"Llao Llao stands for two gringas lost in the woods."

February 16th

   Those were the words of Hernan, one of the guys who works in our hostel here in Bariloche, a very Swiss town near the Chilean border. Today, we went "trekking" as they like to call it here. We woke up and jumped on the bus for half and hour until it dropped us off in front of one of the ritziest hotels in Argentina, Hotel Llao Llao. Presidents stay there when they visit the country. Anyone can go visit, but you need to call in advance and request a visiting time perhaps to give them enough time to complete a background check.

Anyway we stepped off the bus, our heads spinning from the curves and attempted to follow the map to a trail the Hernan recommended. Turns out my internal compass is indeed broken. I thought it was just adjusting to the new hemisphere, but I think there must be some sort of magnetic field that is messing with me because this homing pigeon has had one heck of a time following directions. Maybe it is because everywhere I have lived I have always been able to position the sun in the sky and had mountains on one side of me. In Buenos Aires I thought my lack of direction was because it was a big city and with tall buildings replacing the mountains, I could barely see the sky. However, here in the small town of Bariloche I am still all over the place, perhaps it is the fact that it is 7:30 in the evening now and it looks like Portland's 3:00pm equivalent. 

Dad, check out that Gold Course at Llao Llao

Thanks once again to Lena, we found the trail and headed up the mountain. In the hostel we met some Americans who said that the trail was tough, but for those of us who have hiked Fritz Roy and Cerro Torre it was cake, or as they say here una pápa, a potato. I think nearly everything will shrink in comparison to those mountains in Chalten. In fact, if you plan to travel to this beautiful country, I would suggest that you start in the north and make your way south as the landscape grows more majestic. 

Flowers that bloom once every 60 years

   The panoramic view from the top of the hike reminded me of home. I felt as if I were standing at the mouth of three different Columbia River Gorges. After a photo or two we headed down the road until it started to rain. No matter where I travel I encounter an unexpected rainstorm. I have hidden under pillars of the Vatican as rain poured, seen a 10 minute flash flood in Turkey, and witnesses a storm that almost drowned Venice. I thought I would have another one for today but I've got nothing more than the fact that it started to rain when we were still 3 plus miles from the bus so we found a ride back to the center of town with a nice couple we met who were vacationing from Buenos Aires. We changed and got ready for what turned out to be a spectacular dinner with friends of friends from home. Adrián and his son Axel had taken us for a drive around Bariloche a few days earlier and were our connections for a free ski lift ride up Cerro Campanario. 

His wife Maria Fernanda and daughter joined us along with two of his friends who were riding their motorcycles all the way down to Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Lena and I learned many useful words at that dinner, not all of which are necessarily PG but are definitely part of the culture. Saying bad words is not necessarily looked down upon here, it is the way that you create insults that can really tick someone off and it is all in the tone of how you say it. A greeting that is often used between two old friends can mean something quite horrific if you change the tone. We have been warned not to use it until we really understand the language. Speaking of language, this language is proving harder than I thought. To put the Spanish language into a general term is pure insanity which basically means that the title of my major: Spanish Language and Literature, is raving mad. Turns out most Argentinians can't even understand their Chilean neighbors to the West because they use completely different words for the same thing; this is true with nearly all 20+ Spanish speaking countries. You could compare this to how in the US we use different words than the Auzzies or Brits. Also, many say that Argentinian Spanish is very Italian and it's true, they sound as if they are singing. Some words draw on longer while others sounds like quick short steps of the Tango. Oh and they have an accent whenever they pronounce words with "ll" or "y." Instead of pronouncing these sounds with what sounds like the "y" in "yellow" they substiture a lovely "sh" sound, so "street" which is calle, sounds like cashe. What fun eh?

 Nicolas, our guapo gaucho guide

Agua pura

Enjoying a Submarino, Capuchino, and Lemon dessert at Mamushca

    Oh, and I forgot about Valentines Day. I must admit that it was nice being away from all the chocolate, teddy bears, hearts, and consumerism of the US on the lovely day of love. When one has a Valentine, it's great, but when one is single, eh I'll pass, thanks. Lena and I spent Valentine's Day on horseback and later went kayaking on the lake. Our very guapo gaucho led the way as our horses climbed up to a brilliant view to the water divide where the water to our right flowed to the Pacific while the water to our left was on its way to the Atlantic. About a mile out from the choral we picked up the pace which I was excited about until my foot fell out of my stirrup because they were too short and I came as close as I ever have to falling off the horse. After a delicious lunch, we kayaked for a bit, then headed back to the hostel for some late night dancing. Greg, you are right, the Argentineans really like to twirl around when they dance.

     Tomorrow we will jump on the bus at noon and arrive 24 hours later in Mar del Plata, a big beach town on the East Coast near Buenos Aires. I think we will escape to a smaller town called Villa Gesell for a few days of sun (hopefully) before starting school once again. And BOOM reality hits.