Bariloche, Argentina
Kara says:
Forgot to put this first photo up before, it's from the bathroom in our hostel in Puerto Varas, Chile. I think I'll get one for home.
Anyway. Bariloche (or to be pedantic "San Carlos de Bariloche") in Argentina's lake district. One of the country's biggest tourist towns, ski resorts in winter and lakes in summer it pretty much has it all covered. It's a pretty, european, ski-resorty town on the shores of a lake backed by snowy mountains - sound at all familiar? Photo of me on the edge of the lake with the snowy mountains in the background and trying not to be blown away. Patagonian wind! Have I talked about this before? It's special, there should be another special word for it that's not just wind. The long, long gusts (but more like waves of wind) come from far off. You hear a sound like a very long crash of a wave on the shore. It comes closer and closer and then it hits you and nearly blows you off your feet and then subsides and you can hear it moving away into the distance. We saw a T-shirt here that just says "Patagonia - Viento. Mucho viento."
So we went for a walk around the lakes and hills for views of the mountains and valleys and lakes and general beauty. Photo of Karl on the top of a hill admiring the view and having a nice cup of tea from our thermos. We love our thermos. LOVE him, our termito. He comes everywhere with us now and supplies hot tea and coffee on even the coldest, windiest hillsides. Also photo of Karl stretching out on a tree overhanging a waterfall 'cause he likes to live life on the edge, yeah.
Karl tried to sneak in this next bit pretending to be me "Almost forgot to say, we had a parilla in a hobbit house! Mainly it was a hobbit house because of the big round heavy wooden door, live trees growing through the restaurant and a general woody cosy vibe. The parilla part didn't really make it hobbity though, but it was still awesome. Hobbits should have had parillas." As if that sounds like me, I bearly know what a hobbit is.
After Bariloche we took a bus through some fantastic coutryside. Just when you think that everything has been continually beautiful for so long you can no longer be impressed the view changes just enough to impress you again. It was seriously like a joke this route, mile after mile gorgeous grey-green river, rocky hills, forests of fir trees, the occasional log cabin (honestly, is someone making this up?) just when the view needed a little something extra in the botton left-hand corner. The hills with the rocky peaks and the amazing bluey-grey river were straight out of a 50s Technicolor western, I kept waiting for the Injuns to come around the corner and John Wayne to head them off at the pass. See the completely inadequate photo and try to imagine how gorgeous it really is.
Forgot to put this first photo up before, it's from the bathroom in our hostel in Puerto Varas, Chile. I think I'll get one for home.
Anyway. Bariloche (or to be pedantic "San Carlos de Bariloche") in Argentina's lake district. One of the country's biggest tourist towns, ski resorts in winter and lakes in summer it pretty much has it all covered. It's a pretty, european, ski-resorty town on the shores of a lake backed by snowy mountains - sound at all familiar? Photo of me on the edge of the lake with the snowy mountains in the background and trying not to be blown away. Patagonian wind! Have I talked about this before? It's special, there should be another special word for it that's not just wind. The long, long gusts (but more like waves of wind) come from far off. You hear a sound like a very long crash of a wave on the shore. It comes closer and closer and then it hits you and nearly blows you off your feet and then subsides and you can hear it moving away into the distance. We saw a T-shirt here that just says "Patagonia - Viento. Mucho viento."
So we went for a walk around the lakes and hills for views of the mountains and valleys and lakes and general beauty. Photo of Karl on the top of a hill admiring the view and having a nice cup of tea from our thermos. We love our thermos. LOVE him, our termito. He comes everywhere with us now and supplies hot tea and coffee on even the coldest, windiest hillsides. Also photo of Karl stretching out on a tree overhanging a waterfall 'cause he likes to live life on the edge, yeah.
Karl tried to sneak in this next bit pretending to be me "Almost forgot to say, we had a parilla in a hobbit house! Mainly it was a hobbit house because of the big round heavy wooden door, live trees growing through the restaurant and a general woody cosy vibe. The parilla part didn't really make it hobbity though, but it was still awesome. Hobbits should have had parillas." As if that sounds like me, I bearly know what a hobbit is.
After Bariloche we took a bus through some fantastic coutryside. Just when you think that everything has been continually beautiful for so long you can no longer be impressed the view changes just enough to impress you again. It was seriously like a joke this route, mile after mile gorgeous grey-green river, rocky hills, forests of fir trees, the occasional log cabin (honestly, is someone making this up?) just when the view needed a little something extra in the botton left-hand corner. The hills with the rocky peaks and the amazing bluey-grey river were straight out of a 50s Technicolor western, I kept waiting for the Injuns to come around the corner and John Wayne to head them off at the pass. See the completely inadequate photo and try to imagine how gorgeous it really is.
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