We drove out to Llao Llao, a picturesque town with a huge 5-star resort hotel of the same name, complete with an 18-hole golf course. There are some who think Germans escaping the hunt for Nazis settled or hid out here. The area certainly has the European alpine flavor to it and we saw more Caucasians here than we'd seen anywhere else. This view is what we had from where we parked overnight. Gorgeous.
Across the road was this view, with the building blocking the view of the marina with big tourist catamarans in it.
This old wooden chapel, Parroquia San Eduardo, was across the road from us, too. It dates back to 1938 and is getting a new roof now.
From the chapel door, you can see the humongous Resort Llao Llao, the most exclusive 5-star resort in Argentina. You can't even drive up the driveway unless you have a hotel or restaurant reservation.
The front of the chapel at the top of the stairs. All wood, stone and glass.
Some of these bright yellow bushes have red-orange tongues of color on the blooms. Stunning in color and number.
A closeup of an Arrayan tree with its cinnamon and cream bark. Also known as the Chilean Myrtle tree. Big ones also have gnarly, knotty trunks that make it a spectacle to see in a forest.
A hike up through the Cerro Llao Llao park gives you this as a view.
And this when you get near the top! This is pretty Patagonia at its best!
Jason taking a breath on the hike up. A perfect day for the walk.
I got too hot for the sweatshirt and the long-sleeved shirt on the climb up. Nice backdrop.
Karen at the top. Sweating to beat the band.
Same view without a human, from a bit higher up.
Looking in a different direction, there are more mountains and lakes, of course.
Looking down the length of the lake.
Still a few glaciers up on those peaks
Jason walked to the very top while I rested on the rocks.
My views as I waited for his return. Not bad, eh?
Looking up the lake.
Another look down the lake in the other direction from the same spot. It's a big lake.
Trees in bloom in a low spot on the hiking trail. White and pink blossoms smelled wonderful and big bumblebees were visiting the blooms. You could stand still and hear the buzzing.
A view as we drove in/out of the little mountain towns.
The yellow-flowered bushes made a nice contrast to the blue and white of mountains and snow and lakes as we drove along.
Blue, white, yellow and green from Mother Nature. A pleasant palette of colors to drive by.
Karen and a mountain lake in Patagonia, Argentina.
You can see the green and rust colored bands in these mountains.
A waterfall coming down next to the road.
The water is a clear, pale aqua-grey and is being routed along the road to a culvert behind YOLO.
We drove past a burned out area from a forest fire, with a glacier on a mountain in the background. Still heading south on Route 40.
We stayed overnight on this river overlook. Several braids of the river come together here and the water rushing could be heard all night. Lovely, that same grey-green.
Jason enjoying the afternoon sun along the river. It got cold as soon as the sun disappeared, though.
Looking down the river from the bridge near where we parked.
Looking upriver at the bridge, you can better see the color of the water. Different light makes the colors so different.
We saw an item on Maps that indicated a flour mill near here, so we decided to stop for lunch. A local restauranteur at first seemed confused by my question about the location of the mill, then pointed us down a steep dirt road. We left the van at the top and walked over a mile downhill to find it. Along the way, these tube-like purple blooms on a bush had attracted the giant bumblebee.
Jason taking a whiff of the bright yellow blooms that are so pretty right now.
A bush full of the red and yellow variety.
This mural was on one wall of the flour mill we sought. It was closed, unfortunately, and a couple of locals here indicated it was run by the municipality and was only open on certain days.The mural shows bees and wheat grains.
The sign for the flour mill of Epuyen.
I cleared a small area of a back window with a fingertip and spit; inside looked like everything was still covered in flour.
We drove on to find a spot to park for the night and escape the winds. We turned off Route 40 to go to a small town called Esquel, where a 101-year-old train still runs. Jason is somewhat of a fan of trains, so we headed over there to check it out and find a place to stay. The Axion station was our home for the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment