Dec 18-19 DAYS 30-31 El Boson and Bariloche
My host, Jeff, prepared an unexpectedly good pizza and kindly packed some up for me to take on the road. I said my farewells with plans to contact Carlos’ daughter who lives a few miles from my home. Leaving the estancia with one of the caretakers to Esquel, a town where I could catch a bus to Bariloche, I began wondering if heading into Argentina had in fact been wise. Despite the beauty of the open landscape of Argentina I was missing the verdant lush terrain I had left behind. My indecision as to whether it was better to return to Chile directly or continue on, gnawed at me the next few days.
El Bolson is a town known for its, “hippie population” and alternative way of life, I saw it as a layover before heading into the lake region and Bariloche. I arrived in the evening at the Hostel Barda Negra, a beautifully crafted wood building constructed by the owners,two brothers. It stands a few kilometers from town up a steep dirt road and I discovered upon arrival that any provisions I had hoped to buy were back down at the bottom. And so off I went.
Many people are drawn to the area for rock climbing or hiking and a delightful young Swiss couple, staying at the hostel, were there to do both. We listened that evening to another couple, coming from a land I hold dear, describe the pervasive dishonesty of their countrymen. They were traveling around the world, and instead of putting their home in a good light, they preferred to exaggerate its ills.
Tremendous winds that night awoke each of us, but I felt rested in the morning. Before departing I spoke to my host about Paul Auster and Rock and Roll. I then took a bus to Bariloche, a gateway for tourists and travelers who pass between Argentina and Chile, with a charm of its own. Strolling around was pleasant, if one didn’t mind combating the wind. Nonetheless, many residents were in the throes of their holiday shopping. I spent a few hours chatting with a resident in a cafe about life in our respective countries, discovering the many similarities, while indulging in a decadent multi-tiered creation of pastry, dulce de leche and whipped cream.
My options as to where to go next were virtually endless and it was tough to choose, but I decided to get back to Chile.