Crossing the Andes version 1

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The lake district of Chile and Argentina is a rich tapestry of valleys, desert like high passes, swamplands, peat bogs and miles of forest filled with the distinctive Araucania tree.

An overnight in San Martin entertained by people watching and performers in the town square, lead to an early start at 5.30am the next day, to make the 6am bus to Chile and a crossing of the Andes for the first time. Failed taxi reservation meant a speedy exit from hosteria – rule #1, expect the unexpected, to be worse elsewhere I’m told. The bus picked up many stragglers from the don’t-bother-going town of Junin de los Andes, and it went from 4 aboard without a clue as to time frames to standing room only. 2 hours later we made Mamuil Malal pass, entering the Lanin National Park, site of Volcano Lanin and several lakes. 1 hour at Chilean customs later, we headed 5 km or so to quarantine, where we spent another 1 hour waiting out luggage checks and dealing to border formalities. Chile is stricter evidently due to vested interest in their regional horticulture – that was the Argentinean story anyway. Or just to irritate us.

Clearly behind the bus schedule, a bumpy steep gravel road met us into a stunning area of lakeland and forest. Welome to Chile, just be sure not to fall over the cliff edges as you sit in the bus to the border settlements of Puesco or Currarrehue. Once here, it was only 40km to Pucon (said ‘Poo-kon’), descending gently down the gorge and into a valley of orchards, rivers and volcanic peaks. Closer to Temuco than I felt comfortable with (recent earthquake 10 days before, perhaps the media catastrophised it back in NZ), I spent 2 days in the region, one up in the valley of Huerquehue national park at an isolated refugio (Refugio Tinquilco) and the other at a lovely hostel in town with resident corgie ‘Cortitos’, 3 blocks down Colo Colo road to the San Martin buses ‘parada’ (bus stop)

Realising there were limited buses to the park and that my arrival was delayed, and the thought of carrying 17kg plus front pack up a supposedly flat road to the refugio put me off…. . I reached a compromise of checking into the Pucon hostel earlier to stash luggage for my return, get some fresh stuff for self catering at refugio (cannot cross border with perishables), some Chilean pesos to pay cash (no ATM cash worries here, but still little credit acceptance!) and make the bus in time from JAC bus terminal. 30km and 1 hr to travel to it later reaches the park entrance, where a 4000 peso fee is charged for all walks.

Greeted thankfully by refugio owner in his ute for another person, we got along the pot holed road fairly comfortably and settled in, a new friend made on the way who knew my travel buddy for March! Small world. Feeling lazy despite excellent weather, I tackled the 1 hr slog of mirador Quinchol, and that was pushing it mentally and physically. Steep, gut busting, but fabulous views of Villarica (although you need not climb this far for a view as it is visible in town on clear days). New Finnish friends met that evening and a great sleep on dorm bed, I set out to tackle miradors 1,2, two waterfalls, and tres (3) lagos trail the next day up the valley. Glad to be under a canopy of tall Araucania and nothofagus trees, this kept the increasing mist and rain at bay until Lago Toro, where I met 2 English travelers who’d been on the go for 8 months and decided together to turn back after photos and swap travel stories as we went.

A well earned Termas at Loa Pozones 35km east of Pucon that night was in order after a dreary wet 25 minute walk in heavy rain to meet the 2.15pm bus at the park entrance. Pucon grew on me once I dried out, at a time when too much of a good thing (national parks, tranquility) can be bad when you hanker for English conversation. It was a blend of tourist touting, triathlon madness (3 events planned over the 3 days after I left), street side stalls outside the supermarkets with women shelling peas or selling raspberries, a few dreadlocked folk selling trinkets, then of course the ritzy shops selling snow paraphernalia for winter season. A sporting town.

Departing it was another exercise of failed communication. Omnilineas in their wisdom of booking tickets online, insist on stating departures for San Martin de los Andes leave at 9.35am from Pucon. Therein lies problem 1 – it is 10.35am, and the reason being I was told “because Argentina is one hour behind”. Surely Buenos Aires where the company is based is one hour ahead if anything! Problem 2 is actually locating where Omnilineas state you travel with. The ticket says Tramat, and also ‘San Martin’. The tourist centre knew nothing. The hostel was not open as it said it would be even at 9am. I knew there were 2 stations in town – JAC and Turbus, with small operators allied to those areas servicing the highlands or villages. In short you get better advice by walking aimlessly and asking a local, or another bus operator. In 2nd short the next bus was made and became a seemless version compared to the over leg, exiting Chile easily and entering Argentina via Mamuil Malal pass. ‘The Argentineans are welcoming people’ I was told.

Another afternoon and evening in San martin de los Andes was required, plus a quaint town to hang in for the time, much like Wanaka or Queenstown in NZ. It was lovely fine (despajado) weather for beaching lakeside, a forest jog high above the town towards northern and southern flanks on 2 occasions (miradors Antonio Bannadurias and Arrayan were worth it), wandering the shops for wool necklaces, glass earrings or organic nueces (nuts), and relaxing which I need more of. As usual several folk were met and chances to practice my Espanol made, which lingers at the modestly incoherent end of language spectrum.

Having passed through Bariloche and since spent 3 days in that city, prior to the above, I would rather stay in San martin or Pucon longer, but when schedules for my group trip are set, I have not the flexibility like some ‘6 or more month travellers’ I have met. Touristy and noisy hotel later, it has many attractions. A plan made to find a decent pool for a swim after a 1 month hiatus, ideal on a 10C day with scrawly rain and snow fall on the hills, was fulfilled. Great facilities, more than I was used to at home at a private regional pool with namesake of the major lake, Nahuel Huapi. 7 lakes is the major attraction of Bariloche, seen on way to San Martin, and scenery spectacular outside main drag of 12 de Octobre. I made it to Cerro Campanario on local bus #20, meandered the local beach (playa), part way to cerro Otto on the city’s hillsides, and some lingering in centro civico amongst the rose bushes and cathedral. From the highest points you can see Lagos Nahuel Huapi, Perito Moreno, Brazo Campanario and Este/ Oeste amongst others, and into the municipal park of Llao Llao, Bahia Lopez or Cerro Lopez.

Exhausted again, next day was contingency travel day, the day I joined the Gap tour in Buenos Aires. Rule 2 – in big city now, be cautious. And Rule 3 – try Tango, or at least watch it done properly as I value my back and spine. Our small group of 6 (mainly Australian!) spread out for the evening, some electing to miss the meeting altogether and others for some simple Italian food. Our leader, myself and an Australian guy went to this Complejo Tango show with dinner, 10 minutes by taxi from town. It was a fantastically theatrical and passionate performance of the language and history of Tango over the past 120 years since it’s inception. Intense sun and smoggy air greeted us in the morning for a slightly nauseating jog to the main green spaces of Palermo. Locals being called ‘Porteńos’, I navigated my way amongst the throngs along a lattice of broad avenues lined by trees, watching as locals steered their way to work, loiter with a coffee or pastry, or linger to drink a beer! The architecture in the eastern side outside central and Palermo areas is even more impressive, particularly Congresso. To be avoided was La Boca, evidently, a risky hangout for gringos. Our leader has all the goss!

But the flight to Salta was not to be blessed with efficiency contrary to Aerolineas’ reputation! Having checked out at 9.30am from BA hotel and checked in for an 11.40am flight by 10am, the group of 6 (one who went off on her own without telling us so ensuing a search of the entire airport without success) we spent 2 plus hours waiting out a late plane arrival, making our time in Salta that afternoon precious given the next 2 days adventures planned (Cafayate and early departure for Chile, our 2nd approach to the Andes, on 20th January). So after a quivk introduction by our Argentinean leader, we dispersed for food, or sightseeing – I chose to go up San Bernado hill via 1070 steps, and what a view! In between buying fresh local figs, a mango, loitering in jewelry shops talking to shopkeepers about NZ when they asked, buying a new money belt, stocking up on water and provisions for coming remote area touring and admiring the many European facades, frescos, and historical or religious architecture…it was time for a sweet night under the covers. That siesta, so elusive, isn’t happening on this trip it seems.

Inland northern Argentina and the vast salt flats and desert of Chile and Bolivia come next.

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Photos

Lago Nahuel Huapi, Bariloche
there is 700,000 hectars of lakelan and montanas here, simply stunning but in a slightly tacky touristy city way

At Cerro Catedral
There were even the equivalent pesty keas (hawks) cavorting in the wind Argentinean style

The highlight of my time in BA, watching zorro and Catherine Zeta Jones tango
..amongst the other beautiful people

1070 steps of proof in Salta
...shame on the Argetineans, where are all the fit people here?