Bariloche, a foodie haven amongst the lakes

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Day 142: Mountains, chalets and chocolate

With a hearty breakfast of some savoury crackers and a cup of coffee (alfajores were also on offer, but I wasn't that desperate), the journey continued. The scenery was starting to get a bit more exciting as we drew closer to Bariloche, with lakes and mountains either side of the road making the journey just a little bit less boring. Lunch was a bit of a non-event for me, consisting of cheese and ham sandwiches, and we were both relieved when the bus finally pulled into the small terminal in Bariloche. We took a taxi to our hostel, the popular Marco Polo Inn, where we again had an en suite room. Unfortunately it was above the bar, but this didn't become problematic until later in the evening. We didn't stop for too long at the hostel, but head into town for a trip to the laundrette and a much needed icecream, required to psych myself up for calling BABA. It turned out that it was a good ten degrees colder than it had been in Mendoza, and wandering about town, there was a biting wind, making jumper-wearing a necessity.

The town itself, although touristy, was rather lovely, with wooden swiss chalet style buildings lining the streets and every other shop selling chocolate and or icecream! One or two locals in the central square led giant St Bernard´s around, charging for photos with them. After an extremely good chocolate icecream, I found a phone cabin to call the nice people at BABA. All efforts today proved unsuccessful, and as had previously been the case, it was impossible to get through. The only time I did get to speak to someone, they put me on hold and the line went dead five minutes later. After many attempts and what seemed like hours of listening to the same 'call-waiting' music, I was tearing my hair out and so gave up and went to find Nick. It was all very frustrating, I even called my parents to see if they could help, but BA's response in England was that all problems had to be sorted out locally (i.e. in Argentina). With me being quite upset by it all, Nick did the most sensible thing and took me to a nearby bakery where we stocked up on croissants and empanadas to take back to the hostel, and helped by the bottle of wine that Nick had bought when wine tasting on Saturday, I soon cheered up.

An hour or two later, and slightly tipsy from half a bottle of Malbec, we head out to dinner at a lovely little restaurant just up the road. Described as looking like a Hobbit house by Lonely Planet, it certainly was an interesting place, constructed of wood, and with two trees growing up through the middle of it, it wouldn't have looked out of place in Lord of the Rings. Predictably, Nick went for the steak (apparently the best yet), and I went for homemade tortelini with wild mushroom sauce, which really was extremely tasty. Along with fresh bread, dip and salad, all washed down with another bottle of wine, the short walk home seemed to be a lot longer than it actually was!

Back at the hostel, the music and shouting emanating up through the floor of our room was set to continue until the early hours and was quite annoying. Had it not been for the wine, I think sleeping would have been rather difficult, but quite tired, I was grateful for the evening's excessive alcohol intake and managed to get off to sleep without too much trouble.


Day 143: We might as well be in Switzerland....

Having got up late and missed the free hostel breakfast, we head into town for coffee and cake instead (yes, they have lots of cake here as well, not just chocolate and icecream). We were feeling in need of a little bit of exercise, and so went for a walk out of town, following signs to a ´chocolate museum´.

The chocolate museum was in fact a working chocolate factory, and although they didn't have any more guided tours in English that day, we were quite happy to amuse ourselves with a ride on the cable car next to the 'museum'. Without too much thought, we bought tickets, and were scooped up by the rickety cable car. I'm sure it wasn't meant to be scary, but as it juddered it's way up the mountainside, it certainly wasn't feeling like the safest trip we'd made to date. It was hard to know which was worse: looking up or looking down! Relieved to have reached the top, we stopped off at the cafe there for a drink and to admire the tremendous view out over the lakes and mountains.

Better for the refreshments, we were ready for the journey back down, a trip that fortunately wasn't going to involve being in a rickety carriage suspended from a rusty cable. After a short walk, we found the toboggan man, and having waited a few minutes for the two girls in front of us to clear, we got into our respective toboggans on parallel tracks, aiming to race each other to the bottom. It had been a good idea, and we both set off pretty quickly, but I soon encountered the problem that was the girl in front, who was cautiously edging down the track, often going so slowly that she actually stopped. It was very annoying, and subsequently it took rather a long time to reach the bottom, where I was the clear loser of the race through no fault of my own!

Dinner, as chosen by yours truly, was to be at La Marmite, a lovely little place in the centre of Bariloche. Suggested by Nick's misguided guidebook as being a bit shabby (it wasn't at all), it was a great, although very popular restaurant, and despite arriving at ten o'clock we still had a half hour wait at the bar for a table. Finally seated with our bottle of Malbec, we ordered the fondue and I was soon in cheesey heaven! Not content with being full of cheese, the meal was finished with a nice portion of homemade strudel and icecream. It may not have been traditional Argentinian cuisine, but it was one of the best dinners I've had for ages, and certainly quite different to the pasta I normally end up with!


Day 144: The uphill struggle to Refugio Lopez

I got up super early this morning (well, about eight o'clock), to go on a BABA mission. Although I managed to get through to them within half an hour, they weren't being terribly helpful, and told me that they still couldn't tell me how much the flights would cost, and could I call back tomorrow. To add insult to injury, the nasty man working in the phone cabin shop insisted that I had to pay, despite it being a free call. It's the only time that's happened, and first thing in the morning, it was rather annoying.

Yet again, Nick had a grumpy Emma to contend with, but fortunately this didn't last for too long, since we'd planned to go for a walk in the National Park, and with the prospect of getting out into the beautiful countryside, I couldn't stay miserable. Having bought some provisions, we found the bus stop, asked the driver to tell us when to get off, and found some seats. Although the bus was already pretty full, it stopped a few more times in Bariloche, and by the time it actually got out of town, it was positively heaving. Although I had managed to get the front seat, there were still about eight adults and children in front of me, standing on the stairs and clinging onto the railing, obscuring any possible view of the road in front. Not able to see anything, we just had to hope that the driver would remember to tell us when to get off. I was sitting on one side, and Nick on the other, and with a load of people crammed in between us, we weren't really able to communicate with each other either, but after forty-five minutes, both of us were fairly sure that we must have missed the stop. Fortunately that turned out not to be the case, and just as I was wondering where we were going to end up, the bus pulled up at the side of the road, and along with one or two other hikers, we squeezed our way through the crowds and off of the bus.

The route started to follow the river up through forest, and although not too steep initially, this quickly changed, and we were soon struggling up a fairly steep incline, looking up only to try and find the right path, and relatively scanty route markers. The path left the forest for a while, and led us up alongside fallen boulders, with a great view of the mountains and lakes behind us, before reentering deep beech forest, where we stopped for a much needed large bag of crisps and some water. After this, we somehow lost the right path for a while, and instead continued up a road for a little way until we reached it's end. By this time, we had glimpsed our destination in the distance, the pink and welcoming Refugio, situated high up on the mountain. Continuing on from where the road left off, we made our way along a path of sorts, crossing a stream at the foot of a mountain, reaching the final steep climb up to the building. We eventually arrived up at the refugio, and found a couple of other walkers and climbers already there. Rather than pay to go inside and use the facilities, we sat outside in the biting wind, eating croissants and empanadas, and admiring the fantastic view.

When the mountainside started to get a bit too cold, we began our descent, quite often encountering paths we didn't recognise, where we'd obviously taken the more interesting route on the way up! On steep paths, it's sometimes difficult to work out which is more difficult, going up or going down. Although the uphill had been a struggle, downhill was just quite painful, hurting my toes and Nick's dodgy knee (he is a bit older than me, bless him). There was definitely a collective reduction of spring in our step! That said, we obviously made it down eventually, and were grateful that the roadside kiosk at the bottom was open for refreshments. All-in-all, we'd managed the round trip, with an ascent of several hundred metres, in five hours, which as it turns out was not a bad time at all (at least the Argentinian couple we met at the bottom were impressed). Our next challenge was to get the bus back!

We'd got back in plenty of time to get the half-four bus back to Bariloche, and along with the Argentinian couple and an American girl, we waited expectantly at the bus stop for it to arrive. Half-past four came and went and the Argentinian guy went to ask at the kiosk if we had the right timetable. It turned out that although we had the right times, the bus only showed up sometimes! We were all set to go and get another drink whilst waiting for the next bus an hour later, when the original one finally showed up. Just as packed as it had been on the outbound journey, we squeezed on board, Nick clinging to the ceiling and me clinging onto Nick and our rucksack, trying not to fall onto the person sitting next to me or lose anything as the bus chugged up hills at a snailspace and then sped down the other side. It was all going so well, until we pulled into a bus stop and the bus finally gave up the ghost and shuddered to a halt. The driver tried a couple of times to get the engine going, but the bus wasn't going to cooperate and it soon became apparent that we weren't going anywhere. I'm not sure if this is a frequent occurrence, but noone on board seemed too put out by the bus breaking down, with most just filing off the bus to either hitch lifts to town, or wait at the side of the road for the next one. Fortunately we were back on the main slog back to Bariloche and so weren't reliant on the five-times daily number ten bus service. Soon enough, another bus showed up, and we all squished on (because there's always room for ten more), for a rather uncomfortable ride back to town.

Once again Bariloche cuisine didn't fail to disappoint as we went out for dinner at a cosy place up the road from the hostel, owned by an ex-ski champion. As is now almost always the norm, I had pasta and Nick went for the steak. Both were fantastic, with tonight's steak apparently topping all others. My rich mushroom ravioli was rather tasty as well! Wine and pudding were similarly fantastic. It's probably just as well we're not staying in Bariloche much longer else we'd probably end up leaving twice the size!


Day 145: The easier way to get views of the lakes

Having packed up and had breakfast, we managed to arrange a last minute horseriding session in the hills just outside Bariloche. Getting a taxi from the hostel, we were dropped off at the riding centre and introduced to our horses. Nick hadn't ridden a horse before and so got landed with one of the more placid animals. Mine, probably a mule in a previous life, wasn't quite so well-behaved, and did indeed have a mind of its own. Along with three Argentinian brothers and sisters on holiday in the Lake District, we followed a track up the side of one of the mountains eventually reaching a lovely lookout point, giving great views out over the mountains and lakes beyond. After a photo stop, we head back along the same route, dropping off the horses at the riding centre before getting a taxi back to town.

Our final lunch in a local touristy restaurant wasn't so impressive as previous meals, but was adequately compensated for by a visit to the cake shop for coffee and chocolate cake. I made my nearly daily call to BABA, who were as unhelpful as ever when I did finally get to speak to someone, telling me to call back tomorrow. (Am resigned to the fact that they are not going to change my ticket, so not quite so grumpy as I was at the beginning of the week, but I'm going to keep calling them anyway). The rest of the afternoon was dedicated to the not too arduous task of Easter Egg-tastic chocolate shopping, visiting almost every chocolate shop in the town, before heading back to the hostel where we collected our things and got a taxi to the airport for the two hour flight back to Buenos Aires.

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