The newly-discovered impossibility of getting to Antarctica made me think once more about a possible attempt on Aconcagua. This evidently required a trip over the Andes to Mendoza in Argentina. There appeared to be additional reasons to visit Mendoza, being in the wine growing area of the country.

So, early in the morning of 31st Jan, I headed to the North Terminal in the hope of buying a bus ticket to Mendoza. No such luck – everything was full for the rest of the day. The only option that day was a shared taxi from the south terminal as far as the border, costing $20. This seemed a lot, but I didn’t want to waste a day. I had to change more money, and at the same time went to the post office to double check for more mail. A letter from my sister in Bedfordshire was waiting for me, which put me in a better mood. I also sent off the films that I had processed, by registered mail. So far everything I’ve sent seems to have arrived…

After checking out of the hotel, I caught the nice modern metro down to the south terminal, and was soon getting into a taxi with 2 Argentineans and an Italian. The 160 km ride up to the Argentine border was spectacular, zigzagging up the final section. At the police post, we had to get out and walk the rest of the way to the Chilean customs post. A little past this, I figured I might try to hitch a ride…

Before long, a large jeep stopped and a friendly family from Buenos Aires invited me to travel with them to Mendoza. The conversation was lively. At one point I commented that it was great to find that Argentineans were friendly towards someone from the UK, and they said “Oh… that’s right – we aren’t supposed to be nice you, are we?!” and then laughed. Not only did they take me on the 3 hour trip to the edge of Mendoza but they also gave me the bus fare from where they stopped to get me into the centre of the city. I found a recommended hotel, and a good value “menu” for dinner.

In the morning (1st Feb) I headed to the tourist office to ask about Aconcagua and was directed to a company called Andesport, which runs guided ascents. There I asked about what I would need to do to climb Aconcagua. The answer was not encouraging, and the objective actually appeared to be to dissuade me from proceeding any further with the ambitious plan that I have been concocting over the last few days…

“Es muy muy muy frio…”, the Argentine mountain guide was saying to me in slow Spanish, which I found all too easy to understand : “…it’s very very very cold..”.   This guide was clearly accustomed to foreign backpackers, such as me, wandering into his shop and naively asking for advice on how best to squeeze a quick ascent of Aconcagua in to their travel itinerary.   He was therefore well practiced in conveying, to all but the most promising candidates, that a failure to conquer the highest summit in the Andes does not necessarily make a tour of South America incomplete.   In my case however, I was sufficiently insistent for him to have to go to level 2 of the tactful dissuasion process, helped by a map that was supposed to demonstrate the magnitude of the undertaking:

My problem is, of course, that I delighted myself by climbing solo to the summit of Tungurahua, in Ecuador.  Tungurahua thus became the highest mountain I have ever climbed, and this ego-boost made me enthusiastic about reaching yet greater heights in the Southern Andes. Especially tantalising is the fact that at 6960 metres (22,850 feet) Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the world outside the Himalayas / Karakoram, yet it is apparently not technical, and I am here at the perfect time of year… 

The patient mountain guide confirmed that mid January to mid February is indeed the best time for an attempt, because at other times of year snow and jetstream winds usually make it impossible to reach the summit.  However he explained that his brother, who happens to hold the current record for the fastest ascent of Aconcagua, has recently returned from the summit, reporting that he had found the conditions desperately cold – the short summer climbing season seems to be finishing early.  In any case, it was stressed to me that even in good weather it is absolutely vital (“…fun-de-men-tal…”) to wear double thickness high altitude plastic boots, which I would clearly have to rent, along with down clothing, a strong tent, and a multitude of other things.

This all sounded rather discouraging, but what finally made me decide to leave Aconcagua for another occasion was when I was told that to have any chance of reaching the summit I would have to devote 15 to 20 days to the project.  Even the walk-in to the Base Camp, a spot known as Plaza de Mulas, would apparently take me 3 days.  I only have 33 more days before I am due to fly to New Zealand.  In that time I want to see the Chilean/Argentine Lake District, Buenos Aires and several other places in Argentina, and make it right down to Tierra del Fuego. 

So I have decided that reaching the American continent’s southernmost point will have to compensate for not reaching the continent’s highest point.

On the way back from Andesport I noticed a bit of a commotion outside the office of Los Andes newspaper, where there was a display apparently of the current exchange rate. Several grey haired men were standing looking worriedly at the information in front of them. The currency is the Austral, which has been fluctuating rather dramatically due to hyperinflation.

I found a cheaper hotel and moved there, and then investigated visiting local wineries. The information office first told me to go and visit the San Martín Park, which has a hill with a small zoo on it. An open-topped bus took me back to the bus station where I got another bus out to the Giol Winery, in the suburb of Maipú, which is apparently famous for having been the largest winery in the world at some point. I joined a tour to see the wine making facilities, and was given plenty of wine to taste at the end of it.

Later, back in the centre of Mendoza I found that the good value “menu” of the previous evening wasn’t available for some reason, but a nearby restaurant had a better value meal which included local wine. Wandering round afterwards I had an ice cream, and immediately decided that Argentinean ice cream is seriously good! David, the ice cream seller, was friendly and kept me talking about my travels for much longer than the time needed to eat the ice cream he’d sold me.