TravelSeen: Across the Andes: From Santiago to Mendoza

Manzano Historico, Mendoza, where San Martín and his troops rested.

It took General José de San Martín 21 days in January 1817 with 5,400 men, 1,500 horses, and 9,300 mules. They were the Army of the Andes and they were on their way to liberate Chile, having already driven the Spanish from Argentina. Once across the mountains, San Martín joined with Chilean General Bernardo O’Higgins to begin the second war for independence in the Southern Cone. On 12 February 1817, at the Battle of Chacabuco—60 km. north of Santiago—the Royalists lost 500 and another 600 were taken prisoner while the Army of the Andes suffered 12 killed and 100 wounded.

Chacabuco Park, an hour north of Santiago.

San Martín wrote: “The Army of the Andes has attained glory and can report: In twenty-four days we have completed the campaign, passed through the highest mountain range on the globe, defeated the tyrants and given freedom to Chile".

(San Martín didn’t know about the Himalayas!)

The war would drag on for another year but at Chacabuco independence was assured. The monument and the park in which it sits are located at Chacabuco.

We had a much easier time of it.

After disembarking in Valparaiso we made our way to Santiago where we were met by Rodrigo del Valle, a tour guide arranged through a Chilean agency. Rodrigo’s English is excellent; he lived in Los Angeles for 25 years. We had asked to see the Maipo Valley, an area west of Santiago that we hadn’t visited on previous trips. If you buy Chilean wine you have probably seen “Maipo Valley” on some bottles’ labels.

Maipo Valley

La Vasquita Eché

First stop, however, was lunch, at La Vasquita Eché, where the grilled lamb shank and an obscenely large chunk of tenderloin are standard fare. Argentines and Chileans are not acquainted with small cuts of meat. We were also treated to a guitarist/singer and a pair of folk dancers.

Century-old corking machine.

Then it was on to a small, family-owned winery, the Cavas del Maipo, where the owner, Jaime, gave us a detailed tour, explaining along the way why he does things the way he does. The result, as we found during the tasting at the end, is a superb chardonnay with no oak taste and the only cabernet sauvignon in memory that I would choose to drink: smooth with no harshness. One of Jaime’s treasures is a 100-year old corking machine that he still uses to cork his sparkling wine.

Back at our hotel, we checked in, found a light supper, and were in bed by 10. We had to be up at 06:00 for a 07:30 bus to Mendoza, Argentina. A few years earlier we had rented a car and driven up to the border and three decades ago I had driven from Mendoza almost to the Chilean border. The bus was first-class with wide, comfortable seats, and our agent had gotten us the best seats: front, left on a double-decker. Lots of photo ops!

The trip normally takes five hours but Chile was doing serious road construction on the stretch near the border—above 3,000 m. (10,000 ft.) clearly trying to finish before winter sets in and skiers want to drive up to Portillo, a large ski resort just short of the border.

Portillo

The delays for one-way traffic cost us an hour and the stop at customs on the Argentine side another hour.

In 2008, on our first trip to Chile, David and I had driven up to Portillo just to see the Andes. It never gets less spectacular but the best part is the 29 hair-pin curves (they are numbered) up the last mountain before the border. At this point we were at about 4,000 meters or 14,000 feet. On almost every straight stretch between curves, one can look down as see not only the valley but all the curves below. We had a VERY good driver!

Some of the 29 curves.

The border crossing is efficient. Everyone drives into a huge building with several lanes

Customs and Immigration, Argentine side.

for cars and two for buses. Bus passengers must get off and present their passports or—in the case of Chilean/Argentine citizens their national ID card. Sitting side by each in a glass-enclosed stall, a Chilean agent stamps the passport out of Chile and the Argentine agent stamps it in. A random check of suitcases (ours escaped), then back on the bus for a non-stop to Mendoza.

The Argentine side of the Andes is quite different from the Chilean; one is descending to 1,000 m (3,500 ft.) at Mendoza and the road, for the most part, snakes through wide valleys. We got a partial view of Mt. Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the Western Hemisphere, but its peak was, as usual, shrouded in clouds.