Route 40, South

Finally, we set out to do what we came here for, the long march down to the end of the world. This is the famous Ruta 40, the southern half of the trans-American highway, Che Guevara's revolutionary road.

Three hours of southward driving brought us back to our original point of Bariloche, and although dusk was setting in, we agreed to push on further. Symbolically, as Graham rightly pointed out, it made a difference to get out of the lake district - it felt like we were finally moving and no longer just 'dicking around'. Once past Bariloche, the terrain changes with sudden and dramatic effect. One minute you are in the serene confines of hobbit land, the next you are staring in complete awe at the jagged incisors of big, big mountain country.

I had read somewhere that the drive from Bariloche to Esquel offers the sort of scenery you can only have in Patagonia, or perhaps Alaska. The Alps are certainly stunning, but can't match this in terms of scale. Although Graham had the wheel, I was glad not to be driving because the entire view, and not just the road, is what this stretch is all about. You have to look up, down, across, left and right to appreciate this road in its fullness and understand why Grand Tourismo video games always have a circuit reserved for 'Patagonia'. Almost every bend produced a gasp. The road itself seemed to be going perpetually downwards. Just when we thought the next bend would bring a bit of a climb, we went further down still, which had the effect of making the mountains seem bigger and bigger, the deeper we went. It has been one of the main highlights of this trip so far.

Pedantically, I would also just like to point out that the really jaw-dropping part is only from Bariloche to the hippy town, El Bolson. From El Bolson to Esquel, though still scenic, both the road and mountains mellow out.