El Bolson and Bariloche

• Pgphoto's Profile
• About this blog
• Entry from Bariloche

  Bariloche, Argentina
Wednesday, May 21, 2008

So the 29 hour bus trip..... Mmm, not exactly fun but not exactly as bad as it sounds either. I decided to take a longer but quicker route out and up by the Atlantic Coast in a more comfortable "cama" bus where I had a seat that reclined to about 160 degrees. Well we still had to stop and change buses at three different places so it wasnt like you had one long continous rest but IŽll bet it was a lot more comfortable than the other option I was contemplating - a 36 hour bone shaker of a journey up a more scenic but unpaved road in a crappy bus. A lot of time was spent in a daze or reading, nothing much else to report except that I woke up at one of the bus changes and realised that IŽd left my ticket on the previous bus and they werenŽt going to re-issue me another ticket for the longest leg. After arguing in broken Spanish while half asleep I eventually found the ticket. I looked like a total prat but that was better than forking out for a new ticket!

I decided to stop about 2 hours short of Bariloche in a town set up by hippies in the early seventies called El Bolson. Apparently thereŽs not a whole lot to do there except relax and eat jam which is exactly what I needed to do after too many late nights and three weeks of hiking at least every other day. I just needed some restful sleep and to maybe study some spanish (I hadnt looked at a book since the start of the trip) so I decided to get a room of my own in somewhere a bit nicer than normal to chill for a few days.

I got talking to Patrick on the bus, who is from Kells of all places. He also knows Dave who IŽd been hanging around with in Ushuaia and had met him the week before in Buenos Aires. Small small world. I didnt want to seem rude but told him that I planned on taking it easy rather than just partying in a hostel so he said heŽd come along and get a room in the same quiet place I had picked out. We tossed a coin to see whoŽd get which rooms and I got lucky with the much bigger one but in fairness they were both great. I had a shave for the first time in about 5 weeks, took it easy, got the laundry out of the way, made some calls, just bummed around really. I ended up heading out for a couple of drinks with Patrick later on but seeing as the night life was so dull it ended up being an enforced early night which wasnt necessarily a bad thing for my energy levels.

One of the most touristy things about the place is the market on a Saturday which in fact has some really nice stuff. The town is also famous for itŽs numerous local brews which can be found in the market as well as a few micro breweries. I sampled a few and they were just great, they also got me talking to half the market and I bought a couple of gifts and found a beautiful but massive and heavy xylophone which I was nearly going to buy. I decided to leave it and call the owner later if I wanted it as I had to find out first how much it would cost to send it all home. I ended up bumping into Shane in the market, he had been scooting around town on a rented bike and just got as far as the market.

After two pints Shane could barely stay on his bike so we ended up looking for a micro brewery and found one that was only open until 6pm (how does that make sense?) but which sells the best stout IŽve ever had - the stuff is 9.5% and tastes of coffee and chocolate. Heaven! The guy who ran the place made his own guitars which were actually pretty decent. Of course it ended up being a very late one, waiting around for half the night for a band to start which turned out to be pretty rubbish. I headed to bed at around 3 having drank myself sober but Patrick somehow managed to keep going til 7.

The next day I was a wreck, I managed to rent a bike for the afternoon to cycle out to a couple of waterfalls which were pretty rubbish but the cycle itself was nice. The town is situated in a broad u-shaped valley surrounded by fairly high mountains. The changing leaves and snow capped peaks provided a soothing backdrop to my pain as I managed to blow away a few cob-webs and listened to some spanish CDs that Karen Fitz had given me. I must have fitted right in with the locals, talking to myself with wild hair and red eyes.

The next day I was going to just take the bike out for another trip around the outer areas of the town to enjoy the scenery and take it easy as I had a massage booked for later in the evening after which I was going to leave to visit Bariloche. Gordon however had other plans for me and rocked up at my place just before I had left with an Argentinian friend Juan who had rented a car for a couple of weeks. They convinced me to join them in climbing up the biggest mountain in the area which was meant to have great views. I agreed on the condition that IŽd be back in plenty of time for the massage and to pick up the xylophone that IŽd eventually decided to buy. The hike itself was really steep, fairly tough due to the pace but relatively quick. The people on the refugio on the way up took JuanŽs number in case we didnt appear back down again as the paths were covered in snow. Great views on the way up there but the clouds closed in just as we got to the top which was a bit of a pity, at least the old wind got us up and moving again as I was in danger of missing the massage and the the girl with the xylophone.

Got back down just about 10 minutes late as Juan happened to bump into his best friendŽs sister in the refugio on the way down, just about made it in time to meet the girl with the xylophone then went off for the massage. My back had been in bits since Torres del Paine so the massage was really welcome, though I nearly missed my bus out of there after talking for over half an hour anout spirituality in Spanish after the massage... it must be improving!

Some pics here....

http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulgaffney/sets/72157605145523479/show/

I got to El Bariloche quite late and got a taxi to a hostel where they were kinda supposed to be holding me a room but wouldnt confirm. The place was recommended as having an amazing view and being kind of laid back so I thought it would be worth the extra effort. ItŽs actually situated on top of the tallest building in Barilohe and looks out over the ity and massive lake below. Quality views, decent rooms and extremely anal owners. They had little signs up everywhere with rules for this and that. They must be used to catering for babies. That said, they were pretty helpful. Spent the first day there just sitting out on the balcony, reading and enjoying the view. ould barely sleep the first night as a fat English bloke was snoring the whole time. Someone atually got up and hit him with a pillow but it didnt solve anything.

The day after I rented a bike to cycle around the Ciruito Chico at Llao Llao which is just a bit outside the city. The route takes you around a few lakes and up and down some very steep hills. The scenery was beautiful and I stopped at a little secluded beach with an english couple I had been cycling with. There were massive big hawks in the trees and we managed to coax one down with a bit of our lunch. They werenŽt even half scared of us! It was idyllic until a group of really noisy Puerto Ricans came along so I decided to head on and met up with another small group of people for a hike up a hill to a viewing point over the lakes. One of the guys, Scott from Scotland, had just finished up a 2 year stint in Antartica. Had some really interesting conversations with him, heŽs given me some ideas...

We stopped at plenty of more views including ArgentinaŽs most famous hotel and an impressive sunset before heading back to Bariloche to meet Gordon who was due to arrive at my hostel. We ended up heading out to an Irish bar which was the only one that was busy early on. Thankfully it didnt feel to Irish though but we decided to try somewhere a bit more local afterwards and ventured into a rock bar where everyone was about 5 foot 6, under 25, Argentinian and dressed in goth clothing. We stood out a mile (especially Gordon whoŽs well over 6 foot) so just stayed for the one before heading to a club. The entrance fee was a bit cheeky so we pretended to leave and they let us in 2 for 1. We ended up spending a fortune on booze anyway so I dont know why we bothered. It was a really weird place music wise... you could have Enter Sandman by Metallica one minute and Madonna the next. We were the only people dancing, just decided to take the piss and enjoy ourselves since everyone around us was po faced. Going absolutely hammered on Jaegermeister and Guillmes. Gordon reckons he was sick on the way back home but neither of us were too sure.

The following day was May Day so since everything was closed we didnt feel so bad about wandering around town hung over and eating the local chocolates so we consoled ourselves with preparations for a three day trek over the weekend just outside Bariloche. I spent the next morning sending home the xylophone and about 7 kilos of camping equipment and couldnt believe how light my bag was feeling after it. Gordon was determined to camp during the trek but I had had enough of carry all that crap and since there were refugios that we could stay at I took the easy option. The first day of the trek was only about 3 or 4 hours and brought us up through a burned out area where a forest used to be and then a very nice wooded area after that. The refugio was set just beside a frozen mountain lake and surrounded by tall rock faces where you could see people climbing and abseiling. The facilities were basic but you could at least get some running water and the guy who runs it cooks up a decent feed too. It was close to sunset so we decided to climb up one of the surrounding peaks to try to get a view into the next valley towards the sun. It ended up being a lot longer and more dodgy than we thought and in the end we couldnt actually even see much further. It was dark by the time we got back but we had managed to get some decent photos on the way. We met a couple in the refugio (Marco and Yvonne) who had just finished a 5000km cycle from Quito in Ecuador, down through Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina into Patagonia. They kept us laughing over our candlelit dinner with some really interesting stories and lots of good info on places to visit and things to do on the way up the continent along with some good bars to visit in Bogota.

The second day of the hike was another great day of hiking, up there with the best IŽve done in Patagonia. We had to climb up over 2 passes and through a massive valley to get to the next refugio. Marco even decided to take a dip in a freezing lake on the way... mad git. We heard lots of crazy big rumbling noises during the day but they were lasting too long to be avalanches and there was very little snow. We joked that maybe there was a war on or something. The day was all topped off with one of the best dinners IŽd had in a while, though it was hard not to rub it in with Gordon who was supping on soup and pasta. The last day was a bit of a rush down the mountain through a forested valley as I had a paragliding trip booked in the afternoon. It ended up that I couldnt do the paragliding because it was too cold so I booked in again for the next day and we met up with a couple of Swedish guys Emmet and Joel that Gordon had travelled with before and Karen (who I had met briefly in El Bolson) and watched the Boca Juniors vs River Plate game in the Irish bar. It wasnŽt the best game ever. Boca scored early on but neither team looked like doing much afterwards so the fans were fairly quiet during the match. That didnt stop them running around the street later and starting fights with one another. There were lots of cars going around beeping horns with lads hanging out the sides waving Boca flags and chanting. After about 5 minutes it was obvious that there was only about 10 cars doing the same block. Just like Navan. It also happened to be BarilocheŽs 106th birthday so we were treated to some fireworks from the pier right next to hostel.

I tried to go paragliding again the next day but it was too windy this time around so I just took a chair lift up to Cerro Otto to check out some of the views and had lunch in a very touristy revolving restaurant. They even had a museum up there with life sized models of some of MichaelangeloŽs most famous works. Why bother? I met up with the Swedes, Gordon and Karen again for a meal in a "hobbit" restaurant made out of wood with a massive big round door where Joel ate about half a cow. Without a doubt the biggest steak IŽve ever seen.

It turned out the rumbling noises weŽd heard on the second day of the trek had been the Chaiten volcano erupting a few hundred kilometres away in Chile. I had planned to go to Chaiten to do some trekking after visiting Chiloé where I was planning to go to the following day which is off the coat of Chaiten, about 100 km to its west. The Swedish guys gave me a few tips for Chiloé and seeing as there had been no news of any negative impact I decided to head in that direction as I had heard that it was very different from the rest of Chile and since it had been pretty much isolated for hundreds of years it had developed its own slightly different culture and myththologies.

Some Bariloche pics...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulgaffney/sets/72157605141654384/show/