Bariloche in the Andes

If I'm to use one word to describe Bariloche, I'm going to use "Colourful", and you will see why.

Bariloche is this quaint city in the Andes about half way down Argentina, in northern Patagonia. It models itself on a Swiss Alpine town - right down to the ski chalets and the high quality chocolate it produces. It is chockablock full of adventure sports - rafting, kitesurfing and paragliding, as well as a world class climbing area. So what did I do?

Nothing.

Well, that's not quite true - I did loads of chilling out. But I did no adventure sports. How strange for me.

 

I walked up the mountain to the climbing area, to see what I could have done. It looked amazing. But that was just an exploratory walk - I intended to come back another day to do some climbing. But I never did. I had a variety of excuses - my insurance had run out, I didn't have a helmet, I didn't have my own gear - though in truth, these wouldn't stop me climbing if I really wanted to climb. The truth is, that I enjoy climbing with people who I know. Climbing's not just about the climbing - it's about spending the day with someone in a nice environment. And it's the same with any adventure sport. Though many of them have moments of isolation - they're generally sociable activities.

So I spent my time in Bariloche being sociable. I stayed in this organic hostel outside of the city. There were six of us there - the same six for all of the time. And we just enjoyed being with each other - working in the house and garden, cooking, dancing, chatting. There was also a trapezium in the house. I've never played on one of these before - it's brilliant. It's almost impossible not to swing on it every time you walk past it.

We went out to fish at sunset one night. The lake and its surroundings are beautiful at the best of times. At sunset, you get such a tirade of colours that your mind almost melts in to the background. It was the night before full moon, and it started to rise as the sun was going down, making a beautiful shimmering reflection over lake. My fishing was as successful as always - nada. 

We decided to walk part way up a mountain behind the city to watch the rising of the full moon the next night. Pachamama had other plans. She hid the moon behind some clouds, forcing us to watch an incomprehensible display of light and colours created by sunset and lightning, not revealing the full power of the moon until a few hours later when the clouds parted for a while. I'm not exaggerating when I say that almost every house in South America has at least one dog. So in a city of 100,000 people, it wouldn't surprise me if there are also 100,000 dogs. And I swear that we could hear almost every one of them yapping away as we were sat upon this hillside watching the full moon rise.

One night, I was heading to a bar 7km out of town. As I got to the bus stop, it was such a beautiful evening that I decided to walk. Ten minutes after I started it began to rain. Then it began to rain heavily. I was in the mood to walk, so I walked on regardless. It was the first time I had walked this part of the lake. I had some great views of the lake, rippled by the rain yet still with glimmerings of sunshine in places. I also got a chance to look more closely at some of the chalets along the lakeside. Mostly made with wood and stone, with big windows overlooking the lake. That’s the way to build. Anyway, I got to the pub, and they were playing The Beatles all night long. Plus, they had great ales on tap so I kind of felt like I was back in England. Ay, the nostalgia. In all of my travels, I've only been to two places with good beer. Medellin in Colombia had a microbrewery; and here in Bariloche there are loads of microbreweries, all producing nice ales in a variety of shades. I don't want to leave the pub.

Say no to the megaminería

I find South America to be a mixture of extremes. There tends to be a lot of litter and general pollution - including of the water ways. Yet, at the same time, the people are very politically active and go to great lengths to protect their water in particular. We saw this in Peru when a Canadian company had just been given some mining rights. Locals all over the country closed down the main roads until the decision was overturned. They've learned from experience that mining destroys their water resources.

Bolivia had mass protests ten years ago when their water industry was privatised, until the privatisation was reversed.

Something similar is happening in Argentina right now. Every week anti mining marches are taking place all across the country. This stems from some recent controversy about the government wanting to open up a new large mine. For the government it makes sense - it will bring in money to the country. However, for the locals it will destroy their land and water. "Water is worth more than gold" the placards say. But it’s not just the locals of this one mine who are protesting - it's the whole country. Is there a plan for a mine in this area - I asked as I marched along with the protestors in Bariloche. No - they responded - and we want to make sure it stays that way, that's why we protest.