Argentina Lake District more than Kendal Mint Cake and a wet weekend camping!

---

A day late we arrived in to Bariloche. A whole day! "Seems an awful long time for a bus to run behind schedule?" I here you exclaim with utter astonishment. Well, I have to confess that we attempted to "cheat" a bit here by getting an internal flight from El Calafate to Bariloche. Before you cry foul or begin to lose your faith in my commitment to this backpacking malarky let me try to explain myself. We wanted to take Route 40 north, however, this road is partly ripio and thus liable to destruction at the merciless hands of the winter weather gods. No buses run this route for a few weeks yet while repairs are made. The alternative was a 28 hour bus ride back along the same road we had come. I'm all for bus travel but b******s to that! One of us would have been commited by the end of it so we decided to fly. With an airline, if you can call them that, which make Ryan Air and Easy Jet seem like professional outfits. If you come to Argentina and want to fly with Areolineas Argentina, be prepared to be let down, probably. We'd heard rumours that they were bad, and they were true! We waited at the airport, paying an extortionate amount of money for a microwaved burger (monopolies are not bad for everyone), and 5 minutes before take off we are told the flight is delayed. All flights are delayed. No one actually talks to us of course, the screen just changes.



So we wait, the staff actively ignore us, which is irritating and at the same time quite impressive! We wait in impotent, frustrated, ignorance for three hours. It's really boring and I wonder if this is commupance for going against one of the unwritten rules of The Backpacking Bible (I'm not sure if this book actually exists, and in expressing these doubts I'm likely more of a blasphemer if it does indeed exist). The previous flight is called for boarding, it's getting interesting. All the other passengers around perk up and watch this lucky group who will escape the glass and metal cage, borne away by a steel angel. It becomes a bit tense as they all stand around in a queue, still not sure what is going on, the screen still says delayed but the Departure Lounge Metatron has commanded, and all shall obey. The tension subsides to boredom as thirty minute passes with nothing happening. Not a single lifeform in a uniform has crept out from under their rocks. The Metatron mumbles something in Spanish and the departure lounge erupts in fury! Old people are shouting, groups of Japanese tourists, clearly having no grasp of Spanish but being carried away by their Latin companions, begin an ironic slow clap and chorus of boos begin to ring out. Yes, Metatron has announced that the Good Lord of Flight Plans hath decreed that they have sinned too much and as such will be subject to His (or Her) judgement, and that is to spend one more night in El Calafate, and one more day in this damned airport. The damned forlornly depart, not golden staircase awaits, on the sad sight of their baggage on the arrival carousel. The rest of us coallesce and try to reassure ourselves that we have been spared the rapture and that we shall in fact depart here to a better life in the north. Our flight is called. We queue, fearing damnation. The Metatron does not bless us with any words. Panic begins to build, "what if we do get stranded?" We can't be damned, we're good little travellers. Though we have been tempted to evil by flying. Crap! We've sinned against the god of back packing without thinking and now we are to be judged and punished! On cue the Metatron proclaims that we too are amongst the damned. Our punishement...one night in a five star hotel with free food and drink. Oh, really? Where do I get my bag and where's the nearest taxi? It was luxurious and most likely wasted on us plebs, but we had good time drinking wine and eating Bife de Chorizo steaks before returning the next day to finally complete our journey to Bariloche. Sin is good it seems! Write that down JC.

Anyhow, enough of the quasi-religious nonsense, I'm not sure I pulled it off convincingly and I've wasted time talking about a sodding delay, which is just one of those things. You cowboy up and get on with it. No more tears from me! Plus that steak was rather good and we met some nice people who were also exploring Argentina. We agreed to meet up with Kelly and Damon, from London and one here on holiday, for drinks the following night and to share the car hire for the 7 lakes drive (see below). It's been a week and I still can't figure out what I thought about Bariloche. It wasn't horrible, but nor did it captivate me (unlike San Martin which was beautiful, but more of that later) as other similar places had. It seemed pleasant enough and it was quirky to see that the trees lining the streets all had their own individual knitted jumpers. The architecture was faux-alpine, I guess to fit in with the ski-resort image and reputation, and it is situated on a hill on the southern side of a lake which gave spectacular views. But it all felt a little bit souless, no-one appeared to be a local and tourism apart there was little else there to give it real character. Even the bloody Irish pub was all show; a Guiness tap but no Guiness or Irish Whisky for that matter! But, the countryside was why we were here, not the town, and that did not disappoint.

Llao Llao (pronounced Shao Shao, as Argentines have a different pronounciation of the double L to the rest of the Spanish speaking world) is a small park a few kilometers outside of Bariloche. We had planned to climb the small hill here to get "some beautiful views" (according to the park ranger) but we seemed to miss the turnoff and instead wandered around a couple of lakes which were stunning. One was called the Hidden Lake, which seems like a dumb name as it's signposted from all over the place and would lose a game of hide and seek. The park is known for the Arrayan Forest which is small but wonderful. The Arrayan tree is a deep red colour and as the bark continually peels it stands out in stark contrast to it's lichen covered neighbours. We had lunch in a secluded lakeside beach with a spectular view of the Andes and just soaked up the sun. Although we missed the hill it was still a pretty decent day out and it was all for the cost of a cheap bus ticket. During the evening we had dinner with Damon and Kelly at Gilberts Pub, taking advantage of the happy hour to down a few locally brewed Artesan Beers (the IPA was the best) and consume some quasi-German food, it was very tasty and in contrast to the huge slabs of meat we have become accustomed to at dinner time. The previous evening we ate at the only Chinese restaurant in town, biazrrely located in the bowling alley, and it was sublime. I'd reccomend the Kung-Po Chicken. The evening was finished off with expensive but delicious ice cream from one of the many chocolateirs that inhabit Bariloche (the Lemon Meringue Pie and Dolce de Leche favours were interesting).



To do the 7 Lake drive we decided to hire a car to give us freedom and to avoid being ripped off by the tour companies who seem to operate a price-fixing scheme in the town. I've never driven on the "wrong side of the road" before and was slightly apprehensive about it. Luckily Damon was pretty confident and took the first stint behind the wheel and we headed north along R40. The 400km round trip is brimming with outstanding views of deeep azure lakes, rimmed by snow-capped peaks and lush greeen forests. The landscape is dramatic as the mountains rise straight out of the water and rise several thousand meters to pierce the faultlessly blue sky. The road winds its way amongst the valleys, circumventing streams, lakes and hills and to make things more interesting, alternates between asphalt and ripio. Kelly and Damon were celebrating 10 years together that day and Ellie had bought a bottle of Argentine Champers for them, which we shared at lunch (again by a secluded lake, only condors and ducks for company). I don't like sparkling wine so I was in the driving seat for the rest of the day. Apart from a few hairy gear stick moments, it's difficlt to change gears when you try to put your hads through the window, it was pretty plain sailing. Well driving, I'm pretty sure sailing is a whole different thing. Anyway, the drive was great fun and we didn't tire of seeing different lakes and different surroundings, each was unique and captivating. At the end of the first leg we arrived in San Martin de los Andes, a small town located on a lakeside beach. We ate some icecream and soaked up the sunshine and the laidback natue of this town surrounded by the Andes. It was quirky too, a life-size, colour, papermache statue of deers occupies the plaza near the beach and the tourbus is a convered London bus. The return journey took us a long R63 which is the scariest and most fun bit of driving I have ever had to do. One section of the road is literally a cliff hanger! However, ripio road runs along a huge valley bed, tracing a route parallel to the river. The valley floor was incredibly narrow and the windblasted, disfigured cores of former volcanos towered above us. The shapes these hills had been eroded into were wonderful and the fading light of the day cast bewildering shadows across the valley. It was a spectular day, but we had to say goodbye to our companions as they headed off to get dru...um, I mean, indulge in sophisticate wine tasting in Mendoza and we headed south ato El Bolson.

El Bolson sits at the base of a steep Andean valley, the mountains either side were snow capped and punctured by deep ravines where streams flowed to the valley floor. Apparently it was a small place until the 60's when Hippies decided it had a "good energy", or other such new age nonsense, and relocated here enmasse to sort our their chakras and what not. There is a market three times a week in which locals pedddle their handicrafts and other trinkets, but there are few "free spirits" remaining as it's become slightly more commercial in recent times. There is, however, a distinctly relaxed feel and much bohemian art and sculpture on display in the public spaces, however, the best of the artisan work is located 2000m up the side of one of the mountains in The Carved Forrest (Bosque Tallado). There are 30 odd pieces of art carved into the remains of trees in an area devastated by a fire, some time between now and 6 billion years ago. There were some wierd and wonderful pieces and it was quite bizarre walking about with the backdrop of the whole valley below. A further climb took us to a Refugio near the summit where we drank some fantastic hot chocolate made by the guy who lives there all year (people bring him supplies and he sells stuff to trekkers), and I got over my fear of cats! The pet cat there sort of just imposed himself on me and he had a lion-esque mane so how could I be mean to him? The views were incredible and with hindsight we wished we had stayed at the refugio for sunset and sun rise, especially since our hostel was rubbish, probaby the worst place we have stayed(La Camorra, avoid it. I've heard good things about Casa del Viajero, go there instead). The staff didn't seem to care and were more interested in hanging out with their mates, the book swap was non-existant, the DVD player a fabrication and the mattress was so old that it practically folded Ellie and I on top of each other. Don't be bought by the reviews on hostelworld.com!We also visted Lago Puelo here, which was nice, but nothing spectacular, although once spring kicks in to gear I think it could be quite stunning. We left, we feel, a bit too soon and really should have spent a 3 days here, at least,to get the most of it. We headed further south again to Esquel, the western-most outpost of the Welsh Chubut Colonies. Our plan was to cross the border here to Chaiten in Chile and get the ferry to Chiloe, but it turns out the bus runs only twice a week now and no had bothered to inform the tourist office! Good work, trebles all round, huazzah! So we were basically in stop off town for a night before having to head back to Bariloche in order to cross to Chile



We made the most of of our time in Esquel by cooking and devouring some delicious black puddings and walking to yet another lake which was more like the lakes/lochs I'm used to seeing in the UK. We also had the worst coffee we've yet to have here in South America, which is saying something. The coffee has been universally dreadful in Brazil and Argentina, just awful, which is strange considering where coffee if predominantly grown...South America! Nescafe is ubiquitous and even if there is a proper coffee machine the chances are the beans are the worst possible kind. Sometimes I even wonder if it's even coffee, perhaps it's just burnt wood mixed with water? It's no wonder that they are addicted to mate if they consider this abomination to be coffee. Alas, mate is very good in it's own right and we have now purchased our own gourd and mate straw to help us feel more legitimate mate connoisseurs. Here in Argentina 99.9% of the population probably drink mate every day, although I have completely fabricated that statisitic. It has a bit of a kick to it, like espresso or anphetamines, but tastes similar to strong green tea; it is very bitter. People will walk anywhere and everywhere with their gourd and a flask of hot water and just top up as an when desired. If offered mate it's pretty disrespectful to turn it down and it seems like it is a religious cult with devout followers! Now that we've been inducted we probably not be allowed to leave the mate cult willingly and so will have to find a supplier in the UK or face kidnapping and reprogramming!



Next stop Puerto Varas in Chile, but we've still to come back to Argentina before we move on to Bolivia.

---

Photos

Not so hidden lake
Lakes....crap at Hide & Seek

Bariloche
Spooky!!

In case the trees get cold?
God forbid the trees haven't evolved to be effective at surviving the cold

Champers
Champagne

Rivers make lakes
Beautiful river on the way to San Martin

Waterfalls
The 7 Lakes Drive isn't just lakes I'll have you know!

Route 63
Great day!

Lakes & Mountains
This road would be less fun if it was flat for sure! Hurrah for geology!

Volcanic Valley
Shadows are fun

El Bolson
What a view...

Art
It's art and nature. Brilliant. Though the bleeding heart is a bit much...

Rhythm is a...tree
More Art

Refugio
Should rename this the Hot Chocolate Shack...nope, that sounds lame. Best stick with Refugio.