We hop the bus just down the street at the stop near our apartment — at least it seems like it's a bus stop. There really is no indication, except for the bus shelter on the other side of the road and a shattered sign board. Jenn asks a lady jogging by.
"Si, si," she says panting. "Collectivo para Llao Llao."
Llao Llao is the famous hotel and municipal park further past the Cerro Campanario, so we should be fine. And a few minutes later, indeed Collectivo #20 comes along and we flag it down. It's six pesos to ride the bus here. Compared to the $1.10 in Buenos Aires, it feels like we should be sitting in first class!
Avenida Bustillo meanders all along the lake shore and is smothered with hotels, inns, B&B's, cafes and tourist shops. At this time of year, many things are closed, but one can sense the nuttiness that must occur when the summer and winter seasons are in full swing. After kilometre 20, the accommodation bonanza eases off a bit as you make your way into the Parque Llao-Lao. Cerro Campanario is on the edge at kilometre 17.5. and our kindly bus driver (who stops and picks up everyone, even if they're not at an actual bus stop) drops us right across the road from the entrance and chair lift.
Chair lift, you say? Not for us... The hike up the cerro is only 40 minutes, so we figure we can manage it. No switchbacks, however, in Argentina — it's pretty much straight up. The reward is a few good views through the trees along the way.
Just when we're getting hot and sweaty (okay, Keir is getting hot and sweaty...) we reach the summit and the viewing point. It is indeed quite a remarkable view and being a fine autumn day, we can see the mountains all around, the lakes, the park, the city, even a bit over into Chile.
We meet a number of people at the top — a couple from Buenos Aires who are vacationing in Bariloche. They speak to us only in Spanish and we do (okay, Jenn does...) a good job of conversing. "Too many robberies in Buenos Aires," they say. "Patagonia is very expensive for tourists. It's not right." And, "Have you been to Iguazu Falls? They are SPECTACULAR."
And then they offer to take a photo of the two of us. Very sweet!
We also meet a lady from San Francisco who, speaking of robberies, had just come from Buenos Aires and had her purse snatched from between her legs under a table. ID, credit cards, phone and camera all gone. We are beginning to think we were quite lucky during our two weeks in Bs. As., although, in all fairness, we were super vigilant and didn't leave many opportunities for the 'fingersmiths.'
We first encountered our San Fran friend in the 41Below hostel — the owners are also the landlords for our apartment. We swap stories about what brought us each to Argentina. Originally from England, she married a musician and moved to California, only to find herself divorced 10 years later. A sound engineer by trade, she would like to go back on the road touring with bands, but work in the music business is sparse. She is also keen to go back to England and be with her family. She's at a crossroads (oh, how we recognize that feeling) and thought a quick jaunt to Argentina to visit a friend might help sort things out. We commiserate about life's uncertainties and how it is important to just let it come, not worry too much about how or what. She is interested to hear about our adventures and what we might be planning next.
We have our lunch, enjoy the views and think... What are we planning next?
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