It’s wet and windy as Christi and I embark upon our tour of the Lake District. We’re doing the Seven Lakes tour (Nahuel Huapi, Espejo, Correntoso, Traful, Falkner, Villarino, and Hermoso). Our guide, Alfonso, is an interesting fellow: he’s middle-aged with dyed black shoulder length hair tied back into a ponytail. Although he can speak English, he insists upon conducting the tour in Spanish (gee, thanks). He’s wearing a turtleneck sweater, sunglasses (where’s the sun?), tight leather pants, and lots of jewelry. He looks hungover and mostly naps, but occasionally he rouses himself for a brief commentary in a sultry Latin voice. The bus driver also seems keen to keep the tourists quiet by turning the heat up to Sahara levels. Mostly we doze, therefore, and whatever beauty the Lake District has to offer is largely obscured by fog and misty rain.
The highlight of the Seven Lakes tour for Christi is not even a lake at all, but a farm-cum-café on the shores of Lake Correntoso. I think the main reason we stop is because Alfonso needs coffee and some mirror time. So while he adjusts his hair and makeup Christi and I explore the farm. We enter one field where a young lamb jumps straight into Christi’s arms. The love is instant and mutual. When the tour finally reconvenes, Christi is heartbroken (I’m not sure I’ve ever had that effect on her, incidentally). We continue on to the picturesque town of San Martin de los Andes on the shores of Lake Lacar, which is now enjoying its siesta. Alfonso and our driver disappear for 2 hours. There’s little to do but eat and then feed our leftover scraps to stray dogs as we walk around – and boy is it windy.
We take a different route back to Bariloche, which begins in rather unpromising fashion, but then the weather clears, the sun begins to shine and the dull rock formations, hills, and gorges beside the turquoise waters of the Rio Limay suddenly become quite spectacular. Alfonso only avoids mutiny by finally stopping once so that we can get out and embrace the beauty surrounding us.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale
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