The journey back to Santiago from Buenos Aires was delightful in that it was uneventful. Given the events of the last week we were both grateful for that.
Once we'd arrived at Santiago, we scoped out the airport looking for the Qantas desk. There wasn't one, so we talked to LAN Chile instead - they operate the flight to Auckland and Sydney on Qantas' behalf. We were told that it wasn't possible to tell us whether we would be successful in getting on that night's flight, as the shared Qantas/LAN booking system wasn't accessible until check-in opened at 7:30pm. Come back then, we were told, and we did - after killing some time by heading into town for an hour or so.
We returned to the airport at about 6:30pm and joined the check-in queue which to our surprise was already building. To our even greater surprise, the eight people in front of us all took their turn to line up at the check-in counter, and then didn't load their luggage. "Oh bugger" we thought. Perhaps we weren't the only people stuck on standby. When our turn at the counter came, the check-in clerk fiddled with her computer terminal for what seemed like an eternity, before telling us simply to come back at 10pm.
We returned at about 9:30pm and waited until the throng of people dwindled to those who were on standby. There were about 20 of us. A general air of disinformation and confusion reigned. Eventually the three people who had been at the front of the queue were given boarding cards. No explanation was offered to us or any of the others. Some people got angry, especially when it transpired that despite everything it was still possible to buy your way onto the flight... with a $3700US price tag attached (which more than paid for the cost of bumping some other passenger to the next day's flight).
Completely demoralised, we were left with no option but to spend the night in Santiago. While waiting we had spent some time chatting to Marc, an Irish guy in the same boat as us. He had spent the previous night staying at "Hostal de Sammy" where we had stayed two weeks previously, and knew that they had beds available. It was an easy decision to share a cab back to Sammy's with Marc and vent our frustration by getting drunk in Sammy's back yard.
Sunday morning's hangover turned into the afternoon's resolve to get ourselves on that plane. We arrived at the airport a ridiculous 4 hours before check-in even opened, and so had the pleasure of starting the queue (having seen the three at the front of the queue get on the night before, we were determined not to miss out). Our hopes were raised when LAN's manager even confided in us that as the plane was only overbooked by 5 seats this time, there was a better chance of us getting on than on Saturday. However our hopes were later dashed - no standby passengers would be allowed to board. Wishing that the LAN manager hadn't said anything at all, we stored our backpacks at the airport and got the bus back to Sammy's.
On Monday a terrible feeling of getting used to the drill began to set in. Determined not to waste our cash on overpriced airport food, we went to the supermarket with Marc and prepared a good lunch and sandwiches for later. We got to the airport at 4pm and started the queue again. Amazingly we managed to pass the time quite easily by playing cards and travel scrabble, and greeting the by now familiar faces of the other standby passengers.
Once check-in opened we followed the drill of going to the counter, pleading our case, and being told to come back at 10pm. None of our small group seemed optimistic, and after probably a few too many beers we returned to the check-in counter to see people continuing to check in until well past 10pm - much later than on Sunday. It didn't look good. "Just a few more days of this, then let's sack it off and go to Bolivia or something" was the backup plan that we formulated to pass the time until the date that we would definitely be able to travel - March 8th.
Then apropos of nothing the LAN manager started calling out from a list of passenger names. Two names at first. Then three of the family of five who were on their seventh night of waiting. "Well at least there's some progress" we thought, assuming that the fact that not the whole family would be boarding would not bode well for our chances. But our luck was in. First Hannah's name was called, together with Marc's and another passenger's. Was I not going also? Quickly Hannah and I decided that she should go whether I could go or not. But then my name was called too. Amazed, we headed for passport control, Hannah even doing a cartwheel along the way. At the gate the plane was delayed so there was time for more beers and for sending messages to Hamish and Kirsten in New Zealand... we were on our way at last!
Robin
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
Back in BA
The bus from Mendoza arrived at Retiro bus station at 8am. We caught a taxi straight to the British embassy in Recoleta. It was Wednesday morning, 23rd January.
Our haste derived from our fear that there could well be a queue of other poor unfortunates in similar situations to ours, waiting from the early hours to have their passport applications processed. Thankfully this wasn't the case and we were the first in when the consular section's counter opened at 9am.
Once inside I had to fill out a passport application form and hand over the Mendoza police report along with two passport photos and a whopping 750 pesos in cash (about £125). The new passport would be ready to collect on Friday, just two days later. Phew.
Armed with the knowledge that we could start to make travel plans again, we booked flights with a budget airline to enable us to return to Santiago from Buenos Aires on Saturday morning. We also visited the local Qantas office, where we were told that as there were no seats that could be reserved in January or February on the Santiago - Auckland flight, we would be waitlisted. Not really knowing what this meant, we set about doing some of the things we had wanted to do in Buenos Aires but hadn't found time for last time around, and generally killed time until we could pick up my passport and return to Santiago.
Robin
Our haste derived from our fear that there could well be a queue of other poor unfortunates in similar situations to ours, waiting from the early hours to have their passport applications processed. Thankfully this wasn't the case and we were the first in when the consular section's counter opened at 9am.
Once inside I had to fill out a passport application form and hand over the Mendoza police report along with two passport photos and a whopping 750 pesos in cash (about £125). The new passport would be ready to collect on Friday, just two days later. Phew.
Armed with the knowledge that we could start to make travel plans again, we booked flights with a budget airline to enable us to return to Santiago from Buenos Aires on Saturday morning. We also visited the local Qantas office, where we were told that as there were no seats that could be reserved in January or February on the Santiago - Auckland flight, we would be waitlisted. Not really knowing what this meant, we set about doing some of the things we had wanted to do in Buenos Aires but hadn't found time for last time around, and generally killed time until we could pick up my passport and return to Santiago.
Robin
From the best of days to the worst of days
The previous blog post ended on an upbeat note but at about 7:30pm on Monday 21st January our world was temporarily turned upside down.
Following our return to town after our horse riding trip, we decided to go to an internet cafe to check on the status of our flights to Auckland, amongst other things.
Once in front of the computer screen I put my "man-bag" (shoulder bag) on the floor next to my feet. A couple of minutes later I needed a reservation code or something and retrieved it from the scrap of paper it had been scribbled on, squirreled away in the bag. Another couple of minutes later, I went to put the piece of paper back in the bag. But the bag was nowhere to be seen.
Our constant moving on from place to place had accustomed us to ensuring that we put our things back in the places that they came from. Using this technique we had so far got packing up our room and leaving a hostel down to an art - all done inside of 20 minutes! The problem with this was that I was accustomed to keeping all sorts of valuables inside the "man-bag". With the theft of the bag I had lost our digital camera, our portable hard disk, my driving license, and worst of all, my passport.
What the hell were we going to do? We were due to exit Argentina, travel through Chile and onto New Zealand the next day, for crying out loud!
The police were called but did nothing of real use except for giving us a lift in a patrol car to the local police station where after an hour of waiting we were able to file a report. The purpose of this report, it transpired later, was to allow me to obtain a new passport, leave the country without being fined for the lack of an entry stamp, and file an insurance claim. Slowly it dawned on us that our stuff was not going to come back.
The next morning we contacted the British consulate in Mendoza who unfortunately could not process any passport applications except via a laborious process of posting forms and documents back and forth from the embassy in Buenos Aires. Realising that this could take weeks, by nightfall we were on a night bus back to the capital. Strangely enough, it was the most comfortable bus ride we ever took in Argentina, with seats that reclined into fully flat beds.
Following our return to town after our horse riding trip, we decided to go to an internet cafe to check on the status of our flights to Auckland, amongst other things.
Once in front of the computer screen I put my "man-bag" (shoulder bag) on the floor next to my feet. A couple of minutes later I needed a reservation code or something and retrieved it from the scrap of paper it had been scribbled on, squirreled away in the bag. Another couple of minutes later, I went to put the piece of paper back in the bag. But the bag was nowhere to be seen.
Our constant moving on from place to place had accustomed us to ensuring that we put our things back in the places that they came from. Using this technique we had so far got packing up our room and leaving a hostel down to an art - all done inside of 20 minutes! The problem with this was that I was accustomed to keeping all sorts of valuables inside the "man-bag". With the theft of the bag I had lost our digital camera, our portable hard disk, my driving license, and worst of all, my passport.
What the hell were we going to do? We were due to exit Argentina, travel through Chile and onto New Zealand the next day, for crying out loud!
The police were called but did nothing of real use except for giving us a lift in a patrol car to the local police station where after an hour of waiting we were able to file a report. The purpose of this report, it transpired later, was to allow me to obtain a new passport, leave the country without being fined for the lack of an entry stamp, and file an insurance claim. Slowly it dawned on us that our stuff was not going to come back.
The next morning we contacted the British consulate in Mendoza who unfortunately could not process any passport applications except via a laborious process of posting forms and documents back and forth from the embassy in Buenos Aires. Realising that this could take weeks, by nightfall we were on a night bus back to the capital. Strangely enough, it was the most comfortable bus ride we ever took in Argentina, with seats that reclined into fully flat beds.
Monday, 28 January 2008
Mendoza
Mendoza is a sizeable city that resembles an oasis in a desert. Wide avenues of trees downtown provide shelter from the incessant sun, fed by a complex system of irrigation channels tapping Andean snowmelt from the River Mendoza. The guidebooks say that these acequias burble down every street - but although there was definitely some burbling, too often the channels get clogged by rubbish.
(It's the same story in many parts of South America - we have lost count of the times we have said to each other "oh, this place is beautiful, it's just a shame there's so much litter everywhere!")
Having not decided until late to come to Mendoza, we couldn't find anywhere to stay on our first night on town through the normal hostel-booking websites. However we had picked up a flyer for the Hostel Parque Central in Valparaiso and upon calling them discovered that there was room at the inn. However the room turned out to be little more than an open-topped cupboard with no lock on the door, no lockers, and no air-con (an important consideration in Mendoza!). However all this would have been bearable if the young owners of the hostel hadn't decided to throw a party that night - given that our cupboard had no roof and so was open to all the noise emanating up the staircase - there was little option to grin and bear it. We woke up early and left.
Accommodation was still proving hard to find on that Friday morning but we scored an amazing victory by finding an 'apart hotel' run by one of the hostels - so achieving a perfect balance of space, privacy, cleanliness, and amazingly, cheapness. We had a patio, a kitchen, a bedroom, and bathroom (space for four people in truth) for 100 Argentine pesos, whereas the dump we stayed in the night before had cost us 60 pesos. Given the relative luxury, it was easy to decide to stay one day longer than planned, until the morning of our flight onwards to Auckland.
We spent quite a lot of time in Mendoza doing not much, relaxing at the 'apart'. However we did manage to visit three different wineries, two of them via bicycle, and go on a four-hour horse ride in the Andean foothills. From two of the wineries we bought bottles, and spent enjoyable evenings supping them back at the 'apart' and showing off our new-found knowledge of wine-tasting to each other. The horse ride was followed by a real Argentine asado back at the rudimentary stables prepared by the young Argentine guys who had led the horse trek, who apropos of nothing produced a guitar from somewhere and started to regale us with traditional folk songs.
All in all we thought this was a good way to round off our last full day in South America, and as we were driven back into town we eagerly anticipated crossing back to Santiago the next morning and flying on to Auckland.
(It's the same story in many parts of South America - we have lost count of the times we have said to each other "oh, this place is beautiful, it's just a shame there's so much litter everywhere!")
Having not decided until late to come to Mendoza, we couldn't find anywhere to stay on our first night on town through the normal hostel-booking websites. However we had picked up a flyer for the Hostel Parque Central in Valparaiso and upon calling them discovered that there was room at the inn. However the room turned out to be little more than an open-topped cupboard with no lock on the door, no lockers, and no air-con (an important consideration in Mendoza!). However all this would have been bearable if the young owners of the hostel hadn't decided to throw a party that night - given that our cupboard had no roof and so was open to all the noise emanating up the staircase - there was little option to grin and bear it. We woke up early and left.
Accommodation was still proving hard to find on that Friday morning but we scored an amazing victory by finding an 'apart hotel' run by one of the hostels - so achieving a perfect balance of space, privacy, cleanliness, and amazingly, cheapness. We had a patio, a kitchen, a bedroom, and bathroom (space for four people in truth) for 100 Argentine pesos, whereas the dump we stayed in the night before had cost us 60 pesos. Given the relative luxury, it was easy to decide to stay one day longer than planned, until the morning of our flight onwards to Auckland.
We spent quite a lot of time in Mendoza doing not much, relaxing at the 'apart'. However we did manage to visit three different wineries, two of them via bicycle, and go on a four-hour horse ride in the Andean foothills. From two of the wineries we bought bottles, and spent enjoyable evenings supping them back at the 'apart' and showing off our new-found knowledge of wine-tasting to each other. The horse ride was followed by a real Argentine asado back at the rudimentary stables prepared by the young Argentine guys who had led the horse trek, who apropos of nothing produced a guitar from somewhere and started to regale us with traditional folk songs.
All in all we thought this was a good way to round off our last full day in South America, and as we were driven back into town we eagerly anticipated crossing back to Santiago the next morning and flying on to Auckland.
Back over the Andes
On the Thursday 17th January we left Valparaiso bound for Mendoza, back over the Andes in Argentina. All the direct buses were sold out so we had to first get back to Santiago and procure transport from there. A bit of a detour but not too dramatic.
The Santiago - Mendoza run is a busy route, and we had no trouble buying tickets for a minibus leaving within 30 minutes of our arrival at the bus station. Normally we wouldn't have dreamed of getting a minibus for this kind of distance, but we knew that at the border everyone on public transport would have to disembark, pass through customs and immigration control on foot, and have their bags X-rayed. Given all this, we expected that a minibus would get through quicker than a full bus. (And the verdict... not really! and certainly not worth the discomfort of the seats)
After seeing snow and shivering our socks off at both sides of the border crossing from Bariloche to Osorno, we were darned if we were going to let the weather catch us out again. The Samore pass from Bariloche to Osorno peaked at about 1200m, and we reasoned that, although we were now about 1000km nearer to the equator, the weather was bound to be cold again, especially as this pass peaked at about 3200m. Imagine our surprise, clad in jeans and warm jumpers, me with a woolly hat in my man-bag, with the temperature at about 30°C at the border. And as we drove down to Mendoza, the temperature rose to nearer 40°C. As soon as we were off the minibus we practically stripped off right there on the bus station platform.
The scenery visible from the Santiago - Mendoza road was incredible; the innumerable colours of the Andean rock contrasting with the snow at high level and surprising occasional patches of bright green grass, straggling thinly across the more sheltered slopes. We passed ski lifts and resorts (deserted - out of season) and Chilean and Argentine army training bases. We also caught a glimpse of the 'Puente del Inca' - a natural stone bridge worn away by the River Mendoza, close to the Argentine side of the border. One of the climbs on the Chilean side involved about 27 hairpin bends, one after the other - the bends were even numbered. We also saw a couple of hundred people crossing the pass on horseback, seemingly re-enacting Jose de San Martin's Army of the Andes' crossing from Mendoza to liberate Chile from the Spanish. Not an easy task now, and certainly not 200 years ago...
Robin
The Santiago - Mendoza run is a busy route, and we had no trouble buying tickets for a minibus leaving within 30 minutes of our arrival at the bus station. Normally we wouldn't have dreamed of getting a minibus for this kind of distance, but we knew that at the border everyone on public transport would have to disembark, pass through customs and immigration control on foot, and have their bags X-rayed. Given all this, we expected that a minibus would get through quicker than a full bus. (And the verdict... not really! and certainly not worth the discomfort of the seats)
After seeing snow and shivering our socks off at both sides of the border crossing from Bariloche to Osorno, we were darned if we were going to let the weather catch us out again. The Samore pass from Bariloche to Osorno peaked at about 1200m, and we reasoned that, although we were now about 1000km nearer to the equator, the weather was bound to be cold again, especially as this pass peaked at about 3200m. Imagine our surprise, clad in jeans and warm jumpers, me with a woolly hat in my man-bag, with the temperature at about 30°C at the border. And as we drove down to Mendoza, the temperature rose to nearer 40°C. As soon as we were off the minibus we practically stripped off right there on the bus station platform.
The scenery visible from the Santiago - Mendoza road was incredible; the innumerable colours of the Andean rock contrasting with the snow at high level and surprising occasional patches of bright green grass, straggling thinly across the more sheltered slopes. We passed ski lifts and resorts (deserted - out of season) and Chilean and Argentine army training bases. We also caught a glimpse of the 'Puente del Inca' - a natural stone bridge worn away by the River Mendoza, close to the Argentine side of the border. One of the climbs on the Chilean side involved about 27 hairpin bends, one after the other - the bends were even numbered. We also saw a couple of hundred people crossing the pass on horseback, seemingly re-enacting Jose de San Martin's Army of the Andes' crossing from Mendoza to liberate Chile from the Spanish. Not an easy task now, and certainly not 200 years ago...
Robin
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Valparaíso
'Valpo' as the locals call it, is a faded, or should that be crumbling, coastal city that was once grand and affluent due to its importance as the gateway port to south america from the Pacific. The geography of the area is that of craggy 'cerros' on top of which houses are stacked in all manner of configurations, mostly all clad in corrugated iron decorated in colourful, if flaking, paint. This poor city suffered an economic slump when the Panama Canal was inaugerated along with no less than 3 earthquakes in the last 100 years. In someways Valparaíso seems doomed. There was a forest fire the day we arrived, burning down more than seventy houses.
A couple of the cerros are very attractive, where the bohemian locals have made a real effort to spruce up the buildings and open attractive cafes, craft shops and the odd gallery and we spent a nice day wondering about and taking in the view of the pacific and the bustling container port, complete with naval ships in the distance.
To reach any of the cerros (some of which, we were warned by our hostel, were 'no go areas') you can climb up steep, rough lanes or take an 'ascensor'. Yep you guessed it another silly form of transport to enjoy. These funiculars are little more than wooden boxes that are hoisted up the side of the hill, and are very cheap. At the top there are usually great views and the obligatory 'feria artesania' or craft fair (selling the usual cheap, poor quality hippy stuff or rip offs of the traditional mapuche textiles - steer well clear!) In fact Valparaíso has more than one form of silly transportation to choose from - the 'trolley buses' are quite charming, some being swiss and from the 20's or 30's, but very slow. (Hannah)
While in Valpo we also visited neighbouring Viña del Mar, a short distance away via the hair-raising micros (minibuses who compete with each other for fares, with consequently little consideration of passenger comfort, let alone the safety of those who might wish to board them) or via the modern metro train. We took the latter and were amazed to find such a clean, quiet and efficient service... most train lines in South America have been abandoned. Viña was fun for a day at the beach - and seemed a lot more developed than Valpo. In fact after our visit we worked out that Viña del Mar and Valparaíso are essentially two halves of the same city - one crumbling yet historic, and the other modern and commercial. (Robin)
Our beach experience was quite hilarious, in fact, as the waves crashed onto the shore quite violently and the water was freezing. Once nice and toasty from the sun we went and cooled off for a bit. This consisted of us standing on the water's edge, and then running madly in the opposite direction as the waves came splashing in, frequently drenching us! Robin eventually made it into the water head first and was tossed about as if in a washing machine. When he surfaced there were complaints that the sand had gotten into all sorts of places it really shouldn't be. I was the weed this time, and never made it beyond waist deep. Brrrr! (Hannah)
Another feature of Valpo was the hostel we stayed at, the 'Yoyo'. This was a great place to meet people, although it was essentially obligatory to party every night, or listen to everyone else having fun right outside your door. We had a great time here and met some very clued-up travellers as well as some americans. No, that's not fair really, although there are a LOT of americans travelling in Chile - far more than in Argentina. (Robin)
Friday, 18 January 2008
More Santiago
We went to the Mercado Central, hoping to see fresh produce in similar quantities and quality to that of Temuco. However, it is a much smaller venue and is predominantly for fish, and even more so, fish restaurants aimed at tourists with touts vying for business every second step. Not to be detererred and determined to sit down to one of the local fish dishes so lauded by our 'good book' we dodged the touts and found a small restaurant at the side of the market, where actual Chileans (yes, really) were dining. I had a type of 'cazuela de Mariscos,' literally shellfish caserole, that had no less than 9 different types of seafood in it ...clams, cockels, scallops, octopus, mussels were the ones I could name. A couple of them were quite difficult to swallow, not least beacuase they were so peculiar and I didn't recognise them, let alone know their names - it was however, delicious. Robin played it safe and had salmon. Wimp!
Hannah
Santiago
The journey to Santiago on the 12th January was good, not because of the food offered - a super sweet black coffee or 'cafécito' and a cookie - but because we took the 9 hour journey during the day. As Larry had mentioned to Robin on Facebook recently, "night-buses are a false economy". This is true; we have suffered 4 journeys of endless swaying in the darkness, arriving at stupid-o'clock in the morning, needing desperately to recover by crashing out for a few hours, thereby wasting most of the first day anyway. We left Temuco at 7.30 am and actually got to see the landscape of the country we were visiting (including a volcano undergoing a small-scale eruption - the dark clouds and haze in the picture below are the dust and ash...)
To be fair, some of the night-buses in Argentina really would not have been exciting as day rides - from Puerto Madryn to Esquel would have been painfully boring after the first hour or so, as it is barren desert and scrub most of the way). However, as long as there has been something to see, we have always enjoyed the 5 hour bus journeys, so it makes sense that a 9 hour one would be worth it too, it's only taken us 6 weeks to figure this out!
(Horse Trials: We stretched our legs for 5 minutes at Chillán bus station, where there was a hawker selling pastries and the like. He also had packets of jerky... having heard about llama jerky, we thought we would give it a try. Having succesfully purchased, we were about to tear open the packet when we noticed the picture of a horses head on it, and not that of a llama as you might expect. Needless to say, we wimped out, and exchanged it for a couple of empanadas. These had an unfamiliar taste and unrecognisable filling...)
We passed though the valley that lies between the Andes cordillera and the Pacific Cordillera mountain ranges. It is wide and flat and green. There are countless farms with the now familiar scene of fileds of corn rows and herds of cows. These small holdings interspersed the far greater commercial farms growing all types of fruit and vegetables. As we approached Santiago the vegetable and fruit crops gave way soley to vineyards.
Fantastic. Why had it not dawned on us sooner that we were diving head first into Latin America's most well known wine glass? First thing on our 'to do list' was to head for the vineyard of international brand 'Concha y Toro'. The location was very handy from the city of Santiago, being just a short taxi ride away from the last underground metro stop. Nowadays this historic 'viña' is more the commercial head quarters of the company, sited in the old grounds of the original. The buildings and gardens date from the 1820's, and are very picturesque. The experience was informative, if only to realise what huge outfits the winemakers of Chile have become, the sales pitch video at the start of the tour further enhanced the commerciality of it all. But you know, I'm not grumbling, we got to taste three very nice bottles. Unfortunately not the whole bottle though.
One of the wines we quaffed is known at home, called 'Casillero del Diablo', which comes in a variety of 'flavours' (okay, so I don't know the lingo yet....) or grapes.
Santiago is a pretty pleasing city, with a back drop of the Andes. Beautiful. If you could see them. The city suffers from smog, and the protected mountain ranges surrounding it are barely visible most of the time, even when we took the daft funicular to the top of Cerro San Cristóbal, one of the many hills that pop from nowhere from the flat cityscape. At the top of the Cerro is 14m high statue of the Virgen Mary, a small chapel, and piped choral music. A little surreal.
The hostal we stayed at was another dorm bunk experience, but this time sharing with 5 others. The breakfast was a DIY affair of yogurt, wholemeal bread, fruit, juice, tea/coffee. I mention this because breakfast is of such insignificance to latin americans that the offering to hungry travellers is often pretty meagre. We had a couple of great evenings chatting to folk from Sweden, Austria, Germany, and an Italian who had been living in Archway just up the road from Holloway. The down point was that Charles, the American owner, and his hobo helpers from the US and Canada (people work in hostels in exchange for board while travelling) didn't really understand the concept of cleanliness....the kitchen floor wouldn't even know what a mop was. The sheets were clean though and the intermittent showers sufficient!
Hannah
(Horse Trials: We stretched our legs for 5 minutes at Chillán bus station, where there was a hawker selling pastries and the like. He also had packets of jerky... having heard about llama jerky, we thought we would give it a try. Having succesfully purchased, we were about to tear open the packet when we noticed the picture of a horses head on it, and not that of a llama as you might expect. Needless to say, we wimped out, and exchanged it for a couple of empanadas. These had an unfamiliar taste and unrecognisable filling...)
We passed though the valley that lies between the Andes cordillera and the Pacific Cordillera mountain ranges. It is wide and flat and green. There are countless farms with the now familiar scene of fileds of corn rows and herds of cows. These small holdings interspersed the far greater commercial farms growing all types of fruit and vegetables. As we approached Santiago the vegetable and fruit crops gave way soley to vineyards.
Fantastic. Why had it not dawned on us sooner that we were diving head first into Latin America's most well known wine glass? First thing on our 'to do list' was to head for the vineyard of international brand 'Concha y Toro'. The location was very handy from the city of Santiago, being just a short taxi ride away from the last underground metro stop. Nowadays this historic 'viña' is more the commercial head quarters of the company, sited in the old grounds of the original. The buildings and gardens date from the 1820's, and are very picturesque. The experience was informative, if only to realise what huge outfits the winemakers of Chile have become, the sales pitch video at the start of the tour further enhanced the commerciality of it all. But you know, I'm not grumbling, we got to taste three very nice bottles. Unfortunately not the whole bottle though.
One of the wines we quaffed is known at home, called 'Casillero del Diablo', which comes in a variety of 'flavours' (okay, so I don't know the lingo yet....) or grapes.
Santiago is a pretty pleasing city, with a back drop of the Andes. Beautiful. If you could see them. The city suffers from smog, and the protected mountain ranges surrounding it are barely visible most of the time, even when we took the daft funicular to the top of Cerro San Cristóbal, one of the many hills that pop from nowhere from the flat cityscape. At the top of the Cerro is 14m high statue of the Virgen Mary, a small chapel, and piped choral music. A little surreal.
The hostal we stayed at was another dorm bunk experience, but this time sharing with 5 others. The breakfast was a DIY affair of yogurt, wholemeal bread, fruit, juice, tea/coffee. I mention this because breakfast is of such insignificance to latin americans that the offering to hungry travellers is often pretty meagre. We had a couple of great evenings chatting to folk from Sweden, Austria, Germany, and an Italian who had been living in Archway just up the road from Holloway. The down point was that Charles, the American owner, and his hobo helpers from the US and Canada (people work in hostels in exchange for board while travelling) didn't really understand the concept of cleanliness....the kitchen floor wouldn't even know what a mop was. The sheets were clean though and the intermittent showers sufficient!
Hannah
Sunday, 13 January 2008
Temuco
We arrived late on Thursday the 10th Jan in Temuco, and so decided to stay two nights, as we wanted to spend some time looking around the market, and the guidebook we had suggested that there was enough to detain us for a full day (but probably not more than that...)
The 'hospedaje' we stayed in (there are no hostels in Temuco) was a bit of a dump with no breakfast supplied so we went to the central market in search of coffee. The town had seemed a bit grey and dusty the night before but upon arriving at the central market we were pleasantly surprised by how clean and fresh everything now looked, as though someone had given the place a spring clean overnight.
Coffee and empanadas located and consumed, we set off for the Mapuche produce market. Temuco is the trading centre for the indigenous Mapuche people who inhabit the south of Chile, and their market is reknowned in Chile. It didn't disappoint... the market sprawled from its official, modern-looking nucleus into neighbouring halls and sheds, looking ever more ramshackle the further from the nucleus we walked, and even taking over whole city blocks. Several supermarkets located within the market area also competed for trade. And the most immediate thing that struck us was not only how fresh and appealing all the fish, fruit and veg looked (in stark contrast to that generally on sale in Argentina, for example), but how everything had started to look a bit more, well, South American. Both Argentina and Chile are often said to look more like parts of Europe than the rest of South America. Having remarked to another traveller on the Esquel - Bariloche bus that Argentina reminded me a little of Romania, the market in Temuco reminded me somewhat of produce markets in Mexico.
The 'hospedaje' we stayed in (there are no hostels in Temuco) was a bit of a dump with no breakfast supplied so we went to the central market in search of coffee. The town had seemed a bit grey and dusty the night before but upon arriving at the central market we were pleasantly surprised by how clean and fresh everything now looked, as though someone had given the place a spring clean overnight.
Coffee and empanadas located and consumed, we set off for the Mapuche produce market. Temuco is the trading centre for the indigenous Mapuche people who inhabit the south of Chile, and their market is reknowned in Chile. It didn't disappoint... the market sprawled from its official, modern-looking nucleus into neighbouring halls and sheds, looking ever more ramshackle the further from the nucleus we walked, and even taking over whole city blocks. Several supermarkets located within the market area also competed for trade. And the most immediate thing that struck us was not only how fresh and appealing all the fish, fruit and veg looked (in stark contrast to that generally on sale in Argentina, for example), but how everything had started to look a bit more, well, South American. Both Argentina and Chile are often said to look more like parts of Europe than the rest of South America. Having remarked to another traveller on the Esquel - Bariloche bus that Argentina reminded me a little of Romania, the market in Temuco reminded me somewhat of produce markets in Mexico.
The rest of the day was spent buying bus tickets to Santiago for the next day, catching up on the internet, and generally chilling. We even managed a few local specialities... Mote con huesillo is an odd (yet refreshing!) conconction of dried peaches in watery syrup with pearl barley, sold from mobile stands in the park. Pastel de choclo was like a cottage pie, but with the addition of chicken egg and olives in the 'meat' and the replacement of mashed potato with mashed sweetcorn. Again, odd but tasty.
(Another Chilean surprise, food wise is the prevalance of horse meat. We seemed to stumble on a few 'Equino' butchers..... Hannah)
Having planned our trip mostly around Argentina, and having crossed the border from Bariloche as a means of avoiding a 20-hour night bus along the eastern side of the Andes to Mendoza, we hadn't expected much from Chile. But to our surprise we were finding that we were enjoying the change a great deal so far...
Robin
Across the Andes
Leaving Bariloche, our bus took us around the north shore of Lake Nahuel Huapi and westwards towards the Samore pass over a comparatively low section of the Andean cordillera into Chile. We could see that we were getting closer and closer to snowier and snowier mountains, and by the time we arrived at the Argentine border post (some 40km from the Chilean one, on the other side of the pass) it was snowing, and very close to freezing. Stupidly, the one warm piece of clothing I had (a hat bought in Esquel) was buried in the bottom of my rucksack, inaccessible in the hold of the bus. So we shivered inside our hoodies while our fellow 40 passengers cleared passport controls and customs.
Next: the pass. It probably took an hour to traverse the pass, which was not bad considering there was about 4 inches of snow on the road at the top!!! This was an incredible surprise to us - the pass is not particularly high above sea level (about 1300m) and it is supposed to be summer here after all. We got some fantastic photos, as did everyone else on the bus, who all looked as surprised as us (locals included). I guess even for this part of the world snow this low in summer is fairly unusual.
Next: the pass. It probably took an hour to traverse the pass, which was not bad considering there was about 4 inches of snow on the road at the top!!! This was an incredible surprise to us - the pass is not particularly high above sea level (about 1300m) and it is supposed to be summer here after all. We got some fantastic photos, as did everyone else on the bus, who all looked as surprised as us (locals included). I guess even for this part of the world snow this low in summer is fairly unusual.
At the Chilean border post all the bags had to be unloaded and scanned at customs. The snow had gone but it was still very cold. About 2 hours later we arrived in Osorno, where we bought another bus ticket and pressed on to Temuco, another few hours north.
Robin
Bariloche
Bariloche was an easy 4-hour bus ride from Esquel, running parallel with the Andes and through some of the most stunning lake and mountain scenery that either of us had ever seen. However when we got off the bus we noticed a slight chill in the breeze, which we had also felt in Esquel. This was a slight disappointment as we'd come about 250km north and we were hoping that things would warm up a bit!
Bariloche is kind of an odd place - it's pleasant enough and we certainly enjoyed our time here, although it is probably Argentina's biggest holiday destination. The main street was a mixture of naff T-shirt shops and completely over the top chocolate shops (most of which we managed to sample). One even had a chocolate 'factory' attached... check out the look on Hannah's face on the photo below...!
Bariloche is kind of an odd place - it's pleasant enough and we certainly enjoyed our time here, although it is probably Argentina's biggest holiday destination. The main street was a mixture of naff T-shirt shops and completely over the top chocolate shops (most of which we managed to sample). One even had a chocolate 'factory' attached... check out the look on Hannah's face on the photo below...!
Bariloche's setting is beautiful, on the southern shore of the enormous Lake Nahuel Huapi, with snow-clad mountains all around. Our hostel was perched up above the main street, meaning we could enjoy views of the lake and mountains while eating breakfast, which was a nice touch.
Having failed to do any strenuous 'activities' in Esquel, we hired mountain bikes on our first full day in Bariloche to do the 'circuito chico', a great little loop west of town around the edge of the big lake and past a number of smaller ones. The views were incredible, as was our amazement that despite our general lack of exercise to date on this trip, and general atrophying of muscles, we completed the loop (about 25 miles) in one piece. The leg after lunch in Colonia Suiza (a funny little pioneer village set up by Swiss immigrants - come here for your fondue!) was especially tiring. However at least we got a bit of a sweat on, helping to defeat the chilly wind and hints of drizzle that we could start to feel...
The next day we had planned to go horse riding or white water rafting or something equally daft but upon waking were greeted by a torrential rain storm outside. Phew - at least we hadn't pre-booked a tour, I thought, as we caught the shocked expressions of fellow backpackers who had, and didn't want to lose their money (these trips can be pretty expensive!).
We were moving on the next day, west across the Andes into Chile. Someone in our dorm said they had seen snow falling, and we could see a fresh dusting on the hills across the lake. This was going to be interesting...
Robin
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Esquel
We arrived in Esquel at day break on the 4th of January. Blimey it was chilly...really glad I packed a hoody and a long sleeve top (which I was cursing at the start of our trip as the climate here on the west of Argentina is much more temperate compared to the tropical north east, or the dry and windy atlantic coast).
Esquel is a small town, with little of interest except for the 'Parque Nacional de los Alerces' and the steam train 'La Trochita' made famous by Paul Theroux who wrote about it in 'The Old Patagonian Express', a favourite book of mine.
Esquel is a small town, with little of interest except for the 'Parque Nacional de los Alerces' and the steam train 'La Trochita' made famous by Paul Theroux who wrote about it in 'The Old Patagonian Express', a favourite book of mine.
We took La Trochita on Saturday morning, a 3 hour round trip that takes you 20km to a Mapuche indian hamlet called Nahuel Pan and back again. The engine dates from the 1920's but the track was only completed as far as Esquel in 1943. The line was pretty much made defunct 30 years later, so Mr. Theroux was quite lucky to have ridden its length in the '70's. Nowadays it runs the route to Nahuel Pan and a 9 hour jaunt a little further north in tourist season only. A gentle way to pass a morning. Robin bought a knitted hat and I bought a silver ring from the indian craft stalls in Nahuel Pan. (Oh, and I managed to lose my scarf. Again. Permanently this time).
The following day we continued our rather sedate pace and went on a boat tour across 2 glacial lakes in Parque Nacional de los Alerces. The lakes were called 'Lago Futaleufquen' which translates from the Mapuche language as 'lake big lake' and 'Lago Menendez', the former amusing Robin greatly as when he and Paddy were in Chicago in 2000 they discovered that Lake Michigan means 'lake big lake' in the native indian language too. I am supposing now that native indians in any country like stating the obvious...
The boat excursion was great for the scenery, especially as the extended trip we were on is only possible until mid January - the channel between the two lakes is non-navigable once the water level drops in the summer. This trip also allowed us to see an actual glacier on the side of one of the many permanently snow capped peaks surounding the lakes. Fantastic!
The tour also included a guided (yawn) tour of part of the national park to see the Alerces trees, which grow to be very tall and some of which are very old. The 'highlight' being one that is 2,600 years old. While I appreciate the wonder of ancient flora, the contemplative moment I might have had was a little difficult to achieve when surrounded by 40 other tourists gawping at it, probably saying something like "gee, isn't it very big/old/tall!" or "¡ Carumba, está muy, pero, muy grande/viejo/alto!" To be fair, in Argentina something that is over 2000 years old is impressive when you consider that most things of historical interest are only 200 years old or so.
This had been a long day, so it was great to get back to the lovely hostel where we had free reign of the kitchen, patio and sitting room. This place was probably the most chilled out place we have kipped in so far, with friendly and helpful owners. Just as well really as Esquel's food and drinking options were limited (an important consideration when travelling with Robin....!)
Hannah
New Year's Eve in Puerto Piramides
For the night of the 31st December we went to the campsite in Puerto Piramides. We arrived around mid-day, the place was rammed and it seemed that every Argentine and his auntie had pitched up. We were told that the campsite was full, but if we could find a spot we could camp for ARG$20. Our tent is small, so this would pose us no problems.
We walked the length of the campsite to note that every spot was indeed occupied by converted buses, RV's, caravans, trucks and 4x4's, with tents squeezed inbetween. All the best places in the shade and on the sand were taken...even up in the carparking area there were tents pitched up on the rocks and gravel. Eventually we found a place, near the bottom of a sand dune and put up our wee two-man. Sounds good, but there were 2 4x4s direcetly opposite and I couldn't help but think that if the folks didn't insist on driving their cars and trucks into the actual site, finding a pitch would have been easier.
Errecting it was interesting as the sand was so soft that there was not enough tension to keep the topsheet taught, and all around us you could see (in between the vehicles) tents that were bowing and flapping in the wind. As it was about 2pm by now, the sand was incredibly hot, and as I was in flip-flops it was necessary to do some kind of hopping dance to stop my feet from burning as we pushed in pegs and tightened guy ropes! ouch.
We walked the length of the campsite to note that every spot was indeed occupied by converted buses, RV's, caravans, trucks and 4x4's, with tents squeezed inbetween. All the best places in the shade and on the sand were taken...even up in the carparking area there were tents pitched up on the rocks and gravel. Eventually we found a place, near the bottom of a sand dune and put up our wee two-man. Sounds good, but there were 2 4x4s direcetly opposite and I couldn't help but think that if the folks didn't insist on driving their cars and trucks into the actual site, finding a pitch would have been easier.
Errecting it was interesting as the sand was so soft that there was not enough tension to keep the topsheet taught, and all around us you could see (in between the vehicles) tents that were bowing and flapping in the wind. As it was about 2pm by now, the sand was incredibly hot, and as I was in flip-flops it was necessary to do some kind of hopping dance to stop my feet from burning as we pushed in pegs and tightened guy ropes! ouch.
After driving around the National Park, we spent the evening drinking beer while sat on rocks in Piramides bay, watching the sun go down at 11pm (Christina Kirchner, the new Argentine president, put the clocks forward by an hour on the 30th. This is the first time that Argentina has had a daylight saving policy, and it has been put into action as a means to save energy. The effect of this is strange, resulting in very cool mornings and the heat of the day being at its worst at around 3 or 4 pm). We followed this by pizza (surprisingly not the usual cheese slick that is the staple pizza variety here) at a cafe where, at midnight, the owners kindly gave us glasses of fizz and slabs of pan dulce (like panettone). The Argentines meanwhile were back at camp busy eating the barbequed meat that had been roasting away since the late afternoon. Walking around the campsite would not be a pleasant experience for a vegetarian, as whole animals are flayed and pinned open on a metal cross-shaped skewer, slowly cooking over burning wood. To me, having worked up an appetite from the days sight-seeing , the smell was divine!
So far the evening had passed quite quietly, but then the fireworks started. While the whizz-bang-pops were very pretty exploding over the bay, it was also a kind of extreme sport....this was no organised display and anybody with a couple of pesos to spare could buy a few rockets and set them off willy nilly from the beach. The wind carried them off in all directions, with some bursting into life on the sand, just feet away from people! Duck!
Back at the campsite the party was just beginning, with everybody singing along to music pumping out of car radios or in big groups around a guitar (no bandoneons, thankfully). To be fair, the Argentines have great singing voices and do it at any opportunity, with passion - and while we were not so much serenaded to sleep at least we had front row seats to a local past-time! Infact we were privileged until the sun rose again....
Hannah
Thursday, 3 January 2008
Whales and Wales in Patagonia
We arrived in Puerto Madryn after a 14 hour overnight bus ride from Mar Del Plata. This was a good thing, as it was supposed to take 16 hours! What was less good was the on-board service - dinner consisted of a cold hamburger, with oodles of the obligatory luminous orange fizz. After 5 minutes of fizz Hannah was grinning like a maniac. (This isn't quite true, although I certainly felt... 'odd' - Hannah).
We decided to walk up along the coast road to the 'eco centro' - both of our guide books promising that it would be open, albeit at different times. The '40 minute or 3km walk' took more than an hour, battling against the combined forces of heat and wind. This area, and Patagonia generally, is breezy to say the very least! When we got to the 'centro it was closed, but at least it hadn't been turned into a school (yet). Oh well, we´ll return another day.... we slogged it back into town and slept a very sound night at the hostel - on bunk beds. (yippee! - Hannah)
The next day we hired a car for three days and took off for Peninsula Valdes, famed for its amazing wildlife spotting opportunities, due mainly to lack of human settlement. The one village, Puerto Piramide, is little more than a few restaurants and a big campsite, set behind sand dunes right behind the beach of a beautiful bay. It took 100km of driving just to get here from Puerto Madryn, without passing any other settlements... we were starting to get an idea of the vastness of the Patagonian steppe. After setting up camp we set off again to do a loop of the peninsula - a drive of about 240km and our first experience of 'ripío' roads (basically gravel). Instructions for driving on this type of road include 'no sudden braking' and 'no overtaking' - rules which the locals happily ignore... resulting in two cars rolling over a week apparently. Luckily, as it was New Year's Eve, most folk were already at their destinations and the roads were pretty quiet. Glad we didn't break down though, as it really is desolate, until you catch the fantastic views of the ocean.
We decided to walk up along the coast road to the 'eco centro' - both of our guide books promising that it would be open, albeit at different times. The '40 minute or 3km walk' took more than an hour, battling against the combined forces of heat and wind. This area, and Patagonia generally, is breezy to say the very least! When we got to the 'centro it was closed, but at least it hadn't been turned into a school (yet). Oh well, we´ll return another day.... we slogged it back into town and slept a very sound night at the hostel - on bunk beds. (yippee! - Hannah)
The next day we hired a car for three days and took off for Peninsula Valdes, famed for its amazing wildlife spotting opportunities, due mainly to lack of human settlement. The one village, Puerto Piramide, is little more than a few restaurants and a big campsite, set behind sand dunes right behind the beach of a beautiful bay. It took 100km of driving just to get here from Puerto Madryn, without passing any other settlements... we were starting to get an idea of the vastness of the Patagonian steppe. After setting up camp we set off again to do a loop of the peninsula - a drive of about 240km and our first experience of 'ripío' roads (basically gravel). Instructions for driving on this type of road include 'no sudden braking' and 'no overtaking' - rules which the locals happily ignore... resulting in two cars rolling over a week apparently. Luckily, as it was New Year's Eve, most folk were already at their destinations and the roads were pretty quiet. Glad we didn't break down though, as it really is desolate, until you catch the fantastic views of the ocean.
In terms of wildlife we had the works and saw:
Eagles
Turkey Vultures
Rheas (like ostrich)
Lesser Rheas
Guanacos (wild llama)
Horses
Cows
Sheep
Sea Lions and their pups
Elephant Seals
Cormorants and other sea birds
Hares
Cavy
but the stars of the show were the Magellanic Penguins, with their fluffy young.
Eagles
Turkey Vultures
Rheas (like ostrich)
Lesser Rheas
Guanacos (wild llama)
Horses
Cows
Sheep
Sea Lions and their pups
Elephant Seals
Cormorants and other sea birds
Hares
Cavy
but the stars of the show were the Magellanic Penguins, with their fluffy young.
We didn't see any whales though, which is what this area makes it's living from most of the year. (Tourism, not harpooning)
On New Year's Day we drove to Trelew, which was basically closed. A ghost town. Reading the local papers the next day it transpired that practically the entire Rio Chubut valley had decamped to the beach resort of Playa Union for the day. Despondent and hungry, we pressed on to Gaiman, which is pretty much ground zero for the Welsh-speaking community in Argentina. Here we found one of the (many) "traditional" welsh tea houses where we asked for tea for two and got served the most enormous tray of cakes you have ever seen. (In fact we counted that we had eaten 7 different slices of cake or pie, plus 2 scones each and some homemade bread and jam. I really did feel odd this time, infact the sugar rush turned me into a giggling wreck for about 20 minutes. So much so that we had to ask for another pot of tea, just to recover! Hannah)
On New Year's Day we drove to Trelew, which was basically closed. A ghost town. Reading the local papers the next day it transpired that practically the entire Rio Chubut valley had decamped to the beach resort of Playa Union for the day. Despondent and hungry, we pressed on to Gaiman, which is pretty much ground zero for the Welsh-speaking community in Argentina. Here we found one of the (many) "traditional" welsh tea houses where we asked for tea for two and got served the most enormous tray of cakes you have ever seen. (In fact we counted that we had eaten 7 different slices of cake or pie, plus 2 scones each and some homemade bread and jam. I really did feel odd this time, infact the sugar rush turned me into a giggling wreck for about 20 minutes. So much so that we had to ask for another pot of tea, just to recover! Hannah)
While we still had the car we also visited something called "Geoparque Bryn Gwyn" (white hill in Welsh) where a fantastic number of fossils are practically falling out of some cliffs. Despite being well inland, and well above the river valley, huge fossilised oyster beds could be seen almost at the top of the cliff, dating to when sea levels were much higher. At lower levels and in different geological strata the fossils of extinct mammals, and even dolphins, penguins and seals had been found. The walk through the geoparque is described in the 'good book' as a walk through the badlands, an apt description as we felt like we were in the middle of a desert. Which we were, really.
All this put us in the mood for some serious sustenance and back at the pretty campsite near Trelew where we had set ourselves up, we partook of the national pastime and successfully barbecued four amazing steaks and two chorizo sausages, washed down with some very nice Argentine Syrah wine. All for a few quid at the supermarket. How very Argentine...
Robin (and Hannah)
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