The bus down to the Argentinian Lake District town of Bariloche takes 19 hours. That is a long time! We're sad to leave behind Mendoza, a great little city, with some of the best vineyards in the world (funny how we can say that now with a note of authority) but we're also looking forward to our next destination, when we eventually get there. The bus actually isnt all that bad. Not quite as spacious as the one from Chile, but still pretty good - on a par with a short haul European business class seat. And food too, on a par of economy class plane food. We sleep quite well through the night, and then enjoy some beautiful mountain scenery, with a few road runners during the final daylight hours to Bariloche. The taxi driver from the bus station is the first Argi to mention Maradona and the hand of god incident, but as his first game in charge recently resulted in a 6-1 thrashing in Bolivia, he soon shut up (but told his mate on the phone that he was carrying a couple of gringos to the hotel)
If it wasnt for the people speaking Spanish, you could easily be in Switzerland in Bariloche, all wooden chalets with snow capped mountains in the distance over the lake. Its beautiful, but very windy and pretty chilly. We've booked into another really cute place called Perikos, a wooden chalet, which is almost as good as the last place although doesnt have a TV, but the en suite is as good as we have seen since leaving home. After overdosing on the steak in Mendoza, we're back on the self catering - still beef mind you, but rustling up pasta bolognese is different - the quality of produce in the supermarkets is much superior to back in UK.
Next day we're off to wander the circuito chico, the easiest walk available in the area alongside lakes, and viewpoints through forests and past snow capped mountains. Its a really lovely walk out, although we end up having to go a little further than planned due to the very limited bus service to return us to Bariloche. Although not as panicked as we would have been if it had gone dark, we were very relieved to see bus 10 pop up the hill to our rescue.
After a night off the steak and red wine, we're back on it with a vengence, choosing the comedy named Tarquinos, described as hobbit like by the Lonely Planet. This is serious bife de chorizo, and earns a serious gasp of appreciation. Luce has the lamb and that too is glorious. With a bottle of malbec to wash it down, happiness and snooze soon sets in.
We're planning to kill a bit of time in Bariloche, cook ourselves a couple of meals and get back some budget, so spend the next day with a picnic lunch at the beautiful lakeside setting, and supper that concentrates on vegetables to balance out the red meat intake.
Saturday, and we're heading down to the artesenal market in El Bolson, which is renowned as being a hippytown where many of the more artistic Argentinian escaped to during the oppresive dictatorship years. Its moved on a bit despite the large number of dreadlocks we spot, there is also now the world famous native Indian pan pipe group who treat us to such local delights as Unchained Melody and the theme from Titanic while we browse the stalls and much on a couple of delicious empanadas, an Argi speciality of meat and onion wrapped in pastry. There's not a great deal else to do in town, most of the activities involve getting out of town with your hiking boots, so we settle down for a rather bland pizza, and rather delicious bottle of Malbec.
Back in Bariloche, and its dinner out at another fantastic parilada, Albertos. Not sure if the main man himself is in town, but he's got a great theatrical set up - in the middle of the room is a huge BBQ infront of which the chef chops your steak from an enormous animal and throws it on until a punto. Happiness is. We reckon we have got it sorted now, order about 1/2 kilo of meat and a bit of salad, dont forget the bottle of red and thats enough for two. And you'll spend about £15 for an amazing feed. Albertos meat wasnt quite up to the standard of Tarquinos, but still wipes the floor with anything you could buy in London for double that price.
Our final day in Bariloche is another chilling out pottering around the shops, which are very much aimed for the ski-set, and knocking up another home made delight. Sausage pasta tonight, and as we have come to expect, the quality of meat is superb. Its going to be a real let down when we we're back in Tescos for meat.
Next stop is El Calafate down in deepest Southern Patagonia, so that we can visit the Perito Moreno glacier, a decision made back in the rain sodden caravan in Franz Josef in New Zealand. Its a 29 hour bus journey this time, which we are not looking forward to at all - and we've been warned that unlike previous bus trips, food is not included. So we stock up on another Argi delicacy for breakfast - dulce de leche, which is a caramel slightly runnier that you get in a twix. Spread on sliced white bread makes it substantially more unhealthy, but equally more delicious. Obviously it was just as well we managed to shed some kilos on the outdoor adventures in the Antipodes as they're all coming back now.
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