one at all much to everyone’s bitter disappointment.….. I think it was the only thing keeping Euan going but he had worked out a way of drinking water without having to unpack it from the horse…



We camped by another river but on a busier road this time so we had a few vehicles pass us and a few stopped to ask directions. It wasn’t until later that we realised we’d covered the road sign with saddle blankets…. Whoops!


Photo: Alison Duffy

Alison and I snuck a sneaky photo in before unsaddling



and setting up camp.



This time the horses seemed content to graze around the camp rather than wander off



although they weren’t even given the chance as, after dinner, Juan decided they would all be tied to the fence. All was well for a few hours until a few of them got tangled and then all we heard was the awful twanging of wires and the nervous snorting of Kaiser. We untangled those that had got their legs wound up but Kaiser, spooky at the best of times, had his front leg well and truly caught. There wasn’t a lot I could do as the tension on the rope was too much and he reared up, lunged forward and stuck his front leg (still wound in the rope) through the fence. Great. Just great. One big solid spooked horse in the dark. I managed to get the rope off him but he had to get himself out of the fence himself. He reared up again and went backwards and nearly got his leg out but the soft bulbous part of his hoof stuck on the wire and he just continued to pull and he came so close to ripping it off but, with another big twang, the wire gave a little and his hoof came free. Juan, who just calmly takes things as they come, walked past and said “all under control?”.... thankfully I could answer "yes".

I didn’t sleep much as every time one of the horses got a fright and pulled back, the fence went twang twang twang and all I could hear was the stomping of horses’ hooves as they nervously shuffled around. I know I wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep well and I suspect the horses didn’t sleep much either (some were still dozing just before we set off) but at least we still had 15 horses with us in the morning!



Euans telling Gatiarda (who isn’t listening) where to put her head…



We set off the next morning later than we’d have liked to and, for the first time, I’d stopped leading the pack horse with my gear. I gave up on Kaiser as he was just so slow and also had a swollen tendon, a result of the fence tangle or the hobbling, so I suspected he wouldn’t be up to any antics anyhow.



I seemed spent a lot of time like this, turning round to talk or watch what was going on behind me


Photo: Alison Duffy

It might sound silly to mention the rocks but when you’re on a horse time goes slowly and you notice a whole lot more about the landscape around you. I noticed that the rocks were unusual and, where they’d shattered, there were crystals and interesting layers. There were quite a few rocks like this that were strewn along the roadside, really pretty.



We had a few more incidents of bags swinging round and horses going nuts but Mick was now a gun on the knots and the incidents were getting fewer and further between. We were nearly there but a few map stops were necessary (this is Alison, Juan and Bert).



and of course water stops for the horses.



On the third day we made it to Laureles


Photo: Alison Duffy

and rode into town just before lunchtime.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

We stopped off in the local pub for a celebratory drink (Bert had resorted to carrying his own gear too..)



before taking a group photograph (L to R is Marleen, Tory, Euan, Kate, Sol, Juan, Alison, Mick and Bert)


Photo: Alison Duffy

This gaucho had been passing by while we were in the pub and within about 10 minutes Juan had negotiated for him to take the horses back to the estancia. It was a good lesson for us in how things are done here – I don’t think Juan knew this chap but a deal was done on the spot and the horses would overnight at this chaps sisters place just up the road. The gaucho would herd the horses back in about two days, spending overnight at someone’s place on the way. Apparently its customary to have gauchos and whatever animals they are herding to stay overnight and no one ever refuses.



A few of us rode with the horses back to this gauchos sisters place


Photo: Alison Duffy

where they were let loose in a paddock for the night and immediately clustered around the water hole.



The gear (and us) was loaded unceremoniously into the truck (Suzanne had come to meet us and pick us up) and we drove back to pick up the others who were left behind in Laureles.

I don’t quite know how we got 12 people plus all our gear in the saddlebags, nine saddles and other assorted gear for 15 horses into this small truck that officially seats six people... but we did! Micks on the ropes again...



and we drove some 30km to a posada near the small city of Tranqueras where we were spent the night. Unfortunately Sol had to go back to school so wasn’t able to spend the night at the posada with us and I don’t think she was very happy about it either as her usually bright face held no trace of a smile


Photo: Alison Duffy

and we dropped her off on the main road to catch a bus back to Tacuarembó.


Photo: Juan Manuel Luque

What we did over the last three days was right up my alley and I would have happily turned around and done it again straight away. In fact, I was a bit disappointed to hear that the gaucho was taking the horses back as originally Juan was going to take them back and Euan and I were going to join him. Just quietly though, I wasn’t sure that Euan would have wanted to turn around and do the whole ride again backwards…. Me on the other hand, well, I was already there!!