Leg 5 - Esquel to Santiago

Route summary: Esquel, San Carlos de Bariloche (Colonia Suiza), San Martin de los Andes, Pucon, Valdivia, Curico, Santiago

Days: 14
Zero mileage days: 7
Distance (point to point): 1,054km
Distance (driven): 2,545km
Inefficiency factor (Driven/P2P): 2.41
Avg. speed: 182km/day

Click here for detail.

Back on the open road

Winter is coming

After the anticipated massive rainstorm never really materialised in Esquel, and having done laundry and bought some more oil for Lena I headed off east and north to San Carlos de Bariloche. The road on this side of the Andes was very different. After spending weeks in and around the steep valleys of the Carretera Austral the space was a welcome relief from the slight feeling of claustrophobia (and shorter days, that the valleys created). The smooth tarmac was also a relief after the bone (and plastic) shattering corrugations, potholes, mud and stones of some of the roads in southern Chile. Instead there were undulating hills and more exposure to the wind (although this was very mild in comparison to some of the conditions in southern Patagonia). The ride was easy, past hillsides turning all shades of red as I continued to chase the dying days of autumn north.

Ready for an alfajore

In the updated version of Hansel and Gretel,
it was no longer a gingerbread house

The plan was to stay in Bariloche, but before getting there I wanted to ride around the Chico loop on the southern side of Nahuel Huapi lake which I'd read had some nice views. I stopped for a coffee and an alfajore [1] at the port and then made a slight detour to a small hamlet called Colonia Suissa, which turned out to be the home of the Berlina Brewery. I stopped and stuck my head through the door. It was a Sunday and they were having the tail end of an asado (where I noticed they were drinking red wine) and I had a quick chat with someone that worked at the brewery and he told me that they had a sister restaurant on the road back into Bariloche. I decided to stay the night in the village, so found somewhere to stay, had a shower and then went in search of the restaurant, which I didn't find until riding back into Bariloche the next day (it was much further than I thought), it started raining and after a brief, but entertaining conversation with 3 young Argentinians drinking Fernet and cola from a cut-off 3ltr Coke bottle, I went back to Colonia Suissa to try the restaurants closer to hand. But they were all shut or shutting, so it was back to my cabin and some biscuits and chocolate from my "emergency" food stash. In hindsight having a meal of chocolate in somewhere named after Switzerland was probably fairly apt (if not healthy) and could only have been improved if I'd melted some cheese over my gas stove. Disappointed not to get more than a taste of Berlina's beers though. From the samples I had they seemed to be good quality with some interesting flavours.

Proof that I can ride the bike and don't transport it
between photo opportunities on a flat-bed

Up the next day and drive through Bariloche (which reminded me of alpine ski resorts but next to a big lake) and then on, keeping the lake on my left through some beautiful scenery with fuel for both me and Lena at Villa de Angostura before heading on towards the border. I was about 20km away from it, when I was overtaken by a car with a camera out the window taking my photo. The car then sped off but in a couple of kilometres I turned a corner and found the car pulled up at the side of the road next to a calcified forest [2] and the driver in the road taking more photos and flagging me down. Not sure what to expect I stopped and ended up having a half hour conversation with the Argentinian driver. He also rode bikes and appreciated that if you rode on your own you never got any photos of you actually on your bike, so he'd taken some and would send them to me [3]. We talked about my route and he gave me a range of tips about riding in Chile, Argentina and Bolivia and also a load of route suggestions (we spent most of the time talking with the map open). I was on my way to the border but he told me that if I did that I was likely riding towards rain (the westward side of the border is far wetter) and also missing out on a great route, the Siete Lagunas road, and instead of heading towards Osorno or Puerto Varas, I should head towards San Martin de los Andes. When things appear in my path and suggest a change of route, most times they've worked out [4] so I decided to take his advice and when we parted turned around and headed to the 7 Lakes road. And he wasn't lying, a beautiful road with a bit of ripio in the middle to keep it interesting and then made you glad of the fast tarmac afterwards.

"I know you!"

On the road I passed a single motorcyclist stopped by the side of the road taking photos. I stopped later to take a photo and he pulled into the carpark and we started chatting when he said "I know you!". We'd met in the hostel in Buenos Aires I was staying in on my first night in Argentina [5] and had talked about motorcycle touring. He said that he wanted to do it, but at the time he didn't have a bike - now he did and was heading to San Martin as well and then further north.




We rode into town, found somewhere to stay, somewhere to eat and a bar for a few beers - the latter served a very good IPA ("ee-pa") and had some of the most interesting fount designs I've seen.

"A pint of Singer or a gauntlet, sir?"

Volcan Lanin

Araucania tree

The next day the two of us set off for the border and Pucon. Initially on tarmac to Junin de los Andes before the road turned to ripio with Volcan Lanin looming slightly to the south as we approached the border. Just before the border we took a short trail down to Lago Tromen where we saw foxes around the lake with a shoreline made of volcanic stones (although no floating ones that I could see) and forests showing off their autumnal colours.


Then on to the border past some of the iconic Araucania trees and down into Chile through some more amazing scenery and towards Volcan Villarica, the second textbook, conical volcano of the day.

Volcan Villarica

More sliding than riding

Around Curarrehue we saw a sign for Termas (thermal springs) . We stopped and asked some locals where it was and were told 16km which shouldn't have taken that long. However, the road got gradually worse and worse until it was became slippery, rutted mud. We both ended up with our bikes on their sides and at that point - concerned that it was getting close to sunset and neither of us wanting to do the return trip in the dark (assuming we made it to the Thermal baths to begin with) decided to call it a day and return to the main road and on into Pucon.

The weather in Pucon was awful for the next two days and so it was good to have friends in town, as I ran into my Patagonian travel partners again and had a good few days including some of the best cooked meat I've ever tasted (but then he is a very talented Italian chef) and learnt something while he was cooking it. The weather did mean that there wasn't any opportunity to climb Volcan Villarica, which is still very much live and spewing lava, and it's possible with good weather to climb up to the caldera. Torrential rain wasn't the right kind of weather.

I needed to move the next day though, to meet up with a member of the crew of the Stella Australis (who'd helped Lena aboard) who was in Valdivia on leave. My motorcycling friend however had to get to Santiago and so we parted ways. I was lucky with the weather and managed to make it in good time and dry and then met up with my new friend and had a great afternoon and evening drinking craft beer on the bank of one of the rivers, visit to the Kunstmann brewery for 2.5ltr tower of beer, eating delicious crudos [6] and then meeting up with some more of his friends at one of theirs house for a bit of a party. For someone I'd met a couple of times on a boat, the hospitality I received from him and his friends was amazing, unexpected and heartwarming. I think it was here that Chile really made its way into my affections.

Valdivia is a really nice town next to the water with a crash of sea lions, a pod of pelicans and a venue of vultures [7] behind the fish market waiting for scraps (with varying degrees of patience) and cormorants in the trees along the waterfront. It was apparent that there was prime spot along the waterfront that the alpha male amongst the sea lions took, with a (not entirely peaceful) game of "I'm the king of the castle" going on as his place was contested. When he'd had his fill, he slid off into the opaque water and another took his place.

Valdivia's claim to fame, if you want to call it that, is that it was the closest city to the strongest earthquake ever recorded [8]. Fortunately all was quiet while I was there and able to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere of the university town before heading back to Pucon. I'd been keeping a close eye on the weather forecast and it looked like there was going to be a weather window to climb the volcano on the Monday so on the Sunday I headed back to Pucon, taking a different route this time, across country on smaller, but mostly tarmac roads through Tres Lagos and the mellifluously named Panguipulli and around the eastern half of Lago Calafquen towards Lican-Ray.

Here I realised I was fairly close to the Termas Geometricas which I had heard about in Pucon. I headed off the main road up the tracks to the Termas, wondering whether I was about to make the same mistake that I had last time I'd gone in search of thermal baths on my way to Pucon, but the route wasn't too bad, weaving its way uphill (for some reason the springs all seem to be at the top of hills rather than in the valleys), past pools of gently steaming water. The springs are constructed in a narrow ravine with waterfalls providing the cold water and scalding springs providing the hot water an intricate series of walkways took you up to the head of the small canyon and a large waterfall. Along the way there were a series of 8-10 pools of varying temperatures that backed up against the rock walls and overhanging vegetation, so that as I sat in the pools, surrounded by wraiths of steam I'd feel the occasional droplet of cold water fall on my head or shoulder. I sat in the the baths and watched the light fade and the occasional star appear through the steam in the narrow slit of sky that was all that could be seen, dried off and after a cup of coffee and some cake to fortify me on the last run into Pucon, headed back to the main road and back to Pucon.

The volcano in the morning - note,
that's not the top that you can see

The next day I managed to get myself on a tour climbing the volcano, so after kitting up with various bits of clothing and kit, we started on the hour-long drive into the national park and to the stepping-off point, the bottom of what in winter is the ski lift. The top of the volcano was in cloud and we were told there was a reasonable chance that we might not make the summit. The guide then gave us a choice, we could go back with the coach and get a refund, or roll the dice and head up and see how far we got. Three turned back while I headed up the hill. I had faith in my forecast [9] and believed that the cloud would clear through the morning. We headed up the side of the volcano and I was glad that I'd read an article another traveller had given me called the "Art of not suffering" [10] and had some experience in the hills. So I was walking in my merino wool shirt while others had all their warm kit on. We'd stop and they'd strip off because they were too hot and I'd put on a windproof layer to avoid getting a chill. We'd set off and the whole process would go into reverse. Thinking about it we could have just shared some warm kit [11] and lightened to load but I'm not sure that would have been very fair given that I think I would be getting the better deal, or at least the lower likelihood of hyperthermia. We stopped at a disused ski lift building for some food and to put on our crampons, then outside we were taught how to walk in them and use our ice-axe as an emergency break should we fall and start to slide on the ice.

Although I was in a group of about 8, there were multiple groups so our 40ish person snake continued up the side of the volcano, crunching into the ice, zig-zagging our way up. It became apparent that some people just don't listen to simple instructions (even those who have just finished a year of national service) like follow in the same path, don't stop and don't overtake. The idea of my trip coming to an end because some 19 year old slid into me from above didn't sound like a good way to go so I tried to make sure I was near the front of our group. We headed above the cloud line to stunning views and blinding sunshine but as we got higher the wind also picked up, especially as we crossed some ridgelines. We stopped at El Tubo (2,550m), just under 300m (altitude) from the summit and the caldera. The guides went into a huddle, one group headed off up the mountain but the others (including ours) had decided it wasn't safe. Although it was clear now (and didn't look to cloud over), the rain that there had been in the region over the previous days had created a dangerously hard ice layer (normally it is more snow-like) and combined with the winds meant that an inexperienced group could run into trouble. Frustrating, given we were fairly close, and annoying as I think that if our guide had more faith in the group (i.e. that they would listen to him and follow his instructions) then he may have taken us higher. His decision was probably the right one though, as just before we started to head down, one person in the group who was a bit nervous, asked if they could slide down on their backside, after having been explicitly told not long before that doing that would very likely result in an uncontrolled, head-first slide for 300ms, or more, and ending where the rock fields started. We headed down - normally once it's no longer quite so steep they slide down on "arse-protectors" and plastic trays but because of the ice this wasn't possible because of the ice until we got much lower and the warmer temperature had softened the top layer into slush. The ride was shorter though and soon it was time to take off the crampons and head down to the bottom. It was an interesting experience, some of the views were amazing but ultimately disappointing that I didn't get to see into the caldera, all the more frustrating (as I think you can probably tell) that another group did, and if the group I was in had acted more maturely, I think we could have probably done it as well.

All clear from the bottom on our return

Anyway, back to the hostel, my friends had gone so I headed out for food and then to a bar for a few quiet beers. Just as I was thinking about heading home I met a Canadian guy at the bar who had travelled overland from Vancouver (I think) to here and was on his way down to Ushuaia. We chatted, I joined his group of friends and the next thing you know I've had a few more of the Bocks (a strong but tasty beer) and the next day I'm somewhat glad that there's heavy rain as I don't feel like moving.

The next day there's no such excuse and so I head off. I want to get to Talca at least which makes for a long-ish day (it's about 450km away) but it's all on good roads. However, it's still with a certain reluctance that I head off and when I'm on the road I realise that it's because I'm heading out of Patagonia. I've loved Patagonia, both the Chilean and Argentinian parts, and both the scenery and the people and I'm genuinely sad to leave such an amazing place. I really hope that I get to go back.

Leaving Patagonia

Directions: Keep the sea to your left and
the really big mountains to your right

On the road it's a case of hand-railing the Andes on your right, a string of occasionally stunning volcanoes and mountains line the route. On a hill I pass a female cyclist that looks like one of the pair that I'd met on the Carretera Austral and at the top of the hill I pull into a bus stop and find the other. This is now the 3rd time that we've met and although I know they're from Switzerland I still don't know their names. It turns out they're heading to Santiago and plan to be there on Friday night and I should be arriving at a similar time so we swap phone numbers (for WhatsApp, no one actually calls people!) and I head on north. I stop at Copec petrol/service stations that all look identical, constructed from the same blue-prints for fuel and drive on towards Talca. I'm in wine country and have realised while on the road that if I want to have a look at some of the vineyards (and sample some of the wines) I'm going to have to have some non-riding days, and so if I want to get to Santiago for the weekend I can only stay in one of Talca or Curico. Talca doesn't look particularly appealing and so I head to Curico, find a place to stay and just as I'm checking in realise I no longer have my wallet. I last had it when I paid for fuel, about 180km to the south and thinking that I may have dropped it there as I moved the bike away from the fuel pump. So I turn around and drive back to the petrol station, but it's not there and I believe them when they say they haven't seen it. I can't see it on the road on the exit back onto the road and head north in the futile hope that maybe I'll catch a glimpse of a black leather wallet on  a black tarmac road, in the dark with fog coming in. Needless to say I don't see it, get back to the hotel in Curico at about 1:30am after having driven 1,025km (my longest mileage day by some way) and then start to make the phone calls to cancel the two cards that I had in my wallet at the time. Go to bed around 2 tired and frustrated with myself.

Curico seems a nice enough place when I have a look at it the next day. Not particularly pretty, but many of the older buildings collapsed in the devastating earthquake of 1928. Another big one in 2010 didn't help matters and some of the buildings put up to replace the damaged or destroyed ones are no doubt more sturdy but aren't necessarily more attractive [12]. I reported the loss of my wallet to the police who are friendly and professional (not that I expect to get it back, but you never know and I get a piece of paper to say I've lost my drivers licence), buy a new (cheap and brighter coloured) wallet and a dog lead to attach it to myself, so now I look a little bit gangster and/or can take a dog for a walk at a moments notice.

Proposal: Menu con maridaje

The Miguel Torres bodega is a short drive from the town centre and I head there to have a look around. I get there around lunch time and treat myself to a wine matched menu which is very good, with some interesting wines I would find out more about later. The only one which was a little disappointing was the Carmenere which had a great nose, but quite a watery taste (the food was good too). Then onto the winery tour and I was the only person so was able to ask lots of stupid questions and I found it fascinating how the process is in many respects similar to the brewing process but that the different beverages highlight different elements in or aspects of the process to make it special (or seem special at least). I'm going to try and write some of it down but given how "current" I am with this that could take some time. The Torres family is Spanish and at the time (in the 1970's) Miguel was the next generation who spotted the potential for great wines in Chile and came out, buying some vineyards and introducing technology (such as stainless steel fermentation tanks) that were unheard of in Chile at the time. After the tour I get to try some more wines and end up buying two bottles. This means I'm now out of cash for a taxi back (having slimmed my wallet down to a minimum) so walk back into town as the sun goes down.

Into Santiago the next day (it's the Saturday by now) and after a while on the dual carriageway I get bored and head off onto a series of smaller roads to the east, which track alongside large fields of vines on which the leaves are turning golden and red. A beautiful, sinuous road takes me over some hills that appear out of nowhere and then I drop back down and onto the main roads running into Santiago. Very glad that my GPS has decent mapping of the city (and the one way system) I get to the hostel, find my Swiss friends are there, unpack the bike and find a temporary (i.e. expensive) car park for it before showering and heading out to rediscover the city I last visited on a flying visit in 2003 to go skiing for a long weekend.

Notes:
1. Alfajores are essentially two crumbly biscuits sandwiching a layer of dulce de leche (or similar) and occasionally covered in chocolate. A British cyclist I met later in the trip called them Waggonwheels...
2. The result of the June 2011 Puyehue - Cordon Caulle eruption. Random facts about the eruption, the ash cloud went 12km high and resulted in the temporary closure of the airport in Melbourne (yes, the Melbourne in Australia).
3. And he did, the first person on this trip who's said they have a good photo of me, has taken my email address and then actually sent them to me. Some of the photos are in this blog entry.
4. Yes, I know that I've just written about my slightly abortive night in Colonia Suissa but I have a short memory for those sorts of things and sleeping in a cabin in the forest was probably nicer than spending the night in the centre of Bariloche.
5. My first night in Buenos Aires introduced me to Argentinian evening timings. Having landed in the morning after an overnight flight, after a long week packing up my life in the UK and then spending the day sorting out the arrival of my bike, I got back to the hostel for the asado (BBQ) which I had been told was starting at 9pm. The beer started at 9pm, the tequila which a US guy who was working in Colombia and on holiday in Argentina had brought started soon after and at about midnight the charcoal was lit with food coming at 1am and at 2am I admitted defeat and headed to bed.
6. Steak tartare on toast, with onions, amazing sauces and washed down with a Cuello Negro stout, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.
7. Other collective nouns for sea lions include bob, colony, flock. herd and team amongst others, but I think crash best described their behaviour when I saw them. I could use pod as well but this to me suggests movement and would duplicate the one for pelicans (and pod appears to be the only option for pelicans). I particularly like the idea of a venue of vultures. When on the ground in a group they do tend to look as though they're waiting for something to start, although there's that nagging doubt that they're looking at you and debating whether to change their behaviour from scavengers to something a little more rare, and moving...
8. On the 22 May 1960 a 9.5 magnitude earthquake hit, devastating the city and initiating a tsunami that was 25m high along the coast of Chile and was even 10m high 10,000km away from the epicentre.
9. Since Coyhaique I'd been using Zygrib for weather forecasts after having it recommended to me by a pair of Dutch hitch hikers. It seems to be amazingly accurate, include temperature, wind and precipitation on something like 4 hour intervals over a 10 day forecasting period, that you can download onto your computer. I'd definitely recommend it.
10. http://www.andy-kirkpatrick.com/articles/view/the_art_of_not_suffering
11. A walking variation of "hot bagging".
12. I hope they're more sturdy. The alternative is that they've gone for a more disposable design but if that was the case I feel sorry for the people who have to work and live in them.