Our final days in Patagonia

By morning the rain and sleet had stopped but the wind was still quite fierce. As I took Winston for his morning walk, I could see that the snow level in the surrounding mountains and on the volcano was considerably lower and I hoped we would have no problems with leaving. We also make a stop at the capilla and while Winston remained on the steps under an overhang sheltered from the wind, I checked out the inside. It is a simple wooden building with long, low beams supporting the ceiling. The pews were wooden and hard – no padding here for kneeling. In lieu of stained glass windows depicting religious scenes there were only a few pictures nailed into the wood. A single light bulb hanging from a wire was the only light source. A small altar with a crucifix behind it dominate one end and beside it a small table covered with pictures of saints and candles which people had lit as they knelt and prayed. Beside that lay a basket of unlit candles and a box for donations. The only sound came from the wind as it whistled through gaps in the wood planks and the noise from the rain hitting the roof overhead. It was possibly one of the most simple of chapels I had ever entered yet as I knelt the underlying feeling of peace permeated me. Just a few minutes later a woman entered and moved quickly to the side table. She lit a candle and placed it beside the faded photograph of an old man. She then turned to me and with tears streaming down her face, she said something rapidly in Spanish and in a dialect I couldn’t follow as she gently touched the face of the old man. I have no idea who the man was, why she was crying or what she said but her grief was palpable. She beckoned me over to here and I moved to her side. I took her hand and together we knelt and prayed while she wept. Then still crying, she squeezed my hand and with a quick smile and a simple “Gracias, senora”, she left. It was time for me to leave also as I could hear Winston restlessly moving around when the door opened. With a last look at the photo of the old man, I left to collect a suddenly exuberant dog and the short walk back up the hill to the campground. We packed up, said goodbye to the campground manager and with one more quick drive through the town and past the steaming outdoor pools, we were on our way. As we descended into Caviahue, the huge Pampa which surrounds the lake and town was again glowing in autumn splendor and the volcano was enthusiastically puffing away. Luck was with us in that the sun was out and the wind had completely died down, leaving the lake like mirrored glass as it reflected the mountains and nearby volcano. We stopped and parked on the outskirts of town and Tom grabbed the camera. “I’ll be back in about 30 minutes “he told me and took off across the road and down the embankment to the lake. Winston and I were satisfied just clamoring around the plateau and checking out a group of sheep and some birds. When Tom returned he was pleased with his efforts. The photos of the volcano mirrored by the lake were truly spectacular showing the huge plumes of smoke drifting into the air and across the lake. Once on paved road it was an easy drive back to Las Lajas where we spent the night again. The following day, found us back on Route 40 heading north. We are now at the northern end of the province of Neuquen, the final province in Argentina that defines the Patagonia region. Route 40, true to form is paved in parts and then with little warning turns into a gravel and dirt track, and this is a major artery to much of Argentina. As the sun was starting to set, we finally arrived at the small hamlet of Bardes Blancas. The campground was barely more than a piece of dirt secured by a wire fence, attached to a restaurant but it is all we need. We are now in the province of Mendoza. Grapes and olive oil. Tomorrow we will be in the city of San Rafael. Wine country. Ah, yes!

Copahue Geothermal Complex and Spa

We woke up next day to a full blown Andean winter storm with gale force winds and torrential rain. I brave a walk with Winston and on the way pick up a brochure detailing spa treatments and a variety of therapeutic baths available. By the time we got back, Tom was up and after a quick breakfast, we left Winston in the RV and went back to town to the Thermal Complex. The complex like the rest of the town is part of Copahue Provincial Park, owned and operated by the province of Neuquen. Copahue thermal springs, according to the literature, are world renowned for the quality and diversity of their waters, whose therapeutic properties are guaranteed by the World Health Organization and recognized as one of the best three in the world. A group of doctors, nurses, professionals and technicians supervise all treatments and before being allowed to use the facility, we first had to see a nurse who after reviewing the lengthy medical forms that we were required to fill out, took our blood pressure. Depending on those findings, you may have to see a doctor or in our case, she will sign a release at which time we are handed over to a staff member who will reserve any of the treatments we want plus show us to the variety of thermal pools that are scattered around. As the Christmas song goes “the weather outside is frightful” and there is no fire only steaming, hot bubbling pools of water around us which works well for us. The mud pool, we are told is too cold to enter - which although it was something we wanted to try having tried them in New Zealand for the first and only time and loved it – was okay with us since that particular pool is outdoors and I have already mentioned how inclement the weather is. We also knew we wanted the full body massage and time in the immersion baths and I wanted a facial, any sort of facial that would involve plenty of moisture and hydration was fine with me. Our attendant suggested having the massage first, then the immersion whirlpool and following those, a facial for me while Tom would go back to the RV, walk Winston and start preparing dinner. She took us to another part of the complex where we were told to wait and offered some mineral water from the complex’s own, private source. The rooms we were then escorted to were clean and comfortable with the usual massage bed, plenty of towels, soft music and the tantalizing smell of potpourri, candles, oils and lotions. For one full hour the very well trained and skilled masseuse rubbed, kneaded and massaged from top to toe (leaving out the personal areas, of course), with a variety of those oils and lotions which left my skin feeling oh so soft. When we met up again, Tom agreed it was a great massage. It was then on to the immersion baths. We had elected to try the green algae one, for no good reason other than we had never soaked in green algae before, I guess. I am taking the following description from the brochure. “The green algae mud is extracted from the bottom of the lagoon and used in dermatologic treatments. The mud contains minerals and microalgae that give the water its characteristic intense green color”. Hey, sounds slightly disgusting but there you have it. We were taken to a private room with part of it a dressing area and the other part for the bath. In theory, after getting into the immersion pool, the attendant turns on the jets of the intensely green water, temperature very hot and you lie back, put your head on the padded headrest and allow the algae to perform it’s therapy on your body for 20 minutes. In theory. The reality was the “immersion pool” was little more than a low quality whirlpool tub so to “immerge” would require you to curl on your side in the fetal position and crouch below the water or only immerge parts of your body at a time, the “intensely green algae water” looked actually more like water to which green food coloring had been added (I can only thank God, nothing was floating in it), temperature “very hot” will be re-defined to hot which got to be tepid as the time passed and the jets churned it around (I am guessing the pump did not have a water heater attached), the padded headrest was cracked and uncomfortable and as for as its therapeutic quality I can only guess at since after 5 minutes I was only waiting for the time to pass and the attendant to re-appear so I could get out. After 5 more minutes as I lay there, all I could observe were the peeling paint, the cracks in the ceiling and wires hanging all around me. Then I got to thinking about wires, electricity and water – with me in it! I didn’t wait for the attendant. I got my clothes, quickly toweled off (there were no showers to get rid of the green water), dressed and was gone. Tom’s experience was the same and we both agreed, definitely not worth the time. As I walked with him to the main doors we talked about the two experiences, both so vastly different until we saw the weather. It is late afternoon and the wind was still howling but the rain had turned to sleet with a little hail. Tom, God bless him, offered to bring me back a warmer jacket while he walked Winston. Since I had time before my facial, I agreed and waited inside while he walked back to the RV, got Winston and my jacket and walked back. My facial restored my faith in the facility. Again, the room was clean and comfortable with a similar bed and plenty of clean towels. The aroma from the potpourri and candles was similar to earlier with only a slight difference in the smells of creams, tonics and lotions. For more than an hour, the beautician skillfully cleansed, scrubbed, massaged and oiled not only my face but my throat, neck, shoulders, arms and hands. After a warm herbal mud masque was applied and left to do its work, she went to work liberally applying and massaging first using a scrub and then lotion into my arms. After cleansing the masque from my face with warm, moist towels and applying a layer of lotion over which she placed another warm towel, she then worked on my hands. I felt the dry layer of skin being peeled away and moisturizers being massaged into the new. It was then back to my face with several rounds of lotions and creams and massaging. Ah, the elixir for wrinkle free skin, well that a good genes, of course! After saying a fond “ciao” and a good tip for her marvelous attention, I headed outside. The wind, the rain, the sleet, the hail, they had all intensified as the sun had disappeared. As I made my way up the hill as fast as possible I could feel the hail hitting my face, my fabulously exfoliated, moisture-laden face. By the time I arrived at the motorhome, I was exhaling as much steam from my breath as the volcano was belching into the night air, or so it seemed. My arrival was further announced when I opened the door and the wind instantly ripped it out of my hand and slammed into the side of the RV. Phew, that’s quite a storm out there, I told both Tom and Winston. What a great smell awaited me. We had planned on grilled chicken for dinner but due to the weather Tom had made a pot of chicken and vegetable soup which was bubbling on the stove emitting its own steam and great smell. “I should have brought you an umbrella too” he said taking a look at me. ‘With that wind, it wouldn’t have been any use”. I said as I got out of my saturated jacket and started to towel dry my dripping hair and face. “Like my facial?” I asked him. “You look the same to me but as long as it was worth the time and made you feel good then it’s worth it” he said. Worth it, well let me recap our spa day. One hour full body massages at $15.00 each – Fabulous. Immersion algae baths 20 minutes at $8.00 each – Terrible unless you have been camping and want to soak in a tub for 20 minutes and have a spare eight bucks. One plus hour facial at $12.00 – Fabulous. Total cost for the day - $60.00. Total cost for relaxation, harmony and rejuvenation - priceless. As we ate the soup we discussed our day. We had first thought we might spend another day here but because of the weather we decided it was better to leave. Snow has not fallen even at this elevation because of the warm, moist air however we are certain snow is falling in the nearby mountains and we don’t want to get stuck. Also as Tom plaintively said “I am tired of the cold. I want warmth. I want sun”. And as poor Winston braved the outdoors to perform his nighttime bathroom duties, I am sure he was thinking the same.

Copahue.

If there were a town in the center in the middle of the Andes, Copahue might be it. Oh, and if you ever plan on visiting, it has to be from December through April. Yes, Copahue is only inhabited during the summer months. After that all of its residents move to either Caviahue, Locahue or even further and this tiny village ceases to exist with roadblocks installed in Caviahue to stop the curious – or lost!. Every November, people move back, build and repair the damage from the brutal winter storms, snows and wind, reopen hotels, restaurants and the complex, stock up on supplies and then settle in until April when they move and nature has its way again. Located near the Argentine – Chilean border close to the base of Copahue volcano at an elevation of about 7,000 ft (2,150 meters) its name actually means “sulphur” in the Mapuche language. This is very apt given the perpetual odor in the air. Steam just fills the air of this tiny Andean village, emitted from the thermal complex itself, stone fumaroles that have been built along the streets and steam vents dotting the landscape and which appear to have simply peeled away the earth’s layers like onion skin in order to escape from its core. With the volcano adding to the steam, I can almost feel my skin and body, thirsty from months of the dry Patagonia wind, drink in the moisture and humidity and hydrating all my cells one by one. The campground is located above the town to the west and gave us a superb view of both the village and the volcano capped in perpetual snow and ice, which at almost 10,000 ft. (3,000 meters) looms over us. As I watch the smoke blossom from it, I remark to Tom that while a “small” eruption would be interesting to watch, I hope it doesn’t have a big one and bury us in ash. We had been told that there are geophysicists and geologists in the area to observe and monitor any activity and due to the eruption at the height of tourist season had put a dampener on visitors to the town. We took a walk around with Winston, past the tiny chapel which looked as though at best it would hold 50 people, past a few small hotels with restaurants attached, past the thermal complex which we will visit tomorrow, past three open air thermal pools, one of which was a therapeutic mud bath which we also hope to try out and all the while breathing in the sulpherous, steam laden air. We walked the four main streets, passing many of the stone fumaroles built into the sidewalk and avoiding open vents from which steam belched out with bubbles and to the sound of popping, rather like lots of balloons being burst one by one. The town is small and our entire walk, with many stops for photographs covered the entire village took only about 30 minutes. Back at the RV, we cooked dinner and planned our day at the thermal complex. During the night the wind picked up and began to rock the motorhome even though we thought we would be protected by the mountains on one side and another large motorhome right next to us.

From Las Lajas to Caviahue to Copahue (Thermal Patagonia)

After the scenic lake-district section from Bariloche to San Martin de Los Andes, we are once again on the lonely, less travelled part of Route 40 to Las Lajas which is the gateway to the area known as Thermal Patagonia. After spending the night in Las Lajas, we check on the road conditions before heading into the mountains as even at this time of year winter storms can blow through. Our destination is a thermal spa area which lies in the middle of the Andes that we had heard about from Val & Alex in Bariloche. Passing the town of Locopue, we begin our ascent high into the mountains, towards the border with Chile. As we began to climb, the first thing we noticed was a distinct change in vegetation and more importantly, color. Autumn is now with us and here in the high Andes the shades of reds, orange, greens and tans are vibrant in the surrounding hillsides. Shrubs, bushes and trees are resplendent in the new colors and at the few places along the roadside that we could stop, we were compelled to get out and not just photograph but to absorb the beauty of the surrounding countryside. It was many miles before civilization as we climbed in elevation that we began to see the plumes of smoke from Copahue Volcano. The volcano which last erupted in February is still quite active. It was an amazing sight as we came around a mountain and started the slight descent into the town of Caviahue which means “place for celebration or reunion” in the Mapuche language. The small Andean town flourishes by Lake Caviahue at the foot of the volcano at an elevation of 5,500 ft. As the lake and town came into view, the volcano mirrored on the lake was incredible. It was so extraordinary to be able to see the volcano with plumes of smoke drifting from it, reflected so perfectly in the water that Tom vowed on the way back we would stop and get some photos. The town itself is rustic and has the atmosphere typical of a pioneer town on the edge of civilization with small family ran restaurants and stores which sell everything from food to hardware to camp gear. After stopping at the one pump gas station and the tourist office, we were ready to push on to Copahue. From here on, it is a dirt road which will take us higher up to an elevation of 7,500 ft. As we do the steady climb into the Andes, Volcan Copahue is always visible. Also, because we take our time, we have a backlog of traffic behind us consisting of a couple of small tour buses and cars. Tom, being the ever conscientious driver pulls over to the shoulder to let them past. Oh, cripes, horror and heck – you can add your own script. Suddenly we are sunk up to our wheel wells in volcanic ash. Yes, the volcano that erupted in February believe it or not, has left mitres of residue in its wake and we are up to our…ashes in ash! As we get out of the RV to check on our predicament, Tom realizes immediately that we will not be able to move without help. The wheels are completely sunk. Within seconds, as God is our Angel, a maintaintence worker in some type of bulldozer lumbered into view. “Wave him down” I told Tom, “Maybe he can help”. It did not take a genius or much Spanish for him to understand and see our problem. He backed up to the tmotorhome, hooked a chain onto our bumper and with Tom at the wheel to steer the RV, pulled is slowly onto firmer ground. We were free. After saying Thank you and giving him a little monetary compensation “to help out his family”, we were on our way again. This time I told Tom that I did not care how many vehicles were behind us, we were not pulling over. He readily agreed. That was a close call and could have cost us a lot of time and money. Eventually we climbed our final peak and made the short descent into the village of Copahue. The smell of sulphur from the thermal pools fills in the air and we can see steam rising from fumaroles, cracks in the pavement or anywhere that the hot air can escape. With snow capped mountains towering so close, the humidity from the air encapsulates us and as we eventually found the campground situated above the spa facility, we are glad we made the trek to get here.

Isla Grande de Chiloe, Chile

In my previous blog I had mentioned that we had made a trip to Isla Chiloe in December but remembered I had not written about it. When we knew that we would go back to the States for Christmas, it left us with time to spare so we decided to take a side trip to the island after having read so much about its history. From Bariloche we spent the first night in Villa La Angostura before crossing into Chile at Paso Samore. This pass high in the Andes at an elevation of over 8,000 feet on a clear day would have given great views of the nearby volcanoes. As it was the two highest and closest to us, Puyehue and Casablanca were shrouded in clouds but we could still the snow covered sides and visualize how immense they are. After reaching the Chilean city of Osorno, we head south again with the Andes on our left side. This is actually volcano territory and driving toward Puerto Montt, we pass volcanoes, Puntiagudo, Osorno and Calbuco to name just a few. All are towering masses with the pointed peaks that comprise most composite volcanoes, all extremely tall and all covered in snow and unfortunately, clouds. It has not stopped raining all day and at times the downpours were torrential. At this rate, the ferry crossing across the Chacao Channel will be choppy. Just like getting onto Tierra del Fuego, catching a ferry is very simple. You just drive to the end of the road at the small town of Pargua, join a line of other cars, buses and trucks and wait for one of the boats which cross fairly frequently. At the other end, drive off and you are immediately on a road going to the southern end of the island. Although it's only a 30-minute ferry crossing away from mainland Chile across the Chacao Channel, lush and green Isla Chiloe – the largest in the Chilean archipelago – is like another world. By the way it is green and lush because it happens to be one of the wettest places on earth and today it seems to be trying to prove that claim. The rain which has been heavy all day is simply coming down in sheets driven by the wind. The ferry arrives at the tiny village port of Chacao and we look for a place to park for the night, as it is getting late. There is a village square with a church at one side, which looks quiet. Isla Chiloe is famous for its wooden churches some of which have UNESCO World Heritage status. Also clustered around the square are houses for which the island is also renowned. Tejuelas are the famous Chilote wooden shingled homes which are painted in bright colors, probably to offset the dreary, rainy weather. We walk Winston, make sure the motorhome is not leaking anyplace and it is an early night. The next morning it is still pouring with rain and we think of our options. Much as we want to explore the island, the rain just makes it harder to do and nowhere near the fun. Also, many of the places we want to go are on dirt roads that are awash with mud. Given all that, we decide after one day on Chiloe to go back to Bariloche. We may return in a few months but right now the rain has got the better of us and so we make the two day trip back to Bariloche. The rain stayed with us until we were back in Argentina and approaching Lake Nahuel Huapi.

Villa La Angostura and on to San Martin de Los Andes

Our first day was an easy drive to Villa La Angostura, located halfway between Bariloche and San Martin de los Andes. Spanish for “narrowness – ville”, the village sits on the northwest shore of Lake Nahuel Huapi inside Nahuel Huapi National Park. It is very similar to Bariloche in that the architecture follows the stylized Alpine wooden type of buildings and there is a preponderance of artisanal stores selling products like beer, chocolate and delis stocked with smoked salmon and trout and lots of cheese and pates. It was actually declared a disaster area two years ago when a volcano eruption in Chile dumped a massive amount of ash on the area. Since then there has been a huge cleanup campaign and only here and there do you see the remnants of the devastation. Our destination is a campground to the east of town at the edge of Lake Correntoso. We had stayed here before in December when we made a trip to Isla Chiloe in Chile so we knew it was a great place to spend a few days and get used to being on the road again. The campground is owned and managed by the indigenous Mapuche and is a little rundown but since we are fairly self sufficient in the motorhome, that part doesn’t matter and its location by the lake is beautiful. We spend a relaxing couple of days just hanging out, reading, playing with Winston and catching up on some chores. The weather stays sunny and fairly warm until our third day and the clouds start amassing over the lake. Time to move on. We head north and then just as the Andes begin to loom higher in front of us, we turn onto a dirt road to begin a climb up past gorgeous, glistening glacier lakes and rivers fed by the Andean snow. Keeping the Andes on our left, we stay on the dirt road that is known locally as “the route of seven lakes”. The terrain is subantarctic and is lush thanks to the huge rainfall and snow melt that it receives. The 110 km drive (about 70 miles) takes about three hours with plenty of photo stops along the way. We had planned to stay a couple of days in San Martin de los Andes but the only campground in town was just to the north but was really not that pleasant. Belonging to ACA (Automobile Club de Argentina) it was just a dirt and gravel area with a small stream running down its side where the tent camping was located. Motorhomes were parked by the fence at the main road so traffic was audible most of the time as this is one of the busy routes for trucks entering Chile. After getting parked, level and plugged in, we decide to spend just one night here and get further north. When I was here with Mariano and Marcela in February, we had eaten at El Regional, a cerveceria/restaurant serving artisanal beers and local regional cuisine. At that time I had had a “guisa”, a type of casserole topped with pastry and filled with tender chunks of venison with vegetables. I had mentioned it to Tom who since then has wanted to try it. We walked, fed and played with Winston and then asked for a taxi to take us the short distance into town and El Regional. We both ordered the guisa and Tom agreed with me that it was delicious and oh so filling. That, accompanied with a bottle of Argentinean Malbec wine was enough to send us happily back to the motorhome for the night and to an exuberant Beagle who received a little of the venison.

Tom Returns

After the overlanders left there were only a few days left before Tom arrived back. I shopped, cleaned and generally prepared the RV, not just for him getting back but also for our eventually departure and to start traveling again. I knew he was going to bring back a new radiator that we wanted to install before leaving Bariloche and also other parts that we were okay leaving to be replaced until getting into Chile. When Tom got back, I can honestly say that I think Winston could not believe his eyes. With our leaving and my returning alone, in the past two months I think Winston thought his “dad” was gone, missing, who knows where. When he saw Tom, he went into his crazy “I missed you so much” routine. He yelped, howled, screeched and bayed. Ran, chased and ran some more. I think Tom was also glad to be back, although he did not run around howling. I know Tom misses the States more than me. Outside of kids and family, I couldn’t care less about being in America, whereas Tom misses many of the comforts of home – the availability of produce, Home Depot, certain restaurants, REI, his favorite things, and so on. But traveling is a lot of fun despite all the trials and tribulations and I know he missed the fun parts like meeting up again with Mariano and Marcela both here in Bariloche and my trip to San Martin de Los Andes with them and just generally being on the road. Nahuel and Sonya dropped by, as did Val and Alexandra and Juan. There is also a family from Venezuela at the campgrounds and two families from the Mendoza area of Argentina. Have I ever mentioned how guys who RV travel, love to fix things and help other people fix things? As soon as the Venezuelans knew we had to install a radiator, they were offering to help. Raul and his wife Yadira along with a friend are from the Merida area of Venezuela. Although they own farmland, Raul knows a lot about mechanics. In fact on their monster-sized RV, they have a back rack installed to carry their three motorcycles and spare parts. That night, we chatted with them about our experiences in Venezuela – all good – and the recent death of President Chavez and what it might mean for the country. Since they are traveling they can’t worry about it and it will be a few more months before they plan on returning. They are hoping everything will be sorted out by then. They were also true to their word and the next day our radiator was installed and running well. The following day they leave to go south and bike riding on the Carretera Austral but not before exchanging contact information and entrusting to us with two motorcycle tires. We will carry them to Mendoza and drop them off for one of the Argentinean families who had been camped next to them. After 4 months our time in Bariloche is coming to an end. On our last night, we cooked a traditional assado for Nahuel, Sonya, Val, Alexandra and Juan. We are grateful for all their help especially Nahuel and Sonya who had arranged for care for Winston and the motorhome while we were in the States. We will miss them and hope that one day we will meet back up with them or they will visit us. But, we can’t deny the fact that we are more than ready to continue our journey and also to get further north to some warmer weather.