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The lakes crossing from Puerto Varas to Bariloche was a long, very damn long day. It started with the amazing breakfast of the guesthouse featuring freshly baked muffins and all homemade breads and pastries - I could really get used to this. At 8:30am we took off on the bus which 2 hours to the start of the ferry, making a stop at some small waterfalls for 20 minutes along the way. The ferry to Puella was another 2 hours and we arrived in Puella for lunch. The average age on the lakes crossing must have been pushing 80 and the worst thing was that they were mostly very loud Americans. Very annoying - turn up your hearing aid gramps and she won’t have to yell at you!

We got on another bus in Puella which drove us to the Argentine border, we shared the bus with numerous horse flies and the air conditioning leaked on my head most of the way. At the border we had to wait another hour in the middle of nowhere for another bus heading to the next boat trip, a short 45 minute crossing past Victoria Island to the edge of Bariloche.

We woke up to a beautiful morning in Bariloche and after having a nice breakfast we set out to explore the main avenue, known as Mitre. I had become used to shitty breakfast rooms in Peru, Bolivia and Chile, and was amazed to come across dulce de leche in Argentina, a kind of caramel spread that locals put on their toast instead of jam that was sickly sweet. I suddenly enjoyed breakfast of toast each morning.

The main avenue of Bariloche starts with a nice plaza surrounded by wooden buildings and we walk along the nice street filled with handmade chocolate shops and quirky cafes. Our first stop was the very touristy Turismo Chocolate shop where we had a hot chocolate that was so rich I felt sick - we then went to La Goya, the nicest chocolate shop and bought presents as well as lots from the display cases - I loved the white chocolate caramel too much - no lunch required after that!

White water rafting trip

We are the last pickup on the way to white water rafting and we drive for an hour along the famous Che Guareva motorcycle route to get to Rio Manso where the class III and IV rapids await us. The driver and 3 guides sing along to Bob Marley tunes and sip on Mate tea the whole way there and the only one of them who speaks English tells us it will be a fun day and relax - nothing more at this point. We get to a run-down shack in the middle of nowhere where they pump up the rafts and give us plain croissants and coffee before our rafting begins, telling us to eat because we will need our strength! There are 2 boats, one for the 6 Spanish speakers and 1 for the 5 English speakers. Our boat is me, Sarah, and English girl, an Aussie guy Scott and a kiwi guy who is a bit of a hero but very well travelled. The English girl spoke good Spanish. On the other boat was a French couple and two Argentine couples, one on their honeymoon. Their guide was a totally ripped mad man who swung from the trees and did crazy stuff. Our guide was a big man, a bit tubby but very strong. He was quite funny and his English was not great. He asked the two strongest paddlers to take the front. The kiwi princess said no, as did the two girls, leaving me and Scott to lead the charge. I took the left side and quickly tried to remember how to paddle. The guide told us to ‘listen for him comments’ and he was talk us through each rapid.

We practiced synchronisation which I was very bad at, luckily Scott wasn’t much better but we improved with time and instruction. There was a lot of splashing going on with the other boat before we hit the rapids. As we heard the rapids approaching, Scott and I got rather scared, considering the convoluted instructions and our lack of skill we were regretting taking pole position on the raft. The first rapid we got wrong and bounced off a rock quite violently, our guide getting us all inside and paddling us out of danger. The next rapid had some steep waves and Scott and I got the best views of them coming as we went up and down and up and down again. We positioned ourselves well for the remaining rapids and had a ball as we were tossed about in different directions, narrowly missing the rocks. The scenery of the national park and surrounding mountains was amazing and a great way to see it.

In a quieter spot along the river, we all jumped out and floated down the river. Damn it was cold water and then I remembered that it does come from the surrounding snow capped mountains and despite outside temperatures in the high twenties, the water is a chilly eight degrees! Despite it being a slow part of the river, it was amazing how fast you float down the river and how difficult it was to stay feet first the whole way. We got back in the raft for the last two rapids, the last one our guide told us we had to stay to the left of the rock in the middle otherwise we will end up floating all the way to Chile where border police with guns are waiting and will use our white helmets as target practice (and that was why he was wearing a black helmet). We negotiate it successfully and Scott and I are relieved to have made it through unscathed as is Sarah who is sitting in the back with the guide paddling away. An amazing experience! We climb out of the raft after two hours quite tired and have to stagger one hundred metres up a steep hill, while local farmers using horses carry the rafts up to the road for a few pesos.

We get back in the bus and drive back to our starting point for an awesome Patagonian style BBQ and some cold drinks, just what we needed! Far too much steak was on offer but it was very tasty as was the accompanying chimichurri sauce. We went for a little walk after lunch back to the river where a few jumped in and many skimmed rocks, the most impressive of which was our guide who reached the other side with his powerful right arm. We then jumped on the bus and returned to our hotel.

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