Deep Vein Thrombosis?

Not sure if I've complianed enough about bus journeys yet ... if not, I apologise. I will do my best to rectify this in the next few posts because, recently, we've been on some seriously long uns. The one in question went like this:

Puerto Natales - El Calafate = 7 hours
El Calafate - Glacier = 4 hours roundtrip
El Calafate - Rio Gallegos = 4 hours
Rio Gallegos - Comodoro Riviera = 12 hours
Comodoro Riviera - El Bolson = 12 hours

Took 2 days, with very few breaks. The result: pins and needles down my right hand side, and one extremely swollen ankle. I only noticed this when we arrived at our hostel in El Bolson, and just in case, got Liz to look up DVT in the Lonely Planet. It said, and I quote:

"The chief symptom of Deep Vein Thrombosis is swelling or pain of the foot, ankle or calf usually on just one side ... Travelers who have any of these symptoms should immediately seek medical attention."

Aaaaaaa! Cue lots of taking of painkillers, lying with my feet in the air and general panic. Before calling the ambulance we decided it sensible if Liz did a bit more research on the internet. Turns out DVT usually only occurs in unfit individuals over 40, and that swollen ankles are very common after a long bus ride. Looks like Lonely Planet are up to their old scaremongering techniques again.

So ... well ... yes this post is actually supposed to be about our time in El Bolson, so I'd better get on with that. El Bolson is a very chilled out hippie kind of town, set in a valley, flanked by two vast, picturesque mountain ranges. Once again we had limited time there, so decided to rent bikes and go on an action packed cycle ride to see the sacred "Indian Head" occuring naturally in the rock above El Bolson.

The Lonely Planet said it was an simple 10k hike from town, so we were expecting a nice and easy cycle to clear the cobwebs from our long bus ride. Unfortunately this "simple" 10k hike was on a near verticle dirt track, making cycling impossible to all but Tour de France champions. Soon we were walking the bikes up the especially steep sections, cycling only when possible. Then, on a rare flat section, Liz's bike broke. We're talking chain-wrapped-around-the-spokes, wheel-completely-off-centre, full-on-comedy broke. I was ahead at this point and so didn't see what happened, but Liz still claims to this day that: "all I was trying to do was change gears, then it started making a funny noise and then it broke". Hmmmmmmm ...

Anyway, we locked up the bikes where they stood, and set off on foot on the steep winding dirt track. An hour-and-a-half later, covered in dust and dirt, we arrived at the famous "Indian Head". Impressive? Judge for yourselves - that's it there just above my hand in the picture at the top of this post. I think the jury's still out on that one. Fortunately the views of El Bolson and the valley below were supurb, so the walk/cycle was worth it in the end ... just.

Somehow we managed to take a different route back, which would've been fine, except that we arrived in town with our bikes still half-way up the mountain. The walk up, and the subsequent walk down with the broken bikes became less and less funny as every minute passed. The rental man didn't charge us for the broken bike though which softened the blow a little.

The next day we decided to stay as close to our hostel as possible, and visit the arts, crafts and organic food fair. As you can see in the photo above, this was a much more successful excursion. Waffles with strawberries and cream. Mmmmmmm ....