San Carlos de Bariloche

We arrived in Bariloche after a 5-hour bus ride that seemed to go on forever, thanks to the many segments of travel throughout the day. Despite the never-ending journey, the sights into Bariloche along Lago Nahuel Huapal were incredible – beautiful mountain ranges that carved their peaks into the sky, sprinkled with last winter’s snow, sloping down and right into the gentle waves of the lake. Upon arrival, we settled into our Airbnb and decided to see what ‘Little Switzerland’ was all about. GIven the stellar location of our Airbnb, we simply popped down the road to Avenida Mitre and began our wander. The main street is the heart of the town, lined with wooden chalet-style buildings, which seemingly each house a chocolate shop. Tourists walk the streets alongside street dogs, who clearly come to Bariloche for one of two things: a relaxing lakeside holiday filled with artisan chocolates or an outdoor adventure loaded with hikes and spectacular views. We, of course, chose neither and went for a blend of both: chocolates and the great outdoors. To plan how to best execute our perfectly blended itinerary in Bariloche, we needed fuel, especially after our lengthy trip there. So, we took off to La Marmite for a fusion between Argentinian parilla and Swiss Alpenkost. Everything inside screamed Swiss ski hut – from the massive cow bells hung from the ceiling, to the crochet curtains, and even down to the carvings in the wooden stairs. It was so eerily alpine that the waiter’s arrival with a smiley “Hola! Que tal?” threw us for a moment and left us chuckling to ourselves when he left with our order. Not long after, we enjoyed a delightful spread of spätzle with Züricher Geschnetzeltes, rösti with a creamy mushroom sauce, and a bowl of greens (for some element of ‘health’).

The next morning, we headed out feeling refreshed and ready for the day, but little did we know that we would run into a bit of a roadblock. Before the chaos began, we went for a pastry and coffee breakfast at La Dulciteca. Energized by a raspberry-filled croissant and a dulce de leche pain suisse, we began to hash out our game plan on what to do on our only full day in Bariloche. Slowly, we realized that any sort of activity would require taking a bus for somewhere between 30 minutes and an hour, and that public transport was way more expensive than anywhere else in Argentina. We realized it would be much easier to rent a car, something we should have looked into sooner, as we spent the next one and a half hours bouncing from car rental to car rental, only to be told that there weren’t any cars left or that the daily rate was extortionately expensive. Just when we were ready to get our bus change together, we discovered one last rental was ready to let us have their last car for a solid price – success! Once said vehicle was acquired, we set off for Circuito Grande Bariloche, a scenic drive that follows Lago Nahuel and loops back to Bariloche. The drive doubles as a bike route, but can be rather uncomfortable to ride, given that the road winds around blind corners and does not feature a dedicated bike lane. In a car, however, it was a stunning ride with amazing views of the peaks that expand to kiss the lake and dense Genista bushes that contrast the blue sky perfectly. We had a first stop in mind, given it was conveniently already lunch time, and stopped at Empanadas KM 11. This little roadside food truck offers a wild selection of over twenty different empanadas, all individually stamped to indicate their filling. We chose a selection of four to try – cuatro quesos, carne, onion & mozzarella, and deutsche wurst – and crossed the street to find a spot by the lake. Quietly enjoying the gentle lapping of the waves on the lake, we chomped on our tasty hot cheese pouches until we were ready to set off.

We wound our way along the circuit until we reached Llao Llao, an area with plenty of great hiking trails of varying length and difficulty. Given that we already had a late start and that we wanted some time to explore town later, we opted for the hike up a smaller, lakeside hill called Cerro Llao Llao. The trail started off flat and gradually increased in incline as we Indian Jones-ed our way along a narrow path through the thicket. Above us, huge pine trees creaked in the breeze and mockingbirds called out from a perch unseen. Close to the summit, the trail swapped over into switchbacks and became more slanted as it went. During this segment, we found ourselves sandwiched in a group of Argentinian teenagers, who seemed to be battling the uphill, and losing. Flying passed their clouds of B.O. and loud chattering, we felt pretty chuffed by our physical ability. We were ahead of the kids, not trying to keep up with them! Turning thirty suddenly didn’t seem like the end of our youth after all. Triumphantly, we cleared the last bushes at the top and walked out onto a rocky ‘balcony’ with impressive views of the lake as it wound between mountain ranges. With one range in the middle and two arms of the lake fanning out on either side, it felt as if we were looking over the Nordic fjords. Blocking out the hoots and yelps of the adolescents below, we welcomed the small bursts of cool wind and the hot sun on our faces. After some time spent tracing the peaks and squinting to see the Toblerone-like mountains in the distance, we headed back down. From there we took off towards Colonía Suiza, a village within the Circuito Grande that was inspired by little towns in the Swiss alps. We were unsure if the experience was truly authentic, but decided to drive passed to make our own assessment. Matching our expectations, the village included few residential homes and was hugely geared towards tourists, with cheesy (hah!) recreations of mountain huts that were filled with one of two things: restaurants and gift shops. We decided we didn’t need or want any knicknacks, and that our time would be better spent continuing on the circuit. By now, the sun sat low in the sky and gave the lake a golden hour sparkle. Suddenly filled with the desire for an ice cold Coca-Cola, we hit the breaks at a collection of food trucks alongside the road. Once acquired, we walked down to a perch above the beach and enjoyed our drinks. Ibises flew overhead in awkwardly shaped flocks, while locals enjoyed their first taste of summer sun on the rocks. It was bliss. Upon returning to Bariloche that evening, we went straight to dinner at Manush, a local favorite brew pub that’s buzzing with energy at all hours.

The next morning, we took things easy, starting with a lie in and a small breakfast at Chimi. Afterwards, we took our time to pack up and finish up a few administrative tasks and by around noon, it was time to return the car and head to the bus station for yet another endless five-hour journey. The drive began by clearing a series of turns along the lake, this time at 90 kmh – a speed that had the bus kissing each curve and sending it straying over the middle line. These curves didn’t agree with one of our passengers, a strange, long-haired Chilean man - let’s call him Julio - who would soon prove to be the bus nuisance. This man made a number of trips to the bathroom downstairs, taking deep breaths and slow steps on the way down, then spending twenty minutes at a time in a tiny toilet. Meanwhile, we entertained ourselves until we reached the Argentinian border stop. Things went fairly smoothly there and we managed to breeze through passport control in record time. We drove a further thirty minutes through a landscape of marshes and dead forests before arriving at the Chilean border stop. Things here didn’t go as smoothly. First, we spent thirty minutes trapped in the bus right in front of the doors to immigration, as the driver and his navigator placed our luggage on the pavement for inspection by the border pup. Somehow, creepy Julio weaseled his way out of the bus and began to help with the luggage operation, deciding that everyone also needed to see his hairy chest in the process and removed his shirt. We all watched in agony as this weirdo forced a display of masculinity, counting down the minutes until we could leave the stale bus air. Finally, we heard the hiss of the doors and stumbled out to get in the line for immigration. More chaos ensued here, as we were asked to leave our hand luggage on the side for inspection. Seemingly, no one understood where to leave their bags or grasped the concept of a line. To top things off, there was only one border agent working the desk and another who decided the crown herself Chief Bag Coordinator. Once cleared by immigration, we were told to wait in a random side hallway, from where we watched the very chunky and not at all threatening border dog sniff haphazardly at the piles of bags, whilst getting distracted by the scent of snacks in pockets. Looks like someone lied on their resume…

Once our bags were cleared, we had to wait a while longer while creepy Julio faffed about with his new border pals and large bags were once again loaded into the belly of the bus. Eventually, the bus lurched back into gear, which inspired a woman at the front to hoot and clap with joy. We cruised through the Chilean landscape, our previously high speed now muted by potholes sprinkled across the road. Throughout the next hour, creepy Julio continued with his bathroom trips, sometimes looking worse for wear, other times brush in hand to comb his greasy hair. He finally released us of our agony when he got off in Puerto Varas, but not without one final ick when he insisted on hugging the toddler he had built a one-sided friendship with throughout our drive. When we arrived in Puerto Montt, it was drizzling – a predictable weather report for this city.

Puerto Montt

Two years ago, we spent a night in Puerto Montt, a stop that wasn’t incredibly interesting aside from the empanadas we had at Empanadas Betty. Again, our quick stop in town was underwhelming. Puerto Montt was still the gray, trash-ridden town we knew. We simply checked in and immediately headed out to find some sustenance. After some failed attempts, we landed at El Fogon de Pepe, a popular restaurant that specializes in parilla. Truthfully, our expectations were low, but we found the place to be welcoming and fun with random items strewn about as decoration, like American license plates, a model of the Titanic, and baseball caps of different colors. The food was delicious and plentiful, plus the staff treated us like we were dining with family. Puerto Montt may be a bit of a boring town, but El Fogon de Pepe is the center of it all! Full and ready for tomorrow’s journey to Peru, we melted into our surprisingly comfortable Ibis bed.