Patagonia

It probably wasn't the smartest thing to agree to a midnight BBQ the night before our big drive south but we couldn't resist Amber and Alejo's invite to an impromtu asado with some of their friends. We didn't get to bed until around 3. With cows and pigs arguing in our stomachs making for a difficult morning, we managed to leave Mendoza at around noon. Our goal, Bariloche, is around 1500km south, somewhere near the 41st parallel, waaay south. By 8pm, we only made it as far as Malargüe, not even a third of the way. The next day, we bombed all the way down to Bariloche, a good 12+ hour drive, part of it through tough dirt roads, which really slowed us down.

The landscape at times looked like Tuscany, at times the Grand Canyon, at times the moon. The vastness here rivals that of Africa, except instead of wildebeest tracing the horizon, still snow capped Andean peaks delineate the border between Argentina and Chile, not bad companions for the long journey.



As we neared Bariloche around dusk, we saw the first of the great lakes, Lago Nahuel Huapi, with Volcan Lanin dominating the horizon. Wow. Wow. And wow. Since it's summer (and peak fishing season) here, accomodations though plenty, were scarce and difficult to find. We rolled into town at around 11pm and after trying over 10 places before finally finding a room...we took it even though it was more than we wanted to pay. (Tiny violins playing) This has been a recurring theme in Argentina if we don't book ahead.



Bariloche is built very much like a ski town, alpine architecture, fondue restaurants, loads of chocolate stores (this is the chocolate capital of Argentina) and apparently in the winter you´ll find St. Bernards with little barrels around their necks. Switzerland South. We imagined this place to be more charming -- obviously it once was but we found it to be overrun by tourists and souvenir shops, thereby somewhat ruined.
However, Bariloche is the jumping off point for all kinds of outdoor activities: hiking, skiing, fly fishing, trekking, mountain biking, camping, climbing, etc. We were there to start our much anticipated drive through the lake district where there are hundreds of glacially formed lakes, majestic mountains and volcanoes. It is wild country down here--- you can drive for miles and miles and there is just nothing and no one but you and your staticky radio and some potato chips. We´re only a stone´s throw from Chile and not far from the southern most point in the world.

We rented some camping equipment: a bottom-of-the-line tent, bright purple sleeping bags (Mike was convinced they were Barbie toy bags, not suitable for the Patagonian wilds), a little camping stove and last but not least we borrowed one funky pot which turned out to be a wonderful cauldron for our heat and serve delicacies. We bought a corkscrew, salami, some non-delicious non-perishables (no ice chest) and lots of wine. Happy as clams we checked out a few campsites before deciding on one right on the banks of Lago Traful. We had lakefront property and a marvelous view of the mountains, what more could we have asked for? We quickly set up our "chill zone" with music, sarongs, the beginning of a three bottle night. :)

Makeshift Paella

We were quickly embarrassed by our one-pot meals (although adding a little dry salame can spice up just about anything) when we saw what other campers were cooking. In a country where you can find public parilla grills in parks, on the beach, on the side of the road, you can bet people are hauling their meat camping with them. One camper had an entire animal strung up to an iron cross (like the kind they use in parilla restaurants. See photo) stuck perpendicular into the campfire. Gruesome in an I Bet That's Gonna Be Delicious sorta way.



Anyway, after a modest dinner, we ease into desert, Malbec and Oreos. Mmm.

Argentinians also have a small mate (mah-tay) habit. Sipping mate is a cultural pastime. Almost everyone has a silver thermos on them (for hot water of a very precise hotbutnotboiling temperature) and something to drink their mate out of, usually a small gourd with a stainless steel straw through which you sip. The gourd is filled almost to the top with Yerba Mate which looks like chunky tea leaves and straw and smells and tastes pretty much like that as well. Hot water is poured in and refilled as many times as desired.



We bought ourselves a gourd, a silver straw and a bag of mate to take on our camping trip. When in Rome. It´s an aquired taste. We´re beginning to call it Nas-tay. Mike says his teeth, now permanently stained purple from the Malbecs are in jeopardy of being further stained by the mate. What color does purple and yellow make?

We found another campsite that had grills at every site. We were so excited we drove like 30 miles to the store to pick up some meat so that we could have our own little parilla. Mate, meat, malbec, and refreshingly ice cold dips in the lake. Ahhh...

After a few days camping, we had to return our gear to head farther north, to the cuter than cute town of San Martin de los Andes. We planned to rent more gear up there and explore more lakes but unfortunately, camping equipment proved harder to find and campsites were not as abundant. Bummer, but we made the best of it by having a lakeside picnic bbq on Lago Huechulafquen. We found an abandoned table and chairs and used it for our meat feast.



It was awkward bbqing our chunk of beef next to grazing cows. But it was delicious.


For photos of Patagonia and the Lake District, go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594488703686/

Meat, Malbec and Mullets

We're drunk on beef. Dizzy with pork. Sweating Malbec.

We arrived in Mendoza during the afternoon siesta (almost everything closes)and found the town cosy cosy cosy. This is somewhere we could prop our feet up for a bit. Mendoza is Argentina´s wine region, producing every varietal but most famous for its delicious Malbec. We came here first so that we could meet up with our friends Amber and Alejo who happened to still be around from celebrating the last tier of their wedding trifecta. We are in love with the leafy shady sidewalks, the ice cream parlors on almost every street corner, the abundance of wine and of course the ubiquitous "parillas" (restaurants serving mainly grilled meats, but to order the "parilla" is like ordering the entire farm; they bring you a piece of every kind of meat until you tell them to stop.)

It is summer here in the Southern hemisphere. The days are hot, 3-4 pm being the hottest. The sun considers setting at around 9:30pm and because the days are really long, we don´t eat lunch until about 2 or 3 or 4 and dinner until at least 10 or 11 or 12. When it cools down in the evening, a subtle breeze kicks up, signaling the exact and most perfect time for a bottle of wine while we discuss how we can live here forever.

Argentina feels like Europe. 97% of Argentians claim European descent (mainly Italian and Spanish). This country gave the world Tango, Evita Peron, Jorge Luis Borges, Patagonia and some of the world best wine and meat. Lucky.
No, we´re so lucky to be here.

In Mendoza, we wined and dined at a fraction of the price of home, we biked to some wineries in wine country, met lots of new friends and got to spend time with Amber and Alejo, especially cool because Alejo is from Mendoza.

After a relaxing week in Mendoza, we rented a car to drive south where we planned to spend the next 10 days exploring the Lakes Region and Patagonia.

Oh yeah, mullets are a plenty. Shocking.