Making Strep Throat Fun ...

... or, our time in Bariloche, Argentina.

We arrived in Bariloche which is smack dab in the middle of the lakes district of Argentina – a region chock full of big and little lakes. We got to our hotel – a cute little hotel near the center of town, which we planned on staying a few nights before heading up to go backpacking to some refugios in the nearby mountains.

(Bariloche is a long skinny town along the shores of a huge lake called Lago Nahuel Huapi.)

First order of business: celebrating. We went to a nice restaurant and got a really good bottle of malbec. Mmmmm. Blake ordered cerdo – pork loin. Yum! Rebecca ordered what she thought was scallops but instead was veal scallopini which she doesn’t eat … whoops.

Day 2: While we were having some beers at a little bar near the lake, a cute little street dog wandered up to Rebecca… and promptly lifted his leg and peed on her messenger bag. Next order of business: laundry.

After having been spending our time backpacking and on the chacra (farm) in El Hoyo we had lots of little errands we needed to run – mailing off packages, new sneakers for Blake, brand new sunglasses that we didn’t REALLY need … real exciting stuff. But Bariloche was a great, though really touristy, place to do them (and touristy made it a lot easier to find things we need.)

While we were wandering around town a large march came through town demanding better pay for teachers. Since then we’ve seen more marches for teacher pay. With inflation far outpacing wages, many in Argentina are being hit really hard – and in a profession like teaching where the salaries are already low, the result is bad. We met a really nice woman who was marching who explained the issue to us.

(Teacher’s march for better wages.)

Bariloche was beautiful in the mornings and evenings and downright hot in the middle of the day. And they definitely love their siesta there – very few stores were open from 2pm to 5pm. So we found ourselves taking our own ‘vacation siestas’ back to our hotel to read or nap, after long mornings of doing nothing important.

A highlight of our forays out into Bariloche was Victor, a genial man who worked at “Don Quesote” a local fancy cheese shop. The minute he found out we were Americans he bluntly asked, “Obama, que pasó?” (Obama, what happened?) And he proceeded to offer up his opinion on how little Obama seems to have done – a common perspective among Argentinians. He especially thought that Obama needed to take a stronger approach in Iran. “Bush is an ogre, inhuman,” but Obama needs to get some cajones. It was our first lively political debate, in Spanish. We had been curious how Obama is being perceived. This was before the healthcare bill passed. Though most people we met don’t seem to quite grasp the importance of the healthcare bill since they take for granted that healthcare is affordable and accessible to everyone. A family of two pays in the vicinity of 125 pesos a month for health coverage. We told someone that we have been forced to pay $800 a month for Cobra since I left my job because we have no other way to get healthcare and their jaw dropped through the floor in disbelief.

Speaking of healthcare, we were very relieved that our doctor sent us away with some Cipro, because after apparently celebrating a little too hard, Blake came down with strep. Again. Despite no longer having tonsils, strep manages to rear its ugly head every year or so. So instead of heading off for 5 days of backpacking, we got to know the inside of our hotel room very well.

Once the worst was over, we had to come to terms with the fact that there would be no backpacking – or even hiking—in our near future. We had already bought our bus tickets up to Cordoba for the following Friday. So, we decided to rent a car and go car camping up to see some of the lakes and drive along the “routa de lose siete lagos” (the seven lakes drive).

(Ahh. Getting out of town.)

(Maté is serious business here and so gas stations, we discovered, have machines specifically to dispense maté water to drivers.)

(“Dedos de dios” (fingers of God). The drive out of Bariloche was spectacular – full of amazing rock formations.)

(We soon veered off the main road onto a compacted dirt road for several hours until we reached the little town of Villa Traful located right along Lago Traful.)

(Mama and baby chicks everywhere! I am such a sucker for baby animals – it’s a good thing I don’t live in the countryside.)

We found a really nice full service campground. During the height of the season we imagined that the place might have felt overrun, but now, in early fall, it felt very spacious and we had an entire area of the campgrounds all to ourselves – right on the lake.

(Our campsite. Clean showers, lights, picnic tables. I guess it was sort of KOA like, but cuter – and in Argentina, making it somehow nicer.)

(Rebecca taking a moment for reflection during sunset, at the edge of the lake right near our campsite.)

(More driving. A beautiful, beautiful big blue sky.)

(Cool double-decker bus that totally blended in with its surroundings.)

(BELOW: Some of the lakes... and our new sunglasses.)

One thing we loved about our drive was the street signs. Before every hill, up or down and no matter how unsteep, was a sign. The car seeming to careen uphill seemed particularly unlikely.

As was the palm tree shown blowing over in a landscape conspicuously void of trees.

But it was the falling rock signs we liked most. Every single sign was different, literally. And there were A LOT of falling rock signs along the drive. Each sign was, apparently, tailored to the circumstances of the falling rocks – whether coming from the right or the left, from really high up or not too high, steep or not steep, and even the size of the likely falling rocks themselves. We began to wonder if this was one of President Kirchner’s anti-recession initiatives or something – employing artists to make custom rock falling signs.

(Perhaps not the brightest move, to spend our time parked right next to falling rock signs…)

Back in Bariloche we took Marty’s advice to find Hostel 1004, located in an unlikely location on the 10th floor of one of the tallest buildings in town.

(The view from the balcony of Hostel 1004.)

We also discovered our favorite, hands down, empanada restaurant so far on this trip.

And this ...

Next stop: Cordóba. The second largest city in Argentina, located in the top, middle of the country. We’ve been hearing great things about the city. It’s full of universities and language schools.

(Thumbs up the 180 degree view at the top front of our double decker busride to Cordóba. 22 hours straight with no stops and seats that fold down somewhat flattish. Well, not really, but better than a regular bus.)

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Goodbye Farm. Hello Horses.

Our last few days at the farm were amazing and we seriously considered drastically changing our plans and staying there for a few more weeks. We spent Saturday at the market pawning our puppies, and Sunday hanging out at the farm reading. By late in the afternoon, the four of us (Rose, Abby, Rebecca, and me) were even feeling slightly stir-crazy without the structure of morning work and shared meals that happen on the week days. So we decided a blackberry expedition was in order. Buckets in hand, we strolled down the street in search of the huge ripe blackberries we had all seen in bushes along the side of the road. Within an hour we had picked half a bucket full … enough for a gigantic blackberry pie.

(BELOW: Strolling down the road in search of some berries. Blake with the stash. Rebecca showcasing the pie.)

As many of you know, Rebecca has been studying the book “Wild Fermentation” and has spent the last year devoted to harvesting her own sourdough starters and making sauerkraut using all kinds of vegetable combinations. We had noticed that little cabbages (a varietal about the size of softballs and the shape of round mangos) were looking pretty darn ripe and so Rebecca asked Josephine if she’d like her to leave a bottle of freshly made sauerkraut for them to enjoy while we are gone (it takes about 3 weeks for the kraut to pickle).

As part of our Spanish lessons with Viviana, Rebecca had just written out the full recipe for sauerkraut in Spanish for Viviana (a mutually beneficial assignment). Rebecca can now rattle off the names for carrots, beets, cabbage, parsnips, celery root, and a whole host of other vegetables that can be used in sauerkraut. I’m about 75% there. It has had the major added benefit of taking much of the guesswork out of ordering meals in restaurants.

Josephine liked the idea so much that she made it Rebecca’s morning work to make sauerkraut with Rose. They picked the veggies, chopped them up (far more labor intensive without the cuisinart), salted them (3 tbs. of salt per 7 lbs. of veggies) and put them in an unsealed jar to ferment.

(Rebecca behind her sauerkraut, with Josephine and Rose.)

That same morning Blake and Abby joined Fabio to get manure from some of the surrounding farms to bring back for fertilizer. We first went to their friend Bequi’s place to shovel some chicken manure into the back of the truck. Then to another house down the street to get some sheep manure. Back at Chacra Millalen, Abby and I began shoveling the manure out of the truck into a pile next to their compost pile. Not once … but twice … Abby managed to shovel manure out of the truck bed and directly onto Fabio’s head. I’m sure it is moments like these that they must wonder whether it really is easier to have volunteers from the WWOOF network. But, other than a half-joking mean look, Fabio took it in stride. Abby, if you're reading this, I just had to get in one last jab, it was so funny ;)

Our last morning on the farm, we decided to take a horseback riding trip with their friend Bequí (same Bequí as above). Bequí is short for Bernabe. He raises horses and has about 40 at the moment. His handwritten note explaining the different tours he offers for folks staying on the farm had been enticing us all week. His tours ranged anywhere from 4 hours up to a nearby lake to 5 or 6 days. We only had a half day to play with, to catch our bus to Bariloche at 6pm. So we joined up with another couple, John and Jessie who had just arrived at the farm the day before, for a trip up to Lago Patriada, nestled in the hills surrounding the valley.

Bequí met us at the farm with his own beautiful white stallion and brought over our four horses: “Tractorcito” for Rebecca, “Blumentópf” for me, and “Lola” and “Patón” for Jessie and John. They were amazing horses – incredibly well trained and fun to ride (except for a minor ongoing feud between Lola and Patón).

(First stop, looking out over the valley of El Hoyo.)

(Bequí is one of the most jovial, friendly people we have ever met – and he definitely has the quintessential Argentine countryside look going on.)

(Another view of the Valley – middle left is about where the farm is. Josephine and Fabio bought their farm 25 years ago – when they were both in their mid-20s. Josephine, from Switzerland, had been traveling in Brazil where she met Fabio’s brother. He invited her to come stay with his family in Argentina. The rest is history.)

(Blumentópf, which I believe is the german word for flower pot, and Tractorcito.)

To get to the lake, we went up through beautiful forested areas along paths just big enough for us. Cantoring through the forest was amazing. We reached the lake, and Beckí quickly made a fire to boil up some maté water, John and Blake dove in the lake, and we all lounged around on the beach. It was a totally gorgeous day and we were wishing that we had signed up for a multiple day trip!

(BELOW: The edge of the lake, Blake taking a swim, Rebecca, Beckí, Jessie, and John on the beach drinking maté. Traditionally, when a cup of mate is made, it is shared with everyone.)

We got back to the farm, quickly showered and changed, said our goodbyes, and then hopped in a cab to the bus station. We got to the bus station a little early and so I went over to check the internet to see if there was any word yet from UCSF. Ever since March 1st (the day they were supposed to have sent out the letters) I had been periodically calling and emailing Corina to see if anything had come yet. She very sweetly started sending me an email after the mail came each day letting me know “nothing yet.” Finally! I got the email from UCSF – giving us the whole 3 hour bus ride to begin making our plans for STAYING in the bay area (yay!) and for what we would do to celebrate that evening.

We are still missing the farm. These are some photos of what we miss most.

(Below: Abbie and rose picking tomatos, crates and crates of heirloom tomates … in March!, Tola guarding the house, Josephine and Fabio, picking elderberries for jam, watching butternut squashes flower even as we got to eat the very first squash of the season, fresh kale from the garden, beautiful flowers…)

(BELOW: … and, El Jefe, the cutest kitten ever … next to Scarlet of course.)

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