20 hours on the overnight bus to Bariloche wasn't quite as bad as it sounds.. three meals provided, a few movies to watch and comfortable, almost fully reclining seats made it a lot more tolerable. The foreign fella sat across the aisle from me who couldn't speak a word of English, attempted to steal my full bottle of Havana Gold so that livened things up a little. Cheeky........!

Midway through the morning, dozing in and out of consciousness with the first sign of light peeking through the curtains, I woke to some spectacular scenery as the bus snaked its way through the ranges on approach to Bariloche. Sunrise produced a colourful back drop for the low mist settling over the mountains, lakes and surrounding greenery. A complete contrast to the picture of Buenos Aires I had been engrossed in for the previous 2 weeks.

I arrived at the Bariloche Rio Negro Bus Terminal in a daze lost in my own thoughts after the whirlwind of the previous month, wondering what lies ahead of me. It was cold.. much colder than where I'd been previously so it was a shock to the system.

I took a short taxi ride to the centre of town where my hostel for the next three days was awaiting.. Penthouse 1004. By no means a penthouse of lavishness, but in the sense that it took pride of place on the top of a 10 floor block. The incredible views over the whole town, across the huge lake and into mountains in the far away distance did however, resonate with what you'd expect from a 'penthouse'.

With the mentality I was in I knew I had to get myself out and do something active to keep my mind occupied. Dave, who I'd met previously in Brazil, had recommended hiring a bike to take on a 30km tour around the lakes and mountains. With it being a bright sunny day and the forecast not looking so clever for my remaining two days, I knew this was my best chance to check out all this scenery. So I threw my bag in the dorm, and took my tired weary head to catch a rammed local bus 30 minutes out of town.

It had gone midday by the time I'd arrived at the start of the Circuito Chico Adventure where I hired a mountain bike, was given a map and listened to safety instructions given to me by the Spanish speaking Argentinian.. a constant nodding of the head followed by 'si!' seemed to do the trick.

Off I went down the road on a circuit that was impossible to get lost on.. 'just keep following the road until you come back to the same place' was the general gist I got.

I'm not usually one for acknowledging the beauty in scenery, other than the Iguazu Falls which completely blew my mind, but this was pretty special, especially as it was combined with some physical exertion.

Some of the viewpoints from high upon overlooking the huge crystal blue lakes, lush green forests and towering mountains were absolutely stunning.. as were the wooden-clad mansions dotted around the whole circuit.

I was definitely missing life in Buenos Aires but this was a decent alternative. It felt quite liberating to ride in the fresh air through the peaceful mountains and forests where at times I didn't see another person for over half an hour.

Following a beer stop the 3 hour or so ride came to an end and I returned to the hostel on the bus where I met a sound lad called Theo from Stafford.

I was famished having not eaten since my makeshift breakfast on the bus, so I headed out into town where a political protest was taking place in the main square. I checked it out but didn't have a clue what was going on.. just a lot of shouting and Argentinian flags blowing in the breeze.

I delayed the food fix to walk down to the lake, taking a seat on a rock by the waters edge to catch the sun setting over the mountains.. a pretty nice way to wrap up a scenic day.

I had a wander around the town to get my bearings, grabbed a pizza, then had a relatively early night at the hostel.

The next day was as forecast.. dull and quite chilly. With this in mind I used most of the morning/early afternoon to work out my next move away from Bariloche which was a tedious challenge.

It was Saturday, and what were Saturday afternoons invented for? Beer and football! So Theo and I went into town to take back a bit of normality from the travelling lifestyle and become true Brits abroad in a local boozer.

Following a good few scoops of massive litre bottles of Stella while watching the French League Cup and finding out Theo supports the red side of Manchester (somehow managing to not hold it against him) we came back to the hostel for an evening 'Snack Party'. Sounds lame but it turned out to be a lot of fun and a great way to meet the other guests in the hostel.

Later that evening, maybe after midnight and many rum and cokes down, a lad called George from Auckland in New Zealand rocked up. With most the hostel asleep we decided to hit the town and check out the local nightlife. We had a great night and a top laugh.. not realising the time and a little worse for wear we finally wrapped things up around 5am.

Somehow I usually manage to avoid hangovers but man did I feel ropey when I woke up! Theo left that morning so I wished him farewell on his travels.

The weather wasn't so great again and with clouds settling over the mountain tops it may have been pointless to hike up to one of the main viewpoints over Bariloche.. that's what the hangover told me anyway, so I chilled at the hostel for the afternoon in between going for a wander with George.

Not much goes on here on a Sunday, especially if the weather is poor. However, as well as its scenery and hikes, Bariloche is also known for its chocolatiers, but knowing my own out of control sweet tooth it was better I stayed clear. One particular chocolatier was so large that it had an ice rink inside of it.

There was a happy hour at the local brewery bar called Manush so five of us from the hostel got involved and hit the boozer. Five became nine when four other people on their travels joined us.. turned out to be a good night and I called it a day around midnight after we checked out another bar.

I was up relatively early the following morning for the 9.00am bus I had booked for San Martin de los Andes. This would only be a short visit as it was one of only a few indirect routes into Chile where Pucón would be my target destination.

After a 3 and a half hour journey I arrived at the small Argentinian town close to the border of Chile.. the centre had a very similar vibe to that of Bariloche but on a much smaller scale. On the short walk from the bus station to the Puma Hostel where I'd stay for the night I recognised a familiar face walking down the high street with a kayak in hand.. it was Theo. He'd missed his bus the previous day and ended up here instead. After a brief catch up it turned out we'd both be catching the same bus out of here to Pucón the following morning.

I checked into my hostel which seemed pretty decent then decided to take a look at one of the very few things to do in San Martin. There was a short 45 minute hike to Mirador Bandurrias which was a viewpoint over the town. Headphones in and trainers on.. the hike up through the forest was practically deserted, as were the viewpoints, I only saw a handful of people along the way.

Again, like Bariloche, the views over the lake into distant mountains were pretty awesome. I sat on a rock at the top of the Mirador and took in the beauty of my surroundings but for me after a while it all gets a bit too samey.. I'm sure the purists would appreciate it much more than I.

Today was a significant day as it marked my first day without drinking some form of alcoholic beverage.. a 7 week stretch which is absolutely ridiculous for someone who usually only drinks at weekends. I was glad to break the mould and had a very relaxed evening at the hostel where I sought a good nights sleep due to the early morning bus ride at 6.00am. The fat lad snoring in my dorm, thin walls and floors, ridiculously loud idiots shouting and screaming in the dorm above and an unwillingness from the staff to do anything about it put an end to my plan.

Now in the early hours of Tuesday morning with very little chance of getting any shut-eye I prepared myself for going straight through until the bus departed at 6.00am. I got dressed, took my bags into the deserted common room/kitchen area and led on a bench in attempt to make some sort of point, much to the bemusement of the night staff.

These are the times when you're sleep deprived, alone, in the middle of nowhere, and in a non-responsive, crappy hostel which tests your true travelling metal.

Pucón in a few hours time...

Sleep well.. yeah right! xx