Bariloche, the Nazis, Butch Cassidy and the Argentinian Lakes District 14th - 24th March

Bariloche is somewhat infamous for giving refuge to Nazis on the run. Peron, Argentina’s most famous and revered ex-president, was also a national socialist and provided a safe haven for Nazis fleeing Europe after World War II, and simultaneously denied entry to any Jews fleeing the holocaust (however, this is a fact that Argentines are not particularly proud of). Bariloche, with its alpine surroundings of lakes and hills, and Swiss-style wooden houses, offered the most familiar landscape for fleeing Germans, not to mention little threat of having to pay for any nasty crimes committed under Hitler’s rule. It provided a safe haven for the likes of Aribert Heim, aka Dr Death, most famous for injecting gasoline and poisons into his victims’ hearts and timing how long it took them to die. Apparently, at 93, he’s still around somewhere but no one’s telling, including his family. The Argentine government has since repealed its Nazi-sympathetic laws and is joining in the hunt for Heim, among others.

Which is all very ironic as we found ourselves in a hostal full of Israeli clientele. Our simple room had a lovely view over the lake, and the wind constantly blasting the window. Unfortunately, the weather was a bit crappy on Sunday which was the day we’d chosen to bike the Circuito Chico, a 35km route around various lakes and the famous and expensive Hotel Llao Llao. Of course it was lovely to be back on the bikes - they were the perfect way to see Bariloche’s lush surroundings and there were precious few chaotic Argentine drivers to send us flying off the road in fear of our lives.

We picked up a car the next day (which was beautifully sunny) and made our way to Junín de los Andes, some 200km north of Bariloche. We thought this journey would only take a couple of hours but as just under half the journey was hardcore ripio (unpaved), the journey took pretty much the whole day. We were lucky enough to arrive in Junín in time to walk up to Parque Via Christi, a park which has a most original trail boasting various statues, relief sculptures and mosaics which outline the area’s Christian and Mapuche culture and history. The last few days of Christ’s life are displayed along with the complete subjugation of the Mapuche by the Spanish.

After our enlightening and informative walk around the park, we met a lovely Argentinian couple, Eduardo and Erica, from near Córdoba, who invited us to have our first real ‘máte’ experience. Máte is an inherent part of Argentinian culture, a very strong tea made with yerba máte (various herbs) that is drunk everywhere and anywhere by everyone. Copious amounts of yerba máte are poured into a wooden or leather gourd with an equal amount of sugar before adding not quite boiling water. The drinker then sucks the liquid up through a filtering metal straw. Despite not containing caffeine, the drink does have rather an odd affect, making one rather hot and sweaty and a little bit lightheaded. All in all, it was a very pleasant experience with lots of interesting conversation from football to politics.

We were disappointed not to have more time in Junín. We loved the Arabic food we had at the only restaurant in town, and our breakfast at the Hostería Chimehuin was even better, with loads left over to stuff our pockets with and keep us fed throughout the day. We visited Volcán Lanín on the Chilean border, but unfortunately did not climb it as this would have been quite a mighty job, really only for expert climbers. Our subsequent walk down to Lago Tromen nearby (we were too scared to ford the river with our tiny car, unlike everyone else), saw the camera break. After a rather hot and dusty day exploring these places we were rather taken aback when the Argentine gendarmerie stopped us at a checkpoint and insisted on comprehensively searching the car. There was a fair bit of discussion as to whether to report the clearly labelled vials of pills and bicarbonate of soda found in our luggage, but after clearly explaining what they were for (usual travelling kit of painkillers and anti-histamines etc), they let us go on our way.

Posada Quínen, our accommodation in San Martin de Los Andes the next night, went straight to the top of our best hotel list. At US$40, we got a clean, rustic-style room, a fridge, all the toiletries you could need and an almost excellent breakfast, unfortunately sullied by the return of cold Argentinian toast. Our efforts at trying to get to one of the nearby termas (volcanic spas) were frustrated by the fact that that our car was not hardcore enough to get down the extremely bad road (4×4 only) and too late to walk the rest of the way (an hour and a half). We had an excellent meal in the evening, however, and drunk rather a bit too much wine which saw N wake up the next day with the waitress’ cold in the form of a sore throat. The supposedly beautiful seven lakes route we took (again over half ripio) was very disappointing due to the not very nice weather, and we really struggled to see what the guidebooks had been raving about.

Our visit to Villa La Angostura was marred by two things. Firstly, it was Easter and the area being Argentina’s top holiday destination saw it absolutely jammers with tourists, and being a town constructed solely for tourists it is not a very inspiring place at all. Secondly, our accommodation there went straight to the bottom of our worst hotel list. We decided to go over-budget and stay in a recommended bed and breakfast called Verena’s Haus, and on making the reservation, the owner found it very difficult to trust us and confirm our reservation despite repeated attempts at giving her our credit card numbers. On arrival, we were further disappointed by the ghastly suffocating odour of musty, old flowers in our room. Luckily, we traced the horrible smell to a little ball of pot pourri hanging from the lamp, and thankfully sealed it away in an empty tin box which had curiously been left on the bed. The B&B prided itself on being a peaceful place to stay, but we were mightily unimpressed on being woken up by the owner’s whinging dog at 6am on both mornings; not only did it take ages to get the dog to shut up, but of course she set off all the other dogs in the neighbourhood, which guaranteed absolutely no opportunity at all for a lie in. We decided we ought to say something but to no avail as she insisted that her precious dog had only been making noise for 10 minutes instead of half an hour. And all this for a good bit more money than we had paid in San Martín.

One of the major tourists attractions of the area is the 13km long Quetrihue peninsula, at the tip of which is the Bosque de los Arrayanes, a type of myrtle (very rare these days). Getting to the peninsula means a boatride, a bikeride or a walk. As N’s cold had well and truly developed, we weren’t really up for major exercise, so settled on the idea of the boat trip. And being a lovely sunny Good Friday so had everyone else. After lots of confusion and running around (the tickets went very quickly) we finally found ourselves booked on a one-way boat trip to the forest, and settled with walking back the 13km. Unfortunately, the guide’s idea that the forest inspired Walt Disney’s film Bambi is not true, as he never went there, but something’s gotta bring the people, and therefore, the money in! Despite having to share the forest with hoardes of other tourists on boats from Bariloche and Angostura, the experience became a lot more pleasant when we escaped the crowds and hiked our way back and enjoyed the fresh, shaded air of the forest.

We were very relieved to leave this most touristy and noise polluted place for Bariloche, but were disappointed to find that our plan of getting back to Chile on Easter Sunday was not going to happen as every bus was completely booked up, including all the extra ones they put on, so after making some phonecalls, we hopped back into our car and headed south for El Bolsón, a town outside the national parks, but whose surroundings we thought infinitely more picturesque than the Seven Lakes district. Our highlight of the day was stopping at a little group of huts near Cholila (further south from El Bolsón), which once housed the infamous Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and their beautiful female sidekick, who came here to live from 1901 to 1905 and escape the American authorities, although not for long. They soon ran out of money and had to resort to their old ways: they held up a bank in Rio Gallegos and were once again on the run until Butch Cassidy’s death in Bolivia during a shoot out a few years later, or maybe not. According to his sister, he was home back in the States having lunch with them in 1925. Who knows?

Recommended after this visit:

Junín de los Andes: Hostería Chimehuin and restaurant on main square (will look up name)
Parque Via Christi

San Martín de los Andes:
Posada Quínen
Restaurants: Ku (in town) and Caranegra (4km north of town)

Bariloche:
The Map Room (a bar/restaurant decorated with maps of places the ex-travelling owners have visited)

Cholila: Hostería El Trebol (excellent food and better wine!)

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