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Or everything block. That energy is no longer there. I decided to use the same strategy the following morning, mostly just to check if I still had it in me. An 8 AM bus after another late night at an Argentinian boliche. I fell asleep again at around 6 AM, but this time was able to wake up for my alarm. My friend that I had met in Ecuador invited me to a pub crawl on Saturday night, and not wanting to miss out on a weekend in Buenos Aires, I agreed. That night was lame, yet there I was again, meandering home at 5 in the morning. We met some Brazilians that night who lived in Buenos Aires and the following few nights were spent eating dinner at 1 AM and casually drinking until 4 or 5 AM. Needless to say, when I finally got to Bariloche, I was burnt out. I slept through the entire 2 and a half hour flight, but thankfully woke up just a few minutes before landing so I could catch a glimpse of the snow-capped mountains and stunning lakes. The airport situation was a bit of a hassle, and getting into town without the national bus pass card was proving to be difficult. I overpaid for a shuttle to the bus terminal, overpaid for a bus pass there, and then finally got on my merry way to my hostel… which happened to be another 40 minutes past the city center of Bariloche. But for the first time in a few weeks, I was feeling the joy of adventure again. I hiked my corpse of a body for an hour to catch my first sunset over the lake with some beautiful mountains in the background. I loved Buenos Aires and truly enjoyed my empanada-filled days in Cordoba, but for some reason, it all felt like business as usual. A lot of people often ask if travel ever gets dull for me. Objectively, some of my days are quite dull, though. Each day is different and whether or not you do anything particularly exciting, there is always something to enjoy about that day. I try not to compare destinations or days or cities or countries. Each day should be lived to its best, whether you spend it adventuring to the top of a mountain or sleeping for 15 hours, which I did my first night in Bariloche. I deserved that shit, yo. It is quite often as dull as riding the buses themselves. The vibe here is pretty rad, but also not what I was expecting. Bariloche feels much more like something you would find in Switzerland, Bavaria, Colorado, or Alberta. Argentina is much more European and Western than I ever expected, which is weird because it is literally like the furthest country south in South America. Same goes for Chile. I know this is just the beginning of my Patagonian adventures, and to be fair, Bariloche is one of the largest cities in Patagonia, but I was actually not expecting it to be this civilized. When fellow travelers spoke to me about camping and hitchhiking and couchsurfing, I was expecting a wide open unknown that could only be tamed by the boldest of travelers. I even ate there twice. I think there is something that turns me on about those rugged, filthy, raw, and unfiltered adventures. Bali was far too posh and comfortable and my adventure senses had almost completely shut down. I flew to Sri Lanka , the closest country that I felt could challenge me and push me far out of my comfort zone. Hanging out of packed local buses, safari-ing with the elephants and leopards, and monstrous sunrise hikes was much more my thing. Again, I am aware that this is the beginning of my Patagonian adventures. Bariloche is the gateway to Patagonia and is understandably much more modern and developed than the unchartered territories that I will be traipsing my way through. There is much, much more to be discovered. And I make this mistake time and time again. What a wonderful place, bariloche is? I love the photo of the two lakes. Looking forward to the next post. Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive. Type your email…. Continue reading. Skip to content. Share this: Twitter. Like this: Like Loading PedroL Loading Would love to go to Patagonia one day! Well for several days! Looking forward to the next post Loading Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Discover more from The Partying Traveler Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive. Type your email… Subscribe. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website.
The Patagonia Chronicles Week 1: Broke Boy in Bariloche
Bariloche buy cocaine
Belarus Practical Guide Minsk. Balaton Budapest. Macedonian Wine Ohrid Skopje. Antwerp Flanders Top-5 Destinations. Haifa vs. DMZ Zone. Bohol Manila. Cappadocia Edirne Istanbul Kars. You're welcome. Numerous scams ripping off tourists from all their savings, pollution, corruption, drugs trafficking… Also the night bus had some bad reputation of its own, as apparently sometimes the driver takes a detour to the slums to give thieves free access. No half measurements for this chick though. I brought my backpack into the bus instead of putting it in the luggage room and tied it to my body with scarfs. If those bastards would take their chances to steal it, they would basically have to drag me out of the bus with it. I fell asleep with my deodorant in one hand and my killer stiletto heel in the other, related to my plan to first spray the poison straight into the eyes of possible thieves and then eliminate them by slapping them in the nuts with my pumps straight after. When I think about it, it's almost a shame that nothing happened. As usual, when you set your expectations that low, the only thing that awaits you is a positive surprise. So when I woke up driving in the mountains and saw La Paz lying in the valley in front of me, lit up by the early sunrise, it literally took my breath away. This was absolutely the most gorgeous capital I ever saw, what a location! After I checked into a hostel I entered the dorm and witnessed 2 people having sex. I greeted them and unpacked my back while they continued. The altitude forced me into a slow morning, which I used to explore the many markets, whose tentacles expand into the entire city. Although the Bolivian kitchen seems to be notorious for its lousy deep fry, I was positively amazed by its alternatives. I never paid more than a euro for a sometimes 3-course meal, and so far my stomach never turned against me. After I watched free street theatre in front of the San Francisco church and bought some instant love potion at the witch market , I hit the bars with the sex-guy of my dorm as well as two Americans and drank the night away with some terrible Bolivian wine they do beer better. The next day I accidentally ran into a free cultural festival. Still swinging I hurried to the San Pedro prison , where a free walking tour took off. San Pedro houses prisoners and is led by 12 guards. There are different sections, based on how much money you can afford on a cell. Where my country rewards criminals with a free cell including playstation, tv and books, Bolivia let their criminals pay rent for a place in prison. Well done. In between these stabbings and liquidations a society is created, as many prisoners live in jail together with their wife and children. In between the prison walls the inmates work in restaurants, like lawyers or vendors, or the San Pedro favorite: in the cocaine business. Their wives can easily smuggle it out somewhere in their massive layer skirts, and if not they just throw it over the prison walls, no one cares. My parents can thank the free walking tour guide though, as she changed my mind with her examples of tourists getting trapped, raped and stripped of all of their belongings after which they are dropped off in Chile without a passport. Hm, maybe not. At an ever-changing location silver platters full of high purity lines are supposedly served with every drink. So I went. I gathered around some French boys and a pumped up Irish vacuum cleaner and spoke the magic words to a random cab driver…. The only sound was my own bouncing heartbeat… the mess I got myself in this time, did I test my luck too much? Doors opened, there it was: a big-pupiled bunch of nervous people hysterically giggling, attacking trenchers with endless white savannahs. After a solid night of sleep yes I tried to reach the Museo Arte Contemporaneo. In this privately owned museum the impressive paintings are actually for sale. Then I took a collectivo to another happy destination: the central cemetery. Just like at markets, I think the true culture of a country can be found at cemeteries. Your corpse get dropped into a station wagon, and upon your arrival at the church your partner will run around you screaming hysterically while your friends throw flowers. All of this accompanied by an unshaved dude with a cowboy head playing guitar straight out of the heart. Your body will disappear in one of the massive grave flats, high above the ground. Well, after I got back to the hostel safe and sound, I found yet another way to put my life at risk: The Death Road, supposedly the most deathliest road in the world. Heavily commercialized, but well worth the views is this mountain bike tour from Cumbre to Coroico straight through waterfalls and along the steepest slopes you can imagine. Prices vary widely, and being Dutch I off course choose the cheapest company Chacaltaya. I watched my poor group members, bike after bike breaking down. So I brushed the dust off, smiled and continued until the end, where I got my very own I-survived-the-Death-Road-shirt. I was thinking about staying in La Paz for 1 or 2 days max, but ended up staying a week. This service is and will remain free. Related: - Go to the Bolivia Page for more blogs! San Salvador, El Salvador - Yay or nay? Panama City
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