liter of beer, and began relaxing. A short glance around quickly revealed that we were not the only ones with this agreeable itinerary, and that the town is in fact full of exhausted backpackers, hippies, artisans, and university students squeezing the juice out of the last days of summer. Four days were spent enjoying the artisan/organic food market, chatting with locals, and dipping in the river before we decided to check out El Bolsóns bigger and more popular brother, Bariloche.Surrounded by a healthy spattering of lakes and mountains, Bariloche is often described as the Switzerland of South America. Although the city center is getting a bit overgrown, the stone block buildings, ice cream shops, and microbreweries lend it a very hospitable feeling. We rented bicycles the first day to tour around through the different lakes, stopping for a swim in Lopez Bay in the largest lake of Nahuel Huapi. The prices in this Swiss land of chocolate and enchantment are also rather European, so we soon decided to get out of town for a few days and climb up
some of the peaks around Nahuel Huapi. We started off from the base of the wintertime ski resort and headed up into the mountains, where we spent our first night near a beautiful alpine lake, building a rock wall around our tent so we didn´t get blown off the mountain by the powerful and sporadic wind. The second day proved to be the real test. After climbing a calm ridge we saw that the trail kept going up another ridge, this time completely covered in small loose rocks (scree) that slide you a half step back for every step forward you take. Once we reached the top we had to face the ugly fact that the way down was the same. This time at least gravity was on our side, and by risking a small amount of torn flesh we found a way to slide down the loose rock in a kind of skiing motion, an appropriate way to descend in this part of the country. We made it to the bottom and the trail turned into a beautiful verdant valley, before of course climbing up, and then back down another scree covered peak. When we finally reached the much more protected campsite we checked the clock and saw that it had taken us 8 hours to cover a mere 7km, by far our slowest day on the trail. The next morning we were delighted to find the way out was much more flat, and this time we covered 27km in 7 hours, regaining an ounce or two of our hiking confidence. With one more night of rest we snagged a 23 hour bus to the capital to finally see what all the hype was about.Buenos Aires has an uncommon duality best described as hermaphroditic. In many ways graceful and passionate, it has an undeniable dark and rough side that shows itself throughout the city.
To get to know the feminine side of the city we start at the United Nations Plaza, where an 18 ton metallic flower named Floralis Generica gracefully opens its massive hydraulic petals every morning at 8 AM. From the flower we walk through the sprawling
innercity Forests of Palermo until we reach the Recoleta Cemetery, one of the most impressive collections of intricate and audacious tombs in the world. Once inside the cemetery the movement of tourists quickly leads over to the burial site of the highly revered Eva Perón, the former wife of dictator Juan Perón and the instigator of a surprising number of humanitarian and womens rights movements. The narrow paths of the cemetery then continue through blocks of ornate tombs depicting angels and saviors watching over the deceased bodies of Argentinas celebrated revolutionary figures. After leaving the cemetery we descend into the subway to head over towards San Telmo, the heart of the tango culture. As the metal train pushes into the concrete tunnel scrawled grafiti on the walls reminds us of another powerful feminine figure, Cristina Kirchner, who has been leading the country since her husband suffered a heart attack while she was in office. The train pulls into its destination and we climb out into San Telmo to the sight of lively bars setting up for a tango show in the plaza. As the dancers firmly clasp hands and prepare themselves for the seductive encounter we can feel the petals of the flower closing in on themselves way off in the United Nations Plaza.As the night sets in we start to see the changes. A brightly painted school bus flies by with people hanging out every opening, screaming soccer chants and waving flags for Boca Junior as they head into La Bombonera for the game. The tango show is soon overrun by a
group of 15 drummers pounding out tribal sounding rythms, and eventually the dancers give up on their display. Once we can see the bottom of the pitcher of beer we get up and walk off down the block, aimlessly searching for the club with the most appeal. Only a block away we see the ´cartoneros,´ groups of neglected homeless that dig through the trash in search of discarded food and clothing. As we wander through the streets we are continually confronted by the 67 meter tall obelisk, the cities declaration of longevity and stamina after 400 years of existence. A few blocks further we reach the camp of the War Veterans of the Islas Malvinas, forgotten victims of a very well remembered war. Finally we select a dance club, and inside that door we find the masculine and feminine poles of the city mixing very unpretentiously until the early hours of the morning, when the cycle repeats.Our experience in Buenos Aires was highlighted by a few outgoing and exciting characters. The first of which was Diana, the girlfriend of our friend Yaron from
Tucson. With Dianas help we navigated the streets and felt more welcomed as we exorcised the demons in San Telmos watering holes. She also helped us with our experiment with tango dancing, where we learned how to promptly apologize after crashing into the other dancers on the floor. Our next display of hospitality came from Julio and Gabriel, a couple we had contacted through couchsurfing that gave us a roof for a few days. By ´giving us a roof´ I mean our own room in their penthouse apartment located walking distance from the center of the city. Beyond just a place to sleep, they helped us learn a bit about Buenos Aires culture, slang, and perhaps even more importantly, how to properly savor the famous Argentine asado (steak). Our 
final day even Yaron himself made an appearance, having flown all the way from Arizona just to catch us for a few hours. Or I suppose it could have been his fun loving girlfriend that helped coax him down. Before I leave I feel its only fair to mention a few of the lesser characters we encountered at our hostel during our first few nights in the city. There was Alejandro, a fast talking Argentinian with a drug habit and an excellent impression of sassy Argentinian girls. Then there was the American from Milwaukee, who we had the pleasure of sharing our 20 bed dorm with. In between cigarrettes and bottles of coke he made time to scream and have rather angry imaginary conversations with imaginary people over an imaginary briefcase that seemed to be very important. The dirty-footed-artisan-hippie was a bit harder to get to know. In the day he was little more than two blackened soles sticking out a blanket, and when he finally found his energy around midnight he kept to just singing along with loud music in the lobby of the hostel. Fortunately, Carlos from Venezuela helped prove that it was the world, and not Viviana and I, going crazy, as we shared interesting conversations about traveling and surviving in hostels such as these.Now we are pushing on north into Brazil, but not without a stop at one of the most incredible natural attractions of the world. But thats for next time...
