Barreal,
Argentina
Friday, November 17, 2006
Last but not least, we were picked up by a very nice local off to see his dad for the weekend. He had room for us but not the bags. So the bus driver promised to drop them off at the police station in a couple of hours. Wasn´t till we arrived in Barreal that we discovered the campsite is about 40 minutes walk from the police station so we racked up a few miles going back and forth over the day - the bags eventually making an appearance at 9pm. Very frustrating. Resorted to hitching when I did eventually get the bag but, as luck would have it when you have a very heavy bag, the only person who stopped was a slightly inebriated man on a moped. Well, a lift is a lift when you´re tired. I couldn´t follow the conversation clearly but got the gist of it and said I speak to my ´husband´ about our plans for the next few days. This seemed to work and he disappeared quick sharp...only to appear 30 minutes later with a ´gift´- a fossilised fruit from a prehistoric forest nearby. Well...and what I was supposed to do with a fossilised fruit I´ve no idea. Very pretty but very bizarre.
Pottered round the hills for a couple of days and chilled out. This has to be the most stunning location ever for a village. Tucked in between the high Andes and bright red and green hills. They call the wind ´El Zonda´ here. It sweeps across from Chile, dumping all the moisture on the mountains before heading down into Argentina, making temperatures jump up then drop steeply when it dies down, which can be days later. Certainly knocked us about and made walking quite a dust-laden trial.
