Up the Volcano!

This past southern summer, one of my goals was to climb a volcano. The original idea was to strap on crampons to reach the crater of Chile’s Volcán Villarrica (pictured above, it's Rukapillán to the indigenous Mapuche), near the resort town of Pucón, but a seismic alert that culminated in a startling eruption on March 3rd postponed that option.

I returned to Pucón late last month – with the volcano still smoking if not quite threatening – but in the interim I had found an alternative. While driving north on the Carretera Austral, I reached the town of Chaitén, recently resettled since a dramatic eruption of its own namesake volcano (pictured above) in May of 2008. The clouds of ash and a subsequent flood had forced its evacuation then.

When I visited the town a year later, the volcano was still smoking, with cars and houses nearly buried beneath the ash, and the southern beech forests of nearby Parque Pumalín – an audacious private conservation project – were nearly denuded (as pictured above).  This year, though, a lush green understory of ferns, rhubarb-like nalcas and shrubs (pictured below) surrounded the still pallid tree trunks – a handful of which had resprouted - and the park had opened a trail to the rim of the volcano’s crater.

A misleading sign (pictured below) suggested a three-hour round-trip to the rim and back but, on a hot late-summer day in this usually cool damp climate, it took me twice that - especially given the steep staircases that comprised much of the trail, and the blisters I favored after another hike in Torres del Paine. Statistically, the climb was 600 meters in just 2.2 kilometers, a roughly 27 percent gradient, though it seemed even steeper and longer.

There were quite a few other hikers, several of them Argentines taking advantage of a three-day weekend to cross the border from the city of Esquel. Four Chilean hikers included two women, one of whom was wearing heels – not quite exactly stilettos, but more like high-heeled sneakers that could not have been comfortable, and would have been especially awkward on the descent. They didn’t quite make it to the rim, but their husbands did.

Seemingly designed for NBA forwards, the staircases (it's not I in the photo above) made it exhausting but when I reached the rim (pictured below), at the same time as a couple young French sisters, we could see the smoke seeping from the crater and hear a low rumble. Still barren at the top, it was nevertheless not at the point of expelling large clouds of ash, much less volcanic bombs or lava. Still, in late afternoon, we didn’t tarry in returning.

Given the steepness and loose ash, the descent was trickier than the ascent, but less tiring. At the end of the day, I was glad to have done it, and glad that it was over, and I’m still hoping to tackle Villarrica the next time I’m in Pucón – presuming the threat of another eruption continues to recede.

Patagonia Blue(s)? An Exchange-Rate Update

For various reasons – a brief illness and a work assignment that kept me anchored to the computer for about ten days – I’ve spent less time on the Argentine side of Patagonia than I had hoped or anticipated. That said, it’s still given me some insight into the continuing complications of the exchange rates here, both for foreign visitors and for Argentines and their businesses.

Two weeks ago, I crossed the border from Chile’s Torres del Paine to the Argentine tourist town of El Calafate, where I usually stay in my cousin’s house. She was out of town, though, and my other usual contacts (her ex-husband and my nephew) had no available space, so I had to spend money on a hotel. I found a simple but pleasant place for 490 pesos (about US$55 at the official exchange rate).

I had a supply of Argentine pesos that I had purchased at the “blue” rate of roughly 13 to the dollar in December in Buenos Aires, but thought I might need more, so I asked the owner what rate she paid for US dollars. I knew it would be lower here, where the tourist economy puts quite a bit of foreign currency in private hands – my cousin and nephew are guides who often get tips in dollars – but accepted the offer of 11.50 pesos per dollar, which made the effective room rate about US$43. I also got some change in return, augmenting my peso supply.

That wasn’t as good as the Buenos Aires rate and, at dinner with my nephew and my cousin’s ex that night, I learned that Calafate’s only foreign exchange house had closed. That leaves the banks and ATMs, which pay only the official rate, or negotiations with hotels or other businesses, such as tour agencies. En route to El Chaltén, I made a brief stop at the historic roadhouse of La Leona (pictured above), where the rate was 11 pesos (as pictured below). Friends at El Chaltén, who operate a hybrid hostel/B&B, told me they were reluctant to involve themselves in money-changing because of the recent fluctuations in the market (the dollar reached as high as 15 pesos in the not-too-distant past).

As I reported in the previous post, I had to make an unexpected detour to the town of Gobernador Gregores as I drove north on Ruta 40, and there the YPF gas station (pictured below) was offering 10 pesos – not much of a premium on the official rate. I had plenty of pesos to fill the tank, though, so I didn’t have to change money there.

Shortly thereafter, I returned to Chile and, a couple days ago, I crossed the border from Futaleufú to Esquel, where a friend told me the market there had pretty much dried up because of a government crackdown. I proceeded north, with a brief stop for empanadas and ice cream at El Bolsón, before arriving at Villa La Angostura, my last stop before returning to Chile. My pesos were running a little low.

Unfortunately, I arrived too late to visit Cambio Andina (pictured at top), an exchange house that was paying the blue rate last year. I went to find accommodations and learned that, unfortunately, this is the weekend of a big moto-cross event (something I loathe) and rooms would be hard to find. The first place that had a room (which I knew from an earlier visit) would accept dollars at nine pesos, barely above the official rate.

Another place’s prices had skyrocketed – even in dollar terms – since I stayed there last year, but its owner would change dollars at 12 pesos. I decided to try one other place, where an apologetic receptionist told me that Andina would still change at the blue rate for tourists, but only the official rate for locals, so she preferred not to do so. I ended up returning to the previous option, but paying a bit more than I had hoped.

What’s the moral of this story? Argentina continues to be unpredictable, and is likely to be so at least until a new government takes office at year’s end.

MEANWHILE, ACROSS THE ANDES

There’s also news in Chile’s foreign exchange market, where the dollar stood at roughly 620 pesos when I arrived at the end of January, then rose upwards of 640 before recently returning to the 620 level. This contrasts, however, with the rate of 540 pesos a year ago, so that Chile has actually gotten a bit cheaper (unlike in Argentina, inflation remains low). Also, in Chile, there’s no parallel market, so you can withdraw from ATMs without an exchange rate penalty (preferably BancoEstado, with very low user charges).

Argentina's Peso Blues Play On

For two years now, the presence of the “blue dollar” has indicated that the Argentine peso has been seriously overvalued in the foreign exchange market, Argentina’s clumsy foreign exchange control measures and other erratic policies have driven the US currency into ever-higher territory.

This came to the fore last week as I sought to change money in Puerto Madryn (pictured above), whose only exchange house (pictured below) was offering the official rate (interestingly, the English word dollar derives from the German Thaler). I tried my usual real-estate broker tactic, but that didn’t work and then I tried a travel agency, where I got an offer of nine pesos – despite the strong dollar, substantially less than the 10 I had gotten in Villa La Angostura and Neuquén.

While visiting a friend who works in Madryn’s municipal tourism office, I asked whether she might have any suggestions, and she told me not to expect much. Nevertheless, she gave me an unconventional suggestion to visit a glass merchant whose unprepossessing polarized facade gave no indication of what was inside.

Entering a small foyer where a young woman stood behind an elevated counter, I asked if I might sell dollars there. She responded that her boss was unavailable, but suggested I return in half an hour, which I did. She then said she would have to fetch the cotización (the day’s rate), and returned shortly with a quote of 11.10 pesos to the dollar, the best I have yet gotten.

She then ushered me into another room, where I counted out US$500 in Benjamin Franklins. Taking the bills, she left briefly and returned with five bundles of ten 100-peso banknotes, each held together with a paper clip. We counted them out carefully and, the transaction included, I left with a thank you – never having met her boss face-to-face.

This was on Wednesday the 22nd, when the peso was under pressure and the blue rate skyrocketed to 12 and then 13 in Buenos Aires. That also unnerved the government, which has announced vague (and probably changeable) measures to permit Argentines to purchase dollars once again, despite dwindling reserves that have raised questions about the country’s ability to meet foreign debt obligations.

On Friday, the official peso fell to nearly eight per dollar and, given the vagueness of the dollar purchase plan, the blue dollar briefly entered a state of suspension, falling below the 12-peso mark. Since officials revealed the details this morning, though, it has once again risen above 12.

I’m about to return to Chile, so I had no urgent need to change, but I did sell US$200 to friends in Esquel because, when I return to Argentina, I’ll be entering a thinly populated area where even finding an ATM may be a challenge. The rate was a little uncertain when we did the transaction, and we compromised at 10.50 pesos.

Chilean Currency Depreciates Too...
It’s worth noting that the Chilean peso has also declined recently – from 520 per dollar when I flew to Santiago in mid-November to 550 per dollar as of Friday. Chile, though, has an open-market foreign exchange system with no parallel peso, so this probably reflects recent weakness in the price of copper, Chile’s principal export, and a port strike that has reduced economic activity. Still, it looks to make my travel costs a bit lower when I cross the border.

After the Ashes: Let's Choose (Moon) Patagonia!

For northern Argentine Patagonia, the last year was a tough one, as massive ashfall from Chile’s Volcán Puyehue closed the airport at San Carlos de Bariloche, which is 1,600 km southwest of Buenos Aires, for most of the winter ski season and the recent summer. That diverted air traffic to Neuquén (429 km to the north) and Esquel (290 km to the south), but both those cities are still several hours away from the heart of Argentina’s “lakes district,” where the picturesque lakeside town of Villa la Angostura (pictured below) was most severely affected.

I wasn’t able to visit Bariloche(pictured below) on my recent South American trip, but my wife went in March and Puyehue’s impact was still conspicuous even though the skies were relatively clear. Business had dropped dramatically, but a local NGO has a new plan to promote the region and, simultaneously, initiate an ambitious new recycling project. Solidarity Network Argentina is using 475,000 plastic soft drink bottles – admittedly only a fraction of the many discarded in the area - to build a sign, five km long and 100 meters high, that will be visible from space via Google Earth.

Built in the vicinity of Bariloche’s airport, the sign will read ElijamosPatagonia.com (“Let’s Choose Patagonia”), to advertise the fact that, as Puyehue’s eruption subsides, the region is once again ready to host visitors, starting with the upcoming ski season. After being photographed by the satellite, it will be dismantled and the materials shipped to Buenos Aires – while the bottles are recyclable, there’s no facility in the immediate area that can handle the job.

Let’s Choose Moon Patagonia!

As part of my own contribution to the project, I will give away copies of the new third edition of Moon Patagonia to the first two readers who can answer the following question: “What was the last Chilean volcano, prior to Puyehue, to affect travel to Argentine Patagonia?” Special mention to anyone who can identify the one before that (hint: That was in 1991, and it was considerably farther south).

Please send your answer not to the comments box, but rather to the following email address: southerncone (at) mac.com. If you already have a copy of the book, please refrain from entering.

Argentine Trains Off the Rails, So to Speak

In 1985, we rode this freight from San Antonio de los Cobres to the Chilean border at Socompa.

A couple weeks ago, at work, my wife was to participate in a lunchtime game that required each person on her team to disclose a fact, anonymously, that nobody would expect about him or her; in turn, the team would try to match the fact with the person. When she asked me to suggest what she might reveal, I told her she should offer that she had once hitched a lift on a freight train, which the two of us did from the northwestern Argentine town of San Antonio de los Cobres to the international border, before continuing on toward Antofagasta on a Chilean freight.

The train station at San Antonio de los Cobres, with my backpack at right.

That was in 1985, on the route now known as the Tren a las Nubes (Train to the Clouds); to the best of my memory, it was the last time I rode a long-distance train – as opposed to commuter and tourist trains - in Argentina (or Chile, for that matter). It was enormous fun, as the crew let us sleep in the caboose and, during the daytime, the engineer even invited us up to the locomotive.

At one time, numerous train left from Retiro to destinations throughout Argentina. Today, only a handful do.

Still, I’m often asked about trains in Argentina and, reluctantly, I tell everybody that, unless you’re a fanatical trainspotter or perhaps even a foamer, it’s best to stick to the bus or plane. In the 1980s we often took the train, most notably on our honeymoon from Retiro (pictured above) to Mendoza, a trip from hell that took place during Argentina’s July winter holidays of 1981. We were on a budget, in “Pullman” seats that reclined only slightly, and our car filled up with military conscripts who, at that time, traveled for free as long as they remained standing on a 24-hour marathon. It was not fun.

Estación Constitución in its early days

That no longer happens, partly because there is no more conscription in Argentina but mostly because there are so few trains, and except for the one that runs between Constitución (Buenos Aires, pictured above in early days) and Mar del Plata, they’re pretty dismal. According to the city daily Clarín, a rail network that stretched some 37,000 km in 1950 now covers only 7,500 km, and freight has priority on most of the remaining track. Trains like El Gran Capitán, which until recently connected the capital with the northern city of Posadas, are by all accounts something to avoid (especially in summer, when the weather is brutally hot and humid). It’s theoretically possible to travel by rail from Constitución to Bariloche, but that requires crossing the Río Negro from Carmen de Patagones to Viedma and then waiting six days for the connection.

Yet the trains are full, and that’s because they’re cheap. To quote Clarín, “According to the level of service, the bus can cost nine times more than the train,” which is the only option for many poorer Argentines. The train to Córdoba, for instance, costs 30 pesos (about US$7), while the bus can cost 250 pesos (roughly US$64). For that reason, the trains sell out early: “In high season, it’s better to buy 90 days ahead of time – the rest of the year 15 should be sufficient – and departures are few: the train departs only Monday and Friday.”

That’s why I discourage anybody but the truly determined from taking long-distance trains in Argentina. My friends Darek Przebieda and Analía Rupar of Eureka Travel recommend the Tren Patagónico from Viedma to Bariloche but, even then, they have to admit that the 18-hour trip averages only about 45 km per hour, and a comfortable sleeper bus would cover the distance in half the time. For my part, I’ll stick with an excursion on Esquel’s La Trochita.

Subte's Soaring Fares; Airports & Ash

It’s been hot in Buenos Aires but, of course, that’s not unusual in January. What’s made it hotter is that, with the New Year, the federal government turned over authority to the Subte (the capital’s underground railway) to the city administration of mayor Mauricio Macri, with the knowledge that Subte fares would have to rise. After a city court affirmed the legality of the increase, it has taken effect – in theory.

That’s because employees of Metrovías, the private concessionaire that runs the Subte, object to the fare increase even though it would help pay their salaries. Despite receiving a 200,000-signature petition, Judge Fernando Juan Lima dismissed a legal freeze on fares; in response, the employees have opened the turnstiles between from 7-10 a.m. and 4-7 p.m. weekdays, so that the great majority of city commuters are riding for free. At other hours, riders must pay the 2.50 peso fare, a 127 percent increase over the previous 1.10 peso rate.

That sounds like a lot, but federal government subsidies had maintained the previous rate for years and, even with the peso increases, fares are actually cheaper in dollar terms than they were a decade ago. At that time, with peso at par with the US dollar, the fare was 70 centavos; before the recent peso increase, it was was approximately US$0.25 – that is, in an economy suffering roughly 25 percent inflation (despite official figures of around ten percent), the price of commuting in Buenos Aires had actually fallen by more than 60 percent. Even after the current increase, the fare of US$0.59 represents a fall of more than 15 percent since 2001.

By contrast, fares on the Santiago Metro (pictured immediately above) range from 530 Chilean pesos (US$1.05) to 640 Chilean pesos (US$1.28). Of course, as I’ve written before, Santiago riders are getting more for their money – the Chilean capital’s system is more extensive, and modern, than the Subte. In recent years, the Buenos Aires system has expanded to previously underserved neighborhoods, but it still lags far behind Santiago’s impressive expansion. It’s probably no coincidence that, today, Macri announced the start of construction on six new stations on Línea H, the north-south line (pictured at top) that will help some passengers avoid downtown – until now the only place to change lines easily - and shorten their commute times.

Bariloche Reopens, Shuts, Reopens

At the other end of the transportation spectrum, San Carlos de Bariloche’s Aeropuerto Teniente Candelaria reopened last Friday after being closed for months because of ashfall from Chile’s Puyehue-Cordón Caulle volcanic complex. Local residents had hopes that a restored flight schedule would help kick-start a slow tourist season in one of the Andean lake district’s prime destinations (pictured below). For much of the summer, Buenos Aires passengers have had to land in Neuquén (429 km northeast) or Esquel (290 km south) and continue overland to Bariloche (which, admittedly, is better than a 1,600-km bus ride of up to 25 hours).

As of Monday, though, the wind kicked up enough ash that both Aerolíneas Argentinas and LAN Argentina had to divert their flights once again. Today, flights resumed again, but it wouldn’t be surprising if this pattern continued on and off the entire summer or longer. Volcanoes and other natural phenomena do not respect vacation time.

In Patagonia: a Poorly Planned Road Trip

Last Sunday’s New York Times travel section featured Latin America and, but for a piece on Panamá and brief mentions of Belize and Nicaragua, it’s almost entirely on South America. It goes from the top (Colombia) to the tip (Patagonia), and even included a two-page spread on Suriname, an underrated destination that I once covered for a rival guidebook company whose name is best left unmentioned.

I almost always appreciate coverage of a region that gets so little attention from the mainstream press but, that said, an account of a so-called “road trip” through Argentine Patagonia was a botched opportunity. Author Brienne Walsh planned to drive the legendarily desolate Ruta 40 – which I have described as “Patagonia’s loneliest road” - south from Bariloche to El Calafate. In the article, she claims that a well-known international car rental agency would not allow her and a friend to take their vehicle down the route because of safety concerns, specifically “black ice and potholes.”

That’s not totally unreasonable. While I’ve driven this route at least ten times, I’ve never done so in winter. At the same time, it’s not so much the road conditions – much of Ruta 40 is now well-paved and potholes are fewer even in the remaining gravel sections – as the shortage of services.  Beyond Esquel, about 300 km south of Walsh’s starting point, fuel, food and accommodations are even scarcer than in summer.

Thus, Walsh and her companion had to make the long drive southeast across the steppe from Esquel to Comodoro Rivadavia. Even though they did take advantage of the route to visit the remarkable Bosque Petrificado Sarmiento (pictured above), a fascinating petrified forest, before heading south of Comodoro, they wasted much of the limited winter daylight.

In fact, poor planning caused them to miss at least one major attraction. Their hotel porter in Bariloche suggested they visit Puerto San Julián, which they finally skipped in favor of continuing south to Río Gallegos and El Calafate. I can’t disagree with that, especially in winter, but they totally missed the route’s most appealing destination, the dramatic headlands of wildlife-rich Parque Nacional Monte León (pictured above), midway between San Julián and Río Gallegos. While the wildlife is less abundant in winter, the scenery on this brief detour is still rewarding.

Certainly Walsh and her companion deserve credit for visiting the Moreno Glacier in winter, when there are far fewer visitors. But their trip would have gone much better had they started in Puerto Madryn – gateway to the whale-watching site of Península Valdés (pictured above) – and avoided the long drive across the Patagonian steppe. They could still have detoured to the petrified forest and had time to visit Monte León as well. As it was, poor planning led to lost opportunities.

Moon Handbooks Buenos Aires in Millbrae (San Mateo County)

Thursday September 29 will mark the last of four digital slide presentations on the fourth edition of Moon Handbooks Buenos Aires, at various branches of the San Mateo Public Library. This event starts at 1 p.m. at the Millbrae Library (1 Library Avenue, Millbrae, CA 94030, tel. 650/697-7607). There will be ample time for questions and answers, and books (also including Moon Argentina and Moon Chile) will be on sale (at a discount).

Next month, I will be on the road promoting the new third edition of Moon Handbooks Patagonia. Most of the events will be in the San Francisco Bay Area, but I will also be appearing in Seattle and Bellingham, Washington; Vancouver BC; Santa Fe, New Mexico; and Pasadena, California. Watch this space for details.

Post-Puyehue: the Southern Ski Season

It’s winter in Argentina and Chile, and that means ski season has begun on both sides of the Andes. That said, last month’s eruption of Volcán Puyehue has complicated matters on the Argentine side in particular. With that in mind, I asked David Owen (pictured below, in Argentina), who operates PowderQuest Tours and lives in Pucón, for an update on this season’s snow and skiing in the two Southern Cone countries. The photographs that accompany this post are his.

WBB: In general, what are the conditions on the Argentine side? Is it a matter of snow v. ash, or is there no snow?

David Owen: So far snow has been below normal on both sides of the Andes due to La Niña [climatic conditions]. In Argentina, Chapelco and Las Leñas are open, but with a thin snowpack. The good news is that La Nina apparently is tapering off, and the forecast for precipitation is showing a return to normal. Let's hope this happens quickly.

WBB: Which ski areas are most affected by the ashfall?

David Owen: Cerro Bayo [Villa la Angostura] has seen the worst of it. Cerro Catedral and Chapelco have seen much less ashfall.

WBB: Are the problems on the Argentine side a matter of logistics, i.e. airports and flights, or is it the ski areas themselves? What about ancillary services (hotels, restaurants)?

David Owen: Hotels and restaurants should be operating fine. Their visitor numbers are down 80 percent in June, but they are opening for the ski season. For Cerro Bayo and the town of Villa La Angostura, the problems are both deep ash and logistics. It is a huge mess over there. The Bariloche airport remains closed with a range of rumors that it could open as early as next week or as late as October.

As for Catedral and Bariloche, the issue is more logistics of getting there. I visited the ski area and it had much less ash than the city, and the resort claims they will operate normally. The main issue is the ash on the ground and the winds. When the Patagonian winds pick up, ash and sand gets everywhere including your eyes and lungs. I was there for two days and was ready to leave. I think IF you can get there, AND you can stay at the resort base, it would not be such a bad experience, but staying in downtown Bariloche would not be a very enjoyable experience.

WBB: How would you compare Villa la Angostura and Bariloche v. Chapelco? It sounds to me as if the prevailing winds pushed most of the ash east/southeast from Puyehue.

David Owen: Villa la Angostura got the worst of it. There was close to a foot of ash on the road when I drove over there and everything is covered. Bariloche received much less but nonetheless, when the winds pick up, it causes issues. Chapelco (open for skiing) received much less than Bariloche and the town of San Martin de Los Andes just a dusting.

WBB: Is there skiing at Esquel (admittedly harder to reach than Bariloche without flights)?

David Owen: They plan on operating normally once they have enough snow. I also read that there have been some flights going into Esquel.

WBB: Is Las Leñas, in Argentina’s Mendoza province, open? I presume it would be less vulnerable to the ashfall.

David Owen: Las Leñas is open, and like the Chile ski resorts, has not been affected by ashfall.

WBB: You told me you've moved all programs to the Chilean side. Will there be accommodations shortages because skiers will be coming to Chile instead of Argentina? If so, will this drive up prices? Will skiers have to stay farther away than usual, e.g. in the city of Chillán, rather than Las Trancas valley, for the Nevados de Chillán ski area?

David Owen: We moved all programs to Chile and Las Leñas after my visit to Bariloche last month. There will certainly be shortages in lodging, especially for July and early August and people doing late bookings might expect to stay further away from the resorts due to high demand. We have not seen prices go up at all.

WBB: Are flights into Santiago from North America operating normally?

David Owen: So far yes, flights are operating normally. There have been a few days with delays and cancellations, but more in Buenos Aires. Flights to southern Chile (Temuco and Valdivia) have been seeing cancellations when there is a wind direction switch to the west and north.

Update from Esquel
David briefly mentions Esquel above, but my friend Jorge Miglioli of Hostería Canela provided some additional information on the city, and its Cerro La Hoya ski area, from a few days ago:

“Fortunately we had no ashfall here. So far, we had a nice snowfall a few days ago but need another one to get La Hoya in prime condition. Today Esquel had TWO flights (an unheard of event) because one was bringing in Brazilians to Bariloche. They made the rest of the trip by bus, and it seems this season they will be doing this frequently (Neuquen airport is too far away, and the road is not as scenic and I believe there is still a lot of ash in some places).”

“If we are cut off from the north via airplane, we still have all those people from Comodoro Rivadavia, Trelew, etc. who used to travel by land to ski in Bariloche or Chapelco and maybe prefer to stay at our rather modest (in comparison) ski station instead.”

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