22nd October: Riding like a gaucho...

Filled with stories of hot-blooded caballeros (less of an inspiration for John, perhaps), we woke up early for our next adventure: cabalgata, or horse-riding.  A remise (taxi) drove us (plus a French girl called Marie) half-an-hour out of town to a beautiful wooden house on the shore of a lake, surrounded by snow-capped mountains.

In front of the lake

View of the estancia

We were offered tea and fruit-cake for breakfast while we waited for our guide.  He arrived at around 11, dressed like a "chasseur alpin" with a dark outfit and a beret tipped to one side, and introduced himself as Jose.  He didn't seem to mind that we were complete novices, and led us over to our horses, Plumon and Beija.  Thankfully they were both very placid.  We managed to slither up on top of the horses, and Jose led us off towards the lake.

John with Beija

Clem on Plumon

The trek started smoothly, passing along the lakeshore, and became more interesting when we had to cross part of the lake (the water went almost up to my horse's belly, while John had to lift his boots to avoid getting soaked).

View of the lake shore

José crossing the lake (and further below, video)

Naughty dog chasing birds.  Thankfully he did not scare our horses

As well as being placid our horses were fairly greedy, and since they could tell we were amateurs they often stopped to nibble at the grass or leaves.  For the most part we managed to get them moving again, although on one occasion John got in trouble when his urgings prompted his horse to stamp his feet and twist his head back around to face John, making it clear who was in charge.

Coming out of the forest with another naughty dog who later chased a cow and this time scared our horses

Slightly tricky water-crossing

The view over the mountains and crystal-clear lake was stunning, and given our leisurely pace we had plenty of time to enjoy it.  We were far from "hot-blooded caballeros", but it was a great ride!

Back at the house after a two-hour ride, we enjoyed a tasty lunch and a bottle of red, while admiring the view over the lake through the large windows.  We were then driven back to Bariloche, where we had our picture taken with the St. Bernards and then chilled for a while before catching the 6pm bus across the country to Puerto Madryn on the Atlantic coast.

Tourists with San Bernards on Bariloche's main plaza