Yesterday I rode the remaining thirty-five kilometres here to Bariloche in the rain. And this morning I awoke to the sound of rain drumming on the roof; though, now at midday it's turned out nice.

Nov 27, Friday: I've been here now four days and I'm keen to get back on the road. I had to get the hub rebuilt, so that accounts for much of the delay. The bikeshop hasn't been straight with me. In fact I think they've pulled the wool over my eyes. It looks for certain that they tampered with the bottom-bracket. I suppect they un-screwed it and left it in a way in which, when I gripped the crank at the pedal end, when in the bikeshop collecting the bike, it didn't turn freely, instead it was rough and tight. It was fine before as it's the kind of thing I do, check for play in the bottom-bracket near enough daily. When I said what was wrong, the bikeshop man put on an act of confusion as if he's trying to hide something, then offered to change the bottom-bracket for a new one; which they did, but I'd have to come back the next day. In the end it looks very like they put the bottom-bracket that had been in the shell all along, back the way they'd found it and charged me for a new one plus labour.

Bariloche is a world away from the area settled by the Welsh to the South; a world away from the usual South America even. Could be Switzerland or the French Alps. And like these places Bariloche's a winter vacation-getaway with skiing at the nearby resort of Cerro Cathedral; as it is, equally, a Summer hiking alternative to the beach holiday, filling up with domestic tourists from Christmas to Febuary. It's also a party-city for students from Buenos Aires. For these reasons there are no end of hostels: the one I'm staying in is called: Gente del Sur, literally, People of the South. But if this was December-January, this hostel would be full and so would every other hostel in town. The only way would be to seccure a bed well in advance of arriving. The city can be avoided when approaching from from the south like I did, by passing a "Centro" arrows-ahead-sign on a roundabout, and follow the by-pass-carrageway right, sign arrowed for Neuquen. If I hadn't of needed work done on the bike thats what I would've done.

Nov 28, Saturday: Good to be leaving Bariloche and be back on the road again. The road went round Lago Naupi Haupi, north east, then north, and after a turn off, north west. I met an American couple on a tamdum, a Dutch couple on individuals, three Argentines and then a Swiss called Hans. He asked "is there anything in Bariloche?" I said "No. It's ver-ry touristy" "Oh I don't like these places" he retorted. While we talked on the roadside, I told him I planned on taking the ferry to a place called Chalten. "It no longer exists!" he said "A volcano erupted last year and again in January this year, and so the government has evacuated the town." I said "I know about the volcano and the evacuation, but I've heard the ferrys were uneffected." Anyway I'll find out when I get there in January.

I decided to take the seven lakes route to San Martin, and as I write I'm camped by the first lake: Lago Esperjo, having covered one hundred kilometres today.

Nov 29, Sunday: The rain came on yesterday evening and it rained much of the night and was still raining this morning; plus it was cold outside the sleeping-bag eating breakfast, so I returned inside the sleeping-bag where I would've remained snug all day and stayed a second night, but it stopped raining at half eleven. The rain didn't stop for long though. It came on a drizzle at one o'clock, after I'd rode up the climb away from my lakeside campsite. It turned out a miserable Sunday afternoon, riding on muddy forest road in misty cold rain. This evening I'm camped at Lago Pichi Trafal.

Nov 30, Monday: The road was extremely mucky this morning until I reached the start of the tarmac at Lago Faukner. The chain could've done with oiling as it was all washed out and dry after yesterday. While climbing away from Lago Faukner, there came on a prolonged heavy shower; and as it was round noon, Is wondering if it continued raining what would I do about stopping for lunch, as unless there's a bus-shelter or such cover, you cannot be preparing and eating sandwiches in the open in pouring rain. However when the rain stopped the wind took over and Is lucky to come to a clump of boulders which I sat in amongst and ate, guarding against plastic bags and light utinsals being blown away.

The afternoon remained dry but stormy, though the wind was in my favour and the sun shone through broken cloud. Then I reached the long sweeping descend, followed by superb vistas over Lago Lacar, as the road carved into the hillside above the lake shore on the last stretch into San Martin de Los Andes.

This evening I've checked into a hostel called: La Puma: the elusive big cat of Argentina. And while cleaning the bike, discovered that the cowboys in the bikeshop in Bariloche, neglected to put the dust-cap back on the hub; meaning, mechanical problems ahead for sure.