Across Argentina in a Renault Kangoo

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Our initiation into the land of Diego Maradona, Carlos Gardel and Evita Peron was anything but uneventful.

The journey across the border from Pucon to Bariloche involved switching buses in Osorno. But when i raised my eyes from my book to gaze at the scenery it was hampered by plumes of smoke billowing from the back of the bus. A 45 minute wait for a replacement bus to arrive was to leave us late for the second bus to take us over the border. But, with some cobbled together Spanish and eccentric hand maneouvres, the driver got the picture and phoned ahead to Osorno to have the bus wait. Needless to say we made the bus, not without some nasty stares from the passengers i may add.

Bariloche was very enjoyable. Our hostel had a panoramic view of the lake which was set against rolling hills all around. Similar to an Alpine resort it also offered the best chocolate in Argentina. Every second shop was devoted solely to chocolate. Ailie was in heaven...I was only in heaven when being fed a huge steak...seriously massive.

We toyed with the idea of heading south to the Perito Moreno glacier but because the length of time it would take to get there given we have little time left we decided on going east to Puerto Madryn to catch a glimpse of whales and sea lions.

Yet our tenous realtionship with the buses was not over. Thinking we were arriving in good time for our 6pm bus, it was, in fact 7pm. We had not realised that we had to move forward one hour on crossing the border! Idiots! With my head in my hands lying on the bus station´s information desk, the bus company representative sympathised with our grievous error and beckoned some shady character. If we paid 400pesos, he would drive us to Esquel, 300km south, where our bus was due to stop in two and a half hours. We agreed given that we had little alternative. Strapped in very tightly, Daniel, the driver, sped off into the night, racing around lakes and mountains at breakneck speed and overtaking oil tankers just before oncoming traffic caught us. It was squeaky bum time. He never fell below 100k/h on a bend and on a straight stretch he reached 170k/h. Without a word of a lie, i believed we had just signed our death certificate...We made it fifteen minutes ahead of our bus.

There was to be no drama in Puerto Madryn. It was as if we had flown home to visit Troon, which was a seriously depressing thought!
Famous for viewing whales, we arrived in the off-season so our chances of seeing one were slim. We took the tour anyway on the day Celtic beat Rangers 3-2. I had my phone with me to get updates but the signal disappeared. I was not happy. What transpired was hours of driving to watch sea lions and elephant seals (big grey jobbies) sleeping! Imagine that, i miss an Old Firm game for this! How can i go on living? Ashamed.

And after two days, we called it time up and headed north towards Buenos Aires.

P.S. Our travels have attracted attention from unexpected areas of the world and like a Clyde 1 DJ, we would like to give a big shout out to the Triton Boys on a rig somewhere in the North Sea!

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