Back from the Wild Side

Bariloche 

The 2cv Tango - verse two:

Senorita soy ingleses

Please don't sit and stare

You can see I have a puncture, I already used the spare

But I think that we can fix it

Yes I know it's wearing through

It shouldn't be so tricky, we just need something sticky

It will last me to Peru

Well, one thing I can say with surprise, and delight - is that, in spite of loose gravel, huge potholes, rocks, and the odd branch - we have had no punctures at all! In fact, I saw no one with a problem on the Careterra, but two cars on the hard shoulder today, replacing wheels! 

The drive from Chile Chico, to Cochrane, was just incredible. About 150 miles of rough, unsurfaced, road, passing through high mountains, verdant valleys, and beside rushing rivers, whose colours defied description. The section alongside the lake was particularly impressive. There were very few barriers, and a drop of about a thousand feet, to the water, ensured total concentration! Meeting a speeding 4x4 on a blind bend, on my side (and I might have been slightly on his, as my side was where the drop was!) was a bit of a shock, but we lived to tell the tale

Cochrane was a nice place, and the lodge I stayed in had a woodburner in my room, so it was lovely and cosy. I did get stopped by the police, for driving slowly - I was looking for the way back to the lodge - so I asked them to show me where it was. Several photos later, and they were on their way 

The furthest point south that  I reached was a bizarre village - Caleta Tortel - whose main claim to fame is that it is built on boardwalks, some of which were probably constructed by our very own Prince William, as he apparently spent seven weeks here in 2007, with Operation Raleigh. I wonder what he did there for that long? I was there for two hours, including having a really dreadful lunch, and I felt I'd exhausted its charms. The fact that it was raining probably didn't help. The drive, however, was fabulous - towering trees, giant hogweed, snowy mountain tops, and hardly any traffic to frighten us

The journey north to Coyhaique was blessed with a bright, sunny, day, so I rolled the roof back, It was freezing! - so back on it went. The scenery, was - once again - stunning, and vista after glorious vista unrolled as we bashed northwards. I even christened my stove, when I made a cup of tea in a clearing. About fifty miles short of our destination, the track turned to tarmac, and - whilst this was lovely - it just didn't feel in the spirit of things. It did mean we reached the gorgeous lodge in time for a lovely cold beer though, so I wasn't really grumbling

The following day started with a lot more asphalt, which I was hating but loving, then we were plunged onto a long descent, with hairpin bends, pouring rain, and really loose gravel. How I missed that asphalt! - but not for long, as it came back, only to end at a massive landslip, and a short ferry trip. Poor Modestine nearly came to grief, thanks to me, whilst boarding the boat. I had to reverse on, and caught the back bumper on a chain. The slight bend soon disappeared when my host in Puyuhuapi grabbed it with both hands, and pulled! 

Puyuhuapi was a one-horse town - I saw the horse - but made up for it with stray dogs. There were hundreds, all vying for whatever scraps, and bin bags, they could scavenge. I had a little wooden cabin, with a fire, all to myself, and was as cosy as can be, although my lullaby was barking dogs! 

Yesterday saw Modestine and I back at the border, having finished our time on the wild side, in Chile. I will never forget it, and would like to go back to spend more time there, before the asphalt takes over, and it becomes just a road, albeit in a very beautiful part of the world

The way of life over there, is hard - the gauchos live in tiny wooden houses, scraping a living, but will their children be prepared to do that? I do hope that the inevitable change can be handled sensitively, and the inherent character of the area is not allowed to disappear, as wealthy fishermen snap up land for fishing lodges and the like. Here, in Bariloche, I've seen some real Grand Designs houses, behind manicured hedges - and they just make me want to head back onto the magical Rivendell world of the Carretera Austral