Posts Tagged With: ROAD TRIP!

Waking up in a nice, comfy bed, we had breakfast looking out to the garden. We bid our farewells to the nice lady, who were playing with her visiting grandchildren happily in the garden, nice. Needing a bit more pesos, we asked her about where to exchange money in town, so she made a few calls, and exchanged it herself! Ha ha… nice grandma is also illegal foreign exchange player.

What she did mention to us….is that today was Semana Santa, or Holy Week, in which all of Argentina has about a week of vacation! Looking quickly online, there were still a few hotels available but we weren’t sure which city we’d arrive to in the evening, so we didn’t book anything…not a good decision!

We skipped lunch but headed over to the bar and ordered a platter for 2, which included some finger foods and two beers. What we actually got was a table full of meats, cheeses, bread and olives enough for probably 4 people on an empty stomach? Crazy! We sat there surfing the net, nursing our beers and planning our trip and writing our extremely outdated blog.

At 3:15pm, we sprung into action, heading to the nearby establishment that we came here to enjoy…. Naim Maggie. Trevelin was a town originated with a large Welsh settlement in the 1800s, and this is one of the reasons most people come to this border town. The store is still operated by Grandma Maggie’s children/grandchildren, and with her recipes. We entered as soon as the sign swung to “Abierto”, and the whole place had 3 tables including us. When the next group of people came in, they were told to come back at 5:30pm! Wow, lucky us! The tea came with several pieces of buttered toasts and two salty (!?!) scones….. with the lack of variety and the strange salty scones, we drank our tea in bitter disappointment. That was, until the massive platter of sweets showed up…. it didn’t take long before Alan devoured his share of food while Jiajia nibbled on a bit of each. We wrapped up whatever we couldn’t finish, and was totally satisfied with the meal that wasn’t dehydrated or steak.

Back on the road….and this time it was an actual road and not a dirt track! Our destination for the evening was Bariloche and its surrounding cities which are aptly named the Lake District for the abundance of beautiful scenery and lakes around it. Problem was, the roads were slowly increasing in traffic as we passed El Bolson. Originally we planned on staying here for the night but it didn’t look very pretty and even driving 10min into an endless street lined with shops, honking cars and street lights, we turned around and went back onto the highway.

Arriving into Bariloche was even more of a disappointment, as it was jammed pack with cars on both sides of the street, and people weaving in and out of traffic! This must be the true impact of Holy Week!!! We drove around, reading infinite signs of “No Hay Lugar” (No Occupancy) posted outside EVERY hotel office. We are talking…EVERY where, starting about 20km out of Bariloche there were small hotels that had the sign, and also everywhere within town as well. The hotel with an opening we checked back in Trevelin was fully booked, and we were seriously contemplating sleeping in the car for the night. It was 11pm, but with no other alternatives we drove another hour out to the next town, a smaller town which we thought may have availability. Passing through some winding roads in pitch darkness, we could feel the scenery being pretty if only there was any sun….

We drove into Villa Angostura, and the town centre was really crowded despite being midnight. The holiday spirit definitely is alive and well, and the town resembles quite a bit like mountain-resort town of Banff, Alberta. We drove around the town trying to find a place to stay, but with our guidebook managed to locate a nice little campsite outside of town… THAT STILL HAD SPACE!!!! Even though we checked in at 1am, there was still someone there at the camp office. Crazy! We pitched our tent, showered (great facilities in the campsite!), cooked up a pasta meal and were off to bed. From drnking beers at a cool bar to delicious Welsh tea to camping, what a crazy day!

The ONLY reason we are staying in Baja Caracoles is because going from south → north, it is the closest town to the UNESCO heritage site, Las Cuevas de las Manos, or Cave of Hands. Getting out of our awesome hostel, the playful dogs came out to say goodbye and we were on the road before 8:30am.

The gravel roads here are wide and quite well maintained, and the scenery is pretty awesome. Throw in some guanacos and choique (ostrich-like birds) walking around, it was quite fun! The best part was when a fox crossed the road about 300m of the car. After crossing the road, it stopped at the side of the road, sitting perfectly still and observing us as we drove by. We stopped, looked it in the eye and was totally mesmerized by this beautiful creature.

Getting to the actual entrance at 9:55am, we were greeted with a warm welcome from a young man and his father, along with a wonky looking admissions guy and his cuddly cat. Tours start at the hour, so we came just in time for the 10am guided tour! The father wanted a picture, and very friendly, wanting to take one with us as well. He then pointed across the valley to a car atop the edge, and our understanding is that it was HIS car, and they walked down the valley and up again to the park entrance. W T F? We thought he was joking….

The hand paintings reminds us of paintings you might see on the walls of kindergarten classrooms, but when the guide mentioned that they date back up to 9500 YEARS AGO. It took a minute, but lets count again….that’s 7500BC! Wow, respect. Thinking about it, this is probably the first time we’ve seen any form of prehistoric human activity that you’d associate with grade school education. The caves were only housing 30-40 people of a single tribe of hunters, with other locations scattered around the valley containing similar paintings. The strangest part though, is that these paintings lay on PRIVATE land… lets hope they are well preserved. There were some pretty fascinating rock paintings, a foot of a choique, circles denoting pregnant woman, guy with 6 fingers, and the chief’s hand with a massive aura of paint around it. Really, really fascinating.

On our way out, the guide in some broken English asked if we can drive the old man out to the main road. We finally realized they weren’t joking when they said they walked into the park entrance, and the son was going to run back to the car again! The route is pretty damn steep, we’re surprised how the old man managed to get here on foot… so of course we said yes.

The roads out were pretty steep, but driving rally is pretty fun if only the car had better specs. We dropped the old man off at the main road so his son can pick him up, and we were off on our way! The closest town was Perito Moreno, named after an Argentine hero (Like many of the streets and cities). We wanted to stop by for lunch, and managed to find a small restaurant serving some really awesome steaks. Chicken in Argentina has never been a good experience, but on the flip side steak is ALWAYS a good choice no matter where you are! Every two days of so, Alan would have this steak craving which would be easily cured with a visit to any restaurant, or if you’re lucky at the supermarket for the price of a cupcake back home. Strangely enough, the supermarkets never seem to have good meats, you have to be lucky and buy right away!

Delicious lunch and a beautifully scenic drive along Lago Buenos Aires, looking more like an ocean with strong currents than a lake, we arrived into the border town of Los Antiguos. The town was small but its location on the coast of the lake, but it was too early for us to settle and we crossed the border into Chile. Crossing from Argentina into Chile is strange, as the Argentine officers are almost always rude, always in a hurry but fairly hassle free. The Chilean border crossings are less intimidating, but are 100x more tedious. Not sure why, but they are super anal about fruits, vegetables and the sorts from entering the border and do a THOROUGH check of everything. If you drive in, they check your whole car + luggage. If you go through by bus, they check the bus, your carry-ons and every piece of luggage you carry. No jokes here.

Clearing customs and driving into the Chilean border town of 4000 people named Chile Chico, it was not small by our standards. We’ve come to enjoy smaller towns which don’t have the hustle and bustle of the larger cities, but still have the normal comforts of everyday life, and this town made that fine line just spot on. The town was neatly decorated with wooden pillars as you enter the city proper, with patches of grass as the median along the main road and wooden fencing surrounding EVERY PATCH of grass in the whole town. Being built along the lake as well, they weren’t too keen on building nice homes along the lake with good views and didn’t seem to make good use of its geographic location.

We found a nice little cabin with a small kitchen, private bathroom, Wi-Fi in the room, and even satellite TV! We were watching Simpsons in Spanish! Ha ha. Making full use of the kitchen, we wanted to cook our own meal to save some money, and it’s also a way to refrain from eating out all the time. At the market, the fruits and veggies were definitely a bit of a sad selection but considering we’re in the heart of Patagonia it is somewhat expected. The strangest thing though, is that we found SOY SAUCE AND CHINESE NOODLES for sale at the market! W T F? This town, 4000 people, in southern rural of Chile and no Asian faces whatsoever. The best part was when checking out, the cashier looked at the noodles+soy sauce combo and looked at Alan, asking what would be a good way to cook the noodles as if she had no clue!! WHY WOULD THEY HAVE THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE!

We cooked up a storm back at the hostel, having noodles + wine outside in the main yard.

Crazy strange road trip….

We slept in a bit, grabbed a quick breakfast at a small coffee shop while Alan ate leftover greasy pizza (at 10am!). And looks like our map was outdated as there was a gas station at the entrance to the town! It sort of looked like something from rural Nevada back from the 1950s, but as long as it has gas it’ll do. On our way out, we were lucky in that the clouds actually cleared out, and you can get this AMAZING view of the whole mountain range. Our puny imagination was good, but it wasn’t this good! Oh well, maybe one day we’ll come back =)

Where we are now in Patagonia, the roads are built but most of it is gravel. After a drive of about 120km to the next town, we were amazed at how small and uninteresting it was. A one-street town, everything was closed, the winds whipped the sand all around and nobody was walking around. The allure of this region is mainly for its landscapes and so we weren’t too interested in the towns, but we didn’t expect it to be THIS run-down. Ha ha. There’s quite a distance between towns, so we filled up our tank again just in case the next one runs out of gas or something. We also stocked up about 6L of water, just in case we get stuck on the road at least we won’t die of thirst… Actuaries traveling still know they should manage our own mortality risk.

The road was mainly gravel, with intermittent construction zones where it was paved. With our less than optimal SUV, the pavement was such a blessing, even if it only lasts for 5mins. The scenery was expansive, wild and charming all at the same time. Guanacos, the untamed cousin of the llama, can be easily spotted from the main road. The roads were difficult, but added to the experience for sure as we sped our way through gravel terrain without a (human) soul in sight for miles on end.

One strange thing we did notice though, was that the whole of Patagonia is FENCED along the roads, and inbetween parcels of land. Not only is this a monstrous use of human effort, but it was strange as there were barely any animals, or anything you’d really need to fence things out/in from….. Very strange.

Driving for most of the day, we arrived at a small ‘village’ called Baja Caracoles. It was getting late when we arrived, and this was the place we needed to stay for the night as it was the closest town to Las Cuevas de los Manos, a UNESCO Heritage historical site.

The village itself was uninspiring, if not creepy-looking. Driving around the village, you can totally visualize Javier Bardem holding his gas canister in a menacing look walking down the sandy roads, as in the movie No Country for Old Men. We stopped at the gas station to get some gas, and without any attendants or anything we simply drove up, filled our tanks and could’ve easily driven away. Being the honest folk we are, we headed into the gas station to ask if there was a hostel/hotel/camp site/someone’s backyard we could possibly sleep in. The gas station actually had some rooms, but the owner said he was full for the evening… W T F? Okay, whatever, but the best part came next as Alan tried to pay for the $175Peso of gas he put into his car.

With broken Spanish, this is what pans out:

Alan: “I want gas.”
Owner: “Okay” *comes out behind his counter to take Alan to the pump*
Alan: “No, I put gas. Already. Gas already.”
Owner: “Okay, how much?” *walking back to the cash register*
Alan: “100……75” (fading away as he tries to think how to say 175 instead of 100 and 75)
Owner: “100? Okay, give me 100.”
Alan: “No, 100 & 75. 100 & 75” *picks up calculator, types in 175*
Owner: “Oh, 175? Okay, give me 175.”
Alan pays the cash, and goes away thinking how easy it would’ve been to steal gas from this poor fellow. But the rule when it comes to honour system, is that you DO NOT BREAK THE RULES OF THE HONOUR SYSTEM. Shame on whoever breaks the honour system rules! SHAME!

We ask the gas station owner, and discover that there’s a ‘hostel’ in town, and it wasn’t hard to find as the village had fewer than 10 houses. The streets were dark now, but the lights were on but the door was locked, except for a sign in strange Spanish with an arrow pointing to the backyard. We entered, and two dogs happily greeted us, but the owner wasn’t there! This was around 7pm, getting late, and there wasn’t much we can do in a town like this. We waited in the car a bit until the neighbour told us to go to the gas station to look for Antonio. Okay, a 100m drive go to the gas station, but no Antonio there. The gas station owner told us to go to the police station, so another 100m drive we get to the police station but nothing but a small Yorkshire Terrier to greet us. We searched the back for some people, and the police chief told us to go to Antonio’s house, look for the house with the black SUV. Okay, we drive around the 10houses looking for a black SUV, none there!!!

We gave trying to find this elusive Antonio, and since the hostel door was open, we invited ourselves into the main room and set up our camping stove to make a nice single pot pasta meal (pasta + dried soup packages). We waited around, went to the gas station again to buy some snacks for the next day (in case we get stuck somewhere?). Strangely enough, they had some extremely ‘fresh’ tasting Pringles.. whowouldathunkit?

It was 11pm, we’re getting tired and the town is getting sort of creepy. It was creepy when the sun set, and the neighbour didn’t exactly give off the Love Thy Neighbour vibe, more like creepy old man that did 13 murders and had to hide out here, kind of vibe. We were in the hostel, so we just gave up waiting and checked ourselves into the room, which had a private bathroom and surprisingly hot water. It was all built like a temporary portable house but doesn’t matter, the place was clean and the bed was comfy. Alan waited out til midnight, nursing a beer and hopeful to meet this Antonio. No luck and off to bed we went.

At around 2am, someone knocks on the door. In a daze, Alan opens the door to find an extremely alert person who didn’t smell like he was out drinking all night. So…. why the fuck is he awake at 2am and checking his hostel when he could’ve checked it at anytime before 11pm? He was annoyed that we checked into his place without telling him, saying that I should’ve knocked onto a discrete, and totally unmarked door which connects to his own house. OKAY FELLA, fuck you. Anyways, I paid my money and he retreated back into the unmarked door to his own house, while we slept like babies until next morning in a strange start to our road trip.

Interesting day….