From bustling metropolis to hippy-ville

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The flight up to Trelew from Calafate (southern Patagonia) was on time, a miracle given I flew the government owned airline of AA. I sat next to an Italian lawyer, the 3rd met in one day, and for her the coincidence of sitting next to a healthcare worker on her inward leg it was an uncanny coincidence! We swapped emails and invites. An enthusiastic greeting by Eben Ezer shuttles was welcome after a lax biosecurity passage despite the signage, and I was made to feel at home with old wallpaper, furnishings and hospitality at ‘Hi’ Patagonia, 1 block (3 mins) from beachfront on Puerto Madryn and 10 mins south of town centre.

Not only a run down of the available tour options was given in excellent English, but specific directions to a heated pool 5 minutes walk away, the money withdrawal situation in Argentina (big news how the government needs to print more money to save everyone queuing, and severe inflation changing supermarket prices by the week), the low down on farming and grain industries, the water supply in a rainless edge-of-desert landscape scenario, and the place to restock groceries and provisions delivered with a genuine smile.

Not that I rest on my ‘malo’ Espanol (bad) laurels, but to spend a few days here was needed when you’ve been remote even if you don’t hanker for a disco or unkempt heated pool pumping out 80s classics like Forever Young and Heartbeats by the Pet Shop boys. Why they have endless isles of coke zero and free wifi everywhere in comparison speaks volumes – the influence of their northern cousins.

The local hang out in Madryn (‘very very safe at all times’ they said) seemed to be the beach, a strange likeness to any other tacky seaside resort (Brighton, LLandudno, Gold Coast without high rises) and combining supremely erratic south American town planning where gravel curb-less roads meet promenade with weeds growing skywards. In it’s defence note the presence of a murky but okay pool within 5 minutes walk and the beach, a centre of Argentinean culture itself – I couldn’t have planned it better – multilingual staff, and proximity to UNESCO listed sealion, penguin colonies on Valdes peninsula and I was content. Now that was worthy of visiting. It could have been easy to muck around in Madryn for a day, with several museums, shops, running errands if you need, but Argentina is evidently not known for museums I was informed so made the choice to go to Valdes for a full day at 360 pesos plus park fee of 70 pesos (there is also Tombes, home to the Magellenic penguin masses, and nearer Lomo peninsulas, or swimming/ diving with sealions in the Golfo Nuevo area for a princely fee of 150USD per half day, I passed on all 3).

Starting out on a wet Saturday morning for Valdes, the warnings of treacherous roads, slides, closures of Punta Pirimides harbour and general unpleasantness gave way to diminishing rain, cloudy windy skies and a cool 15C in contrast to other hot days. The masses of sealions (‘llobomarinas’), penguins (‘penguino’) and open ocean (Atlantico sur) at Puntas’ Norte, Delgada, Cantor made it an invigorating and exciting day with some extra wildlife spotting (stunned guanacos, iguanos, and emus running like roadrunner!) to and from the privately owned park divided into sectors. Forgoing the cruise at Pirimides we ended up picking at lunch or drinking tea/ coffee, and me writing a postcard in a café while the wind howled some more outside, in good company.

Final preparation for an overnight bus meant relishing an evening swim at Escrafalo, and the desperate search for an ATM that works as by Saturday, usually like the endless desert-scape I have travelled, they are run dry. Trying 2, I got 3rd time lucky at Banco de la nacion of Argentina – the whole country has ground to a halt before as people have missed payments and exchanged things when no cash is in machines to dispense. A cash society without credit stinks when you are travelling. Pharmacies that stock vitamins instead of supermarkets, and no available water purification tablets was next lesson learnt – discouraged to endorse the bottled revolution from Antarctica sermon on our extensive carbon footprint. Such freedom this way, as there is never a reliable water shop when you need it; better safe than nauseous.

Noisy but luxurious ‘ejecutivo’ overnight bus later (seats do recline 160 degrees at hip level), and having well annoyed the attendant without knowing to expect a compulsory dinner and movie at 11.30pm when just pulling eyes shut, I arrived in planned Esquel ('E-qy') with fatigue and a brain warming up to Espanol. Frustration got better of me, so too no locker storage to allow exploration of town (a sign says there is, never believe all you see!) and I bought an onwards ticket to El Bolson immediately on 2nd rate carrier, Don Otto/ Mar Y Valle day service. The recliners were just enough to fall asleep some more and get my hunchback pack to El Bolson for the next leg of the journey, self stated hippy-ville for 3 days.

I liked the setting and with much gusto (not mucho gusto, that means ‘pleased to meet you’) head off on foot with directions of bus attendant to the accommodation. This always involved checking 5 times on the way there, in mainly Spanish much of which I cannot understand and have well practiced the ‘Puede hablas mas despacio por favor’ (speak slowly please) but it makes NO difference! Long story short, passing hippy-ville markets I managed to rouse attention at a medical clinic and the lady kindly called me a remise which I asked for. A measely 1 minute later I got to the refugio, early, and basically head off to explore leaving gear in room. Looking a real stunner after last night in curly afro (!), a little extra dirt was not going to make much difference and the Mirador de Azul allowed that. Met this family and exchanged photos – one man said ‘ahh NZ, famous for the Kaka’. I corrected him with Haka, before much praising of our rugby ability.

Then the fee paying began, to access Area recreativa Cabeza del Indio (lookout 5km from town), and then down dusty trail for 45 mins to reach Cascada Escondida, both only 3 pesos….and then got lost after having lunch at the falls trying to get back to El Bolson despite much instruction in faltered Espanol. Disappointed the refugio person and tourist centre could not help enough, I nearly threw the towel in again for a remise ‘phone a friend’ – life is harder in 34C heat with no fans or air con in sight – but the man at the Cascada physically walked me to the route entry and explained cinco minuto alta (5 mins up), (thereafter) es facil (easy). He was right, and the hardest part was walking the last 2km of the famous route 40 into town again in full sunlight. Pity my skin.

Back in Hippy-ville, the market was in full swing – woven this n that, copious silver, the largest collection of auto historica ( = bombed out cars) seen in a while, most with half or absent number plates – it had it all. Feeling even more stunning by now, I threw several towels in – to clean the bathroom in my ‘superior room’ of the liquid pool that had collected on the floor and grime from old linen left there (not cleaned). Seems too many hairs in sink hole caused overflowing, and is usual procedure between ‘stays’ - needless to say the Refugio Patagonico could improve.

But to end this positively, 'Hats off' though the following day to Hu hu Julio Iglesias at the refugio who helped arrange bike hire (with helmet, lock), and advise me where to go for a half day. 2 hats off for lady at the hire place in El Bolson for speaking in English (she picked I had been to Antarctica with my baggage tag, I said 'mucho moneda' and she agreed it is worth it) and helping plan a route on thr 40 peso Raleigh that did not always involve more entry fee paying – 20 pesos to enter Lago Puelo so when had only 30 minutes to spare cycled to option 2 – and in all had a nice trot to Nahuel waterfalls (a trickle, through fields of hops and orchard farms) up a gently rising gravel road, and to a quiet swimming spot on the Rio Azul with 2 local Argentines, after seeing the small town of Puelo 17km away. Bracing heat and exhaustion, icy water, wonderful scenery, trinket shops selling wares, stalls jams, or just play the choose your cabana (lodge) game betwixt the 2 locales.

Heading north to Lake district of Argentina and Chile for the next week. I hope they deliver as so far Torres Del paine and El Chalten win hands down for scenery and isolation.

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