What is very surprising about Bariloche is that it does not take much to actually get out of town and into, what feels like, the back of beyond. A short local bus ride later, a short spate of gravel road, and another awesome lake, and we were in the tiny little village of Los Coihues.

Dusty roads, a tree as a bus stop and locals who rode horses to chase their cows from one side of their paddock to the other; it was hard to believe that Bariloche was only 15km down the road and where the jet set came to holiday! Where we were and who we were surrounded by was chalk to Bariloche's cheese!

Home for the next few nights was Los Coihues (www.campingloscoihues.com.ar), home to a very motley crew of people ranging from hippies to large extended families and students in between and not another single English person, other than Ing, in sight! This was a place run by a small community of really laid back, but well organised people who's attitude rubs off on everybody around them. With a kitchen that produced giant portions of good home cooking and grass that was a step up from the sands of Puerto Madryn and Gaiman, we felt right at home!

But coming here was just a stepping stone to getting up into the mountains that loomed large over the campsite. With supplies packed, excess kit in the store and a bunch of empanadas for lunch, we set out for Refugio Frey, just a short four hour and 11km walk later.

Was it ever! Somewhere between getting the supplies and packing them, they seemed to take on a massive weight. I am sure that this bottle of water actually weighs far more than 2kg! And that pack of biscuits must weight, at least 10kg! I was like the little donkey weighted down with an enormous burden and my legs were buckling on the flat! What was I going to be like on the ups? Oh dear....

While I was struggling under a load fit for a camel, one thing that I determined about the Argie pathmakers is that they only know one direction. Straight up and straight down. You tend to notice these things when you life starts of seep out of your body and soul as the kilometres seem to stretch upwards and into, what felt like, the clouds!

And since I was having such a brilliant time of heaving a load of bricks and rocks and rubble up a mountain, the Refugio Frey where we were heading decided that this afternoon was the time to play silly b*****s. When I spotted it on a distant vertical displaced horizon, I noticed that it had not moved any closer after one WHOLE hour. I shall leave the choice words that I spoke with force and passion out of this family blog, and rather leave to your imagination! But I was not the happiest trekker in the world (Ed: Yep, I can vouch for that!).

Nor did it help that the wind had decided to, not just blow, but howl down the high peaks channel and focus in the bowl where the refugio was and blow everything flat in its path! To make such a fine day better, the sun had slipped behind the mountains and the temperature was plummeting to near freezing! As this was summer! Just what I needed after being reduced to a pile of gibbering mush and swearing ooze after climbing up Mt Everest with an elephant on my back. Charming.

But once The Pocket Hotel was set in a sheltered spot (yes, I had to build a crude dry wall in a howling gale too.....many talents have I!) and we were safely and snugly inside, the world did not seem so bad! Except we kept wondering whether The Pocket Hotel might well be swept down the mountain side sometime during the night!

Like any good movie where the storm or wind rages through the night, the morning was still, bright and clear. Not a breathe of wind anywhere and stunning scenery to boot! Yesterday was well worth it just for this! Mountain peaks reflected in the mirror still lake waters and as breakfast was eaten, we watched as others skirted the lake and disappeared up and over the lip of the ridge heading toward the next refugio. Poor b*****s. Did they not appreciate the place that they were in? With a good night's sleep and a full stomach, everything was right with the world (Ed: phew!!!)!

Since we are not completely lazy and useless, we decided that we would follow departing groups and see what lay above the lip of the ridge that we had seen everybody disappear over earlier in the day. A short walk and a easy scramble up the crumbling rock, we crested to see a little lake surrounded by yet-to-be melted snow that was drenched in sun, with wind kissed waves lapping on the shore. Simply stunning! What a place to find a spot behind a rock and have a lunch fit for kings......tuna, onion, tomato and sweet corn...all of it balanced very precariously on pieces of crushed sweet bread with water to wash it all down! Bliss.

Since the bowl of mountains that surround the lake are a climbers' mecca, we spent our time resting in the sun and marvelling at how some climbing mad boyfriend's had persuaded their obviously reluctant girlfriends to scale towers and cliffs of rock! I am sure that I saw a few knees knocking from either exhaustion or fear or probably both!

Since the day follows night, it had to be that a clear still day would be followed by a night of the tempest and the banshee! When we arrived here, the wind was merely breezy compared to this! It is a novel feeling to be woken up by the side of your tent whacking you in the face repeatedly as the banshee screams in frustration as it roars down the sides of the mountain bowl and tries to rip tents and its contents from the valley floor! What lent to an almost humanistic feel to the wind's assault was how it seemed to consider the best way into The Pocket Hotel. It was eerie and unsettling to feel the tent assaulted from one quarter and then utter silence as the banshee withdraw re-grouped and then came rushing down another side of the mountain bowl screaming through the cracks and crags promising to batter The Pocket Hotel into submission and us with it! Hour after hour the banshee came and went and eventually gave up in frustration and defeat! The Pocket Hotel was hero of the drag, and cold, miserable, but mercifully calmer morning!

A day of rest, and recovery for my weary legs, at the campsite down below was calling and tomorrow a little light relief was all that we needed to feel slightly more human again! Plus they did some pretty good pizza there too....and it was calling our names!