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Published: August 1st 2011
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Ah, Bariloche, my home away from home. I'd visited in February and March, summer and then in mid-May, fall and had hoped to spend winter there as snow covered its picturesque log and stone buildings, photogenically set on the 100-km long Lake Nahuel Huapi. However, this was not to be as in June, the Puyehue Volcano in Chile covered my beloved Bariloche with ashes and not snow. Having left books, summer clothes and friends there, I'm sure to return.
Bariloche is in Argentina's Lake District and is surrounded by the Andes and lots of forested lakes. It's a world class ski resort, and its alpine architecture and culture reflect this with St. Bernards in the plaza, Swiss fondue and hotels named after European and American ski resorts.
Outside of ski season, it's still an outdoor playground. During the late summer, I had fantastic hikes in the surrounding mountains, took a chairlift up for fantastic views and visited nearby charming communities.
In the fall, my friend Nancy from Santa Barbara visited, and we took a tour to the impressive Alerces Waterfall and majestic, extinct volcano Mt. Tronador, whose western side I'd seen across the Andes in Chile.
In between
adventures, I'd stroll along the lake, taking in the mountain vistas or down the streets, admiring the gorgeous outdoor clothing shops and sampling the treats in the chocolate shops, mostly in Mamuschka, my favorite.
However, my first impression of Bariloche hadn't been so great. My subcompact Panasonic camera had once again had problems while I was staying in little El Bolson, so I'd taken an incredibly scenic, 2-hour day trip to Bariloche to get the camera repaired. Compared to tiny, mellow El Bolson, Bariloche, with its 102,000 people, semed huge and bustling. Then, checking out the prices of the hostels, I found nothing in my $10 price range. I couldn't even find any street food.
Sitting in a rose-filled park, pondering my options, I was soon joined by a couple of young guys, one of whom was going to my alma mater, the University of California at Santa Barbara. In 6 months of travel, I'd encountered few Americans and none from my city. Best of all, they told me about their hostel, Fun Patagonia, which in this low season, charged even less than $10. My luck had turned around.
I returned to El Bolson, took a last
couple of hikes, said goodby to my wonderful friends at the campground and hopped the bus for another gorgeous mountain and lake ride on Argentina's famous Route 40 to Bariloche and Fun Patagonia.
As it was low season, I often had the room to myself. The workers were fun as were the guests, often Israelis who'd come in groups of friends who'd just finished their required military service and had a small pot of travel gold and were young and buff and ready to take on Patagonian mountains.
My first day there, I caught a bus to follow the 60 km Circuito Chico, a scenic loop which more energetic types did by bike. However, as there were many hills on the route, I saw more than one couple walking their bikes up the hills, and was glad I was cruising on the bus. We followed the lake with its many gorgeous, upscale vacation homes and rentals with their flower-filled gardens.
At Cerro Campamento, I caught a chairlift that floated me up to the top where I had my breath taken away by the panoramic views of lakes, islands, and mountains. National Geographic says it's one of the
10 best views in the world, and I totally concur. Returning in the fall, the hills were even more spectacular with their reds and golds.
Hopping on the next passing bus, I headed to Argentina's premier resort, Llao Llao, on a little hill overlooking two lakes. Generally, they don't allow riff raff to enter, but since I was alone, they allowed me to peek into its elegant/rustic interior with its great views in all directions. Winding down the hill, I passed the golf course edged with roses and lavender buzzing with fat yellow and black bees and continued on to the ferry boats that, for a small fortune, took lucky visitors across a couple of lakes to Chile.
Continuing along, I came to an 11-kilometer trail that would take me around lakes, through cane/bamboo tunnels and forests of red-barked, madrone-like, arrayan trees, under a stone Romanesque-style bridge and up to tons of fabulous viewpoints. Arriving at the Resort Lopez, I enjoyed a well-deserved, cold beer and sat out on the patio to watch sun beams dance on the lake before catching a bus back to town.
Nearby charming Colonia Suisa was recommended to me by my hiking
Uruguayan colleague, Fede. He'd spoken of a quiet, charming hippie village nestled between a mountain and a lake. However, I made the mistake of going on a Sunday when the town was filled with marathon runners and their supporters, partiers attending a big artisan fair with great live music, and weekenders camping by the lake. It was wild and festive but a zoo.
Fortunately, I returned with Nancy in the fall on a weekday, and we could appreciate the peace, the Swiss influences (and fondue) and the colorful, hand-built houses. Not only that, some of the poplars still lit up the sky with their autumn-golden leaves, and a big flock of brilliant green Patagonian parrots swept through the skies and perched in branches.
For my birthday on March 1st, I decided to tackle a difficult trail up to the Fray mountain refuge. I wanted to prove to myself that I still had what it took and would be strong and nimble enough for the trails in Patagonia. I bused an hour up to Cerro Cathedral, the site of winter skiing, and headed up the trail.
The scenery was glorious with lots of orange lilies and other wildflowers
being pollinated by fat yellow and black bees, a wide, deep-blue lake winding around the mountain and little streams to cross on funky log bridges. When younger, I loved crossing these, imagining that I was a tight-rope walker. Now, I was filled with trepidation at the first few, but gradually returned to liking the sensation of walking on air and trusted my balance again.
The last hour of the hike, the trail became incredibly steep, but the beauty in the striated mountains made up for the pain my legs and lungs were feeling. Finally, I made it to the little refuge, sited at the conjunction of two valleys and with a mirror lake nearby. It took me much longer than the signpost indicated, so I had to hurry down before dark, but it was a fabulous birthday and one of my favorite hikes. I celebrated that night at a scrumptious vegetarian restaurant.
My summer sojourn in Bariloche ended after a couple of weeks, and I headed south, back to Patagonia proper, to Esquel to visit the ancient trees in the Parque de Alerces. However, I returned in late May to meet my friend Nancy for a couple of
weeks of adventure. While I've met and befriended lots of great people here in South America, it was so wonderful to have a old friend with me--a little taste of home (not to mention all the treats she brought me).
We'd come for autumn which is supposed to be the Lake District's most stunning season. We'd missed the goldening of the poplars who now sadly pointed up to the sky with their thin barren branches. However, other trees and bushes were decked out in their autumn reds.
A tour took us deep into the fantastic national park that surrounds Bariloche, Parque Nahuel Huapi. Our small van passed through autumn-colored forests and reflecting lakes, dropping us at a sweet trail along a river that led to series of cascades of the Alerces Waterfall. Later, we visited the wondrous black glacier of huge, towering Mt. Tronador (3554m), an extinct volcano that straddles the border of Argentina and Chile. The black, lower glacier contrasted with its white counterpart higher up and calved its little mineral-covered icebergs into a lake, that was colored a bizarre green-gray color.
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On this second visit to Bariloche, Nancy rented a car, and we headed up
the uber-scenic Route of the Seven Lakes, passing many more than seven lakes and visiting little resorts, some wonderfully deserted in the great off-season. However, as I write this, it's August, and I'll soon return. Hopefully, the ashes and ski crowds will be gone, and snow, peace and friends will fill the town. Hasta pronto, Bariloche!
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Bernie
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Great blogs
Tara....good to see the blogs coming thru again.....sounds like you are having a wonderful time.....the best to you......Bernie Lemke