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Published: February 20th 2008
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We caught an overnight bus to El Bolson and collapsed into a taxi with all our bags for a quick hop up to a hostel we´d pre-booked online. Having been promised a working farmhouse, with the option of sampling their breads, jams and other produce, we were pretty disappointed on arrival to find a hippy commune where no-one was up yet (it was past 11) and the single dorm was small, dirty and crowded! We didn´t hang around long enough to call a taxi and walked back down the hill (which by now seemed much larger - thankfully we were going down it) with all our bags. Having revived ourselves with a coffee and medialunas (small croissants) we found a much nicer place with a friendly owner who fired high-speed spanish at anyone in the vicinity without pause.
El Bolson is only 2 hours south of Bariloche and has a similarly spectacular landscape, nestling in the valley of two huge mountain ridges, but feels much more laidback, horizontal even, and the biweekly market was full of hippy tat. Nevertheless Holly and I went on one of my most picturesque runs ever, along a dirt road into the valley and woods
and finally up to a waterfall. The food also was delicious, so good on the first night that we went back to the same restaurant for a repeat. Trout ravioli went down just as well as the lamb casserole. Yummy.
Holly and I got back to Bariloche on sunday afternoon and moved back into Hostel 1004 where we had been before. This time they put us in the other side of the building, looking out over the town and whose bathroom had uninterrupted views over the lake to the mountains on the far side. The early bird gets the worm and it became a race in the morning as to who could get out of bed earliest and so bag the good shower.
That sunday night, however, there happened to be a rally of tuned up cars and breakdancers in the square below our window. 20 or 30 cars, dripping with spoilers, bodywork and flashing neon lights, competed to produce the most amount of noise but my vote was won by the coolest Renault 4 ever: metallic black, racing mirrors, huge rear wing, a boot full of speakers and stereo equipment and a very proud owner who was
distinctly chuffed to have photos taken of his car! The breakdancers on the main stage were impressive too, as much for their enthusiasm as for their skill.
Back into spanish classes on monday, we still had the afternoons free to swim in Lago Moreno near Llau Llau and to go horseriding. The horses were bigger than in Mendoza, and had to be as we spent a lot of time going up and down very steep mountain paths around Cerro Otto. My horse loved going uphill, the steeper the better, but was very tentative coming back down - until the last bit when he charged straight to the front of the group and initiated a mad canter home. I can´t pretend to having much style and clung on to the pommel, legs flapping like I was taking off and bouncing a foot out of the saddle with each stride. I might have to have a bit more practice before taking on polo after all...
Sadly Holly had to go back to work on wednesday, so I was to be alone for the first time in the trip. Life was certainly quieter, although tango lessons organised by the school were
a good distraction. I managed to spend 2 hours walking backwards in a circle and not trip (myself, my partner or others) too many times.
Over the weekend I hiked around Cerro Catedral, well known in the winter for its skiing, staying again in refugios. The first climb on friday afternoon was up to Refugio Frey. A 3 or 4 hour steady climb through bamboo, which only opened out just below the finish. Halfway up I was passed by a sheep dog herding horses (horsedog?). It was a huge alsatian controlling two horses on their way down the slope, and who immediately responded to a whistle/yell by rounding up the horses and keeping them still on the side of the track. They were followed a little while later by a rider and then suddenly by a fourth horse madly galloping down the very narrow path. A very apologetic rider finished up the group!
Frey was full of people who had come up for a climbing competition over the next two days, so was quite lively but nothing compared to the next night... I left, not particularly early the next morning, but the walk which is described as taking 8 hours took an easy 6 (including a sidetrack for a different view of Cerro Tres Reyes and a long siesta on a sun-warmed boulder in a green meadow at lunctime). Therefore I arrived at Refugio Jakob in the mid-afternoon but preparations were already well underway for a party that evening. As it turned out it was the Refugiero´s birthday and there was to be a huge asado for about a hundred people (beef, lamb, sausages already roasting over an open fire) complete with birthday cake, live music and even a film. The music started early - improvised tango on drums, violin and a cello (!!!), a break for the meat (PLENTY to go around) and then as it got dark a film (climbers scaling the hugely difficult Cerro Torre by iceaxe and crampon) was projected onto the wall. All this at just under 2000m and with no mains electricity. We sang happy birthday and then queued up for cake - only at the front of the queue did I realise the done thing was to dive in face first and take as large a bite as possible - no hands allowed. Messy and delicious. The music went on well into the night, luckily the walk home on sunday was easy, mostly flat after the first drop and predominantly shaded.
I do have to report that I did swim in the lakes at both refugios - mostly because I knew Holly would be disappointed if I didn´t. Both times I got out refreshed and clean, glad that I had been in (as I´m sure were the people eating and sleeping nearby).
(More photos to follow!)
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Holly
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I am proud and very relieved Ol you had a swim!!!!