Good-bye to the Ford Falcon...

El Bolson, Argentina

March 16, 2007
S 41°57.942
W 071°32.091

Our time in El Bolson is coming to an end. We really liked the lazy little town, surrounded on both sides by the beautiful Andes and in the shadow of its ritzy neighbor Bariloche. We decided to relax a little today after our hike yesterday. The weather was perfect, as it has been the entire time we have been here, and decided to have another Park Day.

We took care of a few things in the morning such as buying food for tomorrow’s 14 hour bus ride, updating our blog, and having coffee; by the time siesta came around we figured there was no better place to spend it than in the park. We packed up our mate set and decided to have a relaxing afternoon.

Marc boiled water for our mate and I read about Bahia Blanca, our next stop. As we watched the traffic roll by the park we played a modified version of the game “Slug Bug.” We really didn’t slug each other and there aren’t any VW bugs in Argentina, at least none that we have seen. However, the old Ford Falcon is in abundance, as is the Ford Ranchero. I have never seen so many in my life. Ford must have saturated the Argentinean market in the late sixties with the Falcon; it seems at least 10% of the cars sputtering around El Bolson are beat-to-shit Falcons. We have found new information on the infamous Falcon... apparently this car was produced in mass quantities in Argentina from 1962-1991 and there are "conspiracy" links between Ford Motor and the collapse of Argentina's economy.

While relaxing in the sun, our traveling Cevezeria guy showed up with his Styrofoam ice chest. There was no hesitation today. Yes, we want a cerveza. I asked our hippy beer vendor what the name of his beer was. He told me it doesn’t have a name, that it is so unique it doesn’t really need one, but sometimes he calls it 442; a popular number in the area. We aren’t sure why this is; there is even a restaurant with this name. Oh well, I guess a good beer doesn’t really need a name… as long as you know the traveling salesman who sells it!

We’ve enjoyed our time in El Bolson and could see ourselves coming back at some point; possibly a side trip from Buenos Aires. One thing is for sure, we would come back during the four days of February when El Bolson hosts the Hops Festival!

Who needs Spanish...

El Bolson, Argentina

March 15, 2007
S 41°57.942
W 071°32.091

We decided to hit the trails around El Bolson for a little day hike today. Lonely Planet, “Trekking the Patagonian Andes” suggested grabbing a taxi to the starting point, Camp Hue Nain, instead of hiking the 2 hours on the dusty road to the starting point. We thought this was a great idea. We shouldn’t have any problems finding a taxi.

We thought the taxi stand would be the ideal place to wait, so we stood there for several minutes without any luck. We strolled towards the bus station, but there weren’t any recent arrivals; so, we headed back to the taxi stand.

We finally saw a cab and got really excited. Marc walked aggressively towards the cab as he would in San Francisco and waited for the person to get out. Perfect, so we thought. The cabby turned off her motor, both the driver and the passenger rolled up the windows, and then they simply sat there and conversed. We weren’t sure what was going on, but clearly a new fare wasn’t a priority. The passenger finally got out of the car, but when we explained to the driver we need a ride to Camp Hue Nain she explained she couldn’t help us and suggested we try the bus station. Typical, never a cab when you need one!

We were very close to giving up when I walked into the bus station as Marc sat outside still scanning for cabs. We knew there weren’t any local buses to Camp Hue Nain, but maybe the guys in the bus station knew a secret way to get to our destination. After a few minutes of negotiations I got us a ride; I came back out and let Marc know we were on our way.

Via roads better suited for a Humvee, not his little Toyota Corolla, our taxi driver recklessly drove us as close as possible to Camp Hue Nain before the road simply became too much for his car. We quickly realized we needed a ride back. Lonely Planet suggested hitchhiking or walking back to town, but the chance of hitching a ride seemed very remote and we figured it would take at least 2 hours on foot. We decided to try and convince our cabby to come back and pick us up. In my elementary Spanish (plus a 4 peso tip) I asked the driver to come back at 6:30 PM. He promised us he would.

Next, the driver explained the route to Camp Hue Nain in Spanish and I checked with Marc to see if he caught everything. Marc later told me he wasn’t sure how to respond to me while in front of the cabby… he said his first instinct was to laugh in my face. He didn’t have a clue so he figured a smile and good firm head-nod would convince the cab driver we had everything under control.

We hit the road pretty fast knowing we didn’t have a lot of time, but figured we should be able to cover the 20 km in 4-5 hours. We covered the first 3 km in no time at all. We did slow down to cross a rickety suspension bridge to get over the river. The bridge had a limit of one person at a time and no more than 150 kg. We abided by the one person at a time for good reason.

When we finally reached the trail head and the 20 km hike quickly turned into 30 km. There was a sign indicating the average duration to be at least 7 hours and the round-trip to be 30 km. We decided to get as far as we could before turning back to meet our taxi, provided he was going to show up.

In the first 2 hours Marc (GPS boy) determined we climbed from 315 meters to 1010 meters in the first 8 km; that’s a 9% grade. All signs indicated our final destination was still at least 3 hours away. We were down to one liter of water in the hot sun and knew we had to make the smart decision. There was no way we could continue at this pace without water so we decided to only go as far as Miridor de Raquel, the lookout over El Bolson.

We had lunch and finished off our water at the top of the Miridor overlooking the sleepy little town of El Bolson. The views of the valley were spectacular and the massive condors soaring over head were impressive. We figured the condors were probably searching for the cow remains we found on our scramble up to the Mirador. I guess Cox would have been really scared (see, Top 10 Lame Excuses).

As we started our descent we could hear massive thunder claps echoing across the mountains from the north. We were able to make our way down a lot faster than up, of course, and we returned to our starting point by 4:45 PM. We had almost two hours before our cab driver was "supposed" to show up. Luckily, there was a little sign for Cevezeria Kelly; yet another artesanal brewery. Wow, we really like these artesanal beers that seem to pop up everywhere.

Not knowing Cevezeria Kelly was actually a guy’s house, we wondered into the front yard of a dilapidated dwelling looking for a pub. When the owner casually sauntered out his front door we finally realized Cevezeria Kelly wasn’t a pub. Apparently “Mr. Kelly” is just a guy selling home-brewed beer out of his kitchen. We ordered two beers in plain brown bottles and sat down by the river to pass some time. The beer was light and refreshing, it really hit the spot, especially since we were out of water. Just as we finished our beers it started to rain. We returned the bottles to “Mr. Kelly,” thanked him for the brew and headed up to our waiting spot.

We still had 45 minutes to wait before our cab arrived. The rain was really starting to come down and we hoped my Spanish didn’t let us down. At 6:15 PM we heard the sound of a car approaching… it was our cab driver and he was fifteen minutes early—YAHOO!

Despite a little rain, the overall weather was perfect; we had a nice 20 km hike, and got a nice view of the El Boson valley. And of course we had the opportunity of sampling the very rare Argentinean beer at Cevezeria Kelly.

A Park Day... Argentinean style.

El Bolson, Argentina

March 14, 2007
S 41°57.942
W 071°32.091

There are things we miss about home such as friends and family, but we have done our best to stay in close contact through our blog updates, emails and the occasional phone call. We’ve realized most of the things we miss are the small things; not our home, bed, clothes, TV, stereo, and definitely not our jobs. Instead we miss coffee at Trieste, “park days” in Washington Square, Giordano Brother’s sandwiches and live-music (especially Marc), and a good breakfast.

We realized today we haven’t had a real breakfast since we left at the end of January. We’ve had some nice breakfasts with fruit, granola, juice, coffee and bread/pastries, but no O’Reilly’s Irish breakfast. We decided we really wanted some bacon and eggs… a real Americano breakfast.

We were quickly lured into a place boasting Desayuno Americano—exactly what we were looking for. The breakfast included café con leche, eggs, juice, toast with butter and local jam, ham and bacon. It sounded hearty and it was… it was everything we haven’t had since our last breakfast at O’Reilly’s (minus a perfect pint of Guiness). We walked out of the restaurant, completely satisfied, and good for at least another six weeks.

Sometimes when you are on vacation you do things you wouldn’t normally do at home. This might include hitchhiking, eating ice cream (twice a day), or buying homemade beer from a complete stranger in the park. We haven’t tried the hitchhiking yet. However, we’ve definitely had our share of ice cream including flavors like banana split, cassis, dulce de leche, coconut, dulce de leche con brownie, cherry, and countless other flavors that are still a complete mystery. But today we tried our first homemade beer purchased from a stranger in the park.

Marc received an email from Mike recently mentioning opening day of Washington Square Park 2007 in our San Francisco neighborhood. This was the one thing Marc knew he would miss from home, and after hearing from Mike we did our best to create our own opening day in El Bolson. The main parque, which hosts the craft faire on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, sits in the middle of town and usually has a fair number of characters roaming around. Similar to Washington Square, but not nearly as entertaining… there was no sign of a Moving Man, no Earl with his guitar, no Crazy Tom, no Fat Bum Guy, and the smell of marijuana wasn’t floating in the breeze. We still packed up the “park backpack,” South American style, with our mate, thermos, camp-stove (to boil water for tea), a few snacks, our radio (damn, no Giants games) and had our own park day in El Bolson.

After sitting down and getting comfortable we were offered a Cerveza Artenenal. The vendor, a long haired Argentinean hippy in need of a hot shower, was walking around with his Styrofoam ice chest. He politely explained (in Spanish and broken English) that he brewed and bottled the one liter bottles of beer himself and it was all organic. Marc politely declined, but something about the beer, and all the beer in the area, intrigued me. I suggested we try it…what the heck. I was fairly confident that it wasn’t laced with LSD, or spiked with a date rape drug… but if it was it would have been an even a better story. Plus, how could we go too far wrong for seven pesos ($2.25 USD). The bottle was sealed and he popped off the cap right in front of us. The ice-cold beer was terrific and another example these people treat the brewing of beer as a true art form. The only request from our vendor was to leave the bottle on the grass when we were finished. He collects the bottles at the end of the day and reuses them.

As we were getting ready to leave the park, we saw the vendor selling a bottle to a young couple next to us. They seemed skeptical, so we encouraged them to give the beer a shot. The vendor came by for our bottle; we told him to continue his art with a muy bueno and muchas gracias. He thanked us and seemed to have a genuine smile of satisfaction on his face as he walked away.

Both breakfast and our “park day” provided us a sense of normalcy in a time when we have a new place to stay every 2-4 nights. El Bolson is definitely a town where we can relax, at least for a few days. We’re still going to miss the small things, but with days like today it will help us miss them less.

Hey look, it´s Ralph!

El Bolson, Argentina

March 13, 2007
S 41°57.942
W 071°32.091

We took the first bus out of Colonial Suiza at 9:00 AM and grabbed a connecting bus from the central bus station for El Bolson. We figured we’d seen everything the sleepy little town had to offer. We enjoyed the peace and quiet on the lake, but we were ready for a change after camping on the dusty lake for a few nights. Plus, having just camped for seven nights we weren’t in the mood to go for the long haul.

When we arrived in El Bolson we quickly found a place to stay; a cute little place (La Posada de Hamelin) with white stone walls, wood beams, and plenty of shelves and drawers to tuck away our stuff while we call this place home for the next four days or so. We showered and headed out to the craft festival that is only in town on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. We hoped to find a tasty empanada to tide us through until dinner.

As we walked through the fair munching on our empanadas we bumped into our old buddy Ralph. Ralph is the nice gentleman from Tasmania we met in Torres del Paine ten days or so ago when we all set out to do the circuit around the park. We were as shocked to see him as he was to see us. When we last parted we all had plans to head south before heading back north. Neither he nor us were even contemplating a visit to El Bolson when we parted ways in Torres del Paine... small world! It appeared we weren’t the only ones tired of the cold weather in the south. We caught up with Ralph for a few minutes before we suggested meeting at the local microbrewery, Cevezeria El Bolson, for a drink later in the evening and then headed our separate ways.

The brewery, with nine different local beers on tap, is located about 2 km outside of town and was packed with locals. The brewing of beer in this area seems to be viewed as an art and savored and enjoyed as such. All of the beer we sampled at the little Cevezeria was excellent and we’re excited to check out more of the local beers in the area. We’re pleasantly surprised by the microbreweries and plan to take full advantage of them over the next few days.

Over the course of the evening we had 3 (maybe 4 pints) and really got to know Ralph better… he’s a cool guy with a good heart. Ralph gave us a ride back to our place (he rented a car and drove approx. 2000 km over the past 5 days); we parted just before midnight with discussions of doing a hike on Thursday or Friday. Regardless of whether we do the hike or not, we’re sure we will see Ralph again. How can we not?

Hey, no one told us about the beer!

Colonial Suiza, Argentina

March 12, 2007
S 41°05.770
W 071°30.267

We had a perfect day today—the skies were blue, we went on a great hike, had a nice little picnic next to a stream with waterfalls flowing and finished it off with a fine Argentinean microbrew (Cerveza Gilbert). We woke up to bright blue skies as the sun was rising over the lake; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We figured today was the best weather we’ve had since Santiago—one month ago. Of course, we spent the majority of the past month pretty far south, and got the weather that should be expected.

Marc was out of the tent by 7:00 AM to give another shot at the trout which provided us a very tranquil way to start the morning. The wind died down during the night and the lake where we are camping was like glass—very pristine.

Marc spent the first hour or so fishing in what appears to be another over fished lake. Little minnows were jumping near the shore, but they were only 3-5 inches long (like bait). Fishing season begins in December and goes until April 1st and every restaurant in the Lake District serves trout; with exception of the ice-cream shops (hmm, Helado de Trucha… that could be a hit!). Obviously, everyone is getting their fish from the surrounding lakes and it seems everyone caught their limit this year.

Since the fishing sucked, we decided to day hike to what we thought was another lake. We reviewed the map and figured the trip was approximately 6 km—perfect, we thought. After hiking for almost two hours we took another look at the map. The trail we were on was at least 12 km and we weren’t headed to a lake, we were actually headed to a Lagoon. There might not even be fish there!

We continued for at least another hour before hitting a steep ridge with a beautiful waterfall. We passed a local who told us the refugio and lagoon was at the top of the ridge. We opted to turn around and enjoy our picnic lunch on a sunny beach just downstream from the waterfall.

The ingredients for our lunch were purchased at a very cute Molinari-esque deli in Bariloche. So far, we’ve been lucky enough to find one of these little delis in every city in Argentina. Since we were camping we purchased items that didn’t need refrigeration: salami, cheese, olives, bread and miniature pickles. The lunch was perfect… we washed it down with a liter of ice-cold water right from the stream.

The hike ended up being closer to 20 km roundtrip, but it made the beer at the end of the day taste even better. Local micro-brews seem to be very popular in this area of Argentina; today’s beer was made and bottled right in Colonial Suiza. The label had a handwritten lot-number and an expiration date. It appeared the handcrafted beer, Cerveza Gilbert, has a three month shelf life and was bottled just weeks ago.

The beer was a perfect end to a perfect day. I am sure we will have more days like this as we head towards our next village, El Bolson.

Quiet Little Suzy...

Colonial Suiza, Argentina

March 11, 2007
S 41°05.770
W 071°30.267

We caught the local bus from Bariloche to another Lake District town, Colonial Suiza. The very crowded bus ride took just about one hour, but with the scenery along the way it could have lasted six hours and I would have cared less. The views of the lake and the mountains in the background were simply breathtaking. Every few minutes I tried to get Marc’s attention to show him another view of the pristine lakes.

We left Bariloche staring out over Lago Nahuel Huapi, but quickly weaved our way to other small villages within the Lake District. The Lake District boasts seven different lakes, and I think we have now seen three of the seven. We plan to day hike to another lake tomorrow, allowing Marc time to fish.

Colonial Suiza is a cute little mountain village on one tiny road. There are a few restaurants, and on Sundays they have an outdoor cookout where some type of meat is barbequed underground. The hole in the ground attracted the attention of many tourists when we first arrived, but we made our way to our campground before looping back to see what was cooking.

The camping spot, which is more like “car camping” than our nights in Torres del Paine, is a perfect spot right on the lake. We set up our tent, got settled in, and then Marc grabbed his fishing rod and tossed his line into the lake to see what was biting. The high winds prevented any action and he opted to try again in the morning just after sunrise.

We headed back to Main Street, a little late for the underground BBQ, but had an opportunity to try the local beer. We enjoyed our beers in a nice little courtyard where several locals sat around, drank mate, and ate different types of cake. Everyone seemed so laid-back, I even witnessed a hungry three year old lift up her mom’s shirt for a little snack and no one seemed to bat an eyelash—Yum, yum.

The courtyard started clearing out around 4:30 PM and everyone began queuing up for the 5:45 PM bus back to Bariloche. Luckily, we didn’t have to join them on the crowded bus, instead we just walked back to our campsite, boiled some water for our mate, and enjoyed a little more time on the beach.

Tea time...

Bariloche, Argentina

March 10, 2007
S 41°08.000
W 071°17.900

We are really enjoying the beautiful lake town of Bariloche. The town reminds us of Lake Tahoe, a town that is happening both in the summer and the winter. Bariloche is the same way; a thriving town during the summer months for those looking for events on the lake and again during the winter months for those ready to hit the slopes. We haven’t found a place like Sunnyside on the North Shore of Lake Tahoe for kick-ass-Bloody Mary’s, but we did find great steaks, microbrews and Argentinean wine.

Bariloche is located in the Andes, a quick flight from Buenos Aires, situated just over the border from Puerto Montt, Chile. Bariloche is the chocolate capital of Argentina, and reputedly houses the best ice cream shop too (Helados Jauja). We have been to the ice cream shop three times now and agree it is good… actually very good. We’ll have to wait until we arrive in Buenos Aires before we can officially determine if the ice cream in Bariloche is the best in the country.

As we have explored the streets of Bariloche, we’ve stumbles upon several people in parks with a thermos of hot water; all sipping some kind of drink out of a small container thru a straw. The groups are sometimes all male, sometimes all female, or a mixed group, regardless of the company, there is one common theme—the container and the straw. We saw this in Chile, but not as predominant as in Argentina. We figured we had to participate in this ritual.

We’ve discovered one of the main traditions in Argentina is to drink Mate with friends, family and co-workers. Mate is a dried chopped leave; a relative of holly leaves (essentially a tea). The ritual of preparing the mate and the camaraderie of friends and family is the whole point of having mate. Mate isn’t usually served in cafés due to the laborious preparation process and the very personal use of the gourds that serve as containers for the tea. It’s possible to travel throughout Argentina as a tourist without ever having mate. We didn’t want this to happen to us, so we bought a complete set-up to enjoy mate throughout our time in Argentina.

We found a local hardware store, away from the tourist area, to purchase our gourd (container), bombilla and thermos. It’s important to cure the gourd before you actually serve mate. In order to cure the gourd, you must pour boiling hot water and yerba mate tea inside and let it sit for 24 hours; the gourd thoroughly absorbs the water/mate combination.

We properly cured our gourd and tried the Argentinean tradition. We filled our gourd with mate, added hot water, and stirred it with our bombilla. The bombilla is a metal straw with a strainer at the bottom; preventing the leaves and twigs from getting into your mouth as you enjoy the tea. Most restaurants and hotels will fill your thermos with water at the proper temperature for mate for free... no questions asked.

When we shared our first round of mate today and enjoyed the flavor of the tea—a little bitter and earthy, like green tea, but not too bitter to require sugar or milk. We filled the gourd with water, took turns drinking the tea, and then re-filled the gourd until we ran out of hot water in our thermos. The whole process was soothing and fits into the very low-key Siesta culture of Argentina.

We’re headed out to explore the Seven Lakes tomorrow and will be camping for at least three nights, with our Mate of course.