3El Bolson. Hippies settled here years ago. Over time, the settlement has grown into the town it is today. Full of hippies, I don´t believe that one could live here if they did not share that sort of mind-set, whether or not they look like a hippy on the outside or not. So what does a hippy look like? Well sir, thats a damn good question, but if anyone heard the basic, blunt description I don´t think anyone would be attracted. Dirty, dreads and/or other strange or rediculous hairstyles, loose colourful clothing, piercings or tattoos, sandals, long fingernails, funny way of talking, a certain shine in eyes. I think the last description noted is the most key, the majority of the people who live in this town have this shine. All of the people are very nice, relaxed, interested. The atmosphere is something else. I would stay here for a life-time, just be immersed in the atmosphere. A word we english westerners would call ¨chill¨, except to a whole other degree. Upon stepping into the town it was not evidently noted that I was not stepping into a different world (like some have described). ¨Oh Man Its Like Stepping Back Into The 70´s Man¨. I was not hit with a 70´s feel, yet I was not living to experience the 70´s. I have hardly seen any law enforcement here in the town and when I have they have stood in groups of 3 or 4 and minded their own business. 3 or 4 days a week ¨LA FERRIA¨ happens. La Ferria is a artesania market which occupies the semi-circular main plaza of the town. Here, around the outside, lining both sides of the street, are little kiosks, side by side, full of hippies selling their works. The amounts of things they sell here is immense. Bracelets, Bags, Jewelry, Drug Parifanalia, Musical Instruments, Chocolates, Beers, Local Foods, Breads, Cheeses, Art, Woodworkings. This street of kiosks is always full of people. The streets around it are full of parked cars. Everyone comes to check out whats new in the Ferria. It is an awesome feeling. In the plaza lay people on the green grass, eating, drinking, smoking under the numerous trees´ shade. In the middel of this grass lies a sizeable man-made pond, oval shaped, with people in paddleboats peddling over the blue waters, chatting of a warm cup of Mate. I stopped at one place to look over the wares displayed. A tall, white man with a beard and dreadlocks going in all directions jumped up and immediately began to practice his english with me (which was quite good). I told him I was from Canada and he said with a joyous smile, that he was from ¨here!¨. We proceeded to talk about how the states were putting in a large oil line through Canada down into the southern states. He talked about it with dislike, obviously towards the americans. I myself, suprised that he even knew that it was taking place, told him of what little I knew of the story. He agreed with my dislike towards the american, and asked asked ¨Canada is much like Argentina isn´t it¨ with honesty I assured him that it was in many ways, and this is the truth. After this conversation ended the hippy proceeded to solicite me drugs. What a good town, and what a good market they have! As I left La Ferria I saw a few groups of law enforcement calmly minding their own business, fantastic!
The nights in El Bolson are quite lively. The sun goes down here at around 10 o clock at night, I never eat no earlier than 9 o clock, simply because it does not feel late, then all of a sudden it is 11! Many people sit and hang out in the main plaza and play music in the respective groups, the subtle scent of marijuana smoke often present. Other night, small concerts play and groups of people come out and dance with their boyfriends or children. Everyone stays out late, even young kids of 10 years old can be seen walking around at midnight. I can´t imagine crime takes place in this town very often.
I spent most of my time in El Bolson with Argentinians. Upon arrival I had no idea where to go, I went to a travel agent and they wrote down a place which was close, proved to be very nice and was full of argentinians, mainly women. Argentina is said to be one of the more beautiful populaces of the world. It has been interesting to see how the people have changed from country to country, personality and physical features combined. The attest for their fame, Agentinians have been the most stunning, both men and women. I was a gringo surrounded by Argentinians, thus I got a fair bit of attention. During this time is holidays throughout most of south america I believe. Thus I am meeting a lot of Argentinians travelling during this time. I have seen more argentinians than foreigners if that says anything. I have hardly heard any english in the last few weeks yet seen far more people travelling with tents and camping equipment. Opportunity to camp is much greater here than anywhere that I have been. A good way to save money, which I had been getting better at doing. I have begun to wash my own clothes, make my own food, and camp (after buying a cheap tent) more and more often.
My first night in the small, cozy hostel I made a large, delicious meal for 4 or 5 girls that were travelling, a bit of a dowry you could call it. That sort of bought my way in and spent the night hanging out with the group of them and others from the hostel. This group left the next day and as I was making plans to do a hike up to one of the many ¨refugios¨ (refuge, sort of like a cabin, camping area in the wilderness) I met 3 other argentinian men that were planning on doing the same. The day after we left together and camped out for the next 2 night, with 2 full days of tough walking. Between the 2 days we probably walked around 40 Km of steep uphill climbing. It was a good group I was with, All from the Buenos Aires Province, 2 studying in Buenos Aires and the third in Bahia Blanca on the eastern coast. Gaspar was a musician and taught me a fair bit of guitar. Juan was a pretty boy but not in persona and Messa was the quiet accomplice to Juan.We hiked up towards Cerro Hielo Azul and the refugio of the same name. The following day we hiked all the way to the top of the mountain to see the snow clusters there and the receding glacier where parts of it showed blue. (Hielo Azul mean Blue Ice). After descending from the summit we packed and started to go all the way back down. By the end we were all exhausted and sore. Gaspar, being quite a bit heavier and less fit then the rest of us struggled both on the ascent and descent, saying ¨Words cannot descirbe the pain I am experiencing in my foot right now!¨ We made it finally, I was left with a great feeling of achievement and strength, followed by a sobering wave of fatigue which I would spend the next day working on riding myself of.
The three were good company although at first we did not connect, simply because of the difficulty in understanding the Argentinian accent. This difficulty I believe affected my confidence which left me not feeling like myself. The second night I took it upon myself to make a fire, the dinner (which was tasty) and start the conversation. By the third day we were a close group and stuck together late into the night. I left them laying in the plaza, preparing to sleep on the ground there under a bush because they did not want to pay for a hostel for 6 hours of sleep (they were leaving in the morning). I myself went back to the same hostel to recover and wait for the next available bus to the far south, where I would stay as long as I felt was financially possible.
EDIT
I actually ended up staying 3 extra days longer than desired and expected in El Bolsón. I continuously had trouble arranging a bus down south and was stuck there. Luckily I was stuck in a place that I really enjoyed. I spent the next 3 days partially twiddling my thumbs, full of stress over ¨wasting time¨. Aside from this I did some general walks around the beuatiful nature that surrounds El Bolsón, listened to music (because there are constant festivites going on here in the summer) and met more Argentinians. I finally left on the 23rd, more than ready to leave.
I arrived in Rio Gallegos after a 23 hour bus ride down. It was the 24th of January and it was about 11 o´clock, All the buses that went to Ushuaia from here (another 15 hours) left in the morning. So I was once again forced to spend another night somewhere. I camped out in a place near the station and spent the day walking around the center, which consisted of absolutely nothing of interest. Only homes and uninteresting stores. I went to catch my first glimse of the Atlantic Ocean which was not spectacular either. The next day I was more than ready to get on my way to Ushuaia, the end of the world. To get there we would have to cross into Chile, cross the Magellan Straights onto the Big Island, Tierra Del Fuego (Land of Fire), and cross back into Argentina and down to Ushuaia. The Southermost City of the World.
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