A trip to the Argentine supermarket

Visiting a grocery store in a foreign country, and learning the ways people eat is always one of the most enlightening experiences of a trip.

The variety of food that’s readily available, the way the grocery stores are sectioned out, the average prices... these things all translates to what people actually eat, and can teach you a lot about the life of everyday people.

After visiting quite a few grocery stores all across the country of Argentina, and talking with some of the local foodies/chefs, here are some of the things I noticed. 

More well-behaved dogs off leashes!

The first thing you notice when you visit the grocery store in Argentina is all the little dogs sitting out front, blocking the entrance, waiting for their owners.

The first time we saw this, I thought, "Maybe the dogs are strays," and "Maybe they've got nothing else to do,"  but I soon realized that almost every little dog kicking it on the curb has an owner. And that owner will eventually come out of the store, and the dog will follow them home.

Hate veggies? You're in luck 

Another thing I noticed was the lack of fresh produce or snacks in the grocery stores. That's not to say there aren't any fresh items, there are just less of them.

In many of the stores, you can get apples, bananas, and tomatoes--and in some cases you need to pick through a batch of moldy ones to get to the winners. Eggplants are sometimes available, along with carrots, and potatoes, white onions. pears, grapes, watermelon and red bell peppers. But in many places, the freshness of the produce, the quantity, and the variety are surprisingly low.

I've heard that if you spend more time in the local outdoor markets, the produce is abundant, but in a lot of the supermarkets, the veggies are scarce.

A few reasons why:

• Argentina's economy makes people hesitant to invest in 
• Argentina taxes the hell out of farmers (rather than subsidizing them) so it's tough to grow and ship crops
• Argentinians don't want vegetables anyways

Argentina doesn't snack

Another difference, is the lack of variety when it comes to snacks. At home, I can walk into a Safeway and get tons of fresh vegetables, to-go sushi and packaged fruit, a bottle of green tea, and a big deli sandwich with veggies and spreads. In Argentina, there is often a small fridge section with liquid yogurt, packaged flan and rice pudding, maybe a ham and cheese or breaded meat sandwich, to-go empanadas, and 3-5 generic cheeses and fatty meats.

Here, this isn't so much of an availability problem, I think it's more of a testament to the "2 giant meals of steak" eating schedule, and the traditional taste buds of the Argentines (a people that like their steak, their empanadas, their pastas, and that's about it.)

I won't begrudge anyone their love of simple foods, but I will say it makes putting together a nice picnic a little more difficult. While we were spoiled in France and Spain with a huge selection of interesting breads, meats, and cheeses to take for a picnic, in Argentina there is usually just jamon cocido (ham) and then some kind of pancetta or salami to go along with a slim selection of cheese. They also don't carry a lot in the way of condiments. Unless of course you want some dulce de leche. 

I'll have the cow with a side of pig

What Argentina lacks in little meats, it makes up for with a lot of big meat. Most stores have a very well stocked meat section with large sections of cow, and then lamb and/or rabbit depending on where you are. You can also get chorizo, entrails, blood sausage, and whole chickens, no problem.

You can never have too much chocolate milk

Another thing you will never run out of in Argentina is chocolate, especially the kind that is powdered, and full of artificial sweeteners. To be honest, the wall of Nesquick wasn't too surprising, as most hostels offered hot milk and powdered chocolate right along with coffee in the morning. 

Dairy shines a light on the conflict between government and farm

Finally, the way dairy is handled is fascinating, and it's another example (like the produce) of the problems Argentina currently faces. 

In Argentina, everyone drinks milk from a box that comes out of the dry goods section. It lasts for months. There is a whole section for this kind of “dairy” product at the store. 

It seems ridiculous that Argentina, which is basically one giant cow farm, drinks powdered milk. But unfortunately, there are a variety of reasons why this is the case. 

In the late 90's, Argentina was one of the top producers of milk in the world, but the economic crisis of 2001 stopped dairy production in its tracks. This problem is compounded by the government's "anti-farmer" policies. In the last 10 years, the government has added a 15 percent export tax on most dairy products, and eliminated value-added-tax refunds on exports. The inability to export, along with the fluctuating export tax rate and growing inflation made potential investors even more skittish.

Challenges remain, but the foodies always fine a way to cope

Given how hard it is to get variety for most local people, I was often surprised that the chefs (at least, the ones in more popular places like Buenos Aires, Mendoza, and Bariloche) were able to get almost anything. When we got fresh morels in Bariloche, we asked how the chef was able to get such great produce, and he told me that “he knew a guy.” 

So, I guess like anywhere else, it all comes down to who you know.

The Argentine Bikini

I guess they're a lot like Brazilian bikinis? Based on what I saw, I imagine they are a little more conservative, but then, I've never been to Brazil. 

So, just doing a little thinking out-loud about the wedgie-style or thong bikini here. I totally get the logic of hanging your butt out if you're laying out to tan. I personally hate walking around with a white ass all summer. In this respect, the thong style bikini is an awesome innovation that Americans will always be too prudish to ever adopt.

HOWEVER.

The thong bikini is not treated as a tanning suit here. And it is not worn just by the young and fabulous. For every great butt we saw strutting across the beach, there were two that were just . . . not flattered by their outfit choice. Especially since I saw women doing everything from playing soccer, to bending over to collect sea shells, to rock-climbing in suits much skimpier than the ones below. 

I guess, overall, no judgements on my part, it's cool other countries are so much less uptight about body image. I guess I just don't see these catching on at home any time soon. 

Most girls aren't going full-thong, it's more like a perma-wedgie.

Cerro Tronador vs the Circuit Chico

After a rough go in El Chalten and Puerto Madryn, we weren’t in a mood to be overly aggressive with our plans. So the fact that Bariloche was scenic and easy to navigate, and that Altuen was a beautiful, comfortable hotel with friendly hosts was a welcome change from the beautiful—but unpredictable, desolate and remote—stops in Patagonia.

Once we finished La Ruta del Sieto Lagos, there weren’t a ton of “must-see” tourist destinations in Bariloche--other than hanging out and checking the views. But Dan and I tend to be fairly aggressive travelers, so we turned our attention to the remaining spots we'd heard about outside of town--Cerro Tronador, and the Circuit Chico.

Cerro Tronador vs the Circuit Chico

Cerro Tronador is an extinct "stratovolcano" (thanks Wikipedia) that takes a full day to visit. There are over 8 black glaciers on this stratovolcano, and apparently you can hear them crack as they shift and melt. In addition to the coolness of a black glacier, there are waterfalls, mountains and rivers. Not surprisingly, this drive and visit was listed as the #1 activity for Bariloche on Trip Advisor, although, at the time of posting, it was listed as #2.

Circuit Chico is much less "wow," and much more "ahhhh." It's essentially a 70km loop that takes you past Llao Llao, the beautiful, famous hotel in Bariloche, and by some mellow rivers and lakes, a small town, and a petrified forest.

Overall, Circuit Chico seemed a little more predictable, and "on-the-beaten-path," so it was not initially my first choice, I worried as well, that since we had just driven Sieta Lagos--the end all, be all drive of Bariloche--Circuit Chico would seem like the poor man's alternative.

Why I'm glad we decided to drive Circuit Chico

I think, if we had been in Bariloche for a different portion of the trip, I would have been committed to Cerro Tronador. However, the third week in, we had learned that when something sounds easy/amazing in Argentina, there's always a catch. And it's usually not anything you learn from reading a guidebook.

It pays to have up-to-the-minute information about things happening in Argentina, because, at any moment, the weather, availability, topographical conditions, can all change. Case in point, the latest Foder's Guide had mentioned an archeological dig you could join, but when I looked into it, the project had been defunded and the archeologists were gone.

In this case, I dug into the recent social posts about Cerro Tronador, and learned that in the last few days, it hadn't been such a great place to be. For one thing, the horseflies were a big problem. (Someone posted 2 days earlier, “If it’s a cold day, you’re in luck, because the bugs are almost unbearable in the heat.”)

Secondly, I discovered that while the location is billed as black glaciers in a volcano--which sounds REALLY cool--it's literally just that, glaciers INSIDE the volcano. From the viewpoint across the lake, it's an icy black mountain next to a river. It's beautiful, but not sure if it would be worth the expense of an all day drive. Especially when you combine horseflies, the fact that the road in is 100% gravel, and that you can only get access certain times of the day.

Pretty, but not sure I want to drive all day for this. 

So, after a really close, skeptical evaluation, it seemed pretty clear that Argentina was trying to trick us again. I am sure it is an absolutely amazing place to visit, but probably not in the dead of summer, and not for our trip. 

It's not so bad "missing out" in Bariloche

I think, my take-away here, is that Bariloche is different than visiting Buenos Aires, or even some of the other Patagonia towns we passed through. It's made for relaxing.

Which is good, because when you come to Argentina you'll spend a lot of time en-route, trying to see things, waiting for busses, etc. etc. In Bariloche, if you spend too much time driving to get somewhere, you'll miss the point. So, although we felt like we were taking the lame tourist route, and reducing our adventure creds by a factor of 10, I'm not sorry we missed out on Cerro Tronador. It's always a reason to go back. 

Highlights from lazing our way around Circuit Chico

Driving La Ruta del Siete Lagos

Although the biggest thing I wanted to do in Bariloche was RELAX, the highlight of Bariloche was driving La Ruta del Siete Lagos. This is partly because we did the drive the day of our 9 year anniversary (yes, Dan and I have been together 9 years!) and partly because it was amazingly beautiful and relaxing.

La Ruta del Siete Lagos is about a 150km drive that takes you around 7 amazingly beautiful, interconnected lakes, and about 50 other bodies of water. And even though it's the busiest part of Patagonia, once you're out on the open road, there aren't a lot of people in your way.

You can drive La Ruta del Siete Lagos with a tour group, or you can hitchhike, but I think a car is really the best way to get around--especially if you want to actually take breaks and enjoy the scenery.

While Bariloche was definitely more tourist-friendly, getting a car last minute was still a bit of a struggle. Altuen offered to call for us, but it wasn't until we visited several places in town that we found a place with a car. We had a conversation about the contract in Spanish, which I understood 70% of, then blindly signed the rental papers. By 9am the following morning, we had our car and were off! 

Driving La Ruta del Siete Lagos:

The road begins in the center of town, and most people start by heading west. (We had a 7.2km head-start, due to our hotel location.)

The whole first part of the drive, wraps around Lake Hupai, a giant, empty, glassy body of water that makes Tahoe look like a swimming hole.

About 45 minutes into the drive, you arrive at Villa Angostora, a really cute little town that was hit by a volcano in 2011, and is still in the process of rebuilding. There are some great places to stop and eat, and some good breweries. (Fodor says Australis is the best brewery in Patagonia, but I wouldn't go that far.)

Once you leave Villa Angostora, you are in the heart of the drive. 7 icy blue, crystal clear, mostly connected lakes, one after the other. The lakes wrap around the road, with plenty of places to stop and admire the view, or if you have time, get out and swim.

The views were amazing, but the thing that was most shocking to me was that there was no one on the lake. Like, we saw 5 boats the entire time we were out, across 150km of highway.

Not surprisingly, the water was like glass. And really. There was NO ONE out there. While I doubt Argentina has the money to develop much of a boating culture, if you were able to get your hands on a ski-boat out there, it would be some of the best wake-boarding ever.

The drive takes you all the way to San Martin, another little town with a formalized swimming area, kayak rentals, shops, hostels, and lots of spots for food, beer and wine. 

For many people, this is the “end of the line” and you can turn around and drive back, but we had heard it was beautiful to come back the other way, on over 60km of unpaved road. 

It was. Even though we got stuck behind a really slow van for about 20km on the gravel road. 

All-in-all, I would say La Ruta del Siete Lagos is a must-do drive. Don't take the tour bus, don't try to hitchhike, rent a car and go. Your effort will be rewarded with beautiful lakes and incredibly majestic rocky landscapes that, unfortunately, I really can not do justice to with my current level of photography skills. You will just have to go and see for yourself.

Bariloche = the Swiss Alps of Argentina

After a hot, dry, “meh” experience in Puerto Madryn, I was hoping Argentina would show me something beautiful that wasn't completely exhausting. Thank God we came to Bariloche.

After an interminably long bus ride, we wanted to leave the bus station as quickly as humanly possible, and jumped into the first cab we saw.

Driving through town, I was surprised how much Bariloche reminded me of Lucerne, Switzerland. There was the amazing lake, the pretty architecture, and in the main town there were ski/skate shops, designer boutiques, fondue restaurants, hotels, breweries, and chocolate stores on every corner.

When you visit Bariloche, you can either stay in the center, which is what all the kids do who go to Bariloche for their Senior trip, or you can stay in a hotel outside of town, 5-15 miles along the main drag. I just picked the best rated modestly priced hotel, since we were getting burned out on the hostels. 

Altuen, the hotel we eventually booked 4 nights with, was 7.2 km outside of town, right off the main drag. Not only was it walking distance from some of the best restaurants in Bariloche, but there was a nearby beach, and a ton of small parillas, wine bars, hotels and B&Bs overlooking the water. The best part of all, is that the temperature couldn’t have been more than 75-80 degrees—the first temperate location of the trip!

Altuen's owners were an extremely friendly couple, who always wished us "Nice Time!" when we left for the day. Luis, the man of the house, made us little maps, and cooked us eggs every morning. I've never met someone who liked his job/house-guests more than Luis.

Paula, who must have been half Dan’s size, was absolutely adorable too. Hilariously, she insisted on carrying both Dan’s bags up the stairs herself, even though Dan physically tried to stop her. Once in the room, things just kept getting better. We had a little porch, some chairs for sitting outside, a big, decently comfortable bed, and an awesome view of the lake. 

All-in-all, our arrival in Bariloche was definitely a welcome change, and a sign that the course of the trip was finally starting to go a little bit more our way.

The foods you miss when visiting Argentina

One thing that made traveling through Argentina different than traveling through Europe is that, largely, the food was all the same.

When we were in Europe, it was nice to get variety. We had “American” food in England, sausage and currywurst in Germany, pasta and paninis in Italy, awesome everything + produce in France, avant-garde flavors and crazy meats in Spain, crusty fruity things and chocolate in Vienna, all different kinds of beer and wine. By the time we got sick of one thing, we were moving on to the next country.

This is not the case in Argentina. There is a lot of the same food everywhere we go. And spice seems to be a 4 letter word. The food is good, but it's a lot of the same.

The typical Argentine meal: giant plate of meat, seasoned with salt. To be consumed with an amber lager, or malbec.

In Bariloche and Mendoza, we finally got a bit of a break from the monotony of caramel + red wine + salt + meat, but I still craved some foods I just couldn't get. In fact, I there were some foods I wanted so badly, I finally started keeping a list.

What you miss when traveling in Argentina

(Not a 100% comprehensive list, but here are the biggies.)

• Lime
• Peppers (jalapenos, serranos, red pepper, wasabi) Really, I’d even be happy for a regular supply of black pepper on my salads
• Anything acidic/tangy
• Fresh fruit—especially berries and melons
• Sushi
• Vegetables outside of butter lettuce and white onions 
• Herbs (basil, mint, cilantro - - - oh God, I miss cilantro)
• Avocado
• Good pizza
• Sandwiches—I'd kill for some fresh bread, turkey, cheese, veggies, spreads, pickles, and peppers

Not surprisingly, first meal I made when we got back home? Limey, spicy, cilantro-packed tilapia tacos with a side of mango salsa. They weren't the best things I'd ever made, but after a month of meat, they were the best tacos on earth. 

The end of Argentina

Dan and I are back home from our month in Argentina, and I still have quite a few drafts from our time in Bariloche and Mendoza. I'll be posting what I have over the next couple of weeks, but because the feelings are still fresh, I want to start with the post I wrote the last night of our trip. We've only been home for 3 days, and already it feels like it was ages ago.

January 24th, 2014

We finally made it to our last night in Argentina. I have so much I still want to write about, and so many posts in draft form thanks to nights of drinking in Mendoza, and terrible internet most everywhere else.

I feel like I should be excited to go home, but I am starting to feel incredibly anxious about leaving Argentina. I don’t know exactly why.

Of course I could chalk it up to the "I never want vacation to end," blues, but in this case I feel like it's more than that. Part of me wonders if it's the anxiety that comes from accomplishing a goal, from knowing my Argentina trip is no longer something I can look forward to or work toward. Maybe it's just stress about all the stuff I know I need to do when I return, or the backlog waiting for me at work. Maybe it's just that I completely fell in love with South America, and am sad that--at best--this trip only explored the tip of the iceberg. 

To be honest, I had felt like something was missing through a lot of this trip. Don't get me wrong, Argentina is awesome--everyone should visit. And taking time off is awesome. And traveling with your husband is awesome. I'm lucky, and I get that. Mine are (for lack of a better term) first-world problems.

I think it's been tough to accept over the course of this trip that I am older, more attached to my life at home, and incapable of the same sense of wonder I had when I first started out as a novice to travel. 

There is something about that first time out on your own that really gets you to your core, and I think I was a little disappointed to realize that--for all my wanting it--taking a month off when you have a job and responsibilities to return to, a fairly set itinerary and timeline, and a life that is already fairly well defined, is very different than walking down the open road when nothing in your life is defined or set in stone.  

Of course I appreciate the things I have in my life now, but I also have an overly developed appreciation for the moments in time that are behind me.

What I do know, is that while I want to share some stories and photos about our time in Bariloche and Mendoza, I wanted to stop and capture how I felt as we left the last stop of our trip. All I can say is that this last month was such an incredibly memorable experience, and that these are the times of my life that matter to me the most. 

One last kick in the ass from Puerto Madryn: the bus to Bariloche

One thing that has been really hurting our budget on this trip is travel expenses. It costs a lot of money to get around Argentina in a reasonable period of time.

This was an oversight on our part, as we planned our daily budget with food, lodging, and activities in mind, and factored transportation in as an inconsequential expense. Our trip to Europe, where transportation is economical and fast, had lulled us into a false sense of security, so we came into this trip assuming we’d be able to buy flights on the fly (ha) and pay very little to hop from one place to the next.

Unfortunately, that has not been the case. For example, to get from Buenos Aires to Uruguay and back, we spent $800 USD. From Buenos Aires to El Calafate we spent about $250 USD each. From El Calafate to Puerto Madryn we spent another $225 USD each. And these are not long flights. Except for the flight from Buenos Aires to El Calafate, each flight was 45 minutes to 90 minutes long, and 180-250 USD per person, per way.

By the time we left Puerto Madryn, the price of getting around the country was starting to add up. We decided that, to get to Bariloche, the next leg of our trip, we would take the bus.

The mighty train of Argentina: Mar y Valle specializes in travel between Puerto Madryn and Bariloche 

I have been told that the bus is to Argentina as the train is to Europe, that it is cheap, and a great way to travel. This perception is boosted by all the travel writers—Fodor, Lonely Planet, etc.— who wax poetically about the ease and comfort of the bus.

Insanity = Taking the bus and assuming it won't be a terrible experience

In general, I hate taking busses. I hate how dirty they are, I hate the smell, I hate the crazies they attract, I hate the confusion of identifying the correct place to get off, pushing through people to get to the exit. I hate sitting in traffic with a bunch of people I don’t know, I hate being stuck on someone else's time table

One of the best phrases I have ever heard to describe buses is, “You can’t spell abuse without bus.” And I think that very accurately describes this mode of transportation.

But, due to our lack of cash, and also because there were no flights available, we decided to take the overnight bus from Puerto Madryn to Bariloche.

Choosing the right seats for the trip 

My biggest fear in taking the bus was that we would be super uncomfortable, and end up being awake all night. I was really excited about Bariloche, and didn't want to waste our entire first day. Most of my fear stemmed from many experiences lying awake half the night on a red-eye flight, but I hoped that with an Executive Suite--i.e. a section of seats thats lie completely flat, the bus would be a comfortable place to rest.

By the time we got our seats there were no busses with Executive Suites going to Puerto Madryn. Fortunately, the next best thing--the "Cama" seats--reclined about 90% of the way, and were supposed to be pretty comfortable too. Several other travelers we met on the road had verified this to be the case, so we thought we'd give it a try. For two people, it was about $200, so--at least half the price of buying a flight, especially on such short notice.

The seats are the best part of the overnight bus to Bariloche

The night we left Puerto Madryn, I went and picked up a small bottle of wine, and a couple of sandwiches. Everywhere I had read said to bring your own food, and all the friends we met along the way said to bring wine, so I felt like we were pretty prepared. I had heard that there was a dinner/breakfast service with cama seats, so I viewed what we were bringing as a supplement. I also suspected the quality of the food we'd get on the bus.

The journey was listed as 10 hours long, and since we left Puerto Madryn at 9:30pm, the idea was to eat the dinner we brought, watch some episodes of Newsroom on Dan's iPad, drink some wine, fall asleep, and arrive in town early to get a jump on the day. 

I was pleased to see when we got on the bus that the seats were really big, and looked comfortable. Like business class on an airplane, but with a really great ottoman feature. Unfortunately for Dan, he was a little too tall for the seats, but he has gotten fairly used to this over the years, and can usually make do in these scenarios. #Tallpeopleproblems.

As we got settled in and the bus pulled out of town, Dan got out his iPad so we could watch some TV. Suddenly, the TV in the center aisle came on, and the sounds of a loud foreign movie began blasting out of a speaker right above our heads. 

The movie was so loud it was almost comical, so when the attendant came by, we asked if it was possible to turn the sound off above our seats. He shook his head "no" and gestured at us like we should be watching the movie. It was about 10:30pm, and the movie was on so loud that we could hear it even while listening to the iPad through our headphones. I wondered if there would be movies on all night, and if there were, how we'd possibly get any sleep with the noise blaring in our ears.

Dan and I decided we would just ignore the movie above us, focus on our own show, and drink some wine, but shortly after I pulled out my bottle of wine, the attendant came by and told me to put it away. 

Because everyone had told me that drinking was an essential part of falling asleep on the bus, and made it seem like it was part of the experience, I was really confused. I had forgotten to bring cups, which resulted in me drinking out of the bottle, so I thought that maybe he was taking issue with my glass bottle.

When I got a plastic cup as part of the drink service (which came with the most disgusting, inedible tray of fake food I have ever seen....I promise I will never criticize the airlines for their food choices again) I poured myself a cup of wine and kicked back. Almost immediately the attendant came back over and said, "Are you drinking?"

I was a little embarrassed/startled, and so I said, "Well, I was earlier, but I'm not now." He then proceeded to tell me he could smell booze, that there was no alcohol allowed on the bus, and confiscated my bottle!!!! Clearly, I missed the memo that drinking on the bus is supposed to be done in secret. I also wish I had known that if you sit in the front (which I had assumed would be a quieter, more relaxing experience) someone will be coming up the stairs to "check on you" all hours of the night, and make sure you're obeying the rules of the bus.

Don't even try to poop on the bus

Around 1:30am the movie went off, we made our final stop before getting on the open, desolate road, and Dan and I tried to get some sleep. It was comfortable-ish. If you are a back sleeper, then the bus is great. If you're not, it's . . .  ok.

I had weird dreams, but got decent sleep until around 7:30am, when I awoke to "coffee service" (instant coffee with WAY too much sugar) and 'breakfast" (worse-than-gas-station pre-packaged "toast," and some pasty wafer thing.) I then tried to use the bathroom.

The bumpy, twisty road added some fun challenge to the event, along with the absurdity of this sign:

If someone wanted to break this rule, I am not sure how the bus company would stop them.

Apparently, if you are on a 10, 15, or 24 hour bus-ride in Argentina (which all exist) you better make sure you're all cleaned out before you go, because these are liquid-only trips. 

Around 8:30am, we began watching the road. Around 9:30, I started to get hungry. Although we were expecting a morning arrival, we didn't get to Bariloche until almost 12pm. And the whole time, there were no updates or alerts as to where we were in the journey. I felt a little like a dog who's been left in the car, who has no idea when or if their owner is coming back. Not fun.

When we finally pulled up to Bariloche, Dan and I tried to laugh off the evening's events, but when the tired/cranky/hungriness set in, we ended up fighting intensely about nothing, and then slept away half the day in our hotel room. Just like I feared we would. After we awoke, we immediately bought our plane tickets for Mendoza--just to make sure we would not be stuck on an overnight bus again.

The journey from Puerto Madryn to Bariloche: 926 KM, and 10-15 hours on a bus.

Overall, I get the point of the bus--it's a cheap way for people to cover long distances, and I think it's probably the way many people HAVE to travel. I feel very spoiled that I can be snarky about a means of transportation that is a luxury to many across this country. In other words, I get that I suck.

But the next time I run into someone who describes the bus as a romantic adventure, or tells me how great it is to have a glass of wine, then blissfully sleep the night away while heading to the next destination, I will seriously punch them in the face.

No me gusta Puerto Madryn

We're getting close to wrapping up our trip (lots of back-log posts to come from Bariloche and Mendoza) but I just have to say, before closing the book on Puerto Madryn, that it was my least favorite stop of the trip, and I only begrudgingly recommend it because it is a place to see animals.

While I love animals as much as the next person, I'm not sure if they were enough of a payoff for overpriced 3 hour tours, long desert drives, and sketchiest vibe of the trip. Fodor (who has incidentally proved to be a terrible South American guide . . . more on that later) described Puerto Madryn as "non-descript," but he didn't say just how much of a bummer the town is.

Puerto Madryn's got a sketchy vibe

I thought Puerto Madryn was sketchy from the moment we got ripped off on our cab ride into town (our first non-friendly, non-ethical cabbie of the trip). My impression didn't improve once we got into town. Ugly buildings, non-artistic graffiti, teenagers with babies, bored youths causing trouble, hot, tired, stray dogs, closed businesses, broken windows, and lots of other signs that say, “This isn’t an awesome place to be.”

And then, just in the 4 days we were there, a guy got his shoes stolen while we were on the seal tour, and one of the guys who worked at our hostel got mugged at the bars. So . . . not only does it look sketchy, it is sketchy.

One Sunday morning, I came out for breakfast, and our host Gaston was sitting by his computer, and I asked him how the night went. He shrugged, and said, “I think Isaac will not be at work today. I think his head is much too big."

I looked at him confusedly, and he swirled his head in loopy circles in response. Initially, I thought he was saying that Isaac was hungover, but he clarified that Isaac had actually gotten beat up. I asked how it happened, and Gaston said, “That’s what happens when you know everyone in town, and then people come for the summer, and they don’t know you. Those rock and roll bars, they are rock and roll. They rock, and then they roll.” He laughed and brushed it off, but I made a mental note to not visit the bars while in town.

Later that night, I saw Isaac preparing the shrimp BBQ, and sure enough, he had a black eye and a split lip. I asked for the story, and he said that he had gotten mugged outside of a bar. Some guys insisted on taking his wallet, he refused, so they beat him up and took it. And it was “all for 80 pesos!” (7-10 US dollars depending on the exchange rate.) 

The interesting thing, is that the locals blame it on the out-of-towners, but we'd been all over Argentina at this point, and this was the first place I legitimately kept one eye open at all times.

The drivers in Puerto Madryn will run you down without a second thought

Puerto Madryn was the worst place to be a pedestrian that we visited. The drivers here make New York or Boston drivers seem overly polite. Everyone goes a million miles an hour, cuts in front of you, cuts you off, assumes the right of way, and refuses to stop--or even look--for pedestrians.

There are also no stop signs at a lot of 4 way stops, so it’s one big game of chicken, every single time you go through an intersection. When we rented a car, it was definitely a little hairy trying to get out of town.

Funnily enough, in this case too, the locals have said, “It’s not us, it’s the visitors that come from Buenos Aires.” I have no reason to doubt this is true, but I felt like, even though the drivers were crazy in Buenos Aires, they weren’t out to kill you.

Puerto Madryn: A spot of beach in the middle of a desert

Finally, what I hated most of all about Puerto Madryn was it’s location.

I had assumed that because we were on the beach, Puerto Madryn would be more like the coastal cities I know and love. In reality, Puerto Madryn is a big gulf, surrounded by hot, dry desert, and not much else.

To get to any of the tourist points is a several hour drive, through the middle of nowhere in the blazing heat, and many of the roads are gravel. So, to get anywhere, you spend a lot of your time in the dust of some bus or truck.

When Dan and I made the drive to Punta Tumbo I found myself thinking, “this would be a great place to bury someone you had killed.” It was that vast, and desolate.

Driving down the road to visit the Penguinos.

So, in conclusion, Puerto Madryn was a necessary evil on the way to see penguins, llamas, whales, dolphins, sea lions, elephant seals, etc. etc. I don’t want to over dramatize it, but it wasn’t an enjoyable place to be.

I would say it's a reminder that when you go somewhere with a certain expectation, but have no frame of reference, you're bound to be surprised by what you get. I think if I hadn't had Monterey pictured in my head, I might have enjoyed my time here much more.

President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner continues to polarize

We've met a quite a few different people at this point, and have started to have a variety of really interesting, and in-depth conversations--which is amazing to me, given how rusty my Spanish has gotten over the last several years. 

One of the most interesting topics of conversation has been President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner (who incidentally, has been awol for the last month, in spite of power outages in Buenos Aires, and soaring inflation country-wide.)

President Cristina is an extremely polarizing figure in Argentina. 

I am always interested in the politics of a place, and the whole time we’ve been in Argentina, I’ve been trying to better understand the political and economic situation, and how I would feel if I lived here.

What I have noticed is that Argentina, like the United States, is an extremely polarized country, and probably with good reason.

Why political turbulence runs Argentina 

Since we’ve arrived in Argentina, the peso has dropped .04 in value compared to the US dollar. Since Thanksgiving, it’s lost an entire peso’s worth of value when compared to the US dollar. One dollar equaled 5.8 pesos in the middle of November--today, the official exchange rate is more like 6.8.

And then of course, there are the problems with the electricity, power, water, roads, etc. etc. And in many places, there are the inescapable signs of poverty, often right outside the nice parts of town. The government claims there are 1 million poor, but I've been told by locals that it is closer to 10 million.

These are the problems that lead people in Buenos Aires to constantly protest, and that lead people across the country to have such differing and strong views about who's to blame. So as we've gone across the country, I've tried to identify where people fall in their political view points, and what are the conditions that lead to their beliefs.

Paz believes Cristina is a source of corruption and greed 

Our first hostel host, Paz, who we formed a close relationship with over the course of several days, was our first glimpse into Argentinian politics. And she hated Cristina with a passion.

Paz thought Cristina was a “stupid woman,” that she was terribly corrupt, that she gave a lot of the country’s money to her friends, and that the only reason she was president is because she used her dead husband (who was the president prior to her) to get the sympathy vote.

Paz hated that Cristina didn’t support the Pope, and that she fought with the Mayor of Buenos Aires, who had even considered running against Cristina in a prior election.

To hear Paz talk, most of the country hated Cristina, and was just waiting for the next election when they could boot her out. She seemed to think something was brewing, which was easy to believe as we saw daily constant protests in the street over the loss of power, and drove by the shacks in some of the poorer neighborhoods.

Because Paz was a small business owner, long time Buenos Aires resident, traditional, and Catholic, I might equate her to some of the older conservative generation in America, but compared to the conservatives in America, Paz seemed liberal, so it was hard to label her the way you might label someone with a certain belief in the United States.

Pipi and Sylvia think Cristina is the tits

Our first counterpoint to Paz was Pipi and Sylvia, the couple we met in El Chalten. They were about 55 years old, lived in a province outside of Buenos Aires, and were unapologetically in love with Cristina.

Upon asking about Cristina, Pipi said--in one of the few English phrases he could utter, “She is a BEAUTIFUL woman!” He and Sylvia thought she was intelligent, helpful to the people, and just plain wonderful. In fact, Sylvia and Pipi thought that the only people opposed to Cristina were the snobs in Buenos Aires, who were obsessed with the mayor.

At first, I wondered if I had more in common with Pipi and Sylvia at first. They loved rock and roll, liberal literature, and were very concerned about the danger of illegal abortions in Argentina. They believed education should be free, were appalled when they heard about my student loans, and thought “Obamacare" was great. As far as religion goes, they proudly told us, ‘Creo solo en el Amor!” (I believe only in Love).

On the other hand, Pipi and Sylvia had no interest in travel outside of Argentina, found the city—and especially the Recoleta, where Paz lived, to be snobby and terrible, and were interested only in good food, rock music, and the countryside.

Pablo: "Cristina gives money to killers"

We met Pablo in Puerto Madryn during our tour of the estancia. Pablo was a younger guy who worked on a ranch outside of town. He liked the Simpsons, American Dad, Family Guy, and watched a LOT of terrible US TV (like Two and a Half Men.)

Pablo was our driver to go visit the elephant seals, so we spent the entire day with him, and gained a pretty good rapport. Over a lunch of choripan, I asked him what he thought of Cristina, and I quickly realized I had definitely hit a hot button.

For about 20 minutes, all Pablo could say was how stupid, how corrupt, how terrible Cristina was. So, it seemed that he shared the view of Paz. Except for, unlike Paz, who was most upset about Cristina’s lack of moral integrity, this kid was furious that “Cristina takes all the money and gives it to people who are doing nothing,” adding, “I pay for people to live who will kill me in the streets.”

We told Pablo that we were surprised to see such different—and passionate—view points across Argentina, and he said, “the only people who like Cristina have been abducted by aliens.” He also told us that if he was flying a plane and Cristina was on it, he thought that maybe he would crash it.

So, after 3 wildly varying view points—the middle-aged, single, established, small-business owner from Buenos Aires, the older hippie, free-love couple from the suburbs, and a red-neck country kid, all that is clear is that Argentina is just as divided as the US. And while that the subject of politics elicits extremely passionate responses, everyone seems very open and willing to discuss their point of view, and educate the foreigners on the "right" way to view the situation.

Puerto Madryn: It's all about the animals

Our last day in Puerto Madryn, upon the recommendations of our Australian friends (the same twosome that joined us for the bike ride of death) we took a jeep ride out to Punta Nifas with a ranch hand from a local estancia. The idea of the tour, of course, was to get out of town, and see some more animals!

The cost for a day out of the city was 950 pesos each (which is a high price to pay) but seemed to be the going rate for activities here. (One more reason I haven't really enjoyed Puerto Madryn.)

After about 90 minutes on the mostly gravel road, we arrived at the ranch.

Patagonia is so big that it's common for ranches to be hundreds of thousands of acres large. 

The very first thing we did--and probably the highlight of the day for me, was visit the elephant seals.

Apparently, if we had come one or two months earlier, the beach would have been FULL of them, but at the high point of Argentinian summer, there were only a few. 

To get close without bothering/scaring/pissing off the seals, we slide down the beach on our butts/shimmied. I got my last clean outfit completely trashed in the process, but, that wasn't the top concern on my mind.

One observation after watching these animals for 45 minutes--it would be incredibly easily to outrun an elephant seal. 

While the elephant seals were extremely cool, there was wild life everywhere. Foxes, rabbits, birds of all kinds, and big herds of sheep and cattle. And while I love exotic animals, even seeing the animal life on a ranch is interesting to me.

For example, when our truck startled a giant group of sheep, I learned that sheep can RUN.

Sheep sprinting across the desert at the approach of our car.

Even the lizards are pretty cool. 

After an awesome lunch of choripan on the ranch, and some spirited political conversation with our guide, we headed back out for penguins--the bird I will never get sick of.

All-in-all, this was another overpriced tour to see less animals than I expected (which seems to be the theme of Puerto Madryn). Although this was an easy way to see animals, I am SO glad we made the trek to Punto Tumbo on our own. While I felt a little bit non-plussed, in a city where we felt a little lost, I think the best option was to find as many opportunities as possible to get close to the animals. So, with that, I think we made the most of our last day in town.

Punta Tombo Penguins do not disappoint

So far on this trip, I've done a lot of complaining about things not going the way I planned, whether its due to misguided expectations, or unfortunate weather conditions.

But, I am happy to say, the penguins of Punto Tombo were as AWESOME as I hoped they would be.

This was a huge relief because the penguins were a major reason we came to Puerto Madryn, so there was a lot of pressure on those penguins to perform.

The view of Puerto Madryn from the edge of town. Not super appealing without draws like penguins.

The day Dan and I went to Punto Tumbo, we rented a car to make the 2.5 hour drive. We wanted to get an early start, but of course, we were unable to pick up the car till 11am. (Apparently that's just how car rentals work around here.)

Interestingly enough, when we said we wanted to go to Punto Tumbo, the owner of our hostel, an Irish/Spanish guy named Gaston, acted very "meh" about the activity, as if he thought we were taking an unnecessarily long drive just to see some birds. I would have been concerned that we were making another misinformed detour, but I had read in the Fodor's guide that Puerto Madryn locals like bash the nearby areas, and their advice should be taken with a grain of salt. Not sure why this is the case, but I'll back Fodor up that it's true.

In any case, I'm glad we ignored his advice, because Punto Tombo was awesome! 

What is Punto Tumbo?

You'll know you've arrived when you see the sign.

Punto Tumbo is one of the few places in the world you can go to see thousands and thousands of penguins, walking free, preening, and being completely awesome.

Map of all the places you can find penguins in the world.

Between September and April, Punto Tumbo is taken over by thousands of Magellanic penguins that come to this site to lay/hatch eggs, teach babies to hunt and swim, and prep for migration. Puerto Tumbo is the largest penguin colony in South America, and it's really incredible to see so many of these adorable birds in their natural environment.

You can't go up and pet them, or go down to the shore where the bulk of them hang out, but there is about a 3km walk way that winds you through the dunes and coast where the penguins build their nests, so you get up close and personal with plenty of mothers, fathers, and babies. 

You even see some other animals along the way, like guanacos, rheas, and if you're lucky, pumas.

A couple of guanacos strolling down the street.

One of my favorite things I learned about penguins, is that they are incredibly loving parents! They find a partner, mate for life, and split feeding/caring for the babies right down the middle. Each parent takes turns going out to the ocean, getting food, and coming back to feed. 

Another cool thing about penguins is that, while they are absolutely hilarious on land, they are impressively awesome in the water. They're almost like little ducks in tuxedos, but even faster, better swimmers underwater.

Wobbly on land, but a totally different animal in the water.

I could have spent all day at Punto Tumbo, if it had not been 95+ outside, but it was definitely a good 3 hour side trip (plus 2 hours each way on the road.) Long drive through the desert, but totally worth it.

Loberia de Punta Lobo by sea: swimming with sea lions

I am fairly adventurous when it comes to animals. This is one reason I was so down to try the Lobo Larson “swim with sea lions” tour in Puerto Madryn.

This tour was ranked EXTREMELY highly (#1) on TripAdvisor for the Puerto Madryn area, and it sounded like a very very cool thing to do--especially since I am obsessed with cute animals. Dan and I are not strangers to snorkeling, and have been lucky enough to swim with both black-tipped sharks, and humpback whales while on our honeymoon in Tahiti.

While both of those experiences were amazing, I was out-of-my-mind excited to swim with the sea lions, who had been billed as, the "puppies of the sea." 

Super enticing image of the tour from the provider's website. 

We get into our gear, and head to Punta Lobo

We bought our tickets the day before, and were told this was a 3 hour tour--2 hours of prep, travel, and training, 1 hour of swimming with the sea lions.

The beginning of the tour consisted of the basics. How do you wear a 7mm thick wetsuit? How do you turn around or swim in said wetsuit? How do you avoid scaring the sea lions away, etc.

After the training in the water, the 8 of us in our group boated over to Punta Lobo. I was still very excited to see the sea lions at this point, but I wasn't digging how the wetsuit had converted me from a capable swimmer into a helpless buoy.

Also, I kind of had to pee at this point, and it didn't feel right to pee in a rented wetsuit.

Me and Dan in the boat's cabin on the way to Punta Lobo. Still pretty stoked to be visiitng the sea lions.

Sea lions are nothing at all like puppies

Based on the training infomercial, and everything I saw on the website, I was expecting to interact with an army of adorable baby sea lions, ready for love and kisses.

This was not exactly what happened.

Remember how, earlier in the day we were enthralled while watching the male sea lions fight on the beach? Well, the tour took us back to the same beach. So, the "cute sea lions" we were going to swim with were 800 lb alpha males. Somehow, I had the info in advance to know that this would be the case, but I had not connected the dots. Or I had chosen to block out reality, in pursuit of my baby sea lion dream.

Anyways, as we sat in the boat, waiting for our turn to get in the water, I started questioning what we were doing on this tour. The males were not cute and adorable. They were about 9 feet long, and the best word I could use to describe them was "hulking."

They did not swim up to you playfully, steal your snorkel and amuse you with their silly baby antics. They swam underneath you and snuck up on you like a watery version of Batman. 

Over the course of an hour, we got within feet of at least 7 or 8 big alpha males. And I can tell you, as cool as it was to see these animals close up, I would not have wanted them to come any closer.

At one point, one of the big males swam about 3 or 4 feet underneath me, and we made dead-on eye contact. I had expected the eyes of the sea lion to be warm and expressive, but his were cold and fishy. He stared at me blankly, right in the face. It was a mental picture I won’t soon forget.

Turns out, it's hard to corral 8 bad swimmers in wetsuits 

It was absolutely awesome (in the truest sense of that word) to see these giant animals alongside us, no matter how different the fantasy was from reality, but I think I would have enjoyed the experience a little more if it weren’t for the completely chaotic nature of our tour group.

Our guide, to his defense, was leading a half English, half Spanish group, and with all of us in our wetsuits, we were hard to tell apart, so I think he forgot who spoke which language. For example, at one point, I was standing on a rock, and our guide moved me aside, and said something I could only understand half of. What I thought he said was, “Don’t stand on the rock or the male will think you’re on his territory” - - which is absolutely terrifying, that I could accidentally start a turf war with one of these beasts. But before I could clarify, he had moved on, and I was left unsure whether my actions were rude, destructive, or dangerous.

In addition to the language gap, there were 2 other diving groups out there that day, the water was choppy, and there was a lot of wind. With all those factors combined, I could barely hear a word that was said. I’d get fragments of instructions, which only served to scare the hell out of me.

We also had some swimmers that weren’t so strong in the group, and as we learned before the tour, if we don’t stay together in a block, the animals leave. It was really hard to drag the group together, so we spent the 60 minutes in the water, basically trying to get our group in a straight line, instead of looking at the animals. 

One of the males pops up to say "hello"

When we finally returned to the boat, I felt disappointed, relieved, tired. And I REALLY had to pee, all at the same time. I hoped--at least--we got some good pictures. (Eh.)

The most dangerous part of the tour occurs on land

As we headed back to shore, I tried to put the experience into context in my brain. I felt like we wasted about $200, but while I was disappointed, I was also relieved. 

About half-way back, the boat pulled up on the shore, and we were told, "Get out. The truck is here."

Since we had not yet been in a truck, I was confused why we were being kicked out of the boat, and ushered to a truck. But, this was the option to get home.

Our driver, an absolute lunatic, drove about 120 km an hour over the dirt road, passing people on blind turns, swerving over the gravel, and just generally being a total asshole. I held on for my life in the back seat, thinking how, if we were on an English tour, I would make some joke about the driver trying to kill us to get him to slow down. I didn't really have words for those kind of jokes in Spanish, so I just held on.

We finally arrived back to the snorkel shop, and I finally got to pee. Best moment of the tour. 

I think, if I were in Puerto Madryn again during baby season, I would give this another try. But, although I can check "swim with sea lions" off the list, I would say this was not the experience I was expecting . . . once again, Argentina adventure tours prove just a little bit too "real" for my tastes.

Loberia de Punta Loma by bike

Our first night in Puerto Madryn, we decided to have dinner at our hostel, which we don't normally do, but neither one of us had the energy or desire to stroll around Puerto Madryn at night. As I said before, it had sort of a sketchy vibe. Plus, we were tired from a late night, an early morning, and a day of traveling (which included an incredibly sketchy 1-hour taxi ride--which we were overcharged for--with a heavy smoker through the vast, empty desert.) 

Fortunately, our hostel was a pretty friendly place, with a good BBQ one night, and a good shrimp cook-out the next.

At the BBQ, Dan and I met a really cool Australian couple, Kathryn and Brad, who were planning to bike to Loberia de Punta Lomo the following morning to see the sea lions, who come to Puerto Madryn every year to mate, have their babies, and teach them to swim.

After wasting so much time in El Chalten, I was really anxious to have full days of exploring in Puerto Madryn, so even though we had booked a 2pm tour with Lobo Larsen to swim with the sea lions (which I was extremely extremely excited about) I thought it would be fun to get out on a bike to see them first.

Argentinian activities continue to be more extreme than they need to be

I think most people that know me would say, while I like to get out and move around, I am not an "extreme sports" fan. I love to burn calories, use my muscles, be outdoors, and I can be pretty competitive, but there are no sport activities I like to do enough to justify a broken leg.

On the bike ride to Punta Lomo, a broken leg wasn't the concern, but heat stroke--or suicide--was. Punta Lomo was a 12km bike ride away, and while we heard the road was unpaved, we heard it was still a "nice time." 

No one had told us the 12km bike ride was a rocky, sandy, hilly, Iraq-esq stretch of road, that takes you through the middle of the desert. 

After about 20 minutes of riding, it became clear that:

1. Sand and dirt are exhausting to peddle through, especially when it's blazing hot, with no cover or shade in sight
2. If we popped a tired, we'd be screwed
3. It's harder to ride through rocks and dust when you're on a slight grade 
4. My bike was definitely broken--as in, changing gears was next to impossible 

After a pretty painful 90 minutes, we made it to the lookout. Coming from San Francisco, I have to say that seeing the sea lions aren't a new thing for me, but it was really cool to see the sea lions in a natural environment. (And if you don't live in San Francisco, and don't see these animals regularly, this is worth a visit. Except, maybe you'd want to drive.)

What was really cool was that, while we were there, the animals were pretty active, and there were about 5 big males fighting for the right to mate. That was a sight to see. Lots of growling and roaring, just like lions.

The overlook was cool, but in the back of my mind, I knew we would eventually have to go back, and I was not looking forward to the 90 minute ride back through the sand. 

As we were leaving the preserve, I asked the ranger if I could fill up my water bottle in her sink. I think she took pity on us because she gave me a completely new, freezing cold bottle of water. 

I wish I could say the ride back was better, as it was downhill, but the wind was so strong in our faces it still felt like peddling uphill. Plus, we had a boat tour to make, so we pretty much had to peddle as fast as we could.

By the time we got back, with about 45 minutes spare before our snorkel tour, Dan and i fell into the nearest lunchery, and devoured 2 BBQ hamburgers, 2 Stellas, and a giant plate of fries before heading off to our snorkel trip.

Dan enjoying some lunch after a ridiculous ride. 

On to Puerto Madryn

After 4 days of terrible weather, we left El Chalten on a bright, sunny morning (of course) and went back to El Calafate, where we spent one night basking in the glow of the internet, and hanging out at America del Sur, before catching our flight to Puerto Madryn.

Puerto Madryn--which is pronounced, Puerto MAH-drin--is a 24 hour bus ride from El Calafate, which bizarrely equals a one hour flight. I think the time discrepancy is because the roads are so terrible, and because busses move about 30 miles an hour the entire trip. Google says it's about 16 hours away, so who knows. 

Google map image of El Calafate to Puerto Madryn

I have to say, my first impressions of Puerto Madryn were not super positive. Mostly because I thought Puerto Madryn would be like Monterey, or Carmel, when in reality, it was more like any sketchy, junky beach town you might find in the US. 

But we weren't in town for the town itself, we were in town to see the animals.

Puerto Madryn is the jumping off point for Punto Tombo (the penguin colony) sea lions and elephant seals, dolphins, and if you're there from May-December, whales!

So, while the town itself wasn’t anything to write home about, I still viewed our arrival with optimism, hoping we’d get up close and personal with some of the animals I was so excited to see. 

Last Look: El Chalten

It's remote, windy, cold, and technologically impaired, but El Chalten was one of my favorite stops on the trip, and one of the places I hope to come back to--if only so I can finally see the Fitz Roy or Cerro Torre. 

5 Things you didn't know about El Chalten

1. The internet is next to obselete

As a child of the internet age, of course I have to start with this. There “is internet” and all the places in town advertise that they have wifi, but this is false advertising. If you are expecting US wifi, you will be disappointed.

In El Chalten, it takes several minutes to load a page, and the wifi crashes constantly. At times, it felt like we were going back 30 years.

This was especially problematic as we tried to book a flight, and then confirm that the flight was booked. Dan tried to use Priceline to buy a flight, and after pushing “purchase,” there was a 10 minute period where we had no idea whether the flight was actually purchased. Since there were only 7 seats left on the flight (and the only other option was a 24 hour bus ride) we were very anxious to get the flight.

We later saw a confirmation page, but never received any confirmation email, and couldn’t use Skype to make a call to figure out if we had actually bought the tickets. We finally had to email Nick to get him to take care of it from home.

2.     El Chalten doesn’t have enough power to support the town

Because El Chalten is so remote, and so new, it really doesn’t have the infrastructure to support the people that visit during “high season.” This doesn't just apply to internet, it also applies to electricity. 

Our first night in El Chalten, we spent 40 minutes without power. We were sitting in our room watching spanish South Park, and suddenly, everything went off, and battery-power generators came on. We were pretty surprised.

Fortunately, this is such common occurrence during high season that our hotel was prepared with flashlights, candles, and emergency battery-powered lights. We went down to the lobby to see everyone sitting around, drinking wine in the dark, as if everything was normal.

3.    El Chalten is younger than you

Part of the reason the infrastructure is so bad in El Chalten is that the town didn’t even exist until about 28 years ago, when Argentina got involved in a dispute with Chile about the location of the border.

Because El Chalten is way up in the mountains, it’s tough to draw a line where one country ends, and the next country begins. To stop Chile from claiming the territory, Argentina put up some buildings in 1985, and built an information center for people visiting the park. Within 7-8 years, about 6 families had come to settle in the town.

Today, El Chalten is still relatively empty but rapidly growing (from 40 locals in the 90’s to about 1500 today) and because of this, the power, sewage lines, internet, etc, are regularly pushed beyond capacity.

4.     El Chalten is in the middle of NOWHERE

It takes 3 hours by bus to get from El Calafate to El Chalten, and about 6-7 hours to get to the next city in Chile. It is REMOTE. I think El Chalten was the first place on this trip that I started realizing just how big, remote, and spread out Argentina is. 

5.     El Chalten is a great place to have a beer

If you are going to be stuck in El Chalten, let’s hope you enjoy craft brews. Because there are a lot of them, and they are delicious! 

Good times in our last night in El Chalten

So far, my two favorite places in El Chalten are La Cerveceria, and La Vineria. La Cerveceria makes this amazingly creamy pilsner and bock in the back of its bar, and has great food, including an Argentinian meat stew called Locre. To. Die. For.

If I ever get around to opening a restaurant in the states, I'd potentially consider basing it off of this restaurant.

La Vineria is an adorable little enoteca, with wine and beer from all parts of Patagonia and around the country, and things you'd never be able to buy in the states, like cured boar meat. 

The only bummer about these being my favorite places in town, is that Dan can’t drink. (He is still dealing with his soul-crushing gastritis.)

Fortunately, he can still appreciate good food, which there is a lot of here.

I was resigned to the fact that food and wine may be the highlight of Patagonia, so on our last night in town, there was a break in the weather, and we decided to walk across town to El Muro, which we had heard was amazing. On the way, we passed a hostel/farm, where they were feeding their baby sheep. SQUEEEEEEEEE!

ABOVE: My other dream in life, if I never own a restaurant, is to own a farm, with a cow named Milkbones, a dog named Pickles, and a pig named Hamlet.

After getting our fill of adorable sheep, we continued on our way for dinner.

(It was sad--and ironic--that we immediately passed a guy tossing dead, skinned, ready-to-eat, full lamb bodies into the back of his truck. He smiled at us and said, “Want some lamb?”)

When we got to El Muro, the place was packed, which is always a good indicator that it is good food. We were told to wait about 25 minutes for our seat, so we stood by the entrance, and looked at the menu, which had items like sweet-and-sour lamb ribs, lamb lasagna, lamb stew (do you notice there is a lamb theme?)

As we waited, an older couple (maybe our parents’ age?) came through the door. We made some small talk, but as they spoke nothing but Spanish, I did a lot of the talking. However, I was surprised/impressed to see Dan was picking up some of the language, and joining in on the conversation when he could.

And then something happened that rarely happens in America. The hostess told us that if we wanted to sit sooner, we should share a table with this couple. 

Dan and I are both pretty social, so we decided to join up with them. And I am so glad we did, because this couple was hysterical.

Their names were Sylvia and Pipi, and they both spoke very little English. Pipi related to everything in terms of American classic rock. (Everything was either a line from a Beatles song, or a reference to a Stevie Ray Von, Rolling Stones, Mick Jagger.) And he had the heaviest accent when pronouncing these band names, it usually took 2-3 times for Dan and I to figure out what in the heck he was saying.

We shared a bottle of wine, and talked about everything from politics, to religion, to abortion, to Argentina (which was really impressive considering it was all in Spanish) and Dan actually got in on the conversation when he could, although he said by the end of the night, everything was a blur.

Dan hugging our new buddies at La Vineria. Who says you need a common language to be friends?

After dinner, the 4 of us walked to La Vineria, where Pipi and Sylvia downed 2 two-liter bottles of Heineken, and introduced us to all the staff they had befriended. I think we didn’t make it back to the hostel until about 1am. I will probably never forget Sylvia walking down the street, a bit buzzed at this point, yelling at the sky, "Las estrellas! Estrellas!" (stars). In El Chalten, you can see the Milky Way, which is not possible in San Francisco, so I was pretty damned stoked about the stars too.

It was so interesting to get their take on life in Argentina (which I’ll share more about later) and this was a good reminder that the nature and the “sights” are only half the reason you take trips like this.

Interacting with the people of a place, and letting the random things--like feeding baby sheep--happen, is one of the biggest benefits of traveling, and is where you make the most memories. So, I think El Chalten ended on a high note, and I felt content—or at least, 95% content—as we pulled out on the AM train.

Although, as luck would have it, the sun came out, and the sky looked beautiful as we pulled away.

Why our plans changed on the road in Patagonia

I mostly write this post for someone planning a trip to Patagonia, so they get a sense of what logistics will make an enjoyable trip. For us, I didn't guess 100% correct, but after making some changes to our schedule, I am happy about the way we spent our time. (Of course, I'd be a lot happier if the rain hadn't screwed with our daily plans.)

Originally, I had planned for about 10 days in Patagonia—2 nights in El Calafate, 2 nights in El Chalten, 2 in Puerto Natales, and then 4 in Puerto Madryn.

After leaving El Calafate for El Chalten, I started realizing we would need to rethink this itinerary.

On a map, and from what I had read, I thought it would be 2-4 hours on a bus to get to the close destinations, and about 10 hours to Puerto Madryn. But in reality, the bus ride from El Calafate to El Chalten (which looks really close on a map!) takes anywhere from 3-4 hours, depending on weather conditions.

And to get to Puerto Natales, Chile, we would need to go back through El Calafate, and then spend an additional 3-4 hours on a bus to get to Chile. That's a lot of travel for 4 days.

Finally, Puerto Madryn, which we assumed was a simple overnight bus, was 24 hours with a couple stopovers. Because of this, we booked a last minute flight. I want to get the "travel by bus" experience, but I have my limits. And, I think 10 hours on a bus is about my limit. 

The most important thing to note, is that travel is much more difficult here, in the sense that you can’t just “up and go.” And, travel days tend to be just that—full days. Not only because the distances are large, but because there are frequent delays, and plans change.

So, for us, that meant it was too aggressive to include Puerto Natales into our itinerary, so we decided to split the difference between El Calfate and El Chalten. 

Wind and rain in El Chalten

When I first heard that it was going to rain in El Chalten I thought, “This isn’t a horrible place to be caught in the rain.” The town was small enough to walk around, we were only there 2 nights, and we actually had booked a nice hotel for the El Chalten leg of the trip. At the worst, I thought I could look at pretty views, blog, and enjoy the room.

Little did I know that we’d end up staying 2 extra days, that we’d switch to a much more rustic hostel on the other side of town, that "wind and rain" was constant and intense, and—most importantly—that there would be little-to-no internet.

What on earth do you do in the rain with no internet? Seriously!

Another thing I’ve realized since arriving in El Chalten is that 99% of the things you can do in El Chalten involve being outside. Not a lot of indoor activities—or, as I mentioned, internet—to be found.

Even in the dead of summer, dramatic displays of wind and rain are common in much of Patagonia, but especially in the southern part of the region. Wind is the mainstay of El Chalten, and there are even shirts in all the shops that say, “Hace viento—mucho, mucho viento” (which just about sums up our experience. An insane amount of wind, all day long.) And when you go to the hostels, almost everyone lives and dies by Wind Guru, a site I never had any reason to know about until we arrived here.

The really bad thing about the bad weather in El Chalten, was that—when it’s bad, it’s really BAD. I already talked about the scarring experience on Viedma Glacier, but even going out to get dinner was a bit of a nightmare.

The town was so small that you can walk everywhere, but this also means there are no taxis to be found. (We finally saw one driving by on our way out of town, but I have no idea how people got in touch with him. For us, dinner meant a 10 minute walk in the dark, with rain and 30mph wind gusts. I felt like I was right back on that damn glacier.

At this point, the weather forced us to make a change to our itinerary. We were supposed to spend 2 nights in El Chalten, and then take a 6-8 hour bus trip to Puerto Natales, Chile for 2 nights, but because the weather was so bad, and we had barely seen anything in our one day in El Chalten, we decided to skip this detour, and extend our stay another 2 nights. It just felt like we were spending a lot of time on the bus, and we hoped that, by staying put, our luck would change.

From everything I read, I was expecting El Chalten to be like Tahoe in the summer—but this is Patagonia, and everything is a lot more extreme than anywhere you’ve been before. So, there’s really no way of knowing how the weather is going to go, you could get snow in the summer, and 50mph gusts of wind out of the blue.

I imagine we were not the only people who came all the way down here this summer to be stuck inside. But then, we saw people trucking up the mountain with 50+ lbs of camping gear in the middle of the storm, so maybe that means Dan and I are just wimps.

The view from inside, where we spent a lot of our time in El Chalten.