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Published: April 27th 2008
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Since arriving in El Calafate we’d attempted to book a flight to our next destination, Bariloche, only to find the prices extortionate and it was looking like we were going to have to take a bus - not to worry the journey was only going to take 33 hours! So we reluctantly booked this, stocked up on Pringles & set off at around midnight on a Friday night.
The journey involved 3 different buses. The first was a 4 hour boneshaker south, i.e. the wrong way, to a place called Rio Gallegos (which was a dump). After a short stop here we proceeded to Comodoro Rivadavia, another dump. Here we had a 2 hour stopover so we headed off in search of food only to be, for the first time in my life, turned away from a restaurant! Two days growth, crumpled clothes & greasy hair obviously didn’t go down very well. I didn’t look too good either.
Hungry, we got on our next and final bus. The leg from Rio Gallegos to Comodoro had been “Full Cama” (Cama is Spanish for bed) & we’d had huge leather seats that reclined right back with masses of legroom. From Comodoro to
Bariloche was overnight & only semi-cama had been available. Still this wasn’t too bad and we managed to sleep reasonably well for most of the journey. Upon waking up the scenery had changed dramatically. During the previous leg there was absolutely nothing to look at but drab orange coloured earth and brush but now the countryside was beautiful, very green & mountainous with glittering lakes every few miles.
This carried on for a couple of hours only punctuated by a huge rubbish tip on the outskirts of Bariloche itself.
We had high hopes for this latest destination and, once we arrived at the bus station, these got even higher. In most towns, not just in Argentina but the world over, the bus station is generally in the worst area, populated by tramps & stinks of piss & bins. Here in Bariloche it’s set beside a beautiful lake!
We checked into our hostel, another MarcoPolo Inn and again the room was fine & even cheaper this time. The town centre of Bariloche is quite similar to El Calafate with a bit of an Alpine theme again but somehow a lot more authentic feeling. The day was Sunday and there was a
market and entertainment going on in the main square overlooking another big lake. As is the case in a lot of S America, they’ve neglected to cash in on such a spectacular setting and there was not a single bar or restaurant on this square taking advantage of the view.
Hungry, we found a small bar/restaurant where we had steak sandwiches with chips and salad for about £1.50 each. On the evening we ate at the hostel where dinner was included in the room rate & quite nice aswell, some kind of vegetable stew (it seemed like months since I’d had a meal with no meat!).
The following day we met up with an Aussie, Adam, who we’d met in Calafate & jumped on a bus to hire bikes for a ride called “Circuito Chico” which is 35km through a nearby national park.
Having not ridden bikes since we were about 15, we were both a little shaky to start with but then started to enjoy it as we got going (especially the downhill bits). Every mile or two we’d stop pff at a lake or a river. This was fine until we stopped at one place where getting to
a lake involved a 20 minute walk and we’d have to lock the bikes with the chain provided by the rental company. As Adam locked the 3 together the key snapped! Neither me or Adam could get anywhere near unlocking it (obviously his ancestor wasn’t sent to Oz for B&E). Luckily there was some kind of information office across the road where they were bound to have a phone - they didn’t (or weren’t admitting to having one) & I had no reception on my mobile!
Eventually, I got a little bit of reception and got through & someone arrived to unlock us. I looked after the new lock.
The ride mainly consisted of steep hills, very few flat stretches. Going down was fantastic & we must have hit speeds of 40 mph at some points but going up was a killer. You’d try and build up as much speed as possible going downhill to make it up the other side, think you were going to do it and then just stop dead suddenly halfway up and have to labour up the remainder, or walk (as we usually did).
We continued the ride until we arrived, knackered, at an area
at the top of a huge hill with views over the whole park that were simply stunning & made the hard work & saddle soreness seem worth it. From here we jumped on a bus back to Bariloche only to realise after 2 or 3 stops that Rachael had left her bag in the bus shelter so, after a 35km bike ride, I then had to run half a mile back. Luckily the bag was still there. I considered going for a swim aswell so I could say I’d done my first triathlon but decided against it.
We ate in the hostel again that night, Cottage Pie, but I was literally too tired to finish it (Rachael, naturally, had no problem) and we went to bed at around 9pm!
For the following day we had booked a Kayaking & Horseriding trip.
The Kayaking was good, the lake was perfectly calm & very peaceful at that time of the morning. Rachael spoiled it though when she wouldn’t let me do an Eskimo roll. It took about 2 hours from one side of the lake to the other and back again at which point we had lunch on the “beach”.
After this
we went on the horse ride. I’ve never ridden a horse before and never really wanted to. Rachael has as a child but not for many years.
We were introduced to a gaucho who’d be taking us out who, in turn, introduced us to our horses - mine was called Carmelo, I forget the name of Rachaels. We sat on them and awaited our lesson & our helmets, we got neither and just simply set off instead. Not only were we given no idea what to do, after about 3 uneasy minutes he then asks us if we want to trot! We nervously said yes and off we went. It looks so easy in Cowboy films but isn’t & luckily my horse slowed immediately as I pulled on the reins.
The ride was through a little bit of countryside then along, and into, a lake. From the lake we proceeded up into some quite steep hills which I was quite enjoying until it occurred to me that we’d have to come down again! As it happened coming down wasn’t so bad and by now I was getting cocky. As we again rode by the lake I decided to get the
horse to trot myself. After a few seconds I was falling off to the left in installments to Rachael’s amusement & just managed to stop in time to stay on.
I’ve done it now but much prefer a bike or a car. As Karl Pilkington might say - “Horses, do we really need them?”
The next day we had another bus booked (a mere 18 hours this time) to Mendoza - Wine Country!
The staff at this hostel were again very good, particularly Giselle. As we’d stayed at this same companies hostels 3 times in a row now I asked her to see if she could book us into one of theirs in Mendoza. They had 2 or 3 but she was struggling to find us a bed. Rather than phone she was speaking to someone there via MSN Messenger so I could see the whole conversation (albeit in Spanish). The person at the other end seemed reluctant to take the booking but she swung it by saying “He’s very nice and will buy lots of beer”! I congratulated her on her excellent observation skills.
While Iguazu Falls was the most beautiful “thing” we’d seen so far, Bariloche is definitely
the most beautiful place.
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