My New Habit of Closing Down Bars

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I finally made my escape from Chile. Chile didn't make it easy though. Throughout my time there I ran into Easter weekend, infrequent bus schedules, and a tourist season that was winding down. But I also came across great scenery, wonderful people, and a few cool new experiences to add to the list. I'd say overall I'm just disappointed I didn't have more time to spend in Chile, exploring the Careterra Austral. And there's a lot more Chile I didn't see, so I'd love to come back.

At the same token, it's time to go back to Argentina. And I've made a rule that while in Argentina that I must eat steak, or ice cream, or both every single day. This is a good rule.

I was headed to El Bolson, but of course it wouldn't be direct. Even getting across the border wouldn't be direct. The bus from Futaleufu took me to the border, and after clearing customs, I (along with the other passengers) waited for another bus to arrive to take us into Argentina, to Esquel. While at the border, I managed to have a brief conversation, in French, with two Swiss girls. I had to keep the conversation brief, lest they find out that my French is not very good... but they likely figured it out for themselves.

In Esquel, I had four hours to kill until the next bus to El Bolson. I wandered around for a bit and stopped for lunch at an Italian restaurant. The owner was a super friendly guy, probably in his seventies. He only spoke Spanish, but he was super patient and spoke slowly for me, and it was perfect. His restaurant is decorated in flags from all around the world, so he's probably very accustomed to non Spanish speakers (though I must admit, I'm one of the few travellers that I've met so far that hasn't taken the effort to be reasonably competent in Spanish before coming). And he makes a pretty delicious gnocchi.

One thing I have to say about the business owners I've met in Chile and Argentina (at least here in Patagonia) is that it really seams that their friendliness towards me has been truly genuine. They don't seem preoccupied with extracting every last possible dollar from you that they can, and are very relaxed and friendly, even towards foreigners wgo don't speak Spanish...

Esquel itself was a place that was originally on my list of stops for my journey north from El Chalten, but my detour through Chile meant I had less time. But after a few hours walking around, I'm satisfied with skipping it.

Not that it would be a bad place to visit. It's a pretty big town, and known for it's rafting. There's a national park that’s nearby as well, but it sounds like you might need a car (and likely a tent) to visit it properly, so that wouldn't have been an option for me anyway. There's not much (actually, probably nothing at all) in Argentina between El Calafate and Esquel, and I'm pleased with my detour through Chile. Overall, there wasn't much about Esquel that grabbed my attention, and I think if I was to come back, I'd still opt for Futaleufu over Esquel.

I was looking forward to El Bolson though, and I headed back to the bus station, grabbed an ice cream (check) and boarded the third leg of my journey that day to El Bolson.

When I boarded the bus, I found something that I hadn't really seen since El Chalten: native English speakers. There was a group of people on the bus that had been riding the bus together for around 16-20 hours from El Calafate, so they had bonded somewhat over their shared ordeal. The bus was certainly nice though, and was one of the really nice ones I'd been hearing about with seats that recline really far and have tons of leg room. If you had ride a bus for 20 hours, this would be a good choice.

I was brought up to speed on the day's movie selections so far, and informed that they had been shown Transporter 3 about three times already, as well as a suite of other action movies. Before arriving in Esquel, they were about fifteen minutes from the end of an indie movie that they were actually sort of interested in called Goats before they shut off the bus, and the movie stopped. The weary travellers were a little peeved about it, since it was the first non-action movie they had been shown, and once the bus started moving again they put on Transporter 3 again, so that didn't please them. The Italian girl went up to the front to negotiate with the conductor who eventually just gave in and let her choose a movie from the system, and we began watching Goats. From the beginning.

I drifted in and out during the bus ride. Out of the window I could see that the rain was turning to snow higher up on the mountains, giving them a light frosting. So the seasons were changing, and there wasn't going to be much time left for hiking in Patagonia this year.

I was also following the movie pretty well, so I was just as disappointed as everyone else when we arrived in El Bolson with about five minutes left in the movie. So just as the movie was about to come to it's conclusion, and the story was going to come together in it's watershed moment, they shut it off. I mean, we could probably guess what was going to happen, but I felt pretty bad for those that had watched the first 90 minutes of this movie twice, only to miss the ending both times.... on a 20 hour bus ride. But most people were carrying on to Bariloche, so maybe they got to see the end of it on that stretch.

I got off the bus along with a couple from England. It was raining lightly, so we'd all taken shelter in the bus company office while we got our bearings. I overheard they didn't have a map to find their hostel. I didn't have a hostel booked, but I did have a map, so I made a deal with them, and we set off together to find their hostel, which would hopefully have a bed available for me.

After wandering up and down the street a few times, struggling to find addresses on buildings, and then struggling to find the address we were looking for, we found the hostel.

Los Arboles Hostel would quickly become a highlight of my trip, and it would start right away. They had a bed for me, which meant that I got to hang out more with the English couple I'd followed from the bus station, Morgan and Will. The hostel was full of great people, including (for the first time on my trip) fellow Canadians from Vancouver, Ottawa, and Montreal. The hostel had a great atmosphere, and everyone was up for socializing.

The kitchen was so busy that I didn't end up cooking dinner until eleven. But it didn't really matter, since I had the opportunity to drink a box of wine and was then shown how to fold it into a wallet. I was instructed to buy a box of wine by my new friend from Vancouver specifically so she could show me how to fold it into a wallet. So now I have a box wine wallet. And most of a box of wine inside me, so eating was a good idea. And boxed wine here is actually still really delicious. I'm pretty convinced that this is proof that there is no bad wine in Argentina.

Afterwards, I tagged along with a few people to the bar, including Morgan, Will, and Bobbi (from Ottawa) and we met up with Bobbi's friends Mattias (Buenos Aires) Josh (Wyoming) and Eddie (Scotland) for some drinks at the bar around the corner. We had a great time, with lot's of beer, photos, laughs, and some tequila (usually a bad idea, never a good one). It was a very silly evening. I had a good conversation about H. Jon Benjamin with Eddie, so he's obviously a pretty ok dude, as far as I'm concerned.

The night ended at, oh, 6:30 am or so when the bar finally closed and we were asked to leave. I'm told the police also politely asked us to leave, but I don't really recall myself...

The next morning I was up at 10, which was much, much earlier than I expected. And I felt much, much better than I expected, so I was probably still drunk. Bobbi was already up, and told me that after she got back, she set up her tent in the yard and slept outside. That's a pretty ridiculous decision to make at 6:30 in the morning, so that should serve as an indication of how silly our night was.

We were all moving pretty slow, and having a good laugh about the night before. I had several emergency coffees to get myself back in working order. Bobbi, Josh, and myself had decided the night before to rent bikes and ride to a nearby lake, but we were not on a good pace to get there.

Eventually, we did leave the hostel, got some food, rented our bikes, and headed over to the outdoor market, since it was one of the days when it's busiest. We finally hit the road at 2 pm, so we felt like pretty useless people overall.

Our bikes were pretty slow, and not in top shape, but we made it to the lake, and it was a beautiful place to have a rest, read a book, and hang out. Josh tried his luck at fly fishing nearby, but came up empty handed. Bobbi reviewed some of the photos from the night before, and they told some pretty good stories. We obviously had more fun than we had intially remembered.

After a long rest at the lake, some lunch, and a good chat, we headed back towards town. But on the way, we stopped at an ice cream shop (check) we saw on the way out. I should really call it an ice cream boutique, because it was some of the best ice cream I've ever had.

After returning our bikes, we met up with Will and Morgan, and the night before we had decided to make poutine, so we did. Well, actually, Will did, and he's a really good cook, so all Bobbi and I had to do was get him some potatoes, and some cheese, (and some wine, but we just drank that) and he made gravy from scratch using some chicken, and we had some pretty solid poutine as a result.

In the yard, there was a bit of a jam session going on, and some pretty talented musicians as it turned out. After playing some games and watching these folks sing songs, we headed out to see an eighties Argentina rock band with some other guests.

At least, that was original plan, but it sounded a bit uncertain, so instead most of us just headed back to El Sol again (the bar around the corner) for another evening of conveniently located merriment. And they had live music, and there were a lot more people in the bar. But we were probably still a bit worn out from the night before, so we called it an early night... at about 4:30am.

The next morning, I was given a proper set of instructions on how mate is supposed to be prepared and shared by the hostel owner. It's a very social experience, and ritualistic in an odd way. It's not religious, or ceremonial in any way, but there is a specific method that somehow makes relaxed socialization a formal ritual. It's neat.

That day, the “El Sol” crew of the last couple of days were all moving on form El Bolson. Morgan and Will were heading to Bariloche, and I was going to be a couple of hours behind them. Josh was heading into the bush for a couple of days for some more camping, and Mattias and Bobbi were going to drive north and do some camping before heading to Bariloche. So we all had somewhere to be, but nobody really wanted to leave hostel. We had actually grown quite close in this short time, and we didn't want to let our El Bolson family come to an end. But we were mostly all going to see each other again in El Bolson, so it wasn't really going to be the end.

Morgan and Will headed out first, but not until after a steak lunch together (check). They left, and I went to the market again, which was much smaller than the day before. I bought some wool for Vanessa, as well as some chocolates to share with the folks back at the hostel. I also picked up some ice cream (check) before and spent the last hours in El Bolson, just hanging out with people in the hostel before my bus.

El Bolson for me was all about the people I was with. I hadn't really realized it while travelling through Chile alone that I was lonely and staying in hospedajes meant missing out on the social atmosphere of hostels. Having a trip that goes through different phases and changes like that is a luxury of being able to take several weeks (or more) at a time to travel, and not having a strict itinerary. I like the solitude at times, but mostly I prefer being with a good group of people. They start out as strangers, and become good friends within hours. My memory of El Bolson will always be tied to the people I shared my time with.

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