20th-21st October: Bariloche, Argentina

After a sleepless night thanks to the paper-thin walls that excluded neither sound nor the cold, we woke in time to catch the 6.45am bus to Osorno.  We arrived at around 11.30, leaving us just enough time to have lunch before catching the onward bus to Bariloche, Argentina.

After an hour or two we crossed the Chilean border into Argentina, and we were greeted by the spectacular scenery of the Parque National Nahuel Huapi.  Even more incredible than the sheer rock faces, dense forest, and beautifully clear lakes was the thick mantle of volcanic ash that covered everything for miles and miles.  We'd heard about the ash cloud from the eruption of Chile's Volcano Puyehue in June 2011, but we couldn't have imagined how a layer of fine, grey ash could cover, completely cover, every square inch within a radius of at least several hours driving.  We passed through one small town where we saw the cleanup still in progress (which explained why the highway was the only place without ash).  Several people (including our bus conductor, who had to hop out at some points) were wearing masks to keep out the dust.

The national park just over the Argentinian border, covered with ash

And more ash

We arrived in Bariloche in the late afternoon and caught a taxi to our hostel, Hospedaje Wikter.  Bariloche's setting is simply stunning, nestled between bright blue alpine lakes and towering, snow-capped mountains.  The town itself, we found while wandering around that evening, is not particularly charming.  It's very touristy, even in low season, packed with shops selling North Face, Salomon, and Haglofs.  It had, however, two redeeming features so far as Clem was concerned.  First, it is home to a lovely St Bernard and her pup, sleeping under a bench in the plaza, with whom one could (and we did) pose for photos.  Second, it is South America's chocolate capital, or claims to be.  On our way to dinner, after organising trips for the next couple of days, we stopped by Bariloche's premier chocolate shop, Mamuschka.  Not quite Paries, France's finest, but pretty good.  We started with a pre-selected box of six, but returned the following evening to stock a larger box with our own selection: a treat for the road.  As we wandered around we could tell we were back in Argentina from the pronunciation of "ll" as "ch" (well, Clem could).

Dinner was at a cheap parilla place, where I was slightly surprised to find out that my dish consisted of one huge lump of sirloin (bife de chorizo), nothing more, nothing less.  Then to bed.

---

One of the more accessible parts of the Nahuel Huapi national park is the Circuito Chico, a 28km road along the edge of Lago Nahuel Huapi and Lago Moreno.  This was the day's challenge.

We had a relaxed start to the morning, including one trip back to the hostel to grab more layers because we'd underestimated the cold wind sweeping down off the mountains.  We then caught the bus to Cerro Campanario, a 1000m hill around 20 mins from Bariloche that enjoys 360 degree views of this spectacular region.  We spurned the chairlift and climbed its wooded slopes by foot, through a thin covering of volcanic ash.  The half-hour climb up the occasionally steep slope through fine grey sand was not easy, but the vista once we arrived made it worthwhile.

Climbing up Cerro Campanario through the ash

View from the top

The  chairlift for those too lazy to climb up

After devouring our sandwiches and the scenery, we began the much easier descent, skipping and sliding back down to the road.  We then walked another kilometre or so, occasionally bathed in ash by passing buses, before we reached the bike rental shop.  Having signed away our lives after a very cursory inspection of the bikes, we strapped on our helmets and pedalled away.  We were told the 28km route would take around 4 hours.

The road started in benign mood, undulating gently with the hills, and we started to think we were in for an easy afternoon.  After around four kilometres, we arrived at the first mirador, a very blustery bridge over Lago Moreno.  From here the road became rather tougher, twisting and turning up through the woods to the highest point of the circuit, overlooking Lago Moreno and Lago Nahuel Huapi beyond.  Since we still had 20km to go, we resisted the temptation of artesanal beer and saucisson.

An early stop, still feeling fairly fresh

At the mirador after a lengthy climb, feeling less fresh

Beer and saucisson? Maybe later...

The road continued to rise and fall beneath the mountains, with views of waterfalls and a solitary condor up to our left.  Next we arrived at Bahia Lopez, where there was a small beach with a few people splashing around in what must have been very cold water.  We crossed a bridge under which Lago Nahuel Huapi seeped into Lago Moreno, where we thought the wind would carry us and the bikes off into the water.  Here what had seemed to be a beach turned out to be a thick sludge of volcanic ash, presumably driven into this alcove by the wind and the current.

Road winding down again

 

Volcanic ash porridge in one corner of the bay

Another 5km along the circuit, through woodland between Moreno and Nahuel Huapi, brought us to Hotel Llao Llao.  Allegedly Argentina's most exclusive hotel, it didn't get off to a great start, gutted by fire only two years after it was built in 1938.  Below was a golf course whose incredible setting more than compensated for the slightly unkempt fairways and greens.  Too bad my clubs were only 8,000 miles away.

From there we rode the final 8km along the shore of Lago Nahuel Huapi, culminating in one last climb up to the bike rental shop.  We handed back the bikes and walked five minutes back towards Bariloche, looking for the small cafe we'd spotted on the way there that had a terrace overlooking the lake.  Clem had been looking forward to a chocolate fondue since we'd arrived in Bariloche, and we decided this was a good spot to indulge.  The chocolate was good, not too sweet, and well-accompanied by a Patagonian beer.

Chocolate fondue overlooking the lake

As the late-afternoon sun faded and the terrace became distinctly chilly, we walked back up to the bus stop.  After several passing tourbuses had spat ash in our faces, the bus back to Bariloche finally arrived.  We spent the evening planning horse-riding for the following day and our trip east to Parque National Valdes on the Atlantic coast.  Dinner was not memorable, but a couple of glasses of red prepared us well for sleep.