Bariloche, The Beginning

Go to Bariloche, get a good night sleep in a bed, and head to the lakes for a couple weeks of camping. That was the plan.

We found a hostel as we walked into town. Cheap, small, and cozy, the owners were two brothers from Bariloche, Jorge and Ivan. Over the next couple of weeks Jorge and Ivan's place became less of a hostel and more of a friend's house. The circumstances of our travels were ever changing, as I will soon relate, and we passed through their establishment quite a bit during our time in Bariloche.

It looked as if rain was to come. We couldn't cross the river where we intented to set up camp in bad weather, and a couple of nights in a proper bed was a tempting offer. We would have to wait until the weekend to head back into the wilderness.

Bariloche is the tourist trap that we had expected. With the exception of going into town for supplies, we spent the days in the hostel. There was a small backyard with a cabin where the four week old puppy, Coco, lived. Every night after dinner we retired to the cabin, us, the brothers, and the multitude of Israelis that came and went. Alcohol filled our bellies and music filled our ears until sleep called us to our beds.