One of the issues hovering in the background for the whole of our lap of Argentina and Chile was coming up with a schedule that would get us into Chile and back, then up to Iguazú and then land us back in Buenos Aires in time to fly home, all without killing ourselves in the process but maximising our enjoyment.
All the way we were looking for places where we'd like to spend another day. Unfortunately, the few times we found such a place, we'd often committted the following night and couldn't stay. For example, we could have spent another day in Mendoza and/or Resistencia.
These tensions were most evident in the question of how to schedule our trip back to Buenos Aires from Iguazú - about 15 hours driving. How many days to split the drive into and whether to stay two nights anywhere on the way? For the first day we decided to drive only four hours to Posadas, to give us a morning by the pool in the second Iguazú hotel and then make an easy start.
The city of Posadas is located in a bend where the Paraná river, which forms the border between Argentina and Paraguay to the west, opens out into a lake. The Iguazú falls are on a fork from this, the Iguazú river, which forms the border between Argentina and Brazil to the east.
We found the HA Hotel, just a couple of blocks from the main square, to be comfortable and well-appointed, not to mention much cheaper than lesser places we'd stayed before. In the evening we drank in a roadside bar (under an umbrella) and then strolled to the riverfront, where we found a very pleasant view and a selection of good restaurants where we had a fine meal.
We added Posadas to our list of places where we could have spent another day. However, we decided not to do so. As soon as we get back to the UK we have a lot to do very quickly. Hence we decided we'd try to bring our flights forward a few days, and so get back to Buenos Aires as quickly as possible.
Thus we left Posadas after one night and headed to Federación, splitting the remaining journey into just two days. Unfortunately, soon after booking the room and setting out, we received an email saying that the cost of the flight changes would be exorbitant. Hence we were stuck with a plan that left us in Buenos Aires for five nights at the end. Never mind.
Before setting out from Posadas, I brought the SatNav into the hotel to program the address for the hotel we'd booked in Federación. This was fortunate, because it turned out to be on the outskirts of the town on unmetalled roads the SatNav didn't know about. This obviously wasn't a new problem, because I actually found a lat/long location for the hotel by googling inside their website (which wouldn't display properly on my iPhone).
Six or seven hours driving later the SatNav said "you have reached your destination". We hadn't, but I didn't immediately realise it. When we ran out of roads the SatNav knew about I expected it to mark a point and give us an angle and distance. No. It went to the end of the roads it knew and washed its hands quietly.
If I'd realised, I could have used the proper GPS app on my iPhone to take us the rest of the way. Instead, I had to ask directions in a nearby hotel, where the chap had to google it himself.
Three red-gravel-road blocks later we found half a dozen bungalows, very flattered by their photographs, but comfortable enough (although we had to move all the furniture to get something soft to sit on in front of the telly).
We showed our gratitude to the direction-giving hotel by eating in their restaurant that night - surprisingly good meals for somewhere not so "flash".
Federación is a town famous as a hot spring resort beside a lake. Apparently there's a huge fresh water aquifer under that area of Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay. In Federación they drilled down to it and built a set of pools surrounded by lawns, each at an exact temperature (36, 37, 38, 39, 40-but-empty and their top-of-the-line 41).
It took us a little while to work out the local customs, but eventually we took our hired towels and spent the maximum-advised 20 minutes in the 37-degree pool, followed by a stroll round the rest of the park.
We continued our brief tour of Federación with a drive beside the lake in a fruitless search for lunch. We noticed the water was bright green, even where very shallow at the edge.
Exercising my scientific side (what Clare calls my "little boy"), I filled a bottle with this completely green liquid and took it away to "study". It eventually separated out to give an inch of solid green on the top of clear water below, with a faint earthy smell. I poured the clear water away and noticed the bottle "deflate" over the next couple of days. I guess that could be "biological oxygen demand" and show the green stuff is alive. I hope it doesn't cause any trouble when I eventually throw it away. I watched a TV programme about this tropical moss imported for aquarium decoration that got into the Mediterranean when the tanks were cleaned out and is now growing like topsy, progressively filling inshore areas, killing previous flora and fauna. Ho hum.
We left Federación hungry, for another six hour drive. The whole road from Posadas to Buenos Aires is a building site, as it is upgraded to well-separated dual carriageway. However, this seems to have been let out as a myriad of small contracts, because every few miles one has to do a bit of light off-roading to switch between lovely smooth tarmac or concrete and old, dangerously-deformed tarmac - probably the result of inadequate construction and too-many too-heavy lorries on too-hot days.
We came to dread the next "desvio" (diversion) sign and whatever quality of road it would presage.
Ultimately we reached Buenos Aires in the early evening, planned to miss the rush-hour traffic, and the SatNav took us straight to our final hotel, another 5* but only marginally more expensive than other places with the outdoor pool we felt essential for our four-day rest in BA before flying home.
Tuesday 20 March 2012
Incredible Iguazú (Part 2)
Iguazú Falls would have to be on anyone's list of the world's great sites, and a guaranteed stop on a modern, global "grand tour", just like Machu Picchu.
On the first morning we wandered out and took the low circuit. This looped through the jungle south of the falls, mostly on metal-mesh walkways elevated one or two metres and on concrete the rest of the way. This allowed one to walk through the jungle without disturbing any wildlife. One of the unexpected highlights was the great number of butterflies around us during the walk. Quite a few different types, sitting happily on the handrails and bushes so close to us. There were great views along the way, first toward the "Devil's Throat" (Garganta del Dialbo), and then panoramas of the other falls covering much of the long curving cliff face. A lot of photos were taken.
Between these views sits a large rocky outcrop, described as an island but I'm not sure if it technically is. It was obvious that one of the best views would be from the high corner of this island. Hence we decided to walk down all the steps to reach the ferry, and then up all the steps to the top of the island. When we reached the top, Clare felt faint with the heat and effort, and had to sit for a while. I felt quite good that I seemed to be coping well with the exercise. The view was worth it - half the height of the cliff and continually showered with spray from the second-largest waterfall, looking across most of the others.
We climbed back down, re-crossed the ferry, and back up the stairs to rejoin the low circuit. We were most of the way up when I felt faint myself, with heart racing. I took a long rest and climbed the rest of the way very slowly, then took time over rehydration with lunch. I felt quite concerned about my health, and will be taking account of this later.
We spent the remainder of the day around the hotel pool. We were kept amused by half a dozen long-legged locals - a family of birds who wandered freely around the poolside the whole time, mostly ignoring the tourists invading their nice jungle.
On the second day we took the high circuit, across the top of the falls and gratifyingly flat. The views when directly above weren't so amazing - mostly watching water idling along, totally unsuspecting the turmoil about to befall it. The earlier part of the walk, approaching from the side, did offer new perspectives on the wide sweep of falls, covering such a long span. After that we had to catch a narrow-guage train and then walk just over a kilometre along similar walkways, but these were 5 metres above the river upstream of the falls. I say river, but the walkway actually crossed islands separating the water into five different rivers, each the width of a major river in its own right - each as wide as the Thames in Central London.
At the end of this walkway we reached the Devil's Throat itself. So much water coming over the edge in sheets of green, progressively turning to white as order turns to falling chaos. We stayed there for ages, just trying to soak in the experience. We took so many photographs too - a repeat of the futile urge to try capturing in a minature frame something so huge that our live and present perceptions found it impossible to encompass.
Another afternoon by the pool - life is so hard! Whilst floating together we decided to treat ourselves to another night at the hotel. Unfortunately they couldn't offer us a comparable room, so we booked another 5* hotel nearby, justifying this as a relative saving.
On the third day we repeated the low circuit (omitting the near-fatal stairs down to the ferry). It was nice to take a last look at the falls and satisfy ourselves that we'd seen as much as we could. This included a place where the walkway reached out as a high platform, quite close to one of the falls and covered in spray. We spent ages there, soaking in this last part of our stunning experience.
Then we left the falls and national park and drove about half an hour to the next hotel for the last night. We went via Puerto Iguazú, the nearby town. We were not impressed at all - a two-horse town where one horse had left. We were so glad not to be staying there.
The new hotel was quite interesting and divided our opinions. It was right in the middle of the jungle, but whereas the Sheraton Iguazú was in the middle of a large clearing, here the jungle remained right next to the buildings, like a cookie-cutter had been dropped in to make space for the blocks and the pools. We could both see that it was finished to a fine standard, had a good restaurant and pretty good service. Clare really liked the place, but somehow it felt a bit "fake" to me - the design trying too hard, or maybe too much dissonance between the super-clean, modern architecture and the natural surroundings.
We left the Iguazú area the next day well content, having had a truly amazing experience.
On the first morning we wandered out and took the low circuit. This looped through the jungle south of the falls, mostly on metal-mesh walkways elevated one or two metres and on concrete the rest of the way. This allowed one to walk through the jungle without disturbing any wildlife. One of the unexpected highlights was the great number of butterflies around us during the walk. Quite a few different types, sitting happily on the handrails and bushes so close to us. There were great views along the way, first toward the "Devil's Throat" (Garganta del Dialbo), and then panoramas of the other falls covering much of the long curving cliff face. A lot of photos were taken.
Between these views sits a large rocky outcrop, described as an island but I'm not sure if it technically is. It was obvious that one of the best views would be from the high corner of this island. Hence we decided to walk down all the steps to reach the ferry, and then up all the steps to the top of the island. When we reached the top, Clare felt faint with the heat and effort, and had to sit for a while. I felt quite good that I seemed to be coping well with the exercise. The view was worth it - half the height of the cliff and continually showered with spray from the second-largest waterfall, looking across most of the others.
We climbed back down, re-crossed the ferry, and back up the stairs to rejoin the low circuit. We were most of the way up when I felt faint myself, with heart racing. I took a long rest and climbed the rest of the way very slowly, then took time over rehydration with lunch. I felt quite concerned about my health, and will be taking account of this later.
We spent the remainder of the day around the hotel pool. We were kept amused by half a dozen long-legged locals - a family of birds who wandered freely around the poolside the whole time, mostly ignoring the tourists invading their nice jungle.
On the second day we took the high circuit, across the top of the falls and gratifyingly flat. The views when directly above weren't so amazing - mostly watching water idling along, totally unsuspecting the turmoil about to befall it. The earlier part of the walk, approaching from the side, did offer new perspectives on the wide sweep of falls, covering such a long span. After that we had to catch a narrow-guage train and then walk just over a kilometre along similar walkways, but these were 5 metres above the river upstream of the falls. I say river, but the walkway actually crossed islands separating the water into five different rivers, each the width of a major river in its own right - each as wide as the Thames in Central London.
At the end of this walkway we reached the Devil's Throat itself. So much water coming over the edge in sheets of green, progressively turning to white as order turns to falling chaos. We stayed there for ages, just trying to soak in the experience. We took so many photographs too - a repeat of the futile urge to try capturing in a minature frame something so huge that our live and present perceptions found it impossible to encompass.
Another afternoon by the pool - life is so hard! Whilst floating together we decided to treat ourselves to another night at the hotel. Unfortunately they couldn't offer us a comparable room, so we booked another 5* hotel nearby, justifying this as a relative saving.
On the third day we repeated the low circuit (omitting the near-fatal stairs down to the ferry). It was nice to take a last look at the falls and satisfy ourselves that we'd seen as much as we could. This included a place where the walkway reached out as a high platform, quite close to one of the falls and covered in spray. We spent ages there, soaking in this last part of our stunning experience.
Then we left the falls and national park and drove about half an hour to the next hotel for the last night. We went via Puerto Iguazú, the nearby town. We were not impressed at all - a two-horse town where one horse had left. We were so glad not to be staying there.
The new hotel was quite interesting and divided our opinions. It was right in the middle of the jungle, but whereas the Sheraton Iguazú was in the middle of a large clearing, here the jungle remained right next to the buildings, like a cookie-cutter had been dropped in to make space for the blocks and the pools. We could both see that it was finished to a fine standard, had a good restaurant and pretty good service. Clare really liked the place, but somehow it felt a bit "fake" to me - the design trying too hard, or maybe too much dissonance between the super-clean, modern architecture and the natural surroundings.
We left the Iguazú area the next day well content, having had a truly amazing experience.
Wednesday 14 March 2012
Incredible Iguazú (Part 1)
During our previous journey from Córdoba to Santa Fé we stopped for lunch at a large grill restaurant on the outskirts of San Francisco (after Los Angeles, we thought we should give a U.S.-named city another chance).
We mention it here due to the Córdoban couple on the table next to us at lunch. They described the Sheraton Iguazú, located within the national park, with a direct view of the falls and the ability to walk to see them whenever you wanted.
The prospect was so attractive that we decided to push the boat out, blowing our normal budget by several times. We booked a falls-view room with king-sized bed for three nights.
We stood at check-in, looking past the receptionist, out of the whole-wall window, directly at the view of the largest fall. This gave us an indication of what we might expect of our room and we were not disappointed!
The whole spectacle is comprised of many waterfalls, covering most of a curving escapement more than half a mile in length, with the largest fall at the left-hand end - the Devil's Throat - and that is the incredible view we enjoyed from our room and all parts of the hotel every time we looked out of a window.
The national park is very well laid out. Well-designed and well built walkways through the heart of the natural jungle offer one route below the falls, with amazing views from the front, some bathed in spray, and another two over the top, along the edge of the falls.
We mention it here due to the Córdoban couple on the table next to us at lunch. They described the Sheraton Iguazú, located within the national park, with a direct view of the falls and the ability to walk to see them whenever you wanted.
The prospect was so attractive that we decided to push the boat out, blowing our normal budget by several times. We booked a falls-view room with king-sized bed for three nights.
We stood at check-in, looking past the receptionist, out of the whole-wall window, directly at the view of the largest fall. This gave us an indication of what we might expect of our room and we were not disappointed!
The whole spectacle is comprised of many waterfalls, covering most of a curving escapement more than half a mile in length, with the largest fall at the left-hand end - the Devil's Throat - and that is the incredible view we enjoyed from our room and all parts of the hotel every time we looked out of a window.
The national park is very well laid out. Well-designed and well built walkways through the heart of the natural jungle offer one route below the falls, with amazing views from the front, some bathed in spray, and another two over the top, along the edge of the falls.
Resistencia
The main thrust of our route after Santiago was to get to Iguazú via a series of pleasant or interesting places with comfortable hotels.
Mendoza was a nice town where we didn't find a good place to stay. In Córdoba we found a great apartment but didn't take to the town.
Clare and I differed in our feelings about the comparison between Santa Fé and Córdoba. Neither of us found Santa Fé town remarkable. Clare, as mentioned, was not a fan of Córdoba itself and also preferred the hotel in Santa Fé. I preferred Córdoba for both accommodation and town, former more than latter, feeling Clare had been unduly put off by the weekday crowds. Neither had nice places to eat like Mendoza, though.
We wanted a route from Santa Fé to Puerto Iguazú (the nearest town to the falls) that didn't replicate so much the route we'd have to take back from there to BA. Surfing, we found Resistencia described as "city of sculptures" and decided to make that our next stop.
The road from Santa Fé to Iguazú via Resistencia is National Route 12. Early on the first day we passed the marker (milestone) for kilometer 500 and spent all day watching these gradually count down to kilometer 1000 just south of Resistencia, as the scenery gradually changed from semi-desert to lush plains.
On leaving Resistencia they rose past kilometer 1500 to around 1600 as the landscape gradually changed again from plains to jungle.
The hotel in Resistencia was directly on the main square. All main squares in Argentina seem to have roads only round the sides, occupy the space of four city blocks and be full of trees and statues. This hotel was unusual because it had a very narrow frontage, all of glass. The rooms were accordingly small, but very well-designed and finished that this didn't matter.
The area for shower and toilet was walled entirely with near-opaque glass, with the sink outside near the room door. The king-sized bed faced a fair-sized flat-screen TV.
However, the most remarkable feature of the room were the blinds facing the street. There were four panes of mesh, the middle two of which drew aside. Behind these was a full-height blackout blind, raised and lowered by a bedside electric switch. Different, clever and effective.
On the first evening I asked at the hotel reception where we might find restaurants. He made various marks on the map covering the few blocks directly behind the hotel. We went that way, and slightly further, and eventually found a couple of attractive-looking restaurants nearly side-by-side. However, by 8:45pm they still looked like they were preparing to open.
We took drinks at a nearby bar to pass some time, sharing a large bottle of lager, neat for Dave and shandy for Clare.
Around 9:30 we returned to find the restaurants looking little different. Fortunately, a woman outside one assured us it was open. Maybe it had been all along?
The surroundings and service were impeccable, the food good but unexceptional.
On the second night we looked all over the town for another good restaurant, taking ages. Eventually we ended up next door to the previous night. The environment and the service were fine but a bit less stylish. The food, however, was amazing and I took pains to tell the manager how impressed I was. A real treat.
We took our day in Resistencia very easy. First a stroll across the square, then a lap of the edge, following a line of orange tiles set into the pavement. Resistencia cleverly holds a sculpture festival/competition every four years, and has been for some time, becoming internationally recognised. The sculptures in the competition have to stay in the city, now amounting to over 500 works, many of which are connected by this path of orange dots.
We followed the line for some time, enjoying the pieces. We ended at the bar outside the local arts centre, where we repeated our lager-and-shandy trick, found a free wi-fi hotspot and sat for ages reading up the history of several common street names on Wikipedia (e.g. Bernardo O'Higgins, apparently a loose cannon as a military leader but a key figure in freeing South America from Spanish rule after 1810, when Spain itself was conquered by Napoleon's France).
We liked Resistencia, and might have stayed longer if we hadn't already booked the next night in Iguazú (and run out of good local restaurants ;)
Mendoza was a nice town where we didn't find a good place to stay. In Córdoba we found a great apartment but didn't take to the town.
Clare and I differed in our feelings about the comparison between Santa Fé and Córdoba. Neither of us found Santa Fé town remarkable. Clare, as mentioned, was not a fan of Córdoba itself and also preferred the hotel in Santa Fé. I preferred Córdoba for both accommodation and town, former more than latter, feeling Clare had been unduly put off by the weekday crowds. Neither had nice places to eat like Mendoza, though.
We wanted a route from Santa Fé to Puerto Iguazú (the nearest town to the falls) that didn't replicate so much the route we'd have to take back from there to BA. Surfing, we found Resistencia described as "city of sculptures" and decided to make that our next stop.
The road from Santa Fé to Iguazú via Resistencia is National Route 12. Early on the first day we passed the marker (milestone) for kilometer 500 and spent all day watching these gradually count down to kilometer 1000 just south of Resistencia, as the scenery gradually changed from semi-desert to lush plains.
On leaving Resistencia they rose past kilometer 1500 to around 1600 as the landscape gradually changed again from plains to jungle.
The hotel in Resistencia was directly on the main square. All main squares in Argentina seem to have roads only round the sides, occupy the space of four city blocks and be full of trees and statues. This hotel was unusual because it had a very narrow frontage, all of glass. The rooms were accordingly small, but very well-designed and finished that this didn't matter.
The area for shower and toilet was walled entirely with near-opaque glass, with the sink outside near the room door. The king-sized bed faced a fair-sized flat-screen TV.
However, the most remarkable feature of the room were the blinds facing the street. There were four panes of mesh, the middle two of which drew aside. Behind these was a full-height blackout blind, raised and lowered by a bedside electric switch. Different, clever and effective.
On the first evening I asked at the hotel reception where we might find restaurants. He made various marks on the map covering the few blocks directly behind the hotel. We went that way, and slightly further, and eventually found a couple of attractive-looking restaurants nearly side-by-side. However, by 8:45pm they still looked like they were preparing to open.
We took drinks at a nearby bar to pass some time, sharing a large bottle of lager, neat for Dave and shandy for Clare.
Around 9:30 we returned to find the restaurants looking little different. Fortunately, a woman outside one assured us it was open. Maybe it had been all along?
The surroundings and service were impeccable, the food good but unexceptional.
On the second night we looked all over the town for another good restaurant, taking ages. Eventually we ended up next door to the previous night. The environment and the service were fine but a bit less stylish. The food, however, was amazing and I took pains to tell the manager how impressed I was. A real treat.
We took our day in Resistencia very easy. First a stroll across the square, then a lap of the edge, following a line of orange tiles set into the pavement. Resistencia cleverly holds a sculpture festival/competition every four years, and has been for some time, becoming internationally recognised. The sculptures in the competition have to stay in the city, now amounting to over 500 works, many of which are connected by this path of orange dots.
We followed the line for some time, enjoying the pieces. We ended at the bar outside the local arts centre, where we repeated our lager-and-shandy trick, found a free wi-fi hotspot and sat for ages reading up the history of several common street names on Wikipedia (e.g. Bernardo O'Higgins, apparently a loose cannon as a military leader but a key figure in freeing South America from Spanish rule after 1810, when Spain itself was conquered by Napoleon's France).
We liked Resistencia, and might have stayed longer if we hadn't already booked the next night in Iguazú (and run out of good local restaurants ;)
Córdoba and Santa Fé
Having arrived in Córdoba with the weather closing in, we just wanted a quiet evening on the sofa.
There were no restaurants near the apartments, but there was a food delivery service and the staff at the apartments had a menu and were happy to place an order for us. We ordered pizzas, which the staff kindly brought to our room when they were delivered. There was also a supermarket just round the corner, good for getting wine, etc!
The next morning the bad weather had passed, although it had rained heavily overnight, and the day looked set to be hot and sunny.
We were about 12 blocks from the centre of Córdoba and we made our way to the centre. I have to say that my initial impressions of Córdoba were not good; the walk to the centre was through quite a run-down area, although there was a lot of building work going on, and my impressions did not change as we got closer.
Córdoba is not a pretty city, it's busy and bustling, but for me was lacking any personality. We went to find somewhere to eat, which would now be brunch, rather than breakfast. We found a place in a shopping arcade just off one of the main streets; I had a salad and Dave ordered a sandwich but ended up with something more like a lasagne filled with the slices of ham and processed cheese we normally get offered at breakfast.
We then continued onto the main square and went into the cathedral, which was undergoing renovation.
It was very hot, so we found a bar in a smaller, prettier area. While there, we rang my Mum and then Dave's parents using Skype. Dave's parents were out, but we spoke to them later. It was really good to speak to Mum and later Dave's Mum and Dad and I enjoyed sitting at the cafe (you will have noted that I like doing this!)
We had considered another night in Córdoba, but I was not keen and we both felt that there was no more to be seen, so we decided to go onto our next destination of Santa Fé.
Up fairly early the next morning to load up car - we found out as we were loading the car that we got breakfast included in our booking of the apartment, but had not realised this - I think a case of so many hotels booked and not noticing or remembering all the details at the time of booking!
We set off, but the sat nav took us on a bit of a journey round the houses before we got out of Córdoba.
Thereafter, this journey turned out to be mainly on long straight roads and we also encountered at least half a dozen police control areas, at one of which an officer told us that one of the front lights on the car was not working (you have to have your lights on dipped here).
We stopped for petrol a bit further on and Dave took the opportunity to replace the bulb; it was also going to be another hot day, easily reaching 36 degrees plus.
We stopped for lunch at a nice restaurant next to a petrol station, just outside San Francisco - pasta for me and chicken for Dave. Temperature on returning to the car was 41.5 degrees; that is hot!!!
The hotel we had booked in Santa Fé was about 3 miles from the centre and just off the motorway. We spotted the hotel , which was on the other side of the dual carriage way, so initially we were not sure how we were going to get there, as there was no obvious exit from our side of the road. However, with the sat nav and Dave's sense of direction we took a loop round the outskirts of the town and got on the right side of the road.
Hotel was in a secure compound and a fairly new complex. Our room was located away from the main hotel in a separate block and was very nice.
As we were a little way out of town, we ate in the hotel.
Next morning we headed into Santa Fé, it was extremely hot, quite sapping heat. The hotel directed us Initially to a new shopping complex in the port area, which was air conditioned - bliss! Come lunchtime, we decided to eat in the "food court" which took up half the building. We found eight separate fast food outlets, but all were serving almost identical menus; the typical dishes we'd seen in nearly every restaurant in South America. By contrast, in the UK we'd expect one each of Chinese, Indian, Italian, U.S. (burgers), English (fish & chips) and possibly Mexican. So no points here for originality. We eventually spotted a couple of wok meals at one place and went for those to get a bit of variety.
We then decided to walk into the main town, where most of the shops were closed. Nothing to make Santa Fé stand out, but it was not an unpleasant town. The heat was becoming unbearable, so we decided to head back to the hotel to chill out by the pool. The road back to the hotel was closed, we think due to an accident, we could see smoke. Again we had to do a loop around town to find a route back!
Lounged round the pool for a few hours and ate again in the hotel.
There were no restaurants near the apartments, but there was a food delivery service and the staff at the apartments had a menu and were happy to place an order for us. We ordered pizzas, which the staff kindly brought to our room when they were delivered. There was also a supermarket just round the corner, good for getting wine, etc!
The next morning the bad weather had passed, although it had rained heavily overnight, and the day looked set to be hot and sunny.
We were about 12 blocks from the centre of Córdoba and we made our way to the centre. I have to say that my initial impressions of Córdoba were not good; the walk to the centre was through quite a run-down area, although there was a lot of building work going on, and my impressions did not change as we got closer.
Córdoba is not a pretty city, it's busy and bustling, but for me was lacking any personality. We went to find somewhere to eat, which would now be brunch, rather than breakfast. We found a place in a shopping arcade just off one of the main streets; I had a salad and Dave ordered a sandwich but ended up with something more like a lasagne filled with the slices of ham and processed cheese we normally get offered at breakfast.
We then continued onto the main square and went into the cathedral, which was undergoing renovation.
It was very hot, so we found a bar in a smaller, prettier area. While there, we rang my Mum and then Dave's parents using Skype. Dave's parents were out, but we spoke to them later. It was really good to speak to Mum and later Dave's Mum and Dad and I enjoyed sitting at the cafe (you will have noted that I like doing this!)
We had considered another night in Córdoba, but I was not keen and we both felt that there was no more to be seen, so we decided to go onto our next destination of Santa Fé.
Up fairly early the next morning to load up car - we found out as we were loading the car that we got breakfast included in our booking of the apartment, but had not realised this - I think a case of so many hotels booked and not noticing or remembering all the details at the time of booking!
We set off, but the sat nav took us on a bit of a journey round the houses before we got out of Córdoba.
Thereafter, this journey turned out to be mainly on long straight roads and we also encountered at least half a dozen police control areas, at one of which an officer told us that one of the front lights on the car was not working (you have to have your lights on dipped here).
We stopped for petrol a bit further on and Dave took the opportunity to replace the bulb; it was also going to be another hot day, easily reaching 36 degrees plus.
We stopped for lunch at a nice restaurant next to a petrol station, just outside San Francisco - pasta for me and chicken for Dave. Temperature on returning to the car was 41.5 degrees; that is hot!!!
The hotel we had booked in Santa Fé was about 3 miles from the centre and just off the motorway. We spotted the hotel , which was on the other side of the dual carriage way, so initially we were not sure how we were going to get there, as there was no obvious exit from our side of the road. However, with the sat nav and Dave's sense of direction we took a loop round the outskirts of the town and got on the right side of the road.
Hotel was in a secure compound and a fairly new complex. Our room was located away from the main hotel in a separate block and was very nice.
As we were a little way out of town, we ate in the hotel.
Next morning we headed into Santa Fé, it was extremely hot, quite sapping heat. The hotel directed us Initially to a new shopping complex in the port area, which was air conditioned - bliss! Come lunchtime, we decided to eat in the "food court" which took up half the building. We found eight separate fast food outlets, but all were serving almost identical menus; the typical dishes we'd seen in nearly every restaurant in South America. By contrast, in the UK we'd expect one each of Chinese, Indian, Italian, U.S. (burgers), English (fish & chips) and possibly Mexican. So no points here for originality. We eventually spotted a couple of wok meals at one place and went for those to get a bit of variety.
We then decided to walk into the main town, where most of the shops were closed. Nothing to make Santa Fé stand out, but it was not an unpleasant town. The heat was becoming unbearable, so we decided to head back to the hotel to chill out by the pool. The road back to the hotel was closed, we think due to an accident, we could see smoke. Again we had to do a loop around town to find a route back!
Lounged round the pool for a few hours and ate again in the hotel.
Saturday 10 March 2012
Mendoza to Córdoba
In retrospect, we wish we'd spent another night in Mendoza. We had the time and could have spent it there, chilling, but you never know whether the next place will be better - stay or move on? It probably would have involved variations on a theme from the previous day, because we did manage to see a fair slice of the city. Ah well.
We're running through some of Argentina's biggest cities over this stretch and beyond:
Mendoza - 4th (885K population in 2009)
Córdoba - 2nd (1.37M)
Santa Fé - 9th (493K)
Resistencia - 11th (377K)
The journey from Mendoza to Córdoba is a story about SatNavs / GPS systems. Specifically, the TomTom that Clare bought me as a Christmas present. Before we left home, I did some googling and found out that there were embryonic map sets for Argentina and Chile available for the TomTom, and I bought them. The small size of the downloads reinforced my humble expectations, but overall I was very pleasantly surprised. I'll go into this further in a later post, but the SatNav with Argentinan or Chilean maps turned out to be a total game-changer, leading us to the very doors of hotels in foreign cities comprised entirely of side-streets.
So, here it is. South America isn't overloaded with road signs. The paths we've had to take to get in and out of various cities have seemed like labyrinth maps. But SatNavs have positives and negatives.
The road from Mendoza toward Córdoba starts out through poplar-lined avenues between olive groves, but soon blends into the miles of semi-desert we've mentioned before. At one point the lines on the road just stopped and the road smoothly forked on left and right with no signs or markings whatever to suggest which is the "right" or "main" direction.
Outside big towns, the current generation of TomTom maps lacks detail, with only the approximate line of major roads shown. This means that sometimes it says you're a quarter of a mile left or right of the road you're actually on and need to turn left or right to get back on it. At those times it just needs to be ignored. At other times it shows the road taking a sharp left or right turn, and you do have to obey.
Fortunately, in the case of the totally-unsigned junction, the SatNav just showed a curve to the left, which I followed and didn't live to regret.
On the other hand, some hours later we reached a roundabout. The road signs pointed right, which the SatNav claimed as 2 hours and 94 miles. However, the SatNav had been pointing straight on, ten miles and ten minutes less. We thought we'd be clever and follow the SatNav rather than the road signs. Big mistake. We got into the middle of this town and there were no sings to indicate the right way out. We tried various ways and ran out of tarmac every time. We tried to go back the way we'd come and found every road to be no entry or one-way the other way. The SatNav was no help because this was one of the places where it only knew the rough path of the road and its half-mile of uncertainty covered the entire town. After half an hour banging our heads against failed options, I asked a group of taxi drivers. The only way back to where we'd come into the town was out on backstreets about half a mile to the end of some tarmac, then take a sharp right and go looking for a roundabout (which we fortunately recognised, because that wasn't signed either). We were so grateful to get back to where we should have followed signs not SatNav, having lost well over 30 minutes trying to save 10.
This road did reward us, though. Through most of the journey we'd been approaching this very long and very high ridge, starting off by heading straight for it and gradually over hours bending left to run parallel. This road headed straight for the high ridge and wound up the side. Finally it ran along the crest, offering amazing views West far out over the plain we'd crossed - wow and photos!! The road then crossed the top and wound down the far side, with views East toward Córdoba.
There was a sting in the tail. After the earler experience we had to decide we should follow road signs rather than the Sat Nav. Unfortunately, later there was a sign to Córdoba off the big road we were following (National Route 20) and onto what turned out to be C45, winding tightly over a smaller ridge between us and our destination. The roads were harder work (tough at the end of a 6-7 hour drive) but quite fun for me, although a bit dizzy-making. At the end we rejoined Ruta 20, wondering where that had gone in the meantime. Ho hum.
The SatNav took us straight to the door of our accomodation. After the experience of Los Angeles, we'd resolved to always book ahead, generally using the Booking.Com app on my iPhone. However, we couldn't find anywhere on there we liked in Córdoba. Hence we went via TripAdvisor and a quick Google to find the Costa Rivera apartments, which we'd booked by phone and ended up really liking - not flash, but everything we needed and very friendly and helpful staff.
As we'd been approaching the city, we saw a big storm in the distance but approaching. As we parked and fled inside it was grey and threatening overhead with very strong gusts. We anticipated sitting warm inside looking out at nature's turmoil. However, the weather must have expended its fury upstream, as it swiftly cleared where we were, but left what was clearly far more water than usual in the local concrete-bedded "river" the following day.
We're running through some of Argentina's biggest cities over this stretch and beyond:
Mendoza - 4th (885K population in 2009)
Córdoba - 2nd (1.37M)
Santa Fé - 9th (493K)
Resistencia - 11th (377K)
The journey from Mendoza to Córdoba is a story about SatNavs / GPS systems. Specifically, the TomTom that Clare bought me as a Christmas present. Before we left home, I did some googling and found out that there were embryonic map sets for Argentina and Chile available for the TomTom, and I bought them. The small size of the downloads reinforced my humble expectations, but overall I was very pleasantly surprised. I'll go into this further in a later post, but the SatNav with Argentinan or Chilean maps turned out to be a total game-changer, leading us to the very doors of hotels in foreign cities comprised entirely of side-streets.
So, here it is. South America isn't overloaded with road signs. The paths we've had to take to get in and out of various cities have seemed like labyrinth maps. But SatNavs have positives and negatives.
The road from Mendoza toward Córdoba starts out through poplar-lined avenues between olive groves, but soon blends into the miles of semi-desert we've mentioned before. At one point the lines on the road just stopped and the road smoothly forked on left and right with no signs or markings whatever to suggest which is the "right" or "main" direction.
Outside big towns, the current generation of TomTom maps lacks detail, with only the approximate line of major roads shown. This means that sometimes it says you're a quarter of a mile left or right of the road you're actually on and need to turn left or right to get back on it. At those times it just needs to be ignored. At other times it shows the road taking a sharp left or right turn, and you do have to obey.
Fortunately, in the case of the totally-unsigned junction, the SatNav just showed a curve to the left, which I followed and didn't live to regret.
On the other hand, some hours later we reached a roundabout. The road signs pointed right, which the SatNav claimed as 2 hours and 94 miles. However, the SatNav had been pointing straight on, ten miles and ten minutes less. We thought we'd be clever and follow the SatNav rather than the road signs. Big mistake. We got into the middle of this town and there were no sings to indicate the right way out. We tried various ways and ran out of tarmac every time. We tried to go back the way we'd come and found every road to be no entry or one-way the other way. The SatNav was no help because this was one of the places where it only knew the rough path of the road and its half-mile of uncertainty covered the entire town. After half an hour banging our heads against failed options, I asked a group of taxi drivers. The only way back to where we'd come into the town was out on backstreets about half a mile to the end of some tarmac, then take a sharp right and go looking for a roundabout (which we fortunately recognised, because that wasn't signed either). We were so grateful to get back to where we should have followed signs not SatNav, having lost well over 30 minutes trying to save 10.
This road did reward us, though. Through most of the journey we'd been approaching this very long and very high ridge, starting off by heading straight for it and gradually over hours bending left to run parallel. This road headed straight for the high ridge and wound up the side. Finally it ran along the crest, offering amazing views West far out over the plain we'd crossed - wow and photos!! The road then crossed the top and wound down the far side, with views East toward Córdoba.
There was a sting in the tail. After the earler experience we had to decide we should follow road signs rather than the Sat Nav. Unfortunately, later there was a sign to Córdoba off the big road we were following (National Route 20) and onto what turned out to be C45, winding tightly over a smaller ridge between us and our destination. The roads were harder work (tough at the end of a 6-7 hour drive) but quite fun for me, although a bit dizzy-making. At the end we rejoined Ruta 20, wondering where that had gone in the meantime. Ho hum.
The SatNav took us straight to the door of our accomodation. After the experience of Los Angeles, we'd resolved to always book ahead, generally using the Booking.Com app on my iPhone. However, we couldn't find anywhere on there we liked in Córdoba. Hence we went via TripAdvisor and a quick Google to find the Costa Rivera apartments, which we'd booked by phone and ended up really liking - not flash, but everything we needed and very friendly and helpful staff.
As we'd been approaching the city, we saw a big storm in the distance but approaching. As we parked and fled inside it was grey and threatening overhead with very strong gusts. We anticipated sitting warm inside looking out at nature's turmoil. However, the weather must have expended its fury upstream, as it swiftly cleared where we were, but left what was clearly far more water than usual in the local concrete-bedded "river" the following day.
Health Update
Thanks to everyone we've spoken to since "Good Intestinal Health". I think it's only fair to provide an update on our health situation.
The bad (dreadful) tummies we acquired in La Paz gradually cleared over our week in Buenos Aires - so gradually that our planned "Romantic Interlude" didn't materialise. Since then we've been OK, with only occasional scares. Cue permuted quote "The price of ... is eternal vigilance."
Apart from that:
- My left-hand little finger has recovered from being bent back by the bouncing tyre.
- My left big-toe has recovered from being sprained in Córdoba
- My sore throat that's been hanging around for ages has nearly cleared up, but I did need to blow my nose this morning.
- Clare came down with a cold in Santiago; sore throat and temperature for 24-hours, bunged up for rather longer, pretty much OK now.
- Clare's had a few more insect bites (they LOVE her), but hasn't needed any more formal medical treatment.
- We live in hope of a quiet life.
The bad (dreadful) tummies we acquired in La Paz gradually cleared over our week in Buenos Aires - so gradually that our planned "Romantic Interlude" didn't materialise. Since then we've been OK, with only occasional scares. Cue permuted quote "The price of ... is eternal vigilance."
Apart from that:
- My left-hand little finger has recovered from being bent back by the bouncing tyre.
- My left big-toe has recovered from being sprained in Córdoba
- My sore throat that's been hanging around for ages has nearly cleared up, but I did need to blow my nose this morning.
- Clare came down with a cold in Santiago; sore throat and temperature for 24-hours, bunged up for rather longer, pretty much OK now.
- Clare's had a few more insect bites (they LOVE her), but hasn't needed any more formal medical treatment.
- We live in hope of a quiet life.
Thursday 8 March 2012
Marvellous Mendoza
After a six hour drive from Santiago, we arrived in Mendoza and first impressions were good, driving down roads with trees on each side and we also passed lovely plazas. We had booked in for one night at an apartment hotel, which was quite pricey, so certainly my expectations were fairly high. However, after checking in, we were disappointed by the room, although it was clean, it was a bit drab and was slightly smelly, although I actually think it was an air freshner of some sort, but not a particularly pleasant smell - it did not compare to the apartment we had just left in Santiago and we thought overpriced for what it was. This could have been due to the fact that in Mendoza it was just coming to the end of their wine festival and they may have increased their prices, however, not sure this was the case, it was just overpriced. Breakfast was delivered to your room, there was a time window and you chose a time within this.
However, once settled in room, we decided to go out and find somewhere to eat, as it was now early evening. We were not far from the main plaza, and how lovely it turned out to be. As it was Saturday, the place was buzzing and there was a market with stalls going right around the outside, lots of trees (in fact I have never been to a city with so many trees lining every road). The market was good, mostly jewellery, and we took time to wander round the stalls. In retrospect, I wished I had looked more closely at the jewellery and enquired about prices, but as I brought a few pieces in the silver factory in Cuzco, I felt that I probably did not need any more, but as I was only likely to be here once, I should have taken the opportunity, oh well never mind, a lesson learnt.
We then went to find a place to eat. The restaurants were all mainly in one side pedestrian road with the umbrellas we look for, and after walking up and down the road a bit, we settled on one. I love this bit of holidays, sitting outside a restaurant or bar people watching and just chilling out! I had chicken (again!) and Dave had steak and, of course, we both had wine.
We then wandered back to our hotel, having decided we would not spend a second night there. We booked into a hotel for the next night at half the price we had paid for this one. The following morning our breakfast was delivered to the room, fairly basic - orange juice, a selection of crossiants and other bread, butter/jams, coffee for Dave and hot water for me. We then packed our stuff and loaded up the car. As we could not check into the other hotel until midday, we decided to drive to the park and spend a couple of hours there. The park turned out to be stunning and as the weather was hot and sunny (at least 30 degrees) ideal to while away a few hours.
We walked to the man-made lake and it turned out that there was a rowing regatta taking place, so we stopped to watch this for a while and then continued our way around the lake. As it was Sunday, there were lots of families out and about; we even passed an outdoor aerobic class, but doing exercise in 30 degree heat was not my idea of fun! We stopped for a drink at one of the lakeside cafes on our way round the lake, such a perfect way to spend a Sunday; we spent far more time there than we thought we would because it was so lovely. However, about 3pm we decided to head to our hotel, which was not far. Our room here was much better than the previous night and, as said, half the price. We settled in and chilled out for a few hours (its a hard life) before setting out to find another restaurant to eat. The plaza was much quieter being a Sunday, but still relatively busy, we found a different restaurant and enjoyed another evening of people watching and also reminiscing about our trip so far. We have done and seen so much, that I am having trouble remembering it all, so its good to talk about it and re-live bits. Also, looking through our photos (there are a few!) brings back so many memories.
We did talk about spending another day in Mendoza, but decided to head on to Cordoba the following day. The following morning at breakfast, we looked at hotels in Cordoba and we again settled on an apartment hotel. Dave rang the hotel direct, spoke to Alicia, who spoke almost no English, and booked us a room for two nights. Dave totally underestmates how good his Spanish is - believe me its not "poco un poco" - and had the conversation with Alicia entirely in Spanish. If it was left to me, we would be very hungry and sleeping on a park bench!!!!!
I really loved Mendoza, and Dave did too, the tree lined streets, park, and plazas were lovely. The weather also helped too. Definitely a highlight for me.
However, once settled in room, we decided to go out and find somewhere to eat, as it was now early evening. We were not far from the main plaza, and how lovely it turned out to be. As it was Saturday, the place was buzzing and there was a market with stalls going right around the outside, lots of trees (in fact I have never been to a city with so many trees lining every road). The market was good, mostly jewellery, and we took time to wander round the stalls. In retrospect, I wished I had looked more closely at the jewellery and enquired about prices, but as I brought a few pieces in the silver factory in Cuzco, I felt that I probably did not need any more, but as I was only likely to be here once, I should have taken the opportunity, oh well never mind, a lesson learnt.
We then went to find a place to eat. The restaurants were all mainly in one side pedestrian road with the umbrellas we look for, and after walking up and down the road a bit, we settled on one. I love this bit of holidays, sitting outside a restaurant or bar people watching and just chilling out! I had chicken (again!) and Dave had steak and, of course, we both had wine.
We then wandered back to our hotel, having decided we would not spend a second night there. We booked into a hotel for the next night at half the price we had paid for this one. The following morning our breakfast was delivered to the room, fairly basic - orange juice, a selection of crossiants and other bread, butter/jams, coffee for Dave and hot water for me. We then packed our stuff and loaded up the car. As we could not check into the other hotel until midday, we decided to drive to the park and spend a couple of hours there. The park turned out to be stunning and as the weather was hot and sunny (at least 30 degrees) ideal to while away a few hours.
We walked to the man-made lake and it turned out that there was a rowing regatta taking place, so we stopped to watch this for a while and then continued our way around the lake. As it was Sunday, there were lots of families out and about; we even passed an outdoor aerobic class, but doing exercise in 30 degree heat was not my idea of fun! We stopped for a drink at one of the lakeside cafes on our way round the lake, such a perfect way to spend a Sunday; we spent far more time there than we thought we would because it was so lovely. However, about 3pm we decided to head to our hotel, which was not far. Our room here was much better than the previous night and, as said, half the price. We settled in and chilled out for a few hours (its a hard life) before setting out to find another restaurant to eat. The plaza was much quieter being a Sunday, but still relatively busy, we found a different restaurant and enjoyed another evening of people watching and also reminiscing about our trip so far. We have done and seen so much, that I am having trouble remembering it all, so its good to talk about it and re-live bits. Also, looking through our photos (there are a few!) brings back so many memories.
We did talk about spending another day in Mendoza, but decided to head on to Cordoba the following day. The following morning at breakfast, we looked at hotels in Cordoba and we again settled on an apartment hotel. Dave rang the hotel direct, spoke to Alicia, who spoke almost no English, and booked us a room for two nights. Dave totally underestmates how good his Spanish is - believe me its not "poco un poco" - and had the conversation with Alicia entirely in Spanish. If it was left to me, we would be very hungry and sleeping on a park bench!!!!!
I really loved Mendoza, and Dave did too, the tree lined streets, park, and plazas were lovely. The weather also helped too. Definitely a highlight for me.
Crossing the Andes
When we went west from Bariloche into Chile we did cross the Andes, but it was more snaking through valleys, really.
After working our way north to Santiago, Chile, the plan was to head east over the mountains to Mendoza, Argentina. One iPhone map app says there is no direct route and you have to go all the way south again before you can cross. That worried me when I was trying to plan originally, back in the UK. A bit more surfing revealed a regular direct coach service between the two cities, which was a relief.
The road climbs and climbs, and ends up at a series of twenty-something hairpin bends. You can see the route on Google maps. I pulled over a couple of times to take photos, with Clare urging me not to go too close to the edge or to take so long that one of the lorries labouring painfully up the mountain could pass us.
All the time I was looking out for the Chilean border controls, particularly because I didn't want any problems with the mass of paperwork covering the export/import of the hire car.
We found the last possible place, with a "Goodbye from Chile" banner just past it. We got out with our papers but some guy standing by one of the few other cars on the gravel area said this place was only for coaches and lorries, and we should go straight on. We did, but soon after, Clare asked why I'd believed him. I suppose it was a lack of signage.
We went on upward and finally into a long tunnel. Half-way through I spotted small Chilean and then Argentine plaques sticking out of the wall and I guessed that was the border.
Soon after the end of the tunnel, we stopped at a sentry post where a guy said "Welcome to Argentina" (in Spanish), gave us a stamped slip of paper with the registration of the car and number of passengers, then told us the Customs were 15 kilometers on.
By now I was sure we'd missed the Chilean controls and I would have to brazen things out.
Eventually we reached a sign pointing off the road to "Integrated Control" and this led into a hangar where car lanes passed a number of kiosks. In each, a Chilean and an Argentinian sat side by side, Immigration in the first kiosk and Customs in the second. How very sensible, if a little concerning beforehand if you're not expecting it.
During this process we acquired more stamps on the slip and finally got told we could leave the hangar.
A couple of kilometers further on, an armed soldier was stopping all vehicles. I guessed correctly that he was checking and collecting slips, to catch anyone who had driven straight past the hangar.
He asked where we were from and then proceeded to ask me about the Malvinas (Falklands) and who should own them - all in Spanish! I was slightly concerned, what with him being an armed soldier and my Spanish being skeletal - a very limited collection of gender-ignorant nouns and badly-conjugated verbs, loosely held together by luck.
Anyway, I made the "national self-determination" point as gently as possible (similarly, all in Spanish), was vague about other rights and wrongs, then suggested it was mainly about the new oil finds. We agreed that there should be a diplomatic solution rather than a new conflict. He suggested 50:50 sharing of profits from mineral resources and I didn't quibble. We parted amicably with a handshake, but they were some of the longest minutes of my life. I don't think I'll swap my computing job for one in diplomacy.
Having cleared what will be our last "officialdom" hurdle of Leg 1, we happily went on into Argentina and lunched at a near-deserted, near-desert ski resort.
We drove on through yet more spectacular huge valleys framed by mountains, and Clare nearly boiled me alive by hanging out of the window taking photographs in high-thirties temperatures. Worth it, though!
After working our way north to Santiago, Chile, the plan was to head east over the mountains to Mendoza, Argentina. One iPhone map app says there is no direct route and you have to go all the way south again before you can cross. That worried me when I was trying to plan originally, back in the UK. A bit more surfing revealed a regular direct coach service between the two cities, which was a relief.
The road climbs and climbs, and ends up at a series of twenty-something hairpin bends. You can see the route on Google maps. I pulled over a couple of times to take photos, with Clare urging me not to go too close to the edge or to take so long that one of the lorries labouring painfully up the mountain could pass us.
All the time I was looking out for the Chilean border controls, particularly because I didn't want any problems with the mass of paperwork covering the export/import of the hire car.
We found the last possible place, with a "Goodbye from Chile" banner just past it. We got out with our papers but some guy standing by one of the few other cars on the gravel area said this place was only for coaches and lorries, and we should go straight on. We did, but soon after, Clare asked why I'd believed him. I suppose it was a lack of signage.
We went on upward and finally into a long tunnel. Half-way through I spotted small Chilean and then Argentine plaques sticking out of the wall and I guessed that was the border.
Soon after the end of the tunnel, we stopped at a sentry post where a guy said "Welcome to Argentina" (in Spanish), gave us a stamped slip of paper with the registration of the car and number of passengers, then told us the Customs were 15 kilometers on.
By now I was sure we'd missed the Chilean controls and I would have to brazen things out.
Eventually we reached a sign pointing off the road to "Integrated Control" and this led into a hangar where car lanes passed a number of kiosks. In each, a Chilean and an Argentinian sat side by side, Immigration in the first kiosk and Customs in the second. How very sensible, if a little concerning beforehand if you're not expecting it.
During this process we acquired more stamps on the slip and finally got told we could leave the hangar.
A couple of kilometers further on, an armed soldier was stopping all vehicles. I guessed correctly that he was checking and collecting slips, to catch anyone who had driven straight past the hangar.
He asked where we were from and then proceeded to ask me about the Malvinas (Falklands) and who should own them - all in Spanish! I was slightly concerned, what with him being an armed soldier and my Spanish being skeletal - a very limited collection of gender-ignorant nouns and badly-conjugated verbs, loosely held together by luck.
Anyway, I made the "national self-determination" point as gently as possible (similarly, all in Spanish), was vague about other rights and wrongs, then suggested it was mainly about the new oil finds. We agreed that there should be a diplomatic solution rather than a new conflict. He suggested 50:50 sharing of profits from mineral resources and I didn't quibble. We parted amicably with a handshake, but they were some of the longest minutes of my life. I don't think I'll swap my computing job for one in diplomacy.
Having cleared what will be our last "officialdom" hurdle of Leg 1, we happily went on into Argentina and lunched at a near-deserted, near-desert ski resort.
We drove on through yet more spectacular huge valleys framed by mountains, and Clare nearly boiled me alive by hanging out of the window taking photographs in high-thirties temperatures. Worth it, though!
Wednesday 7 March 2012
Valparaiso, Santiago
After our night in Viña del Mar we left the car in the Best Western car park while we caught the metro from just outside the hotel along the front into Valparaiso. Ticketting was a bit of a faff, having to buy one "stored value" card and put one-way rides for both of us on it, then both swipe through each gate.
We quite liked Valparaiso. The centre is a manageable size and quite busy, but felt welcoming as we wandered about.
In the space of 5 minutes and 200 yards we saw 6 different armoured bank trucks, which must be bringing cash to feed the end-of-month queues we'd seen at so many banks.
The most notable features of Valparaiso are the "Escaliers" - around 16 very steep funicular railways that climb from the flat area by the ocean up to the heights close behind.
They're not easy to find. I was expecting tracks visible out in the open, like Bournemouth. No. These have obviously been there a long time and have been built round.
We followed the signs for one, missed it, and then stood right beside the sign for the next, not believing it. We were directed through a door on the side of a multi-storey building some way from the cliff, leading to a deep corridor. I thought that only an elevator could lay behind, and that wasn't what we were looking for.
Ah! The corridor led to a funicular railway track all wrapped round with buildings, completely invisible from the street. There was a turnstile where someone collected 100 Pesos (14p) before you went up and after you came down.
We went up, took photos from the top, worked out that there was no other Escalier on the same hill and came back down the same way.
Whilst in Valparaiso I tried to buy the only two "tourist" T-shirts I saw (my preferred travel souvenir), however neither was anywhere near my size, despite one being marked as XL. Chileans didn't ALL seem that small (just most).
We returned to the hotel and left for Santiago. We'd used the iPhone Booking.Com app yet again to book ahead an apartment. When we arrived, the doorman denied all knowledge, and sent me to talk to the building manager. Only after several phone calls did the doorman fish out an envelope he'd had all along, clearly marked with my name and containing the apartment key.
The apartment was in the district of Providencia - full of restaurants and bars with tables outside under umbrellas. Those umbrellas have become our marker for a good place to loll. We liked Providencia.
We didn't warm to the centre of Santiago in anything like the same way. We didn't find an awful lot to see and by the time we were ready for lunch - seeking refuge from the sweltering streets - every cafe was jammed full of locals taking their lunches.
That wasn't the real spoiler, though. Whilst reading up on Wikitravel, I'd found out that the roads we came in on were subject to electronic tolls. Local cars are all fitted with an electronic tag, but visiting cars have to buy one-day passes within a few days - either on-line, at Servipag locations or at Copec petrol stations large enough to have a Pronto store.
I tried to pay on-line, but it was insisting on having a check-letter on the end of the registration number, which our Argentine car didn't have and which we didn't have (and neither did Alamo).
There aren't petrol stations in the pedestrian heart of cities, so we tried to find Servipag. Turns out to be another bank, complete with long lunchtime and month-end queues. Having no better idea, we queued and tried to pay. No way.
I just about managed to communicate with the Hispanophone teller, who read all our car import/export paperwork (who knows why, for a one-day pass) but we got stuck again on this bloody check-letter. The teller eventually sent us on a wild-goose-chase to the wrong location (not even address) for the offices of the people who run the motorways themselves. I think that was mainly because the queue behind us were growing progressively less happy about the stupid foreigners in the way of their lunchtime banking errand.
One of them did call after me ("Gringo!") with the wallet I'd left behind in my fluster, so they hadn't lost all sympathy.
Having had our town-centre visit so overshadowed by the hand of officialdom, we gave up trying to pay the tolls for the day and potentially forever. Providencia again provided a pleasant evening meal and drinks. Santiago centre 0, Providencia 2.
After we drove out of the city the following day, heading for the border, we spotted a service station in an island between the carriageways. It turned out to be a Copec with a Pronto store and the waitress/cashier there sorted the whole toll thing in just over 5 minutes. Damn.
We quite liked Valparaiso. The centre is a manageable size and quite busy, but felt welcoming as we wandered about.
In the space of 5 minutes and 200 yards we saw 6 different armoured bank trucks, which must be bringing cash to feed the end-of-month queues we'd seen at so many banks.
The most notable features of Valparaiso are the "Escaliers" - around 16 very steep funicular railways that climb from the flat area by the ocean up to the heights close behind.
They're not easy to find. I was expecting tracks visible out in the open, like Bournemouth. No. These have obviously been there a long time and have been built round.
We followed the signs for one, missed it, and then stood right beside the sign for the next, not believing it. We were directed through a door on the side of a multi-storey building some way from the cliff, leading to a deep corridor. I thought that only an elevator could lay behind, and that wasn't what we were looking for.
Ah! The corridor led to a funicular railway track all wrapped round with buildings, completely invisible from the street. There was a turnstile where someone collected 100 Pesos (14p) before you went up and after you came down.
We went up, took photos from the top, worked out that there was no other Escalier on the same hill and came back down the same way.
Whilst in Valparaiso I tried to buy the only two "tourist" T-shirts I saw (my preferred travel souvenir), however neither was anywhere near my size, despite one being marked as XL. Chileans didn't ALL seem that small (just most).
We returned to the hotel and left for Santiago. We'd used the iPhone Booking.Com app yet again to book ahead an apartment. When we arrived, the doorman denied all knowledge, and sent me to talk to the building manager. Only after several phone calls did the doorman fish out an envelope he'd had all along, clearly marked with my name and containing the apartment key.
The apartment was in the district of Providencia - full of restaurants and bars with tables outside under umbrellas. Those umbrellas have become our marker for a good place to loll. We liked Providencia.
We didn't warm to the centre of Santiago in anything like the same way. We didn't find an awful lot to see and by the time we were ready for lunch - seeking refuge from the sweltering streets - every cafe was jammed full of locals taking their lunches.
That wasn't the real spoiler, though. Whilst reading up on Wikitravel, I'd found out that the roads we came in on were subject to electronic tolls. Local cars are all fitted with an electronic tag, but visiting cars have to buy one-day passes within a few days - either on-line, at Servipag locations or at Copec petrol stations large enough to have a Pronto store.
I tried to pay on-line, but it was insisting on having a check-letter on the end of the registration number, which our Argentine car didn't have and which we didn't have (and neither did Alamo).
There aren't petrol stations in the pedestrian heart of cities, so we tried to find Servipag. Turns out to be another bank, complete with long lunchtime and month-end queues. Having no better idea, we queued and tried to pay. No way.
I just about managed to communicate with the Hispanophone teller, who read all our car import/export paperwork (who knows why, for a one-day pass) but we got stuck again on this bloody check-letter. The teller eventually sent us on a wild-goose-chase to the wrong location (not even address) for the offices of the people who run the motorways themselves. I think that was mainly because the queue behind us were growing progressively less happy about the stupid foreigners in the way of their lunchtime banking errand.
One of them did call after me ("Gringo!") with the wallet I'd left behind in my fluster, so they hadn't lost all sympathy.
Having had our town-centre visit so overshadowed by the hand of officialdom, we gave up trying to pay the tolls for the day and potentially forever. Providencia again provided a pleasant evening meal and drinks. Santiago centre 0, Providencia 2.
After we drove out of the city the following day, heading for the border, we spotted a service station in an island between the carriageways. It turned out to be a Copec with a Pronto store and the waitress/cashier there sorted the whole toll thing in just over 5 minutes. Damn.
Thursday 1 March 2012
Views from the road
Clare's last post covered our trip across country from from Neuquen / Cipoletti (Chipolata to us) to Bariloche, since which we have crossed into Chile and looked at their lake district. This has involved many variations of landscape.
We started in semi-desert plains with the road stretching straight to a shimmering mirage at the horizon for hours on end, then rising to hills cut with a winding canyon floored by lush vegetation and river, complete with rafters and fishermen, then opening to rolling hills and wide mountains surrounding huge blue lakes.
The lake on which Barlochie sits winds off in arms stretching many miles, but the main part as seen from the town presents an attractive view of the mountains behind with colours changing throughout the day with the rapidly changing weather.
Then onward through a remote desert road with occasional views back over the lake into increasingly lush canyons rising onto the Andes.
Both Argentina and Chile site their border controls many kilometres back from the border leaving between two startlingly distinct areas. On the Argentine side a bleak waste land with many dead trees and soil apparently of pure sand, seemingly embodying the feeling of being unloved, forgotten and left at the edge. Once on the Chilean side there is soon a radical change, with dense multi coloured vegetation including two metre wide cabbage leaves and four metre tall spikes that look like a cross between fern and bamboo, growing so close you would struggle to walk through.
Having read flattering descriptions of the Chilean lake district, we were somewhat underwhelmed; the lakes are just too big. There is no picturesque view of the far shore framing the water, they just stretch away like inland seas. The most obvious roads to use run far from the lakeside and when we tried to drive closer, we were faced with 15 miles of unsealed ruts, rocks and potholes for a road, twisting steeply over each fold in the hillside.
In fact, we have seen far, far fewer gravel roads than I expected. Argentine roads are almost exclusively a long thin strip of tarmac with one lane in each direction and days spent either quite alone or waiting to overtake the next lorry. The bits of Chile we are passing through have a dual-carriageway, twin-lane-each-way spine: the Pan American Highway, Chilean Route 5, which we previously travelled on way up north in Peru.
I've been trying to find a way to sum up a comparison between Argentina and Chile. The best I have so far is a difference in consistency. The bits of Argentina we've seen have a strong resemblance to each other: similar roads, similar standards of housing and shops. Chile seems to have a far wider spread, with roads varying between the Panamerican Highway and rock-and-gravel hell, with buildings ranging from glossy towers through cookie-cutter new housing estates to dilapidated clapboard and ramshackle huts. That isn't to say it lacks charm or that we're unhappy here.
The variety is well illustrated by the three cities we've stayed in in Chile.
- Puerto Montt, a city facing the Pacific, quite busy and complicated to navigate. On the route, Clare had seen a hoarding advertising the Holiday Inn Express, and then she spotted it as we were on the verge of getting lost in the town centre. Top highlight was spotting a school of dolphins in the harbour from the whole-wall window of our 8th-floor room!
- Los Angeles was a last-minute decision after deciding to drive further than originally planned and save a day's driving later. It is very plain, probably a "working town". Mobile data wasn't available when we needed it and we were left blundering around until Clare spotted a lone place on the side of a square - one of our most "humble" stops. The room couldn't be properly secured, so we were relieved when we returned from dinner to find everything as we left it. Not a "top tip". LA's greatest claim might be the Laja Waterfalls just 20 miles north. However, everything there was so commercialised (and, early in the day, shut) that we couldn't work out how to get closer than the view from the former A5 bridge.
- Viña del Mar was a nice surprise after Los Angeles, a busy town and for a seaside town very hilly. We had been on the road for nearly 7 hours, so when Clare spotted a Best Western hotel, we decided to go for it, more expensive than we would normally go for, but it saved us driving round for another hour looking for cheaper hotels.
Once we had both showered and bathed, we went for a walk and made our way to the seafront; lovely beach and a beautiful sunset to end the day.
We started in semi-desert plains with the road stretching straight to a shimmering mirage at the horizon for hours on end, then rising to hills cut with a winding canyon floored by lush vegetation and river, complete with rafters and fishermen, then opening to rolling hills and wide mountains surrounding huge blue lakes.
The lake on which Barlochie sits winds off in arms stretching many miles, but the main part as seen from the town presents an attractive view of the mountains behind with colours changing throughout the day with the rapidly changing weather.
Then onward through a remote desert road with occasional views back over the lake into increasingly lush canyons rising onto the Andes.
Both Argentina and Chile site their border controls many kilometres back from the border leaving between two startlingly distinct areas. On the Argentine side a bleak waste land with many dead trees and soil apparently of pure sand, seemingly embodying the feeling of being unloved, forgotten and left at the edge. Once on the Chilean side there is soon a radical change, with dense multi coloured vegetation including two metre wide cabbage leaves and four metre tall spikes that look like a cross between fern and bamboo, growing so close you would struggle to walk through.
Having read flattering descriptions of the Chilean lake district, we were somewhat underwhelmed; the lakes are just too big. There is no picturesque view of the far shore framing the water, they just stretch away like inland seas. The most obvious roads to use run far from the lakeside and when we tried to drive closer, we were faced with 15 miles of unsealed ruts, rocks and potholes for a road, twisting steeply over each fold in the hillside.
In fact, we have seen far, far fewer gravel roads than I expected. Argentine roads are almost exclusively a long thin strip of tarmac with one lane in each direction and days spent either quite alone or waiting to overtake the next lorry. The bits of Chile we are passing through have a dual-carriageway, twin-lane-each-way spine: the Pan American Highway, Chilean Route 5, which we previously travelled on way up north in Peru.
I've been trying to find a way to sum up a comparison between Argentina and Chile. The best I have so far is a difference in consistency. The bits of Argentina we've seen have a strong resemblance to each other: similar roads, similar standards of housing and shops. Chile seems to have a far wider spread, with roads varying between the Panamerican Highway and rock-and-gravel hell, with buildings ranging from glossy towers through cookie-cutter new housing estates to dilapidated clapboard and ramshackle huts. That isn't to say it lacks charm or that we're unhappy here.
The variety is well illustrated by the three cities we've stayed in in Chile.
- Puerto Montt, a city facing the Pacific, quite busy and complicated to navigate. On the route, Clare had seen a hoarding advertising the Holiday Inn Express, and then she spotted it as we were on the verge of getting lost in the town centre. Top highlight was spotting a school of dolphins in the harbour from the whole-wall window of our 8th-floor room!
- Los Angeles was a last-minute decision after deciding to drive further than originally planned and save a day's driving later. It is very plain, probably a "working town". Mobile data wasn't available when we needed it and we were left blundering around until Clare spotted a lone place on the side of a square - one of our most "humble" stops. The room couldn't be properly secured, so we were relieved when we returned from dinner to find everything as we left it. Not a "top tip". LA's greatest claim might be the Laja Waterfalls just 20 miles north. However, everything there was so commercialised (and, early in the day, shut) that we couldn't work out how to get closer than the view from the former A5 bridge.
- Viña del Mar was a nice surprise after Los Angeles, a busy town and for a seaside town very hilly. We had been on the road for nearly 7 hours, so when Clare spotted a Best Western hotel, we decided to go for it, more expensive than we would normally go for, but it saved us driving round for another hour looking for cheaper hotels.
Once we had both showered and bathed, we went for a walk and made our way to the seafront; lovely beach and a beautiful sunset to end the day.
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