Cabo Polonio has no road. You leave the pavement of Ruta 10 at the park gate, park the bike, and either walk across the dunes or climb into a big four-wheel-drive truck for the ride across the sand, because vehicles of any ordinary kind are not allowed in. It is a small settlement of ramshackle houses perched on a rocky cape, with no mains electricity or running water, lit by candles, lanterns and a few solar panels, and it has a gloriously end-of-the-world feel. The sunsets here are said to be among the best in South America.
The cape juts into the Atlantic, with a lighthouse built in 1881 and a vast sea lion colony on the rocks beside it, thousands of animals barking, squabbling and basking. It is one of the largest in the region. Beyond the headland, the dunes stretch for miles, shifting with the wind, and the long beaches are empty of anything but the sound of surf. The place has a long history of shipwrecks and, in the past, of smugglers and sealers, and it has since become a favourite for artists, hippies and travellers.
For a motorcyclist, the practicalities are simple but important. Castillos, about twenty-four kilometres away, is the nearest town of any size, with fuel, shops and a few places to eat, and the road from there to the park entrance is generally good. The sandy access track is closed to private vehicles, so you leave the bike at the car park and take the truck, which is part of the adventure. Check locally for weather and tides, because high seas can close beach routes.
Come with cash, a headlamp and warm clothes, since there are few places to charge or spend a card, and the nights can be cold even in summer. In January the settlement is packed with holidaymakers, and in winter it is almost empty. The nearby Santa Teresa National Park and the Laguna de Castillos offer woods, wetlands and birdlife, and are worth an extra day. Take your time, sleep to the sound of the sea, and walk the dunes at dawn.