I don’t think I saw anything at all really of Mendoza. I drove into it at night and left it in the morning. I didn’t find the people as friendly as other places in Argentina but I’m sure it was worth at least two nights stay. However, now that I’ve booked a flight (Buenos Aires to Los Angeles) I have a fixed schedule to adhere to. That schedule included getting to Valparaiso in Chile. I was somewhat dreading crossing the Andes again as it’s cold enough in the lowlands of central Argentina at this time of year.
I decided to take the old route to get to the border as I was feeling a bit bored by all this perfect Argentinian pavement and wanted some time in the mountains. It had lots of good warning signs at the beginning – mostly telling you it was unnecessary to take this route, risky, and the government wasn’t taking any responsibility for your idiotic choice of taking that road. It wasn’t really anything compared to any Bolivian (non-Pan Americana route).
It did lead to some views of the southern and western hemispheres highest mountain – Aconcagua, as well as some interesting historical markers (e.g. original communications tower for Chile-Argentine communications). And views of the now-ubiquitous painted rocks.
After getting near the border I stopped at the so-called Inca Bridge a formation thought to have been created by ice and the mineral rich water run-off. It’s strikingly ugly.
I saw two other bikers who later drove over to me and asked me to join them as we headed for the border. We ended up taking a small detour to the Aconcagua park entrance as well as a trip up to 4,000m along the old Chilean-Argentinian border road (now replaced by a tunnel).
After a rather extended list of stamps, signatures, and counter-stamps from the Argentinian and Chilean officials (all sitting in a row in the same building behind windows) I managed to get my bike inspected and enter Chile for the second time. The Chilean road descended abruptly with 26 switchbacks all crawling with trucks.
I drove through warm! avocado growing lowlands but soon found it getting foggy as I approached Valparaiso on the coast. Valparaiso is a scandalously grubby, bohemian, and romantic place. There are small armies of rabid packs of dogs – say a terrier, a labrador, and an oversized poodle, and four mutts accost you with vicious barking or just defecating on most available pavement space. The narrow long staircases smell like urine and there are lots of areas the locals will tell you are muy peligroso (‘very dangerous’).
But, it’s moody, poetic, and beautiful as well. Perfect for walking around, eating in good restaurants, and mulling things over in general. The city has a number of funiculars to move people up and down the hilly cerros that reach almost to the water. It feels like Havana without the sultry failed resignation or San Francisco without the latte-toting self-importance. Quiet, arty, and bohemian – it’s a pleasure to visit.
I’m staying at the La Maison Du Filou Galos for 10,000 pesos (~20 USD) and I’m slightly unsettled to read two guest reviews of the place on TripAdvisor accusing the owner of thieving from them. No such thing has happened to me and I’m quite enjoying the hotel (although guarding my bills) – it suits ‘Valpo’ very well.
My GPS power supply on the motorbike wasn’t working again, so the mapping is not complete…














