San Carlos de Bariloche (Argentina)
16 April - 19 April 2015
16 April - 19 April 2015
An 18hr overnight bus ride from El Calafate via a stop in Rio Gallegos and we were in San Carlos de Bariloche, a town situated on the shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi sitting under the cover and watchful eye of the magnificent Andes. Five years ago as I was travelling through this region I became so enamoured with this place that eventually I rued the decision to turn the 180 degrees at the critical moment of reckoning and head north when all of Patagonia was calling me to travel further into its depths. Not that I was complaining about that decision now, all things have a reason associated with them and I guess my time for Patagonia was slated for right now rather than then.
On the road to Bariloche - somewhere in Patagonia - Argentina
Arriving after nearly a day sitting within the confines of our road transit chariot we cruised in during the early evening in Bariloche on a night filled with a slight chill and intermittent drizzle. Grabbing our bags and jumping into the nearest cab we made our way from the bus station through downtown Bariloche, via an ATM pitstop, to the Green House hostel on Avenida Exequiel Bustillo, somewhere around kilometre marker 4.6. Truth be told, this hostel stop was somewhat of a rarity for us. During the 3.5 months that we were away we didn’t really end up staying at too many hostels on our travels, but as far as they go, this was one was actually a pretty good. We had what I considered to be a really cool room, an attic style abode that that was particularly comfortable and had Eastern facing windows which I discovered in the morning looked out over the lake Nahuel Huapi and accepted a hell of a lot of sunshine in its early hours.
Breakfast at the Green House hostel - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Attic room - Green House hostel - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Attic room - Green House hostel - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Now there seems to be two main ways to appreciate Bariloche, you can in fact remain mostly indoors, within the confines of its many chocolateries, gorging yourself on a chestnut, or ginger & hazel, or burnt-sienna sepia toned Dianthus flaked chocolate construct whilst downing a light hot chocolate and taste testing the latest version of the new and improved dulche de leche, OR, you can get yourself outdoors, be active and 'do stuff'. I mean no prizes for guessing what we did! That's not to say a chocolate appreciation hour didn't arise at some point but for us but if it involves being active then the assumption can be made that we'll be signing up first and foremost. It only took a quick read of a few pamphlets in the hostel for us to select the Circuito Chico Mountain Bike company and we were away.
A few kilomteres up Avenida Exequiel Bustillo, almost on the 19km marker, we got around to hiring our bikes in order to take on the 40km+ Circuito Chico (small circuit). Now the conditions of hire were that to ride around in this part of the world you were required to look like the construction worker from the village people, apparently that's how mountain bikers roll here. With a blisteringly fierce orange vest that would have put City Rail workers to shame and a bike helmet that was straight out of the 1980's movie BMX bandits, it was with a dose of awkwardness and shame that we pushed off into the beautifully forested peninsulas that stretch out into Nahuel Huapi lake.
Village People bandits - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Construction works sucks
Without question the scenery is beautiful, it just is, but on the day that we were out riding it was overcast, windy and we naturally made comparisons between here and the areas of El Chalten &Torres del Paine, which are just on another level entirely. To do that admittedly is also to treat Bariloche harshly and the place cater for different things. Other than natural beauty this area is something entirely different in that it has both Summer and Winter activities plus the facilities to support those endeavours. El Chalten and Torres del Paine in that sense are one trick ponies, stunning locations and scenery but that's about it (as magnificent as it/they are).
We cruised around Circuito Chico quite easily, within 2.5hrs of the suggested 4, (but of course we did), and thus due to our early return Inga suggested that we ride back to our hostel at kilometre 4.5 (I've temporarily forgotten the reason why) and then ride back to kilometre 19 to drop off the bikes. Now it doesn't take a maths wizard to realise that that's an additional distance of 28kms being added onto our 40km cycle. Not entirely debilitating in itself other than the fact that was ALL downhill from kilometre 19 to 4, which in turn meant that the return journey would be an uphill battle akin to wading through treacle. It was only somewhere near kilometre 10 that the 'smart pills' that we had taken that morning kicked in and we turned the bikes around and headed back to km 19.
Lake Nahuel Huapi - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Mosaic of Mexican painter Frida Kahlo - outside Dias de Zapata - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
That evening, after having wondered past nearly every chocolate store in town and having purchased probably only 50g worth, we ended up at a little Mexican joint named Dias de Zapata that I remembered from my last excursion to this area. I only say this as I believe the 'inspired' choice of cuisine was a direct reaction to the aggressive meat infused diet that Argentina had thrust upon us. I was happy to let go of my red meat fetish for one night and I think Inga felt blessed that I had somehow come to my senses.
Lake Nahuel Huapi - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
The next day we had reserved for Cerro Campenario, known to be the supplier of one of the greatest views in the world. I mean seriously, that's what the Argentines in Bariloche will tell you and did tell us, go up there and see a world class view! Fair enough, hard to deny such a recommendation although it was also hard to deny that the rain had come in just at the most inopportune moment that day also. Not enough to stop us in our tracks but enough to take the sting out of the might and power of Bariloche. So as we set off up Cerro Campenario, by-passing the chairlift and walking the main trails up to the main lookout, we hoped that somewhere along the line the sun would miraculously disband this cloud union and assign them to a mere supporting cast slot. But not even close hombres! At the top of the lookout the wind howled, the clouds gathered, the rain pelted down and there we remained, huddled in the safety of the coffee shop with the worlds greatest view to what was a complete whiteout! We waited of course and hoped, much the same as the supporters of vanquished teams sit through the final periods of time in games where there is the understanding that defeat is certain but there also exists the wild hope that on this day they will bare witness to the 1 in a million chance of a Lazarus like return. Needless to say, Lazarus did not rise for us on this day and so as a form of self inflicted punishment that had masochistic overtones, instead of making a speedy escape from the hillside via chairlift we decided to walk down the now muddy, slippery slopes of Cerro Campenario. And ok, for the most part we were successful, actually, for ALL the part Inga was successful. As for me, in my final moments I reminded myself of one of those desperate YouTube characters where the last seconds of what looks to be certain glory is shattered by some unworldly force that also suspends belief in onlookers as failure in those moments is considered to be virtually impossible. So there I was, not more than 10mtrs from successfully negating the trail of Cerro Campenario and making back it to flat land safety when my left foot started to give way. As it slid further away from me my right foot followed and it was then that I realised that I was now mud surfing in Argentina. In those split seconds when your mind weighs up the situation and assigns probabilities to permutations, it also tries to rationalise your actions in accordance to your abilities. Let me give you a snippet of the radio broadcast that was going on in my mind and the responses that were being provided by my body;
'Oh, ok, that's both feet gone, and you're not holding on to anything? Mud surfing dude, I like it' - Brain
'Oh shit. Ok just stay upright' - Body
'Dude, you can snowboard, you've got balance, just slide down to that tree 6mtrs away' - Brain
'Are you freakin kidding me you mental case?' - Body
'Why aren't you stopping? Why are you picking up speed? What's going on?' - Brain
'Brace for impact' - Body
'Brain, lay it down, lay it down, take the hit! Ok body, time for me to split, I'm not hanging around! Ciao' - Brain
Those were the final words of transmission before I hit the ground and slid on my arse for 10mtrs. End result, I was literally tasting mud in my mouth for 3 days after the event! Needless to say that Inga was a little more careful in that final sector.
SCUM ???
After a much needed wash up in the afternoon we headed back into the centre itself for some more chocolate window gazing and once again came to rest at Dias de Zapata for some homely quesadillas then attended a little bar on Juramento called Konna Bar where in fact we had been the night before. It's was a small venue but the drinks were cheap, the pours were long, the staff were fun and their was a great buzz to the joint.
Reflecting back on our few days there, I don't know, Bariloche didn't quite live up to the billing that I'd given it previously and I know in the eyes of Inga it was disappointing. It may have been the weather that slanted our view or it may have been that after so much exposure to 'Patagonia on steroids' in El Calafate, El Chalten and Torres del Paine, that this, even though it looked like a find of gold, was in fact actually just pyrite. I'm not ready to give up on Bariloche just yet though, I still think that there gold to be found, I think this we may have just looked in the wrong place.
I'll see your postcard and raise you a selfie - Bariloche - Patagonia - Argentina
Heading out of Bariloche on another 22 hour voyage, this time to Mendoza, we lined up at the bus counter of Andesmar (I think), showed our passports and waited to board...but no, it wasn't going to be that easy was it? The service agent asked us to produce a printed copy of our tickets, which we did not have, and then when we advised him of this he basically went about saying that he couldn't do anything else...ummm, what was that chief? So commenced the questioning;
Can't we just show you our tickets online?'
Answer: No
'Can't you just verify that we have tickets by checking passenger lists against our identification?'
Answer: lo siento, no
'Ah certainly you have a printer, can't we just print tickets at this office?'
Answer: No, we have no printer at this office
'WTF"!?!?
'So what are we suppose to do'??
Answer: 'I cannot do anything'
Ah, good 'ole South America striking with a vengeance. When there's a 'need' for bureaucracy then here is where you'll find it. As my sense of incredulity and frustrations levels rose, Inga suggested that we go to the Information Desk. Which we did. We explained the situation to the guy who initially said, 'Yes, this tends to happen a lot'....AND....AND what now? You guys don't cater towards occurrences like this? Inga then seconded the guy to act as our agent in finding bus company service agents that 1) Had printers and that 2) Were willing to print out our tickets, all of this whilst the clock was ticking down to departure time. As Inga went around from booth to booth the guy made the suggestion that we could 'maybe' print out our tickets from an internet café in Bariloche, but of course it was Sunday and who the hell knew if they were going to be open!? As that debate went on I was also trying to make my argument for jumping a cab and going into town but knew that the time to do that was much longer than what we had before departure. Now we were really running out of options! It was either stall the bus, or find someone in this bus station that could print the tickets now! Personally I thought the bus station was a lost cause and thought that hunting for a negative outcome was futile, but Inga being that fiery determined Aries character (and Ares being the God of War) just switched her eye colour to RED ALERT and made it happen! I honestly couldn't believe it when she pointed to probably the one guy in the place that was willing to help us out and just said 'C'mon, lets do it'. That was cool, not for the experience so much as just the will of this girl saying 'Right, there's a brick wall and I want to get through it and go to Mendoza', and right on 3:30pm on that Sunday afternoon in April that's exactly what we did!
On the road to Mendoza - Patagonia - Argentina
