Christmas Day enroute to Bariloche: Across the flat green plains and past the families celebrating the holiday in their swimmers and across the flat barren Pampas and under the full rainbow and over the extensive blue glacier lake and up and down hills, 20 hours west and south of Buenos Aires (deeeeeep gasp of air), to BARILOCHE we go!
That's right, and we sang Christmas carols, or "villancicos", all the way!... OK, although believable for me, I promise I DID NOT sing all the way - could you imagine how much longer it would take to walk to Bariloche? And I would have missed out on the view from my front row second-floor the snack, lunch, and breakfast of crackers and jam and dulce de leche and spreadable cheese. (Actually, we were very fortunate to be served on this bus trip.)
So, what did we do upon arrival at 11am to the porteño's (residents of Buenos Aires) favorite vacation spot?? Well, first we asked ourselves, "Did this bus spread its wings and fly to Austria or Switzerland while we were sleeping?" due to the chalet-like buildings and cottages. Then we cabbed it to our homey Greenhouse Hostel. THEN we enjoyed a scrumptious belated Christmas Eve dinner - for Dec. 26 lunch. Trout, steak, grilled veggies (very welcome after all of the bus crackers and bread) in a restaurant all to ourselves, overlooking the rough blue and white waters of Lake Nahuapi and the Andes Mountains on the opposite shore.
On a hike to a waterfall and lookout, we befriended Tamara (Jordanian working in Madrid) and Betina (porteña) and dined with them that night. Dec. 27, my first rafting trip, down the Lower Manso River with a boatload (two, actually) of New Yorkers, Canadians, twin Aussie brothers, a Dutchman, and an Argentine-born Korean, too! Argentina is truly a country of immigrants, just like the U.S. Rafting was great - except, am I supposed to keep my eyes open when we hit the rapids?? I struggled with that, but I kept rowing, no worries!
The next day was our running/relaxing/walking/self-guided chocolate tour/people watching day. Among the people we watched were many, MANY stray dogs napping in doorways and squares, people selling pictures with their Saint Bernards, and dozens of different student groups sporting matching attire while celebrating graduation with the customary trip to Bariloche. That night: the mother of all bus trips - 30 hours from Bariloche to El Chalten. "Christie, how could a bus trip possibly last 30 hours??" Stay tuned: my pictures in the next segment will explain!
More pics: http://www.flickr.com/photos/23065175@N02/sets/72157623102722981/
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