As is always the case, it was sad to leave my new compadres behind, but I had to continue making headway down this deceptively massive continent, and wine country was on my mind. While there are several regions in both Argentina and Chile producing exceptional wine, Mendoza is certainly the epicenter. Being relatively close (in Argentina terms) to Buenos Aires, it is a staple in any Argentina visitor’s itinerary, no matter how brief. Aside from sampling the local export, Mendoza also boasts some incredible hiking in the nearby Andes, including Aconcagua, the highest peak in both the Southern and Western Hemispheres. Since Aconcagua requires months of training and about three weeks to summit, I opted for the more leisurely Mendoza program, the highlight of which was Mr. Hugo’s bike tours of the surrounding bodegas. 90% of everyone I had spoken to that had been to South America had done Mr. Hugo’s, even my cousins who traveled the continent some five years ago know about the man, the myth, the legend.

Essentially, Mr. Hugo’s is a bike rental shop where you rent a bike for cheap for the day to go up and down the main road of one of the wine regions in Mendoza, visiting whichever wineries you please. There are several other companies to choose from that offer the exact same services, however, it is Mr. Hugo himself that has enabled his company to build up such a renowned reputation among travelers. The keys to this large jolly man’s operation are both his gregarious personality and the unlimited pours of free table wine he offers his patrons before and after they use his bikes. He refills his pitcher and circles the table, refusing to stop refilling your glass until the third or fourth time you adamantly insist you can have no more. What a wonderful job Mr. Hugo has, getting visitors to his homeland drunk each and everyday and sending them off on a magical bicycle ride… I asked him a little bit about the history of his operation and he seemed genuinely and equally both dumbfounded and grateful as to how he had become so popular. I reassured him in my best inebriated Spanish that it was all because of him and his tipsy baloo-the-bear-like nature. He smiled, gave me a pat on the back and a hefty top-off into my glass. Although I was expecting something a bit more involved from all of the raving reviews I had heard, I was just as pleased to discover that the whole draw of Mr. Hugo’s Bike Tours was just as simple as the gaiety of its owner, Mr. Hugo.

If you make it to Mr. Hugo’s, be sure to stop off at Tempus Alba. We sampled everything they offered and the Tempranillo was the group’s consensus favorite.

While in Mendoza, I had to conduct some serious strategery about where I would head next since I didn’t have any concrete onward plans. I had places in mind I wanted to visit before going to Buenos Aires, but I had no idea where I would actually go or how I would get there. At my hostel in Mendoza I met an Irish couple who told me of a ferry they had taken for four days down the southern coast of Chile, docking at Puerto Natales, a place I was certain I wanted to get to in order to trek in the nearby Torres Del Paine. The ferry left every Friday and the cost was reasonable so I figured this was a good way to give me some direction and I booked it. That gave me about eleven days to get down to where the voyage embarked in Puerto Montt (a shit hole of a town). I did the logical thing and bused across the border to Santiago, a place I unjustly had no real desire to see, and thus, I only stayed one night and continued south to a surf town called Pichilemu.

More often than not it is the people you are with that make certain locations more memorable than others. For me, Pichilemu was not one of those places. Not to say that I didn’t meet lots of great people while I was there, but Pichilemu was just a special little town. I think what makes this place so rad is that it still feels relatively undiscovered, like what spots along the California coast with world class breaks might have felt like fifty or sixty years ago. There are no large hotels and homes, fancy restaurants or even well paved roads near the coastline. This rawness coupled with its natural beauty and amazing surf enables Pichilemu to still maintain its captivating charm. Just a couple kilometers south is Punta Del Lobos, (Point of the Wolves) which produces massive swells and makes an appearance in a number of well known surf videos. It was incredible watching the ballsy effort it took the surfers just to get out to the point, traversing narrow jagged rocks to reach one of the most famous breaks in South America.

The days in Pichilemu started off with breakfast and a coffee on the deck admiring the waves and playing with the local dogs who were the friendliest I’d met on my trip so far. Next up, I would hop on a cruiser and bike around town before paddling out and being happily humbled by the relentless surf. After scarfing down the best burrito I had found in South America, I’d enjoy a few sunset beers with the other lucky few who had also discovered this off the radar spot and then powwow around the fire on the sand. All five days in Pichilemu were spent exactly and perfectly the same. While sipping on a Stella and watching the sun dip below the horizon, I remember thinking to myself that this is somewhere I will definitely be back, a great place to spend a whole summer. I seriously contemplated blowing off my next destination, Pucon, to stay and soak in Pichilemu and Punta Del Lobos for a few more days, but certain that I would return, I moved on.