Man oh man. What a month.

Ma and Pops came down for some farmin and backpackin. After a few days in Tunuyan, we hightailed down to San Martin de los Andes, Bariloche, and El Bolson, then back up for another few in Tunuyan and Manzano Historico. Turns out travelling with your folks ain´t so bad afterall. They both ditched their cases and lived for nearly two weeks out of small daypacks. Of course, I had the larger pack with quite a few larger essentials of their´s (shoes, warm jackets, make-up (Mom´s of course; despite various circulating rumors the Colonel does not, in fact, wear make-up)) but regardless they did well. More than well. Above all they treated me to such Patagonian regional delights as trout, wild boar, sheep and deer, plus microbrewed brews and much wine. Throw in warm showers, cute hosterias and fancy buses, and all possible complaints get thrown out with the cans of tuna and shitty hostels.

Note to other young, supposedly broken-free and liberated South American traveller: it ain´t so bad inviting your parents down for a short visit.

Next stop was the Andes. 4300 meters up in the Andes, complete with snow, howling winds and a touch of altitude sickness and/or a bug from an undercooked asado. Speaking of which, when embarking on multi-day treks in mountains, always invite at least one Argentine. All mountains bound Argentines come with mules, horses, meat and wine. Not a bad way to hike at all. But you can´t blame a kid whose never been nearly as high for getting a little tummy and head ache. And because I charged, denying offers to mount a horse. We spent the first night at 3000 m in a refugio to rest up for a nine hour walk up and through EL Portillo, the 4300m pass, then down into a river valley called El Real Cruz to stay at another refugio. There we spent the next day collecting sorting garbage, exploring, and eating more asado. Then it was back out again, another 8 hours back from where we came through slushy melted snow and ice. I´ve never been so challenged both physically and mentally.

And now I´ve got the bug. Trying the cram in as much of the Andes as possible while cruising down and up to and from Ushuaia. We´re in Bariloche at a campsite outside of town right now waiting for Brux and Robin.

And yes, Sancho Panza is along for the adventure! He´s managed to escape several times from various makeshift transportation homes. Turns out he can chew not only through linens but plastic bottles as well. We woke up thrice on the busride from Mendoza to Bariloche with La Panza crawling around us. Last night he got himself stuck halfway out a chewed-open airhole in a plastic water bottle. Poor guy. Today we´re looking for a better more durable and breathable option. Otherwise he loves exploring sites on our shoulders or in our hairs. He´s quite the traveller.

Pic A Ture time.