El 6 de Enero

Dreads and a drum cirle. Made me feel right at home.


















A backpacker sleeps next to a waterfront view.














Our neighbors across the street, El Lago Nahuel Huapi, and the mountains surrounding Bariloche. Yep, this is the view I wake up to.

Let me give a little picture of the city:

Bariloche is a bustling little mountain town - hilly, windy, and, like most places outside of High Point, very walkable. It has the distinct outdoorsy vibe of an Asheville and feels about the size of Greensboro. Because January and February is Argentina's holiday season, right now the downtown is a beehive of tourists - mostly Argentinians and a notable contingent of Swiss.

According to my guide book, 97% of Argentinians claim European roots, mostly Italian, Swiss, and Spanish. Unlike Bolivia, where all the women seem to be dark, stout and pig-tailed, Argentina doesn't have much indigenous influence. Here pretty much everyone is white. Still, haven't really found any English-speakers so far.

The "historic" city center is a square of stone buildings, at the center of which stands some man on a horse. He's definitely a colonial figure - looks kinda like Robert E. Lee. His horse has four legs grounded, which is supposed to tell me something.

Anyway, I spent today after class exploring the city, looking for guitar shops and outdoor shops. Realizing that I'm going to do some serious hiking, I'm planning to invest in some gear. And maybe a guitar while I'm at it.