Mike writes:
Our expectations for Buta Ranquil, a town which is still saving up for a horse so it can qualify for the coveted singular equine status, had been low. And first impressions weren’t great. The beds were smaller than those at my prep school in 1964.
However Hotel Portal Norte redeemed itself in style as the owner, Francesca and her ebullient husband, were the perfect hosts. What they’d saved on the beds they’d invested in the extensive wine cellar and enormous barbecue.
Nothing was too much trouble for our hosts, including donating a small baby to allow Chris to practice his grandfather act with.
The only negative was that John’s shingles forced him, and interpreter Frankie, to forego the early evening beers in favour of a visit to the local hospital, where the medical team were excellent. Meanwhile back at the hotel we were less confident about John’s survival prospects and so set about recruiting a replacement. We held auditions and after much deliberation decided on Gaston (or George Formby junior as he is now known). He may lack John’s blog assembling and budgeting skills, but he plays a mean Ukelele.
We set off early this morning with Frankie and I taking Gaston with us thus breaking rule 14(b) “thou shalt not take hitch hikers”. Gaston’s musical skills prevented us suffering endless Van Morrison tracks from my playlists and complete silence from Frankie’s as he seems to have deleted them all by mistake.
We were again amazed by the diversity of scenery. In the 560 kms driven today we had bleak desert conditions, empty expanses of moorland, spectacular snow-capped volcanos and verdant pastures.
We stopped early in the morning at Chos Malal to refuel the cars and allow John to get more painkillers. The refuelling process was complicated as we had contravened a bizarre queuing system which gave precedence to young women driving clapped out Fiats. We were told we had to drive round the block to join the back of the queue but as usual refused to comply by feigning complete ignorance of the Spanish language, which was a little tricky for Frankie.
The quality of the roads was generally excellent again and we made good time until we met the inevitable “desvio” (diversion) signs and then had to struggle though sand and loose gravel and dodge pot holes for 50kms.
The final scenery change was as we approached San Martin de los Andes and the Patagonian Lake District. Suddenly we found ourselves in an alpine village which would not look out of place in Switzerland.
Our hosteria tonight may be a little basic (yet again) but the town and the surrounding area is beautiful.
We’ve got more of the same to look forward to tomorrow as we head to San Carlos de Bariloche where Lois joins us for the final section down to Ushuaia.
Our America’s Challenge Drive 