Backpacking Boredom

Most of the time when you hear about someone’s travels, you only hear about the best parts and it sounds like one exciting adventure leading right into the next. By the same token, as the traveler you don’t waste your breath re-counting the endless hours waiting around for buses, hopelessly hunting around for a decent place to stay while the pack just gets heavier and heavier on your back, or sitting in cafés with medieval computer equipment, reading your neighbor’s emails while waiting for your next page to load. In fact, your brain doesn’t want to waste memory space either and thus after a while you hardly even remember that those moments ever existed. But the truth is that travelling – and especially this long term, low budget, little planned type that Kristian & I are undertaking here in South America – is almost equal parts “eye-popping” and “nose-picking”, with not a lot in between. A few of these moments come to mind right off the bat:

Our first day in Koobah . We arrived at 12am (New Years Eve/Day) with a plan to leave our bags at the airport party in the streets all night until we could check into our B&B the next day. But…there WAS NO party in the streets (at least from what we could find) and the club we ended up at was not that happening, really expensive (especially after the U$D exchange rate and fees) and closed up around 4am AND THEN the sun didn’t come up until after 8am the next morning, which meant tired, hungry, nervous sitting around in the dark for 4 excruciating hours!

Another moment was in Bolivia when we wanted to take a bus to Villazon from Tarija during the day so we could see the famed “Sama” mountain reserve on the way, but all the buses went at night. So instead we caught a short-distance bus during the day to the in between town of Iscayacha, supposedly within the Sama, with the idea that we could hang out there for the afternoon until the night bus came along. BUT this place was so devoid of anything that if it weren’t for the fact that it did in fact have a central plaza, it could hardly be considered a town. The landscape was barren, rolling hills as far as the eye could see, the 3 tiny restaurants were disgusting and food horrible, and the wind was too fierce for hanging out anywhere outside, which left of really nothing to do and nowhere even to sit around and wait. Se we began begging passing truckers to give us a ride and once we got a lift, it wasn´t for another 3 HOURS before we left the barren hills to find the beautiful part of the Sama. Woops.

Even our first day in our new Argentinian “home” (Mendoza) lacked excitement, as we not only arrived on a Sunday, but decided to venture out into downtown just during their sacred siesta period. It was like a ghost town – NOTHING open and NOTHING to do. Plus, our hostel was quite a ways from the center in what we would later find out was their seediest red light district!

Recently, in Ushuaia, however, we experienced a rather unusual type of backpacker’s boredom, which I suppose could be classified as being stuck someplace where you can’t afford to have fun. It takes 3 long, boring and expensive days of busing through the empty pampas in order to get from the lake district to Ushuaia, at the southern tip of the continent. Once you arrive it is indeed filled with incredible things to do and see but everything is so expensive that we spent most of our time gazing at the unattainable scenery as we cooked our own meals in our hostel on the hill.

The Journey Comes Full Circle in el “Fin del Mundo”

PATAGONIAN PAMPAS, ARGENTINA

This morning I woke up to sky full of glowing, molten, lava, looming over me through the cracked and pitted window of my overnight bus. This ominous inferno hanging heavily above gave me the impression that I was about to witness either the end of the world or perhaps the beginning, the Big Bang. It seemed to indicate the end of one life, one era, one adventure, and the beginning of another, even though I had considered “Phase III” of our South American Adventure to have begun when we moved out of our apartment in Mendoza, more than 3 weeks ago already. (I guess life doesn’t always sit nicely in the tidy compartments in which we try to put its parts. If you think about it, life, like time, cannot actually be sliced into parts, packaged and labelled, in spite of how hard we humans try to manipulate it thus.) But this “full circle” is not just conceptual, but physical as well, as our bus carries us closer and closer to the place where the Argentina part of our South American Adventure first began, Ushuaia. For most, this southernmost city in the world is “El fin del mundo”, but for us it was the beginning, and now also the end, of our Argentinian world. And now I get the feeling like we are headed right into another rabbit hole…….

Adventuring in Argentina’s Lake District

The Patagonian Lake District is one dazzlingly clear lake after another, each one surrounded by verdant forests of false pines, ancient cypresses and other evergreens, and each with their own unique spectacular backdrop of snowy peaks and craggy cliffs looming over the lakes as if leaning in to admire their own beauty in the reflection of the water´s glassy surface.  We were constantly “wowed” as we made our may down from Junín de los Andes (9-Jan) to San Martin de los Andes along the Ruta de los Siete Lagos (7 Lakes Route) toward Villa La Angostura, Bariloche and finally El Bolson, never tiring of this lush yet rugged terrain.  Any one lake zone could be likened to the paisaje (landscape) around Lake Tahoe, in the US, but instead of just one beautiful lake, we had the pleasure of travelling amongst at least ten, with many more waiting for us to explore on our next trip down there. 

Lago Paimún, Junín de los Andes

Our campsite on Lago Paimún (near Junín), may have been the most beautiful and relaxing part of our journey through the Lakes District, with Volcán Lanin´s white cone looming over the lake towards us and its reflection occupying most of the water´s surface. 

Villa La Angostura

On the other hand, probably the funnest part for me was our stint in Villa La Angostura (our future 2nd home – we hope!).  We camped at the cramped UnCuyo (my university from Mendoza) for 4 nights and went crazy exploring and adventuring during the days.  The most memorable was the day we rented mountain bikes, as we were on fire with adventure from 8am-8pm living life to its fullest.  Our bikes were delivered to us early in the morning and we were just about the first people to hit the trail on the Peninsula Quetrihue. The trail meandered the length of the peninsula leading all the way to the tip where the largest remaining stand of the endangered Arrayanes trees (or Monkey-puzzle in English) can be found. These trees have a startlingly orange peeling bark (similar to the skin of a severely sunburned Irishman) and wriggly twisty branches and their small remaining forest was the climax of the truly fantastic trip through ñirre, coihue, and lenga forests, gorgeous wildflowers, wild horses, lagoons, and sparkling vistas across Lago Nahuel Huapi all along a super fun trail for biking with a great variety of terrain.  After a quick lunch break at camp, we jumped back on the bikes (bums already sore from the morning´s ride but our hearts still thrusting for action and adventure) and headed out the other direction to find the Camino Viejo (the ”old road” which turned out to be fantastic single track) and another exhausting 2+ hours uphill to Lago Espejo (Mirror Lake).  We were totally spent by the time we finally arrived at the lake, but to our delight the crystalline water was a perfect temperature for a refreshing dip to wash the sweat and mud off our aching bodies.  The sun was warm, the sand soft and to top it all off, there was a kiosko selling liter bottles of cold beer for 4 pesos! We were in heaven.  It was so clean, clear, warm and beautiful that my thirst for my Kailua beach was quenched, at least for the time being.

Bariloche 

Further south, in the Patagonian capital of Bariloche, there were so many outdoor adventure options, including a plethora of multi-day hut trips, that we wasted most of our time walking in circles around downtown just trying to figure out which to do.  In the end we chose a 3-day trek called “Paso de las Nubes” (pass through the clouds) that would bring us through a spectacular mountain-scape all the way to the border with Chile, returning by catamaran across 2 glacial lakes.  Unfortunately, the heavens opened and after one night of shivering in a wet tent, wet clothes, and wet sleeping bag and no sign of relief, we surrendered to the forces of nature, admitted defeat and turned back the way we had come.  Although we were disappointed not to fully take advantage of the immense system of trails and really get ourselves into the back-country there, we figure it just gives us all the more reason to make sure we follow our dream to come back and buy property down there, giving us time to trek and bike and kayak to our hearts´content in the not-so-far-future. Plus, even though it was raining cats and dogs, we still managed to make it to up to a huge waterfall bursting right out of a hanging glacier and get up close to the strange but beautiful, Ventisquero Negro (black glacier). And just as the clouds parted for a brief minute, I was lucky enough to see a large chunk of ice shear off and crash into the rock below, emanating a loud, ominous thunderous rumble for which Monte Tronador (Mt. Thunderer) is named.  Quite impresionante.

San Martin & Hua Hum

Near San Martín de los Andes, we did manage to get in a full 2-day trek to the Queñi Hot Springs.  it was a long walk with our packs each day and the tábanos (huge horseflies with a loud buzz and a mean bite) were a bitch, but the area was beautiful and the baths ideal.  This hotspring sprung out of a rock wall and cascaded into a series of small, shallow rock pools, each one hotter then the one below.  Apart from a few extra stones that people had placed around the edge of each pool to help retain some of the water, it was completely undeveloped and natural, surrounded by lush jungle and located in a tiny gulch of red clay and isolated from human access by several hours drive (or trek) and then a 2-hour hike from town. 

El Bolsón

So Lago Paimún was the best view, Villa La Angostura was the most action-packed fun, Lago Queñi the best hot springs, and I would say that El Bolsón – our last stop in the Lakes District – had the best food (and beer!).  El Bolsón has this famous, thrice weekly fería artesanal (artisan fair) where the hops and berry farmers and the hippies combine efforts to offer the most delicious berry pies and jams, healthy whole grain and veggie empanadas, breads, and salads, AND full fledged, full bodied beautifully crafted beer.  Nos volvimos un poco loco! We spent two whole days at the fería, munching and slurping and lounging on the lawn in Plaza Pagano watching all the other “park people” lounging in the sun, juggling, playing music, selling hemp jewelry and performing elaborate tricks with their dogs in clown outfits.

Between our 2 days of blissful indulgence, we bagged our 1st and only peak in Argentina – Cerro Piltriquitron – after staying overnight in a refugio (hut) on the mountain.  It wasn´t the hardest peak we´ve ever “bagged”, as the steep, tricky bit was fairly short, but none-the-less it felt great to finally summit one of these craggy granite giants that have been beckoning to us ever since we began this journey.

The Hummingbird that Stopped Humming in Hua Hum, Argentina

Anyone who has ever had the fleeting chance to see a Hummingbird knows that they are not so named for any song they might sing, but for the sound made from the constant and extremely rapid beating of their wings.

In fact, they are such busy bees, darting from flower to flower to suck pollen down their long tubular beaks (and thus called “picaflor” or “flower-picker” in Spanish), that they are very difficult to capture on film. And even if you do get a shot, since their tiny wings never cease to flap at their mind-boggling pace, it comes out looking like a tiny bird amputee suspended vertically in the air! In fact, have any of you that have seen a hummingbird ever seen it sit still? Well, on January 14, 2007 in a place called Hua Hum, Argentina, we finally did! I wouldn’t have even realized it was a Hummingbird, sitting dead still in its tiny nest over the trail, except that we first spotted it in flight, humming away, before it arrived at its nest. The hum, as always, caught our attention before we actually saw anything, and when we spotted it, it had already spotted us standing, as it turned out, directly under and threateningly close to the nest sheltering her precious young. The mamacita darted about, this way and that, not knowing how to get around us and safely arrive to protect her little ones, but when we finally understood the situation we stepped away and the mama bird zoomed straight for the nest, plopping herself to roost on top and ¡poof! the humming stopped. We were flabbergasted. How could a Hummingbird not hum (especially in a place called Hua Hum)? But there she was sitting as quiet and still as a statue on her nest over the trail, protecting her unborn chicks from us – a harmless but threatening 100x bigger than she and her eggs and nest all put together. Luckily for her, we just snapped a few photos of her rare pose and continued on our merry way. The Hummingbird that stopped humming…..

Starting Off Heavy

We are carrying some of the weight of having lived in an apartment for the last ten months. We had begun the process of evacuating our apartment weeks before our first family members came to visit back in September. Thanks again family for taking so much of our stuff back to the States. Unfortunately, neither of us are as good at paring down our stuff as we would like. Yeah, I’m a pack rat, I know. Plus, I’m sensitive to over-consumption which I see as wasteful and having an aggregate negative impact on the naturaleza which I so love to enjoy. I don´t think that people should refrain from having things, just that they should be aware of the impact of their purchases. For example, a washing machine or an oak dining room table are nice things to have. For me, however, getting a new thing if I already have one that still works, or because it is old, or I don’t like the color anymore, or some such nonsense, is not a luxury I bestow on myself lightly. We did our best to find appropriate new homes for all of our things that would not be making the onward journey with us. When we passed our balcony bar and stools on to one of our neighbors, I almost shed a tear. That was probably the epitomal piece of furniture we had and a pivotal part of our lives in the apartment. Update Feb 20, 2007: Pablo informs me by email that he is enjoying mucho the bar and that with it, he is the envy of the building. Gotta love those friendly, dramatic, Argentines.

We leave the house with tons of crap (actually good stuff, some from our families): beef-jerky, craisins, yogurt covered raisins, good, cheap, backpacking foods from Mendoza: trail mix, dried mushrooms, sun dried tomatoes, powdered soups, a mountain of teas, coffee, vitamins, blank CDs & DVDs, neck pillows, a beach towel, etc. This is just a sampling of the lighter stuff. We also had the big old Dell Inspiron 5000 laptop with external DVD/CD burner and spaghetti tangle of cords. Plus three bottles of wine and another small bottle of sweet dulce de leche liqueur that Marí Carmen gave us as a going away present. Everybody in the world knows that glass bottles of liquids do not make for a comfortable backpacking experience. However, two of the wine bottles are from Ana & Roberto’s (part of our Mendoza family) bodega, another going away present. The three bottles will not last more than three nights. The first one was enjoyed within hours of our departure from Mendoza on our overnight cama bus to Neuquen. Another bottle tomorrow night in Junín with our diner of brown rice and left-over chili, over conversations with Argentines from other parts of the country, mostly Buenos Aires, enjoying their vacations. How appropriate that we will enjoy the third red wine given to us by Roberto at a place (Lago Paimún) and in a manner (under a starry sky) that he suggested.

Filling in the Holes

It fills me with glee to hear that some of my friends and family are actually checking this site once in a while. Really, you should see me; I’m so filled with glee that I have to go to the bathroom every couple hours. I was beginning to think that I was wasting time on this endeavor. Anyway, if I’ve spent too much time on this silly blog, I have spent an inordinate amount of time dealing with photos. It’s a bitch captioning, orienting, editing, archiving, etc. And for what, most everybody I know is too busy to even look at one slideshow, let alone 15!! Well, what am I going to do…? I guess I’ll just hope that some people enjoy what they have time to. As of October 7, 2006, there were 9 posts on this blog, today there are 16 . I don’t know what’s going on now; I seem to be experiencing some type of hyper-productivity spurt. I hope nobody minds but I’ve filled in some of the more glaring holes in the story of my blog. Furthermore, as a convenience to regular visitors, following are links to new entries, chronologically no less, to save you from scrolling through the archives.

Vegas baby, Vegas. That’s right; I’m taking you all the way back to the gold plated turd that was our second stop out of Hawaii. It wasn’t really much to talk about so if you don’t have much time, skip to something really cool like Patagonia or Brazil.

Patagonia should be its own country and I would dutifully accept the responsibility of being its president. Watch the jaws of the Argentines drop with shock, incredulity, and disgust as these words hit the screen. Who is this imperialist Yankee that wants to take over Patagonia? Hey, don’t worry, my Argentine friends, my first act as president would be to protect the whole damn newly formed country as a world nature park, or heritage site, or patrimonial cultural, or whatever the hell you want to call it. Patagonia is rugged, remote, and, in my opinion, one of the best places in the world. If you want to read my posts on southern Patagonia, click here, or on the archive (left sidebar) for January. Northwest Patagonia, or The Lake District, can be found here, or in the August archive.

Buenos Aires, the cosmopolitan capital of Argentina has hosted me now three times. Posts from my first visit flying solo can be found here (archives from the first half of February)

Brazil was such great fun. If you’ve never checked out my Brazil photo set on Flickr, then you haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the half naked samba dancers that bring Carnival to life. I have a post on the Brazil Bug, which I promised my Brazilian friends I would write. (Camila e Tiago, aqui é já e eu ainda não falo portugues)

Our month-long journey northward can be accessed here, in the July archive.

Our ten days in the Lakes District can be accessed here, in the August archive.

Scroll down a bit to read about our adventures with “Arturo y Susana” Bauckham. Highlights with the Padres include Tango in Buenos Aires, Jesuit Ruins in San Ignacio, the mighty waters of Iguazú, a day in Córdoba, and exploring the city of Mendoza and the nearby Andes. We ate a LOT, sometimes repeating meals just for the heck of it. We also visited a bodega and made an asado in Vista Flores.

Traveling Zen

It’s hard to summarize a trip in which we did and saw something new and exciting every day. It is impossible to relay the feeling we had of moving from destination to destination as if driven and guided by an inexplicable force. We were like the wind, hurrying, or lingering, as we felt comfortable doing. Going where we wanted, and when, with effort, but without much resistance. Traveling Zen is how I felt. I’ve put up photos from the beginning and the end on Flickr. I will fill in the middle and add some blog entries pretty soon. Done Oct. 10, 2006. Click here to go to my Flickr sets and see any part of the trip!

Click Here to view the first two days of our trip north from Argentina to Bolivia. These pictures show the Difunta Correa shrine as well as the Ischigualasto (Valle de la Luna/Valley of the Moon) and Talampaya National Parks in the San Juan and La Rioja provinces respectively.

Click Here to view the slideshow of the snowboarding trip we took to Argentina’s Lake District in the beginning of August.

The Brazil Bug

Tiago & I saw a bug. It was not just any bug. It was big and it was ugly. We closely inspected this nasty creature. It was taking a break from shaking the ground foliage to spend a while thrusting its head piece out-from and in-to its body carapace. UGH! Disgusting. While it was doing this, its back legs which were barbed and looked like crablegs, were wiggling behind it, under its butt. This was an enormous, vile, bug, doing really weird things. We tried to carry on a normal conversation. Or at least as normal a conversation as two or three people who don’t speak the same language can have. Every once in a while, we would mark its location by observing the quivering plants. We would take a few moments to gross ourselves out by observing the hideous bug. After a while, Tiago brought my attention to a gigantic flying bug. I remarked that at least it wasn’t that bastard from the ground foliage. Tiago informed that yes, in fact, it was. Oh, bloody hell. “I sure hope that thing doesn’t come near me or I’m gonna freak out”, said I. “I’d like to see that”, said Tiago. “No you wouldn’t”, said I, almost knowing, that having had that exchange, that it was inevitably going to happen. After a while, the unthinkable (if you haven’t been paying attention) happened. The hideous, vile, disgusting, enormous, flying bug flew at me! And crashed into me. And STUCK ON ME!. Noooo! I jumped up and down, and screamed (a manly scream) and shook myself furiously. When it was al over, I looked over at my friends hiding under the yellow tarp that sheltered my tent. What happened next was a surprise. They laughed and continued to watch me as if to see what antics would follow the preceding hilarious (to them) display. “Yeah, so?” I said, trying to regain my composure, “I told you I would freak out and that is precisely what happened.” Tiago said, in his thick Brazilian accent “It’s on your dick.” No, I looked down and lo and behold, affixed to the outside of my pants, in the vicinity of my dick, the hideous, vile, disgusting, head in and out of carapace, ground shaking, bug was. ARRRGGH! I smacked that thing once, jumping around. The tenacious demon remained. I swung again, this time harder, and hit meat. I would hurt for the next twenty minutes. I saw that the bug was knocked off my dick and onto the ground. Before I could think about what I was doing, I drove that bastard into the ground with my right foot. I hadn’t wanted to kill it, but obviously, I was given no choice. This ends the funny story… funny, at least for my Brazilian friends.

Travel Gear

It seems like I’ve been asking for stuff for this trip for the last 5 years. This Christmas I got waterproof pants which have proven themselves indispensable many times already. My sisters gave us camera memory with a case. Andy gave us an REI gift certificate with which I picked up a cute camera case with a little waterproof poncho. Tricia also gave us a calling card which we haven’t been able to figure out how to use. I am going to try to do just that today from Chile. Last year for Christmas I got my waterproof parka and windproof fleece, Columbia Titanium, also indispensable. Two years (3 Christmases) ago, I got a membership to the South America explorers club from my sisters. The organization was cool enough to let me keep postponing the year that the membership was, now is, good for. I’ll have to try to make it to the club house in Buenos Aires after I leave Wendy in Mendoza. Last year, Michelle & Greg game me (us) the South America Footprint Guidebook. This past birthday, I got Keen Sandals. 2 or 3 birthdays ago, I got a South America Insight guide from Tricia. 2 or 3 xmases ago I got the set of small scale ITMB travel maps covering all of South America. I have older stuff too; my hiking boots are over 10 years old and my running shoes over 5.

On the Way to El Calafate

We our on our way to El Calafate via the special bus. Apparently it is special because they charge more. We hit Patagonia in the height of travel season. This really has a negative impact on our expenses and logistics. Many of the transportation options are full. Unfortunately, we have had to plan out most of our trip because we have to be in Mendoza at a set date. We were up at 5:30 for the free breakfast in the ABRA Hostel at Rivadavia 376. Even though we were 5th & 6th at the bus stop, we barely got seats together on the bus. Competitive tourism can be ugly. Good thing I took our mochilas (backpacks) to the luggage compartment while she went on to get us seats. We just made a pit stop at Panaderia La Union in Tolhuin. My oh my, what an excellent panaderia (bakery). Wendy selected a pastry that had one end dipped in chocolate. What was not immediately apparent was that there was an enormous dollop of dulce de leche ensconced in the heart of the pastry. I don’t know yet what the other pastry we bought tastes like. We decided we needed a break after the first load of fat and calories. I well let you know how it tastes after we eat it. The first one was good, real good. After consuming it, a discussion ensued about just what is dulce de leche? Wendy thinks that it is like caramel but more sauce than goo. I can’t say that I agree with that statement. I can’t say that I have any idea what that statement means. I can agree with her that it is probably more cream based. Just out of Ushuaia the scenery is stunning. There are peaks and a rainbow and right now we are in an attractive, but not beautiful, forest. Some trees have a lot, a lot of moss. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us of at least 18 hours.