Argentina Road Trip!

We rented a car in Mendoza with Ritchie and Deirdre with plans to drive down the infamous Ruta 40, a journey made auspicious by many others before us. On our wish list was a stay at an Estancia for some horseback riding with real gauchos (Argentinian cowboys) as well as camping and hiking in Patagonia. Our Irish friends would have to leave us in Bariloche to continue their trip to Buenos Aires, while we would carry on all the way down to El Calafate, in the southern portion of Argentina. The journey ended up covering 3982km over 19 days, starting on January 27th and ending on February 14th. As we set forth, we had no idea what to expect but we were all very excited to begin!

The car we ended up renting after much footwork by Ritchie was a 2011 Chevrolet Corsa wagon. After much deliberation we christened it "El Saltito", in honour of the Salar where we had all met for the first time, and the short-lived white colour of the car.

El Saltito was put to the ultimate test along Ruta 40`s infamous gravel roads, a journey that the Argentinian Automobile Club advised us not to attempt in our chosen chariot. Although at times it seemed like the rocks would get the best of him, El Saltito and his passengers alike emerged victorious as he limped into the airport parking lot at El Calafate and we had our insurance deposit returned. Thankfully rental car inspections do not include below car reviews!

It is hard to describe the feeling of excitement and wonder during the road trip, so we chose to use a few excerpts from Patricia´s journal to try and convey some of the lasting moments.

¨The Road Trip" - by Patricia Mills

I can taste the dust as rocks bounce
off the car bottom, striking a rhythm under my feet.
Heads bob, bodies roll
on an unfinished road in Argentina.

Weathered cliffs cut into ribbons of colour
undulate with soft curves of sunset hues.
Hot air blows through stunted growth, bushes sway
bringing the smell of warm rocks on the wind.

The sun through the window warms my side
just perfect, too hot, just perfect.
The wind trough the window whips my hair
just perfect, too strong, just perfect.

A stop on the road:
molten lava rock, black and polished, flows smoothly
into the murky green swirling waters below.
Looking up, sand dunes roll away under the baking noon sun.

Persistent beeping, a most unwelcome sound
hearts stop, stomachs drop, on this empty desert plain.
Fingers crossed as the engine cools
aaah, yes... on the road again.

An evening sun hangs just above the horizon
the rays still warm the skin.
Through closed eyelids, the world is bloodred,
and the music pulses through my veins.

Soft wrinkled mountains, topped with golden fuzz
of trees sun-kissed with white flowered lips.
Leaves russle in the Patagonian wind
as dust lifts and glitters over the valley below.

Asphalt cuts a winding scar into the mountainside
as nature and man together make views
that slow thought and draws the eye
down the endless road ahead.