|
  | |  |
The lake district
Entry 3 of 17 | show all | print this entry |
|
Tuesday - we set off for San Carlos de Bariloche - a quick two hour flight north from El Calafate, which passed without incident. At Bariloche airport, we picked up a car for four days. Bariloche is sort of twee tyrolean; mountainous with thousands of highly varnished alpine log cabins. Sort of how you would expect a bunch of ex-pat northern Europeans pining for the old country to do it.
Some thoughts on Argentine driving: In BA, the city drivers were up there with the Italians when it comes to maintaining momentum. That is, they drove with their horns, focussing on what was in front and sounding off to any lane wanderers. They did stop for red lights, but not for long, frequently setting off before they turned green. We didn't see any accidents, but there were lots of cars with minor dings in the wings.
Not many motorbikes around, and those we saw tended to be sub-125, ridden by typically macho Latins wearing no helmets, but normally carrying one hooked up one arm. Should they fall off, the last thought that would go through their brains (even as they were being dashed across the pavement) is that at least their left elbow would be safe.
Driving in Bariloche was fun. The other drivers were of the BA style, with some embellishments. I first got the idea that this was going to be fun when I pulled into a service station and saw that the fuel on offer was either Normale, Super or Fangio! (There's a thing - Fangio is still revered in Argentina, nearly fifty years after he stopped racing and some 10 years after his death. For many years the UK public had a similar affair with his English contemporary Stirling Moss, but these days, do our policemen still say 'and who do you think you are sir, Stirling Moss?)
If you left any breathing space at all between yourself and the car in front, it was an invitation for cars to come out of side turnings and fill it. Normally in a slow meandering way - not Fangio at all. Indicators were seldom used, but some drivers would drive with their hazard lights permanently on. This meant 'well, neither of us know what I'm going to do next, but I bet it surprises you more than me'.
We did an all-day drive around the lakes on our second day - about 200 miles. The middle 60 miles or so were interesting, as the road disappeared and was replaced by dirt track, gravel, big rocks, loads of different off-road surfaces. I had a whale of a time, and was a-whooping and a-hollering inside, whilst remaining outside calm and nonchalant for my passenger/nearly ex-wife. I didn't spend too much time sideways, and she only told me to slow down twice in two hours.
This was real get away from it all living, with the most gorgeous views. We stopped for lunch at a campsite restaurant. Being close to end-of-summer season, as schools went back about ten days ago, it was fairly quiet on the campsite, except for (or perhaps because of) the wasps.
Eating in Bariloche was memorable for a number of reasons. We had been recommended a restaurant, Cassis, by an American couple on honeymoon that we met in Calafate. We met up at Cassis with Liz (the old LSA lecturer mentioned earlier) and her husband Jeff. The location was superb (see pix).
The food - really fresh and delicate salmon trout, with what seemed like dozens of amuse bouche dishes between courses. The local wines - white Torrontes and red Malbec - were....well, I'm more James May than Oz Clarke in this area, so let's just say they were fine, interesting and unlike anything tasted before.
We had a couple of great lunches at the lakeside, one at a lakeside café, the other at Hotel Casco de Artes, a hotel recommended by one of my clients for its ambience and art collection. Each turned up the chill and tranquillity dials a couple of notches (they go up to eleven you know...).
The most memorable meal, although nowhere near the best, was the evening at Fondue Bonita. Where in life does the regular urge to try a fondue come from? As an experience, they are like son et lumieres.....about ten minutes into the evening you realise that you are bored silly and wonder what on earth made you decide to do it; the next hour or so then drags by. You leave, having promised yourself never again then hey presto, ten years later you're back. It must be the same hormone that keeps women involved in pregnancy. Are there any more experiences out there like that?
Next time round, celebrity guest writer Jane Brundle will be taking a turn to talk about Chile. No, I'm not bored, honest.....
|
|
If you like this entry, search for other entries from Argentina or try a new search. |
| |
Back to Entry - Back to Home
|
7 votes 
