The Universe Had Other Plans.
Day 39 – Blocked Roads, Black Ice, and Blind Faith.
Some days feel like a motivational poster come to life, you know, the one that says, “If there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Well, today was that day.I had the perfect plan: a glacier, a waterfall, and, because this is Patagonia, and lakes are practically part of the air,
a few shimmering bodies of water for good measure.
But the Universe apparently had other plans… or maybe just a sense of humour.
Our first destination? Blocked. Police on the road. A cheerful officer explained that a religious procession would last until 5 p.m. Google Maps shrugged (metaphorically) and showed no other way through. When we asked if there was any alternative, she smiled and said, “Take the old road.”
What’s the “old road,” you ask? Excellent question. We still don’t know.
We followed it anyway, through abandoned ski resorts, empty dirt roads, and a growing suspicion that we’d wandered into a Patagonia version of The Twilight Zone. Eventually, we accepted that the Universe might have wanted us to “go with the flow.” Only problem? Our new plan also needed the same blocked road.
But since we’re both famously stubborn, we dug into our inner Indiana Joneses, found another (longer, dustier) route, and, 90 minutes later, finally reached the entrance to the park. Victory!
Except… nope. The waterfall we wanted was only open before 9:30 a.m. or after 4:00 p.m.
The glacier, on the other hand, was open only until 4:00 p.m., and once you entered, you couldn’t leave. Basically, Hotel California in hiking boots.
Still, we were determined. We drove 40 km of dirt road, “eating dust” behind every car in Patagonia, and made it to the base of the so-called Black Glacier…
or what’s left of it. It’s shrinking fast, a sobering reminder of climate change, but still stunningly beautiful.
With hours to kill before the gate reopened, we had lunch overlooking the view, no rush, no crowds, just silence and scenery.
Then someone mentioned another waterfall nearby, “not as impressive as the big one.”
Challenge accepted.
And let me tell you, if that wasn’t impressive, I can’t imagine what is. It was mesmerising, pure, meditative power. I could’ve stayed there all day.
At 4:00 sharp, the gates opened, and a caravan of dusty cars (us included) rolled out in a brown cloud of glory. But we weren’t done yet.
While everyone else turned back, we, the brave, the foolish, the curious, continued 18 km further to the “promised” cascades.
And oh, were they worth it. Roaring, radiant, wrapped in rainbows, the perfect finale to a day that proved, once again, that if there’s a will (and a working GPS),
there’s always a way.
Tomorrow’s our last day in Bariloche, who knows what adventure the Universe has in store next? Stay tuned.
Day 40 – Forty Days, Lost Condors, Found Chocolate.
There’s something magical about 40 days. It took me 40 days to walk the Camino de Compostela. According to the New Testament,
Jesus spent 40 days in the desert being tempted by the devil, and the Israelites wandered for 40 years before finding the Promised Land.
Now, I’m not comparing us to Jesus, Moses, or the Israelites (we don’t even have sandals that sturdy), but let’s face it,
40 days on the road does do something to you.
It was our last day in Bariloche, and I had planned a light, joyful day: a ride on the Teleférico up Cerro Otto (just 300 meters from our lodge!),
a visit to Piedra del Cóndor where condors supposedly soar, and, most importantly. a stop at Rapanui, the legendary chocolate temple of Bariloche.
Because, honestly, Bariloche isn’t Bariloche if you haven’t tasted chocolate.
We took the morning slow, ready to stroll those 300 meters to the Teleférico, only to discover (after checking the schedule last minute) that
it was closed for the entire month of November. 🤦♀️
Okay, fine. On to Plan B: Piedra del Cóndor! Except… when we got there, we realised we’d already been in that area yesterday, and that
“Piedra del Cóndor” was not a scenic lookout but a street name in a ski resort town. So much for soaring condors.
Turns out, the ever-wise AI travel guides had completely made that up.
At this point, we just laughed and said our new motto: “Next!”
Next was a couple of short, easy hikes around a nearby lake. “Easy,” they said. “Gentle,” they said. Lies.
The first part was lovely, I even channelled my inner child, balancing on fallen trees like a wannabe forest nymph, until I remembered that my balance
isn’t quite what it used to be. 🤷♀️
Then came the uphill. The relentless uphill. The sign said 800 meters; my lungs swore it was at least two kilometres. The climb wasn’t the problem;
it was the thought of coming down that terrified me. But, with Yoni as my patient, “Knight in Hiking Armour,” we made it to the top. And wow…
the view was worth every huff and puff.
Going down? Also successful. No ankles were harmed in the making of this adventure. My reward: the magical Cascada de los Duendes,
the “Elves’ Cascade”, which felt like something straight out of a fairytale.
After that, lunch was well-earned. We decided to treat ourselves to a real restaurant before heading to Rapanui for the grand finale: chocolate ice cream and truffles. Except… Google (our not-so-trusty companion) revealed that Rapanui closed at 1:00. It was already 2.
Cue despair. 😩
Then… redemption! We discovered there was another Rapanui at the airport, open until 9 p.m. Since we had to drop off the car there anyway,
the chocolate gods had spoken.
That night, I savoured my Mendoza wine with those divine chocolates, and I swear it was the perfect farewell to Bariloche.
Tomorrow, we cross back into Chile, this time by ferry and buses. See you on the other side, in Puerto Varas, Chile’s answer to Bariloche!
