We’re getting used to municipal campgrounds as we dawdle our way to Mendoza. But we are still struggling to learn how to find our way. I know that sounds absurd but constantly fail to stay on the correct path. We call ourselves Team Lost for a reason. Take the entrance to the campground outside the lovely little town of Zapala.
At the time it seemed unhelpful but I forgot I had put the Google pin on the town itself so we arrived in the late afternoon and, slightly puzzled we drove downtown. So the campground is in the middle of the town we said as we drove past storefronts with western style covered boardwalks. It put me in mind of some small town in the American west and I liked it.
In point of fact the campground was outside town a couple of miles and Google knew where it was so off we went, glad our loss of direction gave us a view of a town we might have missed. The problem was how to get into the campground as the front gate looked locked.
We should have stopped sgd checked just as we do when an empanada shop looks abandoned. As often as not they are open.
It look closed so we drive on down a dirt track. Maybe there was another entrance? IOverlander said it was open three weeks ago. Summer is almost over but it’s not yet winter.
We drove all the way round the municipal park looking for the campsite. We passed soccer fields, dog walkers and got tangled in appeared to be a cross country run. Periodically runners appeared from the right and disappeared down a track to the left. What to do? Just park here? Go up the road an hour to the next town? What?
We figured it out. I drove back around the park, partly on tracks not used by cars judging by the startled looks we got and without backing into an algae filled pond until the white gate reappeared as if by magic and I drove up to it.
There was a shall paper notice hanging on it. Only vehicles staying overnight may enter it said. Duh. I unlatched it season we went. Another sign in a bush said please register. We ignored that. Obviously.
We parked in an empty spot after we got a few waves from the Argentines already installed drinking maté and starting a fire for the daily asado, grilled meat. They grill meat every evening in all campgrounds over wood fires. Every campground has solid brick open grills for meat grilling.
Here in Zapala the municipal campground has cement picnic tables and brick grills.
Argentines also love to convert big old buses into campers. Lots of room to store a big steel portable grill. This guy had a motorcycle that the back and a full workshop under one side door. He waved cheerfully as he fiddled with his vice.
We decided to drive an hour to Las Lajas up Ruta 40 to what looked like a grassier campground reportedly with nice facilities. We figured we could take a day to sit around, clean the van and read a book.
More desert of course.
Water for maté. This must be Argentina.
Layne has a Ruta 40 passport book which we bought at mile zero. When we remember she stops to get a tourist stamp. I walk Rusty.
Oh check this out: a tanker. Perhaps it was loaded with the cheaper regular gas which the station didn’t have. I filled up with higher octane fuel because in this country I’ll take what I can get. The attendant told me Chile is 30 miles away and they come over to buy cheap Argentine gas so they run out as they can’t keep up with demand. Bummer.
Las Lajas downtown, the usual nondescript modern functional architecture. By the way we had a false start or two finding the d trance to this campground. Team Lost.
We got there eventually and I will say over two days we saw other campers wandering around lost outside the perimeter just as we had. So there.
Our first day was hot and sunny and we were glad for the shade. I plugged in to the 220 volts with our new Chilean converter to keep the batteries charged and set up Starlink. Rusty made sure to make up for the stress of the driving.
The road past our campsite seems to be a cowboy highway. These are the famous Argentine gauchos with big flat berets, known as some of the best horsemen in the world. Look ‘em up.
Less glamorous but jolly useful were the hot showers in a clean tiled bathhouse.
This one is a pretty nice municipal campground but it’s not free, $16 a night for the two of us and GANNET2 (Rusty sleeps free).
And yes there are big brick grills here too.
Rusty and I went walking.
Day two the weather went nuts and we got 40 mph wind gusts and huge dust clouds blowing through. That was depressing as we spent time earlier dusting our home. There was more bad and good news. Some friends of ours are two days up the road and we planned to meet Sunday.
That’s the good news. The bad news is we have discovered there are 53 miles of gravel between us and them. Apparently Ruta 40 has a hiccough.
We really aren’t looking forward to it as this might take us five hours alone as I refuse to wreck my van driving with impatience. At least we are ready for it. We may get stuck sleeping in the wilderness and I may not have a fresh post for Monday. Driving that stuff is exhausting.
Rusty is lucky as heaviest know what’s coming and he hates noisy thumping gravel as much as I do. His immediate concern was dinner.
