DRIVING ACROSS ARGENTINA

DAY 1

Our bus ride from Mendoza to Cordoba (see "The Trip from Hell") convinced us to rent a car for the rest of the journey to Iguazú.  Avis provided a comfortable SUV and we left Cordoba at 11:30--90 minutes after our ETD. 

Plaza San Martin, Cordoba

Córdoba is laid out in a grid--like most Latin American cities--and most streets are one-way.  The Avis agent kindly provided a Map-Quest-type print-out of directions for how to get out of the city--in Spanish. No problem.  Once we figured out where north was---only one wrong turn--we were on our way.  The divided highway ended soon after and we in the Pampas--Argentina's vast and fertile flat lands (think the prairies) where, over the next few hours we zoomed past fields of soy, corn, alfalfa, sun flowers, and thousands of cattle grazing. (Argentine cattle are grass-raised, which makes for delicious, cut-it-with-your-table-knife-tender beef).

East of Córdoba we passed through one farm town after another: Rio Primero (First River), Santiago Temple (James Temple), El Tío (The Uncle), and then San Francisco, a major agricultural town with red grain elevators on the main street. 

Monument to 30 years of democracy, Arroyito.

There were--surprisingly--no restaurants on the highway so we drove into town looking for lunch.  On the main street we spotted a confitería, La Palma, a typically Argentine cafe that serves fresh, light fare. La Palma offered pizza, pasta, hot and cold sandwiches, tapas, salads, and eleven pages of wines. In the adjacent store-front, accessible through an interior door, is their pastry shop with cakes, home-made chocolates, and ice cream. The tiramisu was yummy. 

Grain elevators, San Francisco

Coming into town and heading back to the highway the burg was closed down.  Clearly, everyone goes home at noon on Saturday and probably doesn't reappear for anything resembling work until Monday morning.  Very civilized.

Just outside San Francisco we entered Santa Fe Province and soon encountered a divided highway separated by the widest parkway I've ever seen--probably twice the width of the Sunshine State Parkway between Ocala and Miami.  There were no more cow towns on the road and we made great time until we hit the outskirts of Santa Fe city where the highway disappeared and we found ourselves on a two-lane, one-way street that took us through the burbs.  Signage was very good and there were no wrong turns and we wound our way to the Paraná River, a bridge and on to more of Santa Fe. 

The Parana is very wide; indeed, it is navigable by ocean-going ships all the way to Encarnación, Paraguay and Posadas, Corrientes, several hundred kilometers to the northeast. We discovered just how wide the Paraná is when we crossed the main bridge, entered Entre Rios province, and passed through a tunnel under the eastern-most part of the river just before entering the city of Paraná.  Along the way we were impressed by the high level of the river, which has flooded normally dry land and left houses half under water.  

Sunset in Corrientes

The houses were not substantial and, given their location, may have been squatters' homes but the torrential rains that Argentina and neighbouring countries have experienced in recent months have clearly increased the homeless population in this region. 

Route 12 north from Paraná is a well-maintained two-lane highway with little traffic on a late Saturday afternoon. We made good time but still arrived in Goya, our destination, three hours later than planned.  

Goya led us to a wonderful discovery that we would confirm the next night in Mercedes: Small cities across Argentina have casino hotels that are modern, comfortable, include a good buffet breakfast, and are inexpensive--less than US$100 per night for a room with a king-size bed.  The casino is there for aficionados, which we are not, but the hotels are well-located, usually in the town centre, and are easy to find. 

The view from our hotel room in Goya

The Paraná River at Goya

Afternoon respite by the Paraná--enjoying Mate with friends.

DAY 2

Having arrived late we did not rush to depart the next morning, as the next day's driive was--we estimated from previous experience--no more than five hours.  On the way to Mercedes, where we would turn north to Carlos Pellegrini, our destination, we stopped at the Gaucho Gil shrine.

Gaucho Antonio Gil is a Robin Hood figure in Corrientes province. In the mid 19th century he acquired a reputation for stealing from rich land owners and giving live stock and food to the poor--a practice for which he paid with his life.  It isn't clear how Gil became a popular saint but  shrines to  him--always red and usually sporting red flags-- can be found along road sides and at entrances to homes all over northern Argentina and as far south as the Valdez Peninsula (at the northern end of Patagonia).

The main Gaucho Gil shrine is a major attraction for tourists and those who believe that praying to Gil will bestow blessings of one kind or another.  The shrine is surrounded by kiosks selling candles and souvenirs.  As with homage to saints in Catholic churches, people buy one or more candles, light them and say a prayer.  Others place a hand on a Gil statue and pray.  All this has absolutely nothing to do with Catholicism but the veneration is similar.

We continued east on Route 123 and turned north toward Pellegrini, 123 km. north. To our happy surprise, the road was paved; four years earlier, it was well-maintained gravel. We cruised along for 33 km, then the pavement ended and the nightmare began.  Since the road is being prepared for paving, absolutely no maintenance is being done, so the pot holes are numerous; mud stretches increase the possibility of skids and, after covering another 27 km. in 47 minutes we stopped and calculated that we would not arrive until 23:00.  

On the road to Carlos Pellegrini

Tired, beaten out by the jarrring ride, we made the unhappy decision to turn around and go back to Mercedes where we found our second casino hotel and large, comfortable rooms.  After settling in, I  got on line and found our next lodging--in Posadas.  We gave up on our long-anticipated visit to the Esteros del Iberá, one of the world's great wetlands and nature reserves. 

DAY 3-4

On the trip to Posadas we stopped at La Cruz to see the only remaining sun clock constructed by the Jesuits during their century-plus in Argentina.

Then we relaxed for two days at Aventura, a comfortable, somewhat rustic resort on the river west of downtown Posadas. It was a welcome respite after several grueling days in an SUV.  Our one outing was to return to Itakva, our favourite restaurant in Posadas.  Located on the costanera across from Encarcación, Paraguay, Itakva is a wonderfully designed restaurant whose  back wall is the cliff face that separates the city centre from the coast.  "Itakva" is a Guaraní word that means "Cave in the Stone. We were delighted to find that the quality of its food has not declined in four years. 

Itakva Restaurant, Posadas.

Monument to the Guaraní, Posadas. Encarnación, Paraguay is in the distance. 

DAY 5

The last leg of the journey, from Posadas to Puerto Iguazu, is only 300 km but it was pouring for most of the trip.  As a result, our plan to stop in San Ignacio and visit the Jesuit mission was reduced to driving around the periphery of the site, then tootling on.  After checking in at the Rainforest Hotel Selva, we returned the car and encountered a wonderful driver at the hotel, Daniel, who drove us to Iguazu Falls the next day, then to Brazil the day after that. 

Rainforest Hotel Selva, Iguazu

Driving around Argentina is generally easy because most roads are well maintained, there are frequent gas stations--almost all with mini-marts--and people are kind and helpful.  It was our third trip around the northern half of the country; maybe next time we can head south!

Climate Change in the Amazon

2015: From the mouth of the Valeria River looking toward the Amazon (brown water).

Traveling up the Amazon never gets old.  There are always new sights, delight at seeing favourite places again, and unexpected discoveries.  This is our fourth cruise to Manaus since 2012 and we were particularly looking foward to seeing our favourite boat captain and his family in Boca de Valeria.  There were hints of lower river levels at Santarem but nothing prepared us for the shock of seeing the previously wide mouth of the Valeria River reduced to a channel so narrow that it has been reduced to one-way traffic.

Mouth of the Valeria River, 2015.  Note green house on left.

Mouth of the Valeria River, 2016. Note green house, on left.

This is the green house from the river, 2015.

The owner of the green house, looking at her new front yard, 2016. 

This was her view in 2015.

A year ago we had the pleasure of seeing a medium-sized river boat anchored in front of the village. That river boat can no longer get within a half-kilometer of Boca.

River boat at Boca de Valeria, 2015

The reason: a severe drought reduced river levels so much that Adeuson's 35-foot boat with in-board motor could not move from it's home port in Santa Rita de Valeria, 25 minutes up-stream from Boca.  He told us that, before the dredge boats arrived several months ago, there was only a foot of water in front of the beach where boats land and people hike up the hill to the village.  "We could only paddle,", he said, adding that he was unable to provide "school bus/boat" transportation for children from Boca to the 10-year-old school in Santa Rita.  The one-room school house in Boca offers only three grades; the next six years are spent at the school in Santa Rita, after which students must go to Parentins--a 90 minute motorbike ride west.

The result of dredging was to fill in wetlands that had defined the western side of the river and reduce the channel from 50m to less than 10 in places.  This has meant the disappearance of large areas of the iconic Amazonian water lily pads, which so delighted us last year.

The change is immediately apparent from the Amazon: what was a wide-mouth river with wetlands to the west and a few small islands, is now land-fill on both sides.  It appears that the job was done quickly: undoubtedly, Boca de Valeria and Santa Rita are not the only villages along the Amazon to be so affected so providing access, however limited, was critical. Still, we lamented the fact that care wasn't taken to create a flaring river mouth at Boca, keeping to the extent possible the original contours of the land.

The Valeria River upstream from Boca--now a narrow channel.

Another impact of the drought has been lightening fires.  Adeuson pointed out an area near Santa Rita that burned several months ago after lightening ignited dry wood.

Still, our visit with the Barbosa family was a delight.  Adeuson's boat motor was out of commission so he teamed up with a friend--with a somewhat smaller and less comfortable boat--to ferry six of us up river.  Daughter Aline--who is clearly a Daddy's girl (she has been along all three trips we've made with him) is eleven and we met her 13year-old brother, Arrelson, for the first time. We also had the pleasure of meeting Adeuson's mother, who proudly showed off her two sewing machines--one pedal, the other electric.

Arrleson, Elba, Aline, and Adeuson Barbosa

Santa Rita has been electrified for at least a dozen years and they have had potable, running water for the same period.  Most houses have a satellite dish; Adeuson and Elba's kitchen is well-equipt with stove, fridge, and washing machine.

House with satellite dish, Santa Rita. 

General store, Santa Rita. 

Visiting Santa Rita, which welcomes visitors but does not put on a show like we found in Boca, provides insight into daily life in a modestly well-developed Amazonian village.  While the village does not yet have Internet, the school does--along with a computer lab.

Boca, in contrast, puts on a show for the tourists--some of which is interesting and some exploitative. The most  difficult scenes are small children, usually girls, dressed in what their parents want tourists to think is traditional indigenous Amazonian garb, with feather, painted faces, and skimpy outfits.  The parents want tourists to take pictures of their children--in exchange for a dollar.  It's very sad.

2014 - This girl was still out with her sloth in 2016.

I noted that, from our first visit in 2012 to this year, the number of children have multiplied.  Four years ago there were fewer than five; this year there were at least twelve.  There were also several adults in full traditional dress; unfortunately, they reminded me more of the costumes for the Boi Bumba festival in Parentins than the traditional dress seen in authentic pictures of indigenous Amazonians. 

An Amazon Catfish--looking across to new land fill, 2016.

One of the two houses in Boca de Valeria with murals on the walls.

One other fall-out from these cruse ship visits --and there are several, like the children lining up as people disembark, take their hands and lead them off for a tour, then expecting some payment--at least a dollar--is the level of not-so-subtle begging.  A open-air bar on stilts has been built that hot and thirsty visitors find most welcome. As I got to the counter, two teenage girls were standing there trying to get my attention because they wanted me to buy them pop.  I had never seen them before and ignored them.

The other side of the coin, however, are tourists who think they can take pictures of any and everyone--including those who are clearly posing or want their pictures taken with their pets--ranging from a capybary to sloths to baby Amazonian caimans--without giving those posing anything, and taking offense at the idea that they should give them a dollar.  My point to one was:  When you take something from someone, you pay for it; you are taking their image so you pay them. The tourist did not agree.

Back to the starting point: Manaus provided further confirmation of the precipitous drop in river levels, but I'll save that for the next blog.

MAPUCHE LAND

"I am Mapuche," the young woman in the gift shop at the Regional Museum of the Araucanía in Temuco, Chile, said. "But our children are taught in school that we are Araucanía. But we are Mapuche." She was responding to my query about the two words and confirmed my impression that "Araucanía" is an imposition of the conquerors.

Temuco is a seven-hour drive south of Santiago on Route 5 and sits at the northern end of Chile's Lake Country, which extends south to Puerto Montt, another five hours to the south. The Mapuche dominated central Chile for millennia before the Spanish arrived and they extend into western Temuco Argentina, especially in the province of Neuquen. 

Route 5 is a limited access highway that begins at the Peruvian border a few kilometres north of Arica and ends on Chiloé Island south of Puerto Montt. The land, which is desert until south of Valparaiso, becomes increasingly green and vineyards spread into the distance.

Temuco, today's centre of Mapuche culture. The museum is housed in a 19th century mansion, that tells the story of the Mapuche and explains their culture, spiritual beliefs, and practices. Archaeological artifacts recovered from digs throughout the area reveal that the Mapuche were--and are--gifted artisans and skilled craftsmen.

Finely crafted silver jewelry is accompanied by explanations of its significance and meaning. The largest artifact is a hand-hewn wooden canoe six meters long. One section is devoted to the Spaniards, who arrived in the 1530s, changed Mapuche life forever, and gave them a more Spanish-sounding name: the Araucanía.

An ad for a Mapuche cultural fair in Pucón had us heading southeast toward Villa Rica, a large town on the shore of Lake Villa Rica and dominated by the Villa Rica volcano, which is visible for many kilometers before arriving. The volcano erupted in March 2015, sending the inhabitants of Pucón fleeing. Today it once again sleeps--for another 10-15 years. 

5m-long single-log canoe.

Villa Rica is a tourist town with a long beach on the lake shore and many restaurants.  As we entered town, people were standing on the road side with hand-lettered signs: "Cabaña", "casita", "apartments" for rent. Clearly, AirBnB has room for growth in these parts!

Pucón sits at the eastern end of Lake Villa Rica. It is much smaller and was overrun with tourists on this summer weekend. Our destination, however, was the Mapuche fair, six km. out of town on the "road to the volcano." The site has permanent shops and kiosks but the fair was a short walk behind them. 

Mapuche music boomed from amps and two young men in traditional dress were giving an explanation of the symbolism in the Mapuche flag. To the left was an area where individuals could try their hand at wood carving, a classic skill and next to this area was a row of kiosks selling Mapuche handcrafts. At the opposite end of thee area were tables, benches, and more kiosks selling beverages and food.  Mean and chicken were grilling on open fires; David commented that, in North America, local health inspectors would have severely raised eye brows over this.

After leaving the fair we drove a bit further along the "Road to the Volcano" and found an unobstructed view of the mammoth. Then we turned around and headed back to Temuco with a better understanding of Mapuche life and culture.