Welcome to Bariloche - argentinian home of chocolate and uncomfortable bike saddles...

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After Antartica, there was only one way to go, so after a final night out in Ushuaia (which meant not everyone made their early morning buses), we headed north to El Calafyate. Thanks to Aerolineas Argentinas habit of resheduling flights, our 1 o'clock departure was moved to 4, meaning we arrived in the town slightly too late to make it worthwhile to take a quick trip out to the Perito Moreno glacier (despite the valient efforts of the taxi driver to presuade us otherwise). No big deal, we saw plenty in Antarctica, and can always come back another time.

I'd heard lots of negative reports about El Calafate, so arrived with low expectations of the place. However, it wasn't the nightmare I expected. Undoubtedly, it's a very strange little town, solely grown to serve the needs of the tourists coming to see the glacier. Although why they think we all want gnome figurines, toy sheep and Patagonia fleeces in garish colours is beyond me. It reminded me of Eurodisney, or perhaps the centre of West Palm Beach - prettily done, but completely fake. However, along with a friend from the ship, we only intended to stay one night, and all had a quiet night in, before catching early buses back out.

Since Antarctica had knocked our schedule out a bit, we elected to take the 2 day Ruta 40 up to Bariloche, instead of going trekking in El Chalten or Torres del Paine, as originally planned. More things to do next time round instead (hopefully at the end of our whole trip). With trepidation, we got to the station, to be pleasantly surpised by the bus and settled in for the 12 hour stretch. Unfortunately, after 2 hours we had to change to another bus, which gave me the unenviable opportunity to spend 10 hours sitting amongst a group of Isreali's who seemed to think they were on a school trip. Praise be to the inventor of the iPod is all I'm going to say about it. The journey itself passed reasonably quickly, with more varied scenery than anticipated and regular stops, including one because the driver wanted to pick blueberries (very tasty). Not something you could imagine a National Express driver doing back home.

Paying extra to take the Ruta 40 was certainly worthwhile, as it gave us an overnight stop in the sleepy town of Perito Moreno, with the opportunity for a much needed shower, proper bed, and of course, steak for dinner (back to cheap prices after Tierra del Fuego). The journey continued in a much smaller bus the next day, as we all inhaled large amounts of the dust from the ripio roads, but thankfully most of the journey was on proper roads. We were back in the countryside of miles of nothingness, with only dust, scrubby little bushes, weird rock formations and the odd guanaco or three to break up the view. Occassionally trees would appear and a house, located about 3 hours from the nearest settlement. Certainly must make them think very carefully about what they need when they go shopping. No popping round the corner on a whim for a newspaper and some chocolate.

As we neared El Bolson, the landscape changed dramatically, into lush, green and mountainous territory and we began to feel the end was in sight. 3 hours later, after the chance to see thousands of stars in a non-light polluted sky, we finally made it to Bariloche, yet felt somewhat displaced given that the town looks like it's on loan from the Alps, with wooden chalet style houses overlooking the lakes and a backdrop of mountains all around. It took me a few days to settle in there, and even now, looking back, I don't really have much fondness for the actual town. It's in a stunning setting and there are lots of things to do in the area, but we didn't really take to the town. Even the famous chocolate shops were almost a disappointment. As a fan of dark chocolate, the sweet smell of mainly milk and white chocolate (doubtless filled with dulce de leche) simply made me feel queasy. As a nation, Argentinians have a very sweet tooth (when they're not adding salt to everything that is). Nevertheless, it was rather impressive to see their dedication to chocolate, with shops the size of my local supermarket. Top marks to the ice-creams though!

Arriving late, we took the first hostel we could find, but moved the next day to the luxury of a double en-suite room in another hostel, where we encountered an American we knew from Ushuaia, and, it being a rainy day, we proceeded to renew our acquintance later over some cervezas artesanales. There are several decent microbreweries in the area, and you can even get 'Scotch' ale which had some blurb on the label about it being 'born in Scotland, where the barley grows well in the wetter climate'. Tasted pretty fine anyway.

Thankfully the sun came out the next day, so we no longer felt like we were in Cumbria, huddling in our raincoats. We headed to Cerro Catedral which is apparently the top ski resort in South America, and shunned the ski-lift option for a hike up the top instead, to some great views over the lakes. Very odd to see wild rhubarb, thistles and bamboo growing on the side of an argentinian ski-resort though.

The next day our quest to burn off the weight put on on the boat continued, as we hired bikes for a 60km cycle on the so called Circuto Chico. Despite the crazy dogs, even crazier bus drivers and pot holes, it was a fantastic way to spend the day, giving us the freedom to stop wherever we wanted. In the section after Llau-Llau hotel we paused to look at a smaller lake below and could hear nothing except the humm of the insects in the wood - bliss.




The 18 months of commuting certainly paid off, as our legs coped easily with the hills up to the utimate Punto Panoramico, with views of lakes upon lakes and mountains as far as the eye could see. However, we did have to deal with the pain caused by the most uncomfortable bike seats in the world. Now I remember why I forked out so much for a gel-filled, 'female-specific' saddle for my own bike. Needless to say, the plans to go horse riding the next day were put on hold until sitting down became easier....

A quiet Sunday was spent fixing our craving for curry. After 5 weeks of non-spicy food, we finally cracked and after a few hours searchinf}g supermarets and greengrocers, finally managed to get enough spices to make a passable curry, which we shared with the only other Brit in the hostel. The argentines were interested in our quest, but found it to be too rich for their palates. Our cravings sated, we went to bed happy, if stuffed.

The last few days were spent fairly quietly, apart from a trip in the tiny cable cars to Cerro Otto for more nice views and coffee in the revolving restauant at the top. This was actually a rather disconcerting experience, with Luke complaining it was like being on the ship again with the shifting horizon. Even more weird was the Michaelangelo gallery, with massive replicas of David etc, compete with a copy of the fig leaf created to hide his modesty when Queen Elizabeth visited the original.




Although we didn't take to Barioche (not helped by constantly being followed around town by dogs), we stayed in a very friendly hostel, run by an Argentinan of Germanic decent, which lead to lots of odd tri-lingual conversations. It was also nice to be around lots of Agentinian/ South American travellers, giving an opportunity to try out our spanish again, share in a fantastic asado and in Luke's case, the chance to borrow a guitar for a short session. However, after 6 days, it was time to pick up our rucksacks and head north again. Off to Mendoza, for some wine-tasting and sunshine. Sounds like a nice place to spend my birthday....

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