Taking it slow through the Lakes District


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Published: December 9th 2010
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Kyle

As Tahlei explained in our previous blog, it was in San Rafael where we said our tearful goodbyes to Blake and Rhiannon. It wasn't just the thought of not seeing them again for over a month that made us well-up with emotion, it was also the prospect of being stuck on a bus for the next day or so. We had all planned to do such epic mileage over the next few days it would have even the most seasoned traveller on the verge of breakdown by the end of it. Blake and Rhiannon were doing almost half the length of Argentina and the whole of Bolivia in 5 days. If they were still talking by the end of it they did well. We had the slightly less unenviable task of covering about 800km in 17 hours (this includes a 4 hour stopover at a bus station in the middle of nowhere). In a country as big as Argentina you find yourself travelling huge distances at a time as you make your way between it's main tourist destinations. Having said that, in the last 15 days we have come a measly 200km; from Junín de los Andes down to
Camping amidst the sheepCamping amidst the sheepCamping amidst the sheep

We've been woken during the night a few times to the sounds of various farm animals chewing outside our tent
Bariloche, taking in the famed 7 Lakes Way and a few little detours here and there. Why have we spent so much time in the Lakes District of Argentina? Well, it's a very difficult place to leave considering the stunning scenery, the genuinely friendly people and amount of beautiful campsites.

We may have been daunted by the logistics of getting to the Lakes District, but we were still excited by the thought of camping for the next few weeks along the shores of the countless rivers and lakes of northern Patagonia. Tahlei and I don't normally do youth hostels, so the last couple of weeks staying in dorms and having to make idle chit-chat with the strange people who often frequent these establishments had us eager to return to the wide open space, peace and quiet camping allows. Our first couple of nights camping in northern Argentina was just a tease, we were now ready to go all out and camp every night possible. And that's exactly what we did. We camped every one of the 15 nights we stayed in the Lakes Disctrict. We woke up when it got light, went to bed when it got dark, and cooked enough asados (bbq's) to ensure we have the hardest of hard arteries.

We began our fortnight of lake-loving in the small town of Junín de los Andes, the trout capital of Argentina. Not being huge fans of trout, or fishing for it, we spent our days relaxing around the campsite. The campsite itself was located on a small island in a fast-flowing crystal clear river. The water was so clear it made you want to dive right in, but the temperature made you want to stay well away. The grounds were grassy, well-shaded and had an abundance of parrillas. When we weren't simply relaxing around Camping Laura Vicuña we were cooking huge asados with enough meat to feed an army. Our first foray into the Argetinean national past-time of barbecuing was a disasterous affair. Burnt on the outside, too rare on the inside and a texture akin to chewing gum. To this day I still refuse to blame my barbecuing skills for our initial failure, but rather believe it was our choice of meat cuts. The cheapest cut you can buy is tapa de asado and being so it's the one we always get. However since that first
matematemate

on the lake
attempt we've had nothing but success with it, so maybe my logic is a little flawed.

On our frequent trips to the local supermarket we not only filled our basket with meat and wine, we also got into the habit of buying yerba mate. This is the traditional tea-like drink you see all Argentineans sipping out of a gourd. Tahlei bought such a gourd (the mate), along with the necessary bombilla (silver straw) and the cheapest yerba she could find. It's bitter to say the least. I don't know why all the nation drinks it - I suspect it has become a national symbol and people drink it even when they don't like it (think Vegemite). No matter what you think of it, it's impossible to escape. Everyone carries their mate and thermos of hot water with them. Most bars, restaurants and cafes will happily fill your thermos for free, and many bus stations have free hot water dispensors. We've taken to drink it most days now, albeit with a tablespoon of sugar.

Unlike all other South American countries, here in Argentina the stray dogs are actually friendly. Here they don't want one of your limbs, they just want your affection. In Junín we were befriended by an old, mostly-labrador mut who loved to jump up on me and wrestle around. His love of wrestling had us christen him Mickey Rourke. Mickey was won over by us on the very first night when we regaled him with about 600g of unedible meat from the afforementioned barbecue debut. From then on he never left my side.

Junín was a quaint, laid-back little town with not a whole lot going on - three nights was more than enough. However, one day when we were strolling through the main plaza we noticed 20-odd vintage cars - there were Bentleys, Aston Martons, Ferraris and Merc's. They all sported a sticker exclaiming "The Jewell that is South America, November 2010", which led us to investigate further. We found out these rich bastards were a group of European motoring enthusiasts who paid in the order of $35,000 for a week-long (yes, only a week) tour with their cars, staying in the finest hotels on offer. The tour primarily visits the Lakes District of Argentina and a few stops over the Chilean border. We thought it's funny they only visited Chile and Argentina, the two most European-like coutries in South America.

From Junín we made our way to Lago Huechulafquen. It is a picture-perfect lake, with turquoise waters and huge snow-capped peaks rising steeply from all sides. It's how I imagine Lake Como in Italy looked 200 years ago. From the lake you get an uninterrupted view of Volcano Lanín, supposedly one of the world's most beautiful mountains. We weren't able to pass judgement on this claim as for the two days we were at Lago Huechulafquen it rained bucket-loads and blew a gail. Despite this fact it was still an amazingly beautiful place and we got to stay at one of the most scenically situated campsites we've been at.

Because our plan to walk to the base of the volcano was in disarray, and the possibility of cooking lunch was thwarted by sideways rain, we decided to seek shelter from the elements and went in search of a restaurant on the shore of the lake. We didn't hold out much hope as the only structures built around the lake are tiny shacks the indigineous folk live in and campsite toilet blocks. We wanted to try our luck anyway, at least the
Cerro Los AngelesCerro Los AngelesCerro Los Angeles

in the background, Huechulafquen
walk would get the blood flowing through our frozen limbs again. We headed for Puerto Canoa which being a significantly sized dot on the map would be a settlement of some sort, or at least show some sign of life. However, all we found was an abandoned Park Rangers hut with a huge dog, that looked like a tiger, sniffing around.

Luckily a few hundred metres down the road we spotted a sign for a restaurant. Barely daring to hope we battled the driving rain and trudged down the driveway. We must have looked a sorry sight, for as soon as we entered we were invited to dry our jackets, shoes and hats by the fire. At the behest of Sebastian, the hotel's manager, we immediately made ourselves at home at Hostería Huechulafqen. Poor Sebastian must have appreciated the human interaction as he had been cooped up in the hotel all by himself for the last three days and with the weather the way it was all he could do was read half a dozen books. After a sumptuous lunch of beef and goulash he was nice enough to take us on a quick tour of the lake in the comfort of his heated 4x4. We visited a couple of waterfalls, a church that looks like it's straight out of a fairytale and a few other places of interest. Upon returning from our little tour we had a huge slice of dulce de leche and chocolate cake with hot tea waiting for us in the toasty warm sitting room. Sebastian and Hostería Huechulafqen saved our day and we were sad to say goodbye and head back out into the cold. Before leaving we exchanged details with Sebastian so we can hopefully meet up in Buenos Aires, plus he gave us a bottle of wine to dull our senses against the weather.

By the end of our two nights on Lago Huechulafquen we were frozen to the core and all of our belongings were either wet or smelled heavily of smoke. Unfortunately there are only three buses a week connecting the lake with Junìn and since we didn't want to wait around until 6pm in the wind and rain we opted to try and hitch-hike for only our third time ever. We first hitch-hiked in Thailand when we missed the last bus back to Kanchanaburi from Erawan Waterfalls and
Julia, Juana and JanoJulia, Juana and JanoJulia, Juana and Jano

our ride, meal and teachers of all things Argentinian
had no choice but to hitch a ride with a ute full of drunk locals. Our second time was when we were stranded half way to Playa Blanca in Colombia and a friendly young family stopped to give us a lift. We'd had a 100%!s(MISSING)uccess rate with hitching and had luckily not encountered any Milat types. Buoyed by the strike rate we'd been blessed with so far we started off walking along the road in high spirits, sticking our thumb out at the occasional car. However, our efforts seemed in vain as we had been walking for about an hour and a half before anyone stopped for us.

Who had stopped for us was Julia - from Córdoba, Juana - from Buenos Aires, and their 2 month old pitbull puppy Jano. As coincidence would have it they had stayed the previous night at Hostería Huechulafquen, where Sebastian told them of two water-logged Australians camping in the area. We squashed into the back seat of their tiny little car and set off for San Martín de los Andes. Along the way the girls passed on to us a wealth of knowledge, from which is the best quality yerba (turns out we'd been drinking rubbish to this point) to what are the best bands to listen to in Argentina. We all got along so well that we ended up camping with them that night at a deserted campsite on Lago Lolog (15 kilometres from San Martín). It was here where our fortunes in weather changed. By late afternoon the clouds had parted and that night we had a starry sky and full moon to cast an atmospheric glow over our biggest asado yet. Julia took charge and raced around cooking copious amounts of meat over a huge fire - we enjoyed vacio, some tender tapa de asado, salchichas, and our favourite - costillas de cerdo. Yum.

In the morning the girls continued their weekend trip and dropped us at the campsite in San Martín de los Andes, leaving us with a CD of their favourite music as a keepsake of our meeting. We ended up staying five nights at camping Amigos de la Naturaleza; not out of choice but rather due to the roadworks being done on the 7 Lakes Way, preventing us from moving on for several days. We can't say much about our time there that we haven't already said about other places. It's beautiful, and all we did was relax and cook huge barbecues. We couldn't do much in the town anyway, as it's quite an upmarket, fancy ski resort type place, but we did at least sample some of the famous chocolate at Abuela Goye and frequented one heladería, Abolengo, that was half the price of all the others. Having started to feel the effects of so much meat and ice cream we bit the bullet and paid 40 pesos each to rent bikes fo a half day excursion round Lago Lácar to a small beach 5 kilometres away. The way there was tough going as it was mostly uphill and into the wind - we vowed to only eat salads for the coming week, a promise we didn't keep. Our efforts were rewarded when we arrived at the lovely beach with a beautiful clear river flowing into it. It was good to get a bit of a sweat up but it was more fun on the way back, downhill and with the wind at our backs.

Finally the road was open and we were able to take a bus to our next destination on Lago Falkner. It's not called the 7 Lakes Way for nothing. On the way we passed majestic, glassy lakes reflecting the snowy Andean peaks on their mirrored surfaces. This was just a taste of things to come. We alone got off the bus at the side of the road where there is nothing but the grassy campsite on the shores of the lake. We had brought enough food for one day; a decision we immediately regretted as we wanted to stay longer after taking one look at the gorgeous scenery. Luckily the campsite had a few basic provisions; we were going to be having spaghetti with tomato sauce for the next four meals, but the view more than made up for that. The campsite enjoyed a priviledged position on a long, sandy beach, with each site a mere three metres from the water's edge. I would try to explain how beautiful it was but a photo does it better. It was not quite as beautiful as Lago Huechulafquen but the weather was infinitely better - the second day was cloudless and hot and we took advantage of this to walk 15 minutes back up the road to a waterfall.
WaterfallWaterfallWaterfall

near Lago Falkner
It was set amongst wildflowers in a forested valley with mountains all around. The next day just after we boarded the bus to continue on our way we caught glimpses of Lago Villarino and regretted not walking ten minutes in the other direction - it was equally as spectacular as anything we had seen so far.

After a week of good weather the wind and rain were back, waiting for us at Villa La Angostura. The two days we spent here were enough to have us pining for warmth and was one of the reason for contemplating a move to the coast. Another reason was the town itself, which, like San Martín is a fancy ski-resort, but more pretentious. We felt the best of the lakes district was behind us so it became our last stop in this part of the world. Although we had originally planned to spend some time in Bariloche, the capital of the lakes district, the weather became too much and we merely changed buses there. While Villa La Angostura was not our favourite place, the campsite Unquehue was the best organised and with the most facilities of those that we have stayed at. The main attraction is the nearby Parque Nacional Los Arrayanes, a small peninsula of land with a forest of rare trees, but at 80 pesos (about $20) to enter we thought it was a bit steep and made do with lunch in a park on the shores of Lago Nahuel Huapi.

At this stage of our trip we are keen to slow down and take it easy, but still make the most of the time we have left. The lakes district fulfilled these needs perfectly. We were able to relax, do things at our own pace and avoid long bus trips, all the while enjoying some of the most amazing scenery of our whole trip. It was like a holiday within a holiday. I'm sure we'll look back on this as one of the highlights of our South American adventure.


Additional photos below
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BarilocheBariloche
Bariloche

from afar
Waiting at the bus stopWaiting at the bus stop
Waiting at the bus stop

one of the more scenic bus stops we've seen
Lago LácarLago Lácar
Lago Lácar

becah that we rode to
The beachThe beach
The beach

Lago Falkner
Mirror surfaceMirror surface
Mirror surface

Along the 7 Lakes Way


11th December 2010

camping
Makes you wanna just pack up and go camping.

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