ON THE CARRETERA AGAIN
(Buenos Aires to San Martin de los Andes, to Villa La Angostura, to Bariloche, to some places nearby, to Refugio Frey, to El Bolson, to Lago Puelo)
After our three week run in Buenos Aires, we were beginning to forget that we were "travelling." We were thus shocked -- shocked, I tell you -- to find ourselves on a bus heading out of town and towards the Lake District of Argentina. Some call it Patagonia, some call it the Andes. All agree that it's really far away.
A mere 20 hours of driving later, we pulled up in
San Martin de los Andes. San Martin is a lovely little town of a town, an alpine style retreat on the shores of a placid Lago Lacar, full of shops and restaurants that open for 2 months during summer high season and 2 months again during winter high season. For better or for worse, we arrived a few weeks before the summer rush. Things are a bit cheaper in the off-season, but, then again, there are fewer things to do. We spent our one full day in the town hiking to Mirador Bandurrias, which is right up there as one-of-the-most-beautiful-views-you'll-ever-dream-of. We also saw some reaaaaally big bulls.
Next up: rental car #2. Ruta de los Siete Lagos. It's the Blue Ridge Parkway died and gone to heaven. You drive south from San Martin past, shockingly, 7 lakes. Snow-capped peaks, bright yellow and purple flowers, perfect weather. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.
Just in case the picture of the truck doesn't speak for itself, we can't help you either. The woman said there was a tow truck on the way. That's all we know.
From there, into Bariloche. Thus began our love-hate relationship with Hostal Patanuk. Love because it's awesome, and the dorm room has a lake front view, and because they bake fresh bread for breakfast every morning, and because they have lots of helpful info. Hate, because there's a club downstairs, and because they may or may not have bedbugs. Ah well. First night in town, we managed to meet up with friends Ana and Nacho (Ignacio --> Nacho) for a lovely bit of grilled meat and some weird berry liquor, for which Nacho has since apologized.
Big events for us in the Bariloche area: we used
our legs, for a change. As a result of some rotten information from the tourist info office, we hiked straight up the face of Cerro Otto. There was no trail. I don't care what you've heard. There is no trail. There is only some sand and brush. But screw you, mountain, we climbed anyway. We then opted for the 9km walk back down the road into town. Telefericos are for pansies.Thinking our legs would get a break if we only
made them go in short circles, we rented bikes to do the Circuito Chico. Not sure if we're just weak or if everyone here just lies all the time, but there is nothing chico about this cirquito. It is, on the contrary, quite grande. At least it was absurdly pretty.
But wait, there's more. An organized day tour to Pampa Linda and the glaciers on Mt. Tronador. Very cool drive up the narrow one-lane road, followed by some hiking to wait to see a bunch of really big compacted snow and ice slowly falling off of a giant cliff on the top of an enormous mountain. It ain't something you see every day. We were lucky enough at the Ventisquero Negro to witness some chunks of ice separating themselves from the glacier, creating one of the more massive reverberation/ machine-gun sounds you could imagine. The Castaño Overo glacier was a bit more timid that day, and we didn't actually catch it in action. Our guide, Matías, deserves some sort of prize for being knowledgeable and friendly. He's in the platinum category of guides we've had on this trip.Finalmente, the big adventure. A big hike up
from Catedral to Refugio Frey, a classic mountaintop lodge that offers a place to sleep, a kitchen, and, somehow, beer on tap. We hiked for hours through a former forest -- now a burnt forest -- then uphill across a hobbit bridge, past a hobbit house, across several hobbit-sized streams, then up into the snow until we reached our resting place. It being summer down in these parts of the world, the sun does not set until 9:30pm or so, which is very weird considering the horizontal ice storm that raged outside. We were safe and sound inside our refugio, and quite warm inside our silk sleeping bag liners. The next morning, the weather was not cooperating (i.e., intermittent snow, cut by periods of harsh sunshine), and the hike back down ranged from freezing cold to burning hot. Still, no complaints. Life gets worse.
We then passed several more-than-relaxing days at Los Troncos, a pristine and brand new hotel
with some hostel rooms. It also has one of the more beautiful kitchens you could imagine. We cooked a lot, making friends in the process with a horde of old ladies in town for a meditation retreat. They also accepted our leftover risotto. When we weren't taking advantage of the phenomenally-fast internet connection, we occasionally left the hotel to steal free chocolate samples from one of the 25 chocolate shops in town. We also sampled some locally brewed beer. It definitely tasted like beer, but there's a reason you've never heard of Bariloche beer.
Despues de Bariloche, we headed south again -- and for the last time on our southerly adventure -- to El Bolson. The Bolson is, for whatever combination of reasons, a bit of a let down. We do some nice hikes, we climb to see the insensitively-named Cabeza del Indio, we visit Lago Puelo national park, we eat some ice cream, we kindle the Hanukah lights, etc. etc.
But with the weather not entirely in our favor, we are stuck inside for a couple of days when we could have been up on top of a mountain somewhere. Victoria becomes totally absorbed in Stieg Larrson's The Girl Who Played With Her Dragon Tatoo, and Joseph takes the opportunity
to finally finish Harry Potter y la Piedra Filosofal. Let's just say that, under these conditions, you can do most of what The Bolson has to offer in 5 full days.
When we board our Via Bariloche bus on Friday for the 22-hour cruise back to BA, we are quite thrilled. Plus, they show Invictus on the bus. But Morgan Freeman as Mandela? Really? I thought that we, as a society, would never go there.----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 91 - Mon 11.22.2010 THE AGE OLD QUESTION: GEMELAS OR MELLIZAS? ANSWER: IT DOESN'T MATTER, THEY'RE JUST CUTE.
(Buenos Aires to Arrecifes, and back)
ROADTRIP! ... to visit Victoria's cousin Johanna and hubby Genaro, who recently became parents of two beautiful twin girls. Joined by friends Irene (driver), Alec (shotgun), and Ale (hogs the leg room), we drove through pampa after pampa, until we thought we'd run out of pampas. Then you turn left, and you're in Arrecifes. Horses are big business in Arrecifes. Genaro raises them for a living, Johanna keeps them from being sick for a living.
We have some excellent pictures from the days activities -- everyone taking turns holding the babies, a nice family lunch in their rustic dining room, and the ceremonial planting of a lemon tree, our gift to the baby girls. But, unfortunately, Ale has the pictures on his computer, and is too much of a lazy bum to figure out how to convert raw images into a jpeg format. Ale's email address is vjspur@yahoo.com. If you'd like to see our pictures, bug him about it.
Speaking of this good-for-nothing nobody friend, Ale graciously gave us his bedroom for these 2 nights during our brief "homeless" period. We thoroughly enjoyed the hospitality, the homemade milanesa, the free laundry service, and the 4-hour perusal of the high school choir and band trip photo albums. We would also like to apologize to Ale's grandmother, who appeared deeply hurt that we did not sit down and eat a full plate of the chicken she made.
