"Sumptuously Appointed Andean Thoroughbred"...

We got on another double-decker bus at 9:30PM out of Puerto Madryn bound for Bariloche, a city in the province of Rio Negro surrounded by beautiful lakes and mountains. It is on the eastern border of the Andes, close to the Chilean border at about S41 degrees latitude. The overnight trip took us 3/4 of the way across the continent, and as we pulled into Esquel, a mountain town a few hundred kilometers south of Bariloche, the sun began to rise. While that was happening on the east side of the bus, there was a full moon peeking out from behind the mountains on west side of the bus. Holy crap... beauty overload. So we were trying to control ourselves. I wish I had a better camera, like one of the new "smell-capture" models, but I can't complain too much about my prehistoric battle-tested Kodak DC4800, which soldiers on as the cracks in its casing deepen and lengthen.

The rest of the morning was an incredible drive through a narrow valley all the way up to Bariloche. It really reminded me of the trans-Canada from Canmore to Field. Things seem to get a little bit more open and drier close to Bariloche, but there are still plenty of mountains.

We got a cab from the bus terminal to a hostel called "41 Below", which is a really interesting building perched on a hillside (as all buildings in the area are) with many huge north-facing windows. The hostel is nominally run by a Kiwi guy and his girlfriend, but, as inveterate travellers, they are about to abandon the place for two years. They worked out an agreement with a Belgian couple who want to learn how to run a hostel, so currently 41 Below is a kind of four-headed monster. All four heads are really nice, and there were a lot of really interesting people from all over the world hanging around the place, so it was a great place to spend the night.

The next morning we set out in search of an apartment. Our only lead was a rental agency whose number came up about 25 times in the apartment rental listings. 432-000, in case you're interested. Anyway, similar to the Peyrow rental property monopoly in Montreal, the only apartments on offer were overpriced depressing crap-heaps (with beautiful lake views), so we decided to keep on looking. By this time siesta had started, and typically lasts from 1pm to about 4pm, so we were losing hope, but we decided to drift by a real estate office that we had seen earlier in the day just in case they had a furnished place available.

We met a nice agent who said that although the agency didn't have anything suitable, his basement was for rent! So we trundled up the hill in his little Peugeot and had a look at the place. It was beautiful! High ceilings, north-facing windows overlooking the lake, an indoor barbecue, high-speed internet... pale-yellow leather couches, brand new high-intensity mattress, taste-control refrigerator, auto-paste dispensers, fragrance-controlled hosiery... the list goes on and on. The panoramic picture is taken standing in the back yard.

So we decided to take it. The price was very negotiable, so we pretty much named our price, went to the bank machine, got our bags from the hostel, and took a cab to our new home! Either one of us has two horseshoes lodged somewhere, or we both have one... Anyway, every day we talk about how lucky we were to get this place, and about how lucky we are in general to be doing all of this stuff.

The only drawback to the apartment is the lack of a land telephone connection. In order to address the problem, I have begun experimentation with voice-over-IP using a service called Skype. Some of you have been lucky enough to get Skype calls already. For those of you that haven't, they go something like this:

Person in Canada: "Hello?.......HELLO???"
Neil over IP: "H--."
PiC: "HELLO???"
NoIP: "H--o, c-- -ou he-r --?"
PiC: "Neil?"
NoIP: "Y--. Is it --sy to h-ar m-?"
PiC: "What the hell is going on? Are you in a helicopter?"
NoIP: "No. Okay, now is that better? I just moved my left arm two inches to the left and closed my calculator window. Sorry about the line quality, I'm using Skype..."
PiC: "Yeah, that's better. Hmmm, Skype eh? Woooo."
NoIP: "Y--h, it's p--tty sh--ty. -y pants --e on f---."
PiC: "Your pants are on fire???"
NoIP: "Yes."

So you get the idea. The other common test of Skype quality has been rounds of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" to determine the time delay on the line. At one point I had three-quarters of CoroNéo Incorporated singing the round. The delay was about 4 minutes 34 seconds as we measured it. But now I think I have figured out how to optimize the Skype experience, so if you get a phonecall and nothing happens for about 5 seconds, it's me or Jen calling. Don't hang up. Turn off all the lights, and make sure you're facing south.

We have now fully settled in, and are planning our first multi-day trek, so the next post should be interesting. We are in training mode now, drinking wine and eating fine cheeses.