Panorama City

Wow I´ve just been having a flick through the blog from the start. What a ride! But time is steadily ticking on and we are coming close to the end of this wee chapter. I´ll get started with a little observation about business and parties in Argentina. Here it is the overwhelming fashion for guys to always arrange to have their business at the front and their party at the back. If you´re completely lost, I´m talking mullets baby, the hairstyle that was the bane of 80s fashion in NZ which traditionally went hand in hand with short shorts, singlets and a can of DB. We´ve seen all manner from the traditional curly hair mullet, to the tinted twin tail mullet. Fantastic!

We boosted from Mendoza on our longest bus extravaganza to date. It turns out Argentina is actually really really big, and we had only begun to see it. Our initial plan was to head towards Bariloche and the northern part of Patagonia while stopping at a few places along the way, only there wasn´t really anywhere on the way, just miles and miles of flat plains. We arrived at last at the town of San Martin de los Andes, winter haven for the elite and famous. The fancy town houses were built almost entirely of stone and stained timber and the place had the midweek desertion of a holiday home town. While we were there we decided to trek up to a lookout with views of the surrounding mountains and lakes. We got pretty well abysmally lost as the path split into dozens of tracks all over the hills and my theory that "the lookout must be at the top of the hill so we should climb up" only really works when there is only one hill, in this case there wasn´t... We eventually made it to the top just in time for the sunset over a scene very reminiscent of Lake Wanaka.

Our next stop took us to the town of Villa de Angostura, so named for its location on a thin strip of land and the beginning of a peninsula which juts out into the lake. It was a small town and seemed much more relaxed, although just as touristy as San Martin. We were well into panorama country here, pretty well wherever we went there were cracking views of snowy mountains draped with lush pine forests towering over crystal clear lakes. We spent the next few days walking and cycling around to various lookouts for fantastic views of all the mountains, trees and lakes. A few weeks previously, a huge storm had dumped piles of snow in the area and some of the tracks (including the one out on the peninsula) were wrecked and closed by landslides, debris and fallen trees but we didn´t let this slow us down. There was also plenty of time for our new favourite pastime, lazing around by lakes.

In these picturesque resorty towns we discovered something that we hadn´t counted on. From a lookout near Angostura overlooking Lake Nahuel Huapi, we spied a beautiful wee bay with a few bobbing fishing boats and a small boardwalk which looked like the perfect place to stop for lunch. But when we walked down to it we discovered it was private land and we couldn´t access the waterfront. This was the case all over the area, we found that most of the best spots were owned by hotels or private houses and coming from NZ where anyone can lawfully wander the waterfront this was a bit of a surprise.

Our last stop in the Lake District was the ski resort city of Bariloche, famous for having the largest ski field in South America, Cerro Catedral, and just across the lake from Angostura. Bariloche was a strange town in many ways. During our stay there seemed to be an invasion of rich high school kids on organised trips who were staying at fancy hotels and would wander the streets at night in huge packs yelling school chants. Another wierd aspect was the noddy town like city centre, which seemed like some tacky mockery of Swiss architecture, while the rest of the city looked like a pretty normal city. Obviously some resident felt they needed to clear up any confusion because outside the centre was graffitied "Esto no es Barilcohe" (This is not Bariloche).

Our trekking around the Bariloche area took us out on a peninsula on the lake that had another lake within it which was really quite spectacular. We headed away from the road following a track marked on the map which showed a way through the forest to a beach at the head of the peninsula. Unfortunately this track had been nailed by the storm and we spent the next four hours bush bashing our way through debris, snow and thickets of thorns to find ourselves at a lookout far above the coast. It was here that Tessa decided that there must be a track down to the beach shown on the map and we further bush bashed our way down the cliff, through private property and past barking guard dogs, Tessa took a detour through the lake, and finally to a tranquil and nearly deserted beach with the obligatory fantastic vistas of trees, lake and mountains.

Being so close to such an enormous ski field we were obliged to head up and give it a go, despite bad reports of the slushy spring snow. As we have become budget hounds in our travels, we found the cheapest place in town to rent gear and proceeded to get decked out for our retro ski day. Fitted out with our straight skis, space boots, battered red poles and me with toilet paper jammed between my googles to stop them fogging up, we were absolutely the least stylish people on the mountain that day and possibly all season. The ski field was huge and criss crossed with gondolas and lifts of every variety. It took a couple of hours for us to figure out where we were and where we were going. After battling with the shoddy gear, white out conditions and nasty icy snow for a bit in the morning we eventually found our way to some really good runs and went flat out for the afternoon.

Wine and Snow

One can´t write about Argentina for too long without mentioning the Argentinians obsession with maté. Maté is a particular blend of tea brewed strong and sipped from small cups through a straw with a strainer fitted at the end. The cup is stuffed full of leaves and a small amount of hot water is added. Everywhere you go you see people sipping on their straws, any outing to the park or beach isn´t complete without a thermos of hot water and a couple of maté cups. Che Guevara would sip maté while playing chess as it would "lubricate the mind".

Anyway back to the action....

One thing we had missed out on doing in Cafayate, surrounded my all those vineyards, was to go on a wine tour and we were quite determined to remedy that in Mendoza, the heart of Argentine wine country. We hired some bikes and set off along the Ruta del Vino on a sunny spring day with another NZer, a scot and an irish girl we had met at our hostel. As it turned out, most of the wineries charged for tastings so it was much cheaper for the five of us to go shares in a bottle so this is precisely what we did. By the 3rd winery we became tired of the gruelling cycling part of the day and set up camp on some bean bags in the sun surrounded by vines and almond trees. Over the course of the rest of the afternoon we moved only to avoid the shade cast by the setting sun and we polished off another four bottles, mostly malbecs and a rather nice aged syrah.

Mendoza itself was a bustly town which was all geared up for outdoor adventures. There were streets lined with outdoor stores, ski gear hire shops and tour agencies as well as huge bare deciduous trees which served to remind you of the countryside surrounding the city.

Our other big adventure in Mendoza was going skiing in the Andes. We hired our gear and took off for three days at Los Penitentes, a small field nestled between towering cliffs near the Chilean border. We were at the field mid week so, apart from queues of trucks thundering their way past towards the border and a squad of army guys training on the slopes, the place was very quiet. At times we had the place to ourselves and there was certainly nothing resembling a lift queue but equally things were pretty boring off the field at night.

The highlight of our days on the slopes was on the last day, following some rubbish weather the previous day, we woke up to find a decent covering of fresh powder on the field. We had planned to ski only half the day and go and see a natural bridge in the area but that plan was quickly flagged as we rushed up the mountain to gouge our tracks in the fresh snow. Great time all in all and it was awesome to finally get in some skiing this year.

Poi Polloi

After our lazy days in the countryside we made a bee line for the big city. After stopping briefly in Tucuman (where the girl at the hostel advised us to move on cause there was nothing to do there!) we made our way to Argentina´s second biggest city, Córdoba. We arrived to find tumbleweeds rolling through the main streets while the sounds of our footsteps echoed from the buildings. Yep you guessed it, we´d arrived at siesta time on a Saturday afternoon and most of the shops wouldn´t open again until Monday morning. That night after I found us a really sweet hostel to stay in, we wandered across a very cool arts market nestled within a block of boutique clothing stores and fancy wine bars. This was pretty much the trendiest place we´d been in South America.

On Sunday we figured we would join the rest of the population in having a chilled out day. We took a picnic lunch (including our giant block of cheese) to the huge San Martín park and lazed about while people peddaled boats in the lake and kids played hide-and-go-seek. It was also a chance to delve into our hippy sides and show off our limited poi skills. Afterwards we went to the beautiful fine arts museum to see a somewhat overrated and small Picasso exhibition as well as the more interesting local permanent displays. Also while in Córdoba we chanced upon a spooky 18th century former Jesuit crypt that had been rediscovered beneath a main road in the 80´s.

We celebrated Tessa´s birthday in Córdoba exploring the mazes of malls and shops in the main shopping district and later went out for a fancy-ish dinner followed by some drinks in the bar district by the river with Hannes, a german guy we met at our sweet hostel.

We did a bunch of day trips from Córdoba to smaller towns in the area. The first of these was to a town called Alta Gracia which had a small museum in the former house of its most famous resident Che Guevara. I wanted to get a picture of us on the famous motorcycle (although I might´ve had to rename the blog) but they had obviously seen us coming and it was rigged to the teeth with alarms. The museum was an interesting run through his life and death (another famous person done in by the Bolivian military) and included some letters he had written to his family showing just what an intense wee commie he was. Che is a bit of a hero in South America, his clichéd face is on t-shirts and backpacks everywhere, there are even simpson knock-offs "Che Homero".

The resort town of Carlos Paz was in fact pretty sleepy and quiet being midweek during the "low season". As on Sunday we just spent time by the, quite pretty lake working on our poi skills and afterwards got icecreams that were as big as our heads (never eat anything bigger than your head!!). We also visited one of the towns premium attractions, a giant cuckoo clock, designed by two engineers (need I say more?). This garish monster had been pulling the crowds for 50 odd years!

Our last mission took us to the town of La Falda and, feeling a bit more active and because there was no lake to laze by (only a grimy duck pond), we hiked up to the top of a hill overlooking the area. We battled high winds at the top to practice pois before heading back to town for a hot Submarino (hot milk with a whole chocolate bar dunked in).

Summery Days

Factoid: Argentina is a country riddled with an epidemic of broken toilet cisterns. We have not come across a single toilet without some makeshift flushing mechanism utilising everything from electrical wire to used matchsticks. At least all the toilets have had seats though!

Well we came into Cafayate not knowing what to expect and it was full of very pleasant and sometimes wierd surprises. The town itself is small enough to be very relaxed and in the surrounding countryside there was heaps to do. We were lucky enough to experience fantastic weather which was reminiscent of late summer days in Hawkes Bay.

We were able to take full advantage of the weather at our hostel which was slightly out of town and oddly enough, mostly abandoned. The hostel had a huge backyard with gardens and a rambling grapevine which made a great setting for breakfast. Also because there were virtually no staff at the hostel, which was an offshoot of a larger hostel in the centre of town, the place felt like our own.

On our first night we wandered to explore the town a little and aside from dozens of designer mullets, we came across some sort of youth group performance on a huge stage outside the cathedral. After a rendition of "If you´re happy and you know it" in spanish, some of the older kids launched into lipsynching to dreadful love songs. Tessa was transfixed but I managed to pull her away before the kareoke got too much for me.

We went on a few trips from Cafayate. The first was a trip to the Quebrada (gorge (I think!)) north of the town which was a collage of layered rock formations whittled out of protruding cliffs by water and wind. The highlight for me was a formation called the Ampitheatre which was exactly that, a huge circular, acoustically brilliant hollow complete with a guy cranking out tunes on a pan pipe. We cruised around the formations in a spacious tourist van with a few others including a really cool italian couple, Jacobo and Serena, who were staying at our otherwise deserted hostel. These guys were basically our flatmates at the hostel and we shared some good yarns (and chocolate!).

Our other trip saw us renting bikes for the day and cycling past sweeping bare vineyards to a lush green river valley. We hiked up the valley and, losing the track several times, scrabbled over huge rocks and up small waterfalls. I was silly enough to go for a quick dip in a freezing cold pool.

After a few days in Cafayate, soaking up the great weather and cooking delicious food from the local market, we finally managed to force ourselves to move on from our relaxing paradise. Still not wanting to face the bustle of the city, we boosted on to another small town called Tafí del Valle. Here we went on a few big walks on the recommendation of one of the hostel staff. The first of these took us eventually to a local cheese factory where we were hoping for some free samples. We were met however, with an almost hostile attitude when we arrived. After being curtly told there were no tastings, we were taken on a tour of the factory which consisted of the following:

"This is where we make the cheese. That is some cheese we made this morning. This way to the shop."

Because we are suckers and because we had walked for hours to get to the cheese factory we ended up buying a kilo of their cheese! It did last us a good few sandwiches and pasta dishes.