Marci Soifer

When I last wrote, we were just getting settled in Bariloche, and all we knew about this place was that it is the land of beautiful mountains, sparkling lakes, colder weather, and traveling Israelis celebrating Passover. It has now been one week since our arrival in Bariloche, and I still think those features pretty much sum up this place. Mollie and I have been relaxing a lot here...allowing ourselves to loose afternoons wandering through the small streets, sitting lakeside, or working on a rediculous song that we have been writing (maybe I will share another time). We have become regulars at a particular local bar (well, sort of) and spent hours hanging out with and creating sporadic dance parties with the employees of our hostel. We even know a bit about bus routes and which chocolate store (this city is famous for the chocolate) and which chocolate treats are our favorite in town. We have really fallen in love with Bariloche.

On Saturday, we ventured out of the city to the nearby El Bolson. This city is described as, "Argentina's closest semblance to Berkley, CA", and we could see why. We brought our cheese and matzah for a picnic, and hung out in the enormous grassy park in the center of the city. This park is lined on weekends by a humungous art fair, which reminded me of the Ann Arbor or East Lansing art fairs. Tons of vendors selling woodwork, patchwork, tiles, paintings, pottery, journals, chocolate, toys, knit goods, a food court (although in the Michigan art fairs, I would struggle to find matte, the Argentine tea with frequency equivilent to American cappucino or latte). Mollie and I patrolled the market for a while, making a few rounds back and forth. We did each find a few trinkets that are small, remind us of Patagonia (or what we have seen so far), and considered worthy enough to add weight to our backpacks. And, after enjoying the market, we rotated back to the grassy comfort. The park in El Bolson sits in the center of a valley, deep between rocky, golden red mountains, and lined with vast greenery (and of course, snow caps). It was warm and sunny for us, and writing in journals and relaxing in the heat was (a welcome surprise) made even more enjoyable as we people watched. The citizens of El Bolson really do resemble those of Berkeley, or some parts of Ann Arbor, for that matter. Argentines in hemp, with dread locks, and patchwork clothing...backpackers who look like they have been living in their posted tent on the city's edge for at least a year...and children who are clearly fed homeopathic remedies and yoga for their runny noses. I loved it.

Sunday was Easter, which meant that the Argentine travelers who were filling the streets (and crowding the line at the chocolate store) went home. And, we enjoyed a local overlook point, a short bus ride outside of town. In this place, we could see literally all the lakes and mountain peaks in a concentrated area on the region. Sure, we took the chair lift up, which Mollie was not so into, and we went up with another group of inquiring Israelis...making them the 100th group of Israelis to talk to us and become shocked to hear that North American Jews know anything about Israel, care about it, and can even speak some Hebrew. But, in general it was great. We loved the views, and honestly, we love the Israelis too.

On Monday, we decided to get up early and head out to a nearby peak which was supposed to have one of the more difficult hikes and most beautiful views. The hike is called Lopez, and while it was a challenging, steep route, we went together...and it was just us. Slowly, we ascended, over rocks, hills, through tall trees, and tall bamboo(like) shrubbery. When we began the hike, it was a little cloudy, and it seemed like a sloud that hung above us in a thin sheet. As we got higher and higher on the mountain, we found that the cloud was indeed a thin layer...a border to the sky. We were able to catch breathtaking views behind us of the majestic lakes, brightly colored fall foliage, and complementing mountains...all in the distance. And, once we passed through the cloud layer, we marveled at the fluffy, flat nature of this blanket. It dissapated, luckily, because we did not want it to remain once we reached the top, and three hours in, we sat at the highest point on the trail and soaked in the breathtaking view. Some matzah and cheese (and a little jam this time) later, and of course, time with nose and pen in my journal, and Mollie and I began our descent. It was one of those days of hiking when you are genuinely grateful for the place and the opportunity to spend time there, because you are really taking time to soak it all in. I am not sure I have done that always.

But, all good things must come to an end, and Bariloche is no exception. We have swapped email addresses with our new Israeli friends, and done some laundry. It is raining here, which means that it is time to move on. Today, Mollie and I will board a 30 hour bus ride to El Calafate, which a city much, much further south. This is the real essence of Patagonia, from what we hear. So, we will purchase our long underwear and go, before the city shuts down for winter in a few days. It should be an adventure. But, I guess it already was one.