Hidden among the dusty backroads of San Juan province is a kaleidoscope of colour and adventures galore, writes Vicky Baker (for the Sydney Morning Herald).ARRIVING in Barreal feels like the moment someone refreshed the coloured ink on a fading printer. You start off driving through a monotonous landscape of arid mountains the colour and texture of elephant skin. Then, suddenly, deep-green poplar trees appear from nowhere, mountains take on a lilac hue and rivers run a clear, steely blue. This is nothing compared with the real scene-stealers: seven snow-capped Andean peaks.
The oasis town of Barreal, in west Argentina's San Juan province, has grown in the corridor between the Andes and the Precordillera, creating a sheltered microclimate and its own pace of life. Here, dirt roads carry as many bicycles as cars, and "downtown" is a scattering of low-rise houses and time-warp grocery stores. Only adventurous outsiders have been charmed thus far but that could change, especially since the town is just a five-hour drive from Mendoza city, centre of the wine region.
I'd been told the best way to launch myself into a trip to Barreal was via an adrenalin boost at the town's La Pampa del Leoncito. This ancient, dried-out lake has a cracked-mud bed that turns the colour of Caribbean sand when it catches the sun and a new-found purpose as the venue for the sport of carrovelismo. Imagine a cross between a windsurfer and a go-kart and you start to get the picture.
I signed up with a local company, Wind Car Barreal (+54 264 1543 9647, windcarbarreal @yahoo.com.ar), and found myself paired with the company's most eccentric driver, 65-year-old Maxi. We raced at more than 60km/h, as he whooped and cheered like a small boy.
The key to carrovelismo is to master the area's late-afternoon wind, aptly known as El Conchabado (the servant). Maxi had this down to a fine art, despite having the endearing enthusiasm of a first-timer. I soon found myself whooping along with him as we bombed across the 10 kilometre by five kilometre natural playground. Next, I opted for something more sedate in nearby Parque Nacional El Leoncito. The area received its national park status just eight years ago; before that, it was private land. Last year, Explora Parques (+54 64 503 2008) became the first company allowed to operate horse-riding trips in the park.
We started off surrounded by green grass and bindweed flowers but as we headed into the sienna-coloured mountains, the landscape took on a harsher tone. The only plants were low-level bushes resembling mini-bonfires: some bright orange and flaming, others desiccated and burnt-out.
Barreal is renowned for having ultra-clear, pollution-free skies for about 300 days of the year. Parque Nacional El Leoncito has two astronomical observatories, with Complejo Astronomico El Leoncito the largest of the two, offering evening tours where you get to check out their prized 40-tonne telescope and stargaze with the experts. You can stay the night, provided you don't mind sterile rooms and communal dining harking back to school field trips.
Frustratingly, I turned up on one of the few cloudy days of the year and the night-time tours were off. Still, I wasn't put out by the idea of an early night where I was staying, at the rustic eco-posada El Mercedario, a traditional adobe structure with an organic farm, solar heating and a small orchard of pear, apple and quince trees.
I was about to go to bed, when the clouds parted. In the absence of an official tour, I drove out of town and pulled over after 10 minutes. Above me was a spectacle of sights I've rarely seen: Orion in all his glory, the Milky Way, creeping satellites, a stream of shooting stars. For a moment it seemed like the coloured ink had run out again and all
I could see was the intense contrast between black sky and the distant light of the stars.
Source: http://www.smh.com.au/travel/right-out-of-the-blue-20100729-10xhx.html
