Rosario was nice but our room was expensive so we opted to give Cordoba a shot-we had heard good things. We made it to Cordoba without any difficulty and set about our normal routine of finding accomodation and information about what was on in Cordoba. We found a nice cheap hostel a few blocks away from the bus station and settled into Cordoba on Monday May 01 or Mayday the world over (except in the United States where labour Day is celebrated in September). Essentially, the holiday meant that everything in the city would be closed for the evening, including most restaurants and groceries.
Fair enough. We asked our friendly hostel owner for a recomendation and she pointed us in the direction of a tenador libre (all you can eat) joint on the main drag. We walked our way over to the restaurant a bit early-by Argentine standards-just prior to 8pm. The restaurant was not yet open for dinner but the good news was that it soon would be and the place looked phat. So Mosey and I wondered the streets for a bit longer until we came across some BMXers and skateboarders performing tricks on the stairs of a public building. We sat and watched their antics for about 15 minutes before heading back to the restaurant to get our grub on. What can I say? This all you can eat buffet was by far the best buffet I have ever had the pleasure to go glutton (Las Vegas aint got shit on this place). There was an entire section for meat (Argentinia stylie) a huge salad bar, a pasta bar, a Chinese food section, a stir fry counter, a fried foods bar (with onion rings!), deli meats, breads, fruit, and a desert bar with an entire section dedicated to ice cream another to crepes and another to cakes and crap. All for 18 pesos or about $6 US. In a word, it was awesome. In my time in Argentina I had become a sort of world travel sport eater-no I could not stuff hot dogs down my troat in another country on their independence day and win their stupid race, I am not Japanese and I was not in the states. Lets just say I have definitely gained back the weight I lost in India. On that night in Cordoba it was my night to shine. Of course, I could barely walk out of the place and would pay for hours with a stomache from hell but it was worth it. Worth it so much indeed that we returned the next night so we could try all the things there was no room for the night before. LOL! While we were in Cordoba we did not just eat we did take a little time to wonder the streets, view the main square and cathederal, shop, and stopped in at a few museums. After just two days we were bored and despite our recent heavy travel, ready to move on to the North West of Argintina and the city of Salta. So we hopped yet another night bus this time to Salta.
We arrived early in the morning and were immediately approached by the standard group of hostel touts. We eventually settled on one of the places being touted and got a free taxi ride out to the place. What a dump! The people were swell and all but our room was scarry. There were holes in the floor that went to who knows where, the beds were lumpy, there was no curtain on the windows, we could not lock our door and you had to be a rocket scientist to get hot water in the shower. Nuts! We decided one night would be enough and that we would move the next day. We hit the internet to do a little research and found a place not far away. A brief visit and view of the rooms and we knew we had found the right place to base ourselves to explore the Salta region. Los Cordones hostel is owned by a German cat and his young Argentine bride. They are very cool and welcomed us into a nice clean spacious room (with locks!). After moving our gear Amy and I set out to explore the city and had a good time doing so. The next day we visited one of the near by villages and had another good time. Finally we had found a place where we could spend a few days without having to take an overnight bus. On May 06 we celebrated my 31 birthday with the owners of the hostel who kindly contributed a bottle of champagn and some beer to go with the cake Amy bought. Properly loaded- mean fortified-Amy then took me out for a great dinner at one of the local restaurants. Another great birthday on the road. The next day we woke up early and hopped a bus out to Cafayate where we spent three days taking in the wine bodegas and amazing scenery. We also met a very kind (of course) Kiwi, some cool French folks, and a nice couple from Manitoba, Canada. The landscape around Cafayate is not unlike the deserts of Arizona or the mountains that are a 15 minute drive outside of Las Vegas (yes, it is true, there are mountains just outside of Las Vegas and they are amazingly beautiful. Who would have thunk it?). We spent one afternoon on a tour of the specific sites. It was swell. From Cafayate we tried to find a way to Cachi to the North on what is supposed to be one of Argentinas most spectacular drives but alas there was no way of arranging it. So we had to go back to Salta for a night and then hop another bus to Cachi the next day. This time we left a bunch of our gear Salta and it made traveling to Cachi much lighter. Cachi is more of the same as Cafayate and after two days we were ready to get back to Salta and prepare for our journey North to Bolivia. We were sad to be leaving the kind folks at Los Cordones hostel behind us but we had to get going and so we headed up the road another 4 hours to a pleasant little village called Tilcara. The drive to Tilcara was breath taking and the village itself is quite picturesque. We found a good hostel and immediately set out and about exploring the excellent Archiology museum and some near by ruins. The next day we did a hike in to the glorious desert mountains that flank the city on all sides. It was brilliant. After three days we were ready to leave Argentina for good so on May 16 with only 31 days until our flight back to the states we took a bus north to the frontier.
We made it to the shitty little frontier village and some how I became leader of the gringo boarder crossing contingent-probably because I asked for directions to the boarder crossing at the information stand. There we were, MoWenck, another gringo and gringo couple all walking the 5 blocks to the boarder crossing, me in the lead but not really sure where I am going (my spanish has not improved much since say, Peru!). Anyway, we make it across the boarder and Mo even manages to change here remaining Argentine pesos for Bolivianos. Now what? Our plan was to make it to a city called Tupiza, 3 hours to the North where we can join a South West circuit tour of Bolivia´s high desert plains and salt flats. We quickly befriend the other gringo couple (Johnny and Birgitta from Sweeden) by sharing a taxi to the train station. On our way there however, the taxi driver informs us there is no train to Tupiza today and that we need to go to the bus terminal instead. So, he drops us there instead. We are in luck, there is a bus going to Tupiza in 2 hours, just enough time for a beer and internet session before we depart. Finally we get on the bus and we are on our way, look out Tupiza here we come! Nothing can stop us now! After about 4 miles we come to a stop: our first Bolivian road block. It seems the local folks blocking the road wanted to draw attention to some unfair agreements with their capitalist pig imperialist neighbor to the north (USA). I decided to stay far away from the fireworks as the drivers of about 30 buses and lorries argued with the people providing the road block. We were stuck until they road blockers decided to relent-something that would not happen for another 3 hours. Ugh! After all that we finally got moving again but it was dusk and there was no view to be seen (the drive is supposed to be spectacular). We arrived in Tupiza just after 8pm and with the Sweeds we found a room at a pretty nice local hotel (30 Bolivianos/person/night with breakfast or $3.75 US). The next day we arranged to go on a South West Circuit tour that would end in Uyuni after spending a day on the famous salt flats (and 3 other days exploring the Andes desert of SW Bolivia). We would be on the tour with the Sweeds and 2 other people to be named later. After arranging the tour Amy and I explored some trails around the city before coming back to the hotel to watch Arsenal lose to FC Barcelona in the European Champions League series. It was a good game. The next morning we set out on our SouthWest Circuit tour at 0900. I will catch you up on that one another time.
Sorry this has been such a boring dry blog, the experiences have been anything but boring and or dry, but I am just a bit tired right now. Must be my old age.
Before we got to Colonia Pelligrini, we had to spend the night in Mercedes. It was a nice little town with old men strutting around in their gaucho gear - wide black leather belts with big silver buckles, those berret looking floppy hats, MC Hammer pants tucked into black leather boots (rounded toes, not those pointy types like in Texas). Sounds flash - and some were - but it was authentic.
That's what they wore when they got dressed up if you are a real gaucho. We saw some real cowboys at work when we drove out of Colonia Pelligrini to Posada. They were herding a group of cattle, and one cow was running away from the rest of the herd, making a break for it. So one of the cowboys had to chase it on horseback through the tall weeds and shrub holding on tight with one hand while the other whipped the horse's ass with the reins. They had on regular clothes, jeans and regular cotton shirts, nothing fancy cause they were working - makes sense.
But in Mercedes, in the morning, we were walking around trying to find breakfast. It was a Sunday or it was too early, one of the two or both, so we had a hard time finding anything open. We saw a raggedy lady with a dirty short dress on, carrying a bag of bread. Tyler noticed her because she was carrying the bread around like she was all proud of it, and we wanted to find a panaderia (a bakery). And I think she was walking in the middle of the street, but that was not that strange since there was not much traffic. We saw her walk past us, and we kept walking. But the bark of dogs made us turn around. And that crazy lady was standing in the street facing a house with these 3 big black dogs behind bars barking their heads off at her. She is taunting them with her bag of bread, sticking her tongue out, going na na na. Ok, whatever. But then she lifts up her dress, totally without any underwear, and she shows her crotch to the dogs! Then she resumes taunting them with the bread. We keep walking, but when I turn around again, I see her lifting her dress to moon the dogs. She's shaking her big flat pale butt and patting it at the dogs, thoroughly enjoying it seemingly! When we left she was still at it. Yup, there are nuts everywhere. I felt at home, like we were back in Berkeley. LOL!
Here is my reading list from our travels. I failed to record a few authors/titles that I read in Malaysia and Oz but otherwise the list is complete. I still pride myself as one of the few people on earth who has not read anything by Dan Brown nor a single book in the Harry Potter series. English titles are getting more and more scarce down here, so lets hope I can keep it that way.
1. Catch-22 -Joseph Heller
2. Desolation Angels -Jack Kerouac
3 Yoga For People Who Don’t Have Time To Do It -Geoffry Dyer
4 Siddhartha -Hermann Hess
5 Memoirs of a Geisha -Arthur Golden
6 Fever Pitch! -Nick Hornby
7 Crime and Punishment -Fyodor Dostoevsky
8 For Whom The Bell Tolls -Ernest M. Hemmingway
9 Red Harvest -Daishel Hammet
10 The Long Firm -Jake Arnott
11 Men Without Women -Ernest M. Hemmingway
12 Brighten Rock -Grahm Greene
13 The Human Factor -Grahm Greene
14 How To Be Good -Nick Hornby
15 The Sun Also Rises -Ernest M. Hemmingway
16 La Bete Humaine -Emile Zola
17 The Last Of The Mohicans -James Fennimore Cooper
18 Slaughter House 5 -Kurt Vannugert
19 The Unbearable Lightness of Being -Milan Kundera
20 The Power of One -Bryce Courtenay
21 Tent of Miracles -Jorge Amodo
22 One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest -Ken Kesey
23 The Joke -Milan Kundera
24 The Pickwick Papers -Charles Dickens
25 How We Live -Sherwin B. Nuland
26 To Have and Have Not -Ernest Hemmingway
27 Gabriella, Clove and Cinnemon -Jorge Armado
28 Pastures of Heaven -John Steinbeck
29 The Brothers Karamazov -Fyodor Dostoyevsky
30 Laughable Loves -Milan Kundera
31 Debits and Credits -Rudyard Kipling
32 He Kills Coppers -Jake Arnot
33. Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands -Jorge Armado
34. Travels With Charley -John Steinbeck
35. Autumn Of The Patriarch -Gabriel Garcia Marquez
36. Winner Take Nothing -Ernest Hemmingway
37. The Best of Road Dahl -Road Dahl
38. Those Barren Leaves -Aldous Huxley
39. The Winter of Our Discontent -John Steinbeck
40. Tereza Batista: Home From The Wars -Jorge Armado
41. Islands In The Stream -Ernest Hemmingway
42. Treasure Island -R.L. Stevenson
43. The Old Man And The Sea -Ernest Hemmingway
44. Truecrime -Jake Arnott
45. The Idiot -Fyodor Dostoyvsky
46. Lullaby -Chuck Palahniuk
47. Steppenwolf -Hermann Hesse
48. Shardik -Richard Adams
49. Watership Down -Richard Adams
50. The Red Pony -John Steinbeck
51. Not Fade Away -Jim Dodge
52. The Philanderer -Stanley Kauffmann
53. Jailbird -Kurt Vonnegut
54. The Client -John Grisham
55. Barchester Towers -Anthony Trollope
56. Tangi -Witi Ihimaera
57. Whanu -Witi Ihimaera
58. The Copper Beech -Maeve Binchy
59. Thunder Road -Ted Dawes
60. The Matriarch -Witi Ihimaera
61. The Catcher in the Rye -JD Salinger
62. You Shall KNow Our Velocity -Dave Eggers
63. The Glass Key -Dashiell Hammett
64. The Bell -Iris Murdoch
65. The Torrent of Spring -Ernest Hemmingway
66. Wuthering Heights -Emily Bronte
67. The Black Pharaoh -Christian Jacq
68. The Glass Bead Game -Herman Hesse
69. Scarlet Feather -Maeve Binchy
70. The Best A Man Can Get -John O'farrel
71. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil -John Berendt
72. Narziss and Goldmund -Hermann Hesse
73. Satanic Verses -Salmon Rushdie
74. A Farewell to Arms -Ernest Hemmingway
75. Vernon God Little -ABC Pierce?
76. The Long Valley -John Steinbeck
77. Stranger in a Strange Land -Robert Heinlein
78. 1984 -George Orwell
79. California Bloodstock -John Mconnell
80. Daughter of Fortune -Isabel Allende
81. The Bean Trees -Barbara Kingsolver
82. Home is the Sailor -Jorge Amado
83. The Group -Mary McCarthy
84. The Alchemist -Paulo Coehlo
85. This Side of Brightness -Colum McCann
86. Anywhere But Here Mona Simpson
87. Das Boot -Lothar-Gunther Buchheim
88. The Food of Love -Anthony Capella
89. Farm Invasions in Zimbabwe -Luke Zungar
90. Tuesdays With Morrie -Mitch Albom
91. Warden -Anthony Trollope
92. Mans Hope -Andre Malraux
93. Snow Falling On Cedars
94. The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald
95. In America Susan Sarong
96. Motorcycle Diaries Ernesto "Che" Guevara
97. Searching for Steinbeck's Sea of Cortez Andromeda Romano-Lax
98. Kon Tiki: Across the Pacific by Raft Thor Heyerdahl
99.
On Sarurday 15Apr06-while most citizens of the United States were paying Uncle Sammy for another year of fear, hate, and war-MoWenck celebrated our 2 year anniversary since the commencment of our travels abroad.* The next day-Easter Sunday-I was able to attend an Argentina Futbol League match thus effecting everything from my list of "top 5 must see things while traveling" (see About MoWenck link from our home page)^. Milestones. In all of our travels I can think of no better city in which to celebrate such an anniversary-or any other occassion for that matter-than Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires (BA) is argueably South America’s highest-profile capital. With its broad avenues, colossal monuments, and sprawling mansions BA has even been called the "Paris of the South". BA's 47 barrios-each with a distinctive personality-give the metropolis a neighborhood ambiance. Ground zero is barrio "Microcentro" that boasts the major shopping and theatre districts. Just South of the center is Monserrat the city's civic axis which eventually gives way to the cobble stone streets of colonial San Telmo famous for its Tango bars and Sunday flea market. Further South is the blue collar barrio of La Boca that is also home to an enclave of artists in the colorful area known as Camininto. Northern neighborhoods like Retiro and Recoleta tend to be more elegant and include the upper-middle class barrio of Palermo with its expansive parks. Palermo can also claim some of the finest dining in the city (if not the country and continent) and wildest night life. "Don´t tell me this town aint got no heart!" We flew to BA from Bariloche on a Monday arriving at Jorge Newberry International Airport around 1500. We made our way to the very courteous and helpful information station where we were able to grab several different maps of the city and loads of brochures about BA's various tourist attractions. We also learned how we could get to our hostel (reserved in advance for a change) utilising public transport.
Flying into any international city is simple enough, all you have to do is get on the plane. Finding your way from the airport to your accomodation via public transportation in a foreign city is always the challenge. Buses, subways, and "L"s. They are a great way to become familiar with a new city. After our consultation we found our bus stop and when our bus rolled up we "hopped" on with our grand mochillas (big backpacks). The folks at the tourist office forgot to mention that BA public buses require the passenger to pay the fare with coins. Dóh! The bus is moving and I am standing there, bumbling, stumbling, fumbling, for the correct change to feed the ticket machine. I am 10 centimos ($0.03 US) short. I ask the other passengers if anyone can cover me and an old gent near me digs through his pockets and drops a dime on my weary ass. Swell! I felt like a chincy bastard, but hey, what are you going to do? As it turns out the bus did not go directly past our hostel. In fact, it did not even go remotely close to our hostel-we ended up hiking 10 long blocks with our packs getting strange looks from the other pedestrians. Lessons learned: BA public buses are cheap but they do not always go where you need to be but will usually get you "close" and finally, you need to have coins to ride. It was far from a disaster, we made it after all, and we were able to walk our new neighborhood, Palermo. Ours for the next 9 days.
When we finally did arrive at our hostel, El Candil, we received a warm welcome to our new digs. El Candil is much more than a hostel, it is a haven for road weary travelers. It is bright, airy, and clean. The common spaces are comfortable and stylish. The 3 proprietors are young artists and professionals with their own travel experiences who foster a community environment at the hostel. The other residents were a mix of students and international travelers. If you want to know more (and view pictures) visit www.hostalelcandil.com. We immediately settled in having an afternoon kip. After our little nap we both took showers and decided to explore our neighborhood a little more. At this point I also made my first attempt to contact our friends Colin and Selene, without luck. After an early dinner (by Argentina standards) we headed back to El Candil where we imbibed a bottle of "fine"Argentinian wine and talked with one of the student residents from Brasil. It was fun talking with Bruno because we could understand his Spanish.
The next day we decided to explore the other barrios in the South of the city. We wanted to avoid the public buses and give BA's subway system a whirl. Bad idea. Just as we got to the station crowds of bitter commuters were coming up the stairs. We didn't know what the hell was going on, people kept saying something to me in Spanish as I attempted to descend the stairs against the heavy flow of human traffic. Finally an English speaker dropped the news on us that the subway workers just went on unannounced strike. The system closed down and the streets were flooded with the stranded commuters. Damn! The guy who translated for us was headed the same direction (sort of) as us and so we opted to share a taxi with him. He turned out to be from New York but originally from Argentina and was quite full of good information. Every cloud has its silver lining. Every rose has its thorn. We wondered around Monserrat and San Telmo for the next few hours grabbing a quick cheap bite to eat before heading off to take a tour of the Teatro Colon BA's oppulent fine arts performing house. After the theatre tour we took a bus out to La Boca in search of tickets for the Boca Juniors Easter Sunday futbol match and to a small performing arts troupe known as Teatro Catalinas Sur. As I have already mentioned La Boca is a blue collar barrio which is a gentle euphamism for slum. So, we found ourselves slummin' it in La Boca wondering the streets in search of the Boca Juniors box office and the Teatro. We found the stadium and learned (erroneously) that tickets for Sundays match would not be on sale until Friday. Then we walked over to the Theatre house where we were able to score tickets for Saturday's show for only 12 pesos/person ($4 US). It was getting dark and so we decided to leave a visit to the Camininto until Friday when there was a free city sponsored tour (bi-lingual). We figured we would have to come back to buy tickets for the futbol match.
Back at El Candil I checked my email and made arrangements to meet Colin and Selene (and friends) that eveing for drinks and dinner in Palermo. We were to meet up with them at a local bar around 9pm. It was also around this time that I looked a little closer at our theatre tickets and discovered the date for the show was for Saturday 22Apr not Saturday 15Apr. Dóh! We were not planning on sticking around that long and would have to sell off our seats (it was no problem, one of the hostel owners happily bought them off us). Amy and I headed over to the bar just after 9pm. Of course we got there and there was no Colin or Selene but two young ladies instantly identified us and asked if we were Colin's friends. So much for blending in. Neshemah and Sherry are part of the international UC Berkeley alumni syndicate currently basing themselves out of Buenos Aires (Retiro). What is it, six degrees of separation? Despite UC Berkeley's healthy undergraduate population of around 30000 students (in the early 90's when we were all there) it is more like 2 degrees of separation. It was almost certain that Sherry, Neshemah, Amy and Tyler would have friends in common and that we would likely have already met. Of course we had, at Colin and Selene's wedding but none of us was sober enough on that glorious day to remember. LOL! At least we had something to talk about. Colin and Selene eventually made it-they had been running errands preparing for a flight to Europe (via NYC) the next day. Colin and Selene are just starting their own round the world trip, good on them. There was lots to discuss and it was good company all through an excellent family style dinner that included several cuts of meat, salads and bottles of wine all culminating with the postre Don Pedro**. After dinner we made our way back to Retiro (via taxi) where Sherry and Neshemah have an apartment. Downstairs from their digs is a bar called DaDa which Colin promised would be full of local charactors, most noteably one jewlery making lush known simply as KoKo. The pub did not disappoint and we drank well into the early morning hours before Amy and I stumbled out and took a taxi back to El Candil at about 0500. It was a good night and it was great to see Colin and Selene off and re-make new friends with Sherry and Neshemah.
Needless to say the next day we slept through the morning and did not get out and exploring the city until the afternoon. The highlight of the day was a free (on Wednesdays) visit to the Museo of American Latin art Buenos Aires (MALBA). Thursday was filled with more of the same tourist activity: museums, cemetaries, shopping, exploring barrios, eating and drinking our way through the city during Santa Semana (holy week). Friday we returned to La Boca to buy futbol tickets, take the tour, and visit the artesian enclave Camininto. As I mentioned before, it was erroneous information that futbol tickets would be available Friday. Well, not entirely. We could buy the gringo tickets for 150 pesos/person (transport to/from the stadium included). The big selling point for the gringo ticket was that you would be safe. Boca Junior futbol matches are infamous for violence and pickpockets. That was a bit more than we wanted to pay and besides, part of the experience is being in "the shit". We determined that general admis. tickets would only go on sale day-of-the-game. I made sure of when and where and then we made for the free tour meeting site. The English speaking guide had a soar throat and therefore the tour of La Boca would be conducted exclusively in Spanish. We ditched it after about 15 minutes and made our way to the Camininto. The streets of the Camininto were filled with street vendors-mostly selling water color paintings, knick-knacks, etc.-and tango dancers. The buildings of the Camininto have been painted in bright colors to hide the fact that you are still in the ghetto. It was all fascinatingly touristic. They were bussing the gringos in! We headed back to El Candil rather disappointed.
Back at the hostel, the resident male students from all over South America who had been planning to go to the Boca Juniors game informed us that we had no chance to get tickets. They claimed only Boca club members would be getting tickets on Sunday because it was on Easter. The Englishman at the hostel, who was translating for us, said it was likely that the information was not completely accurate. Great. Further he suggested we go down on Sunday and try to get tickets on our own. No shit. Saturday we went shopping at the San Telmo flea market before meeting up with Neshemah and Sherry for dinner and drinks to celebrate our 2 year anniversary. After a sub-par dinner we made our way to an expat party in Palermo being hosted by some acquaintences of Neshemah and Sherry. It was an interesting party but we left early, around 0330. We had to be in que in La Boca by 1130. Somehow, someway we made it to the ticket box and found ourselves in a long arsed line. It took us a full hour to make it to box where we could only buy general admission tix, there was a different line for seats. Fcuk! We bought 2 GA tix and then qued up for seats. It was the slowest moving line ever: slower than the line for will-call in Dunedin, New Zealand where the one-armed bandit was trying to dish out tickets to about 500 peeps 10 minutes prior to Haka time (remember that, did you read that blog?). We waited about 45 minutes and suddenly everyone in the line started walking away. Turns out the 30, 60, and 90 peso seats had sold out and only 200 peso tickets remained. Yikes! Thank goodness I bought 2 GA tickets (14 pesos each) but we had been advised: women should not sit (stand) in GA for a Boca Juniors match. Disheartened and hungover we headed back to El Candil for some much needed rest before the 1830 kick off. Amy opted out of her ticket but I was determined to go. I asked the Englishman if he wanted to join me for the game but he was a no go because he had a hangover and a cold. Finally a student from Ecuador named Jaime agreed to go with me. Excellent, a native Spanish speaker and his English was not bad either. He just needed to take off his Ecuador National Futbol jersey, wearing it to La Boca would have been suicide. Anyway, we made it to the stadium and found our way into the GA section. What can I say? It was awesome. The stadium shook with frantic fans who sang songs throughout. The cheerleaders were greeted with mad cat calls and whistles and questions of "how much?". The first half Arsenal did everything to score but failed to tally while Boca played like crap. The second half the crowd turned it up and so did the players and eventually the Boca Junios rallied to score a goal and a 1-0 victory. Everybody was happy so there was no violence. To be honest, I felt safer than I have felt at Oakland Raiders games. Seriously. Our site administrator says it is laughable to compare third world safety to a Raiders game but I am not so sure. East Bay! Oh, and I got to see Maradona.
The rest of our time in BA was more of the same: another dinner with Sherry and Neshemah that ended at DaDa and a ring purchase from KoKo. Blah, blah, blah. We were getting in a ragged rut and it was time to get ot of BA before it swallowed us whole. So on Wednesday we headed north, destination Colon a sleepy little town on the Rio Uruguay. More than anything else, Colon was a place to break up our journey up to Mercedes-the gateway to Esteros Del Ibera-but we found it a pleasant place and spent 2 nights. Mercedes was a crap hole and we were glad to only spend a single night there before moving on to Colonia Pelegrinni where we could access the wetlands of the Esteros.
The road to Pelegrinni is unsealed, pot-holed, and dusty. It is a miserable ride on the bus. The village itself is quite small, maybe 100 inhabitants. The village lies in the middle of the wetlands on the edge of Laguna Ibera. It is very tranquil (muy tranquillo in Spanish). We found a hostel for 20 pesos/night/person that included breakfast, cable teevee, and a ping pong table. Brilliant! The host, Ana Maria was quite kind and her flamboyant English speaking friend Cesar was entertaining. The next morning Ana Maria arranged a boat tour of the laguna for us. The tour was more focused on fauna than flora but we were exposed to a wide variety of both. Many species of birds and lots of caimans (alligators) and this weird beaver like animal called a carpincho. By 11am it was already heating up on the wetlands and so we made for our hostel after the tour where we took refuge from the midday sun. That afternoon we walked some trails into the wetlands. We ran into a German couple we had seen in Colon. As it turned out they were planning to leave the next day and just like us they were dreading the 0400 bus ride back to Mercedes where they would then catch another bus for the 5 hour journey to Corrientes on their way to Puerto Iguazu. I suggested that the 4 of us hire a 4-wheel drive truck and driver to take us directly to Posodas on the way to Iguazu-it would only take 3 hours and save us about 15. Of course chartering a vehicle to Posodas is more expensive than going via buses but when you split the cost 4 ways it is only slightly more expensive and it still saves you about 15 hours of travel time. Needless to say it did not take much convincing to get the Germans on board. Amy and I had already inquired about a ride to Posodas and had been told 390 pesos, a bit too much I thought. We decided to shop around. So did the Germans. We are talking about a village of 100 people-the word got around quickly. The Germans found a guy named Horacio who was going to Posodas and would carry 4 more for 250 pesos. Amy and I were in discussion with another driver when we learned the Germans had already made a deal. We pulled out trying not to step on anyones toes but something got lost in translation and we had about 3 different people interrupt our dinner asking about a ride to Posodas. Back at our hostel a rather tipsy Cesar was waiting up for us to talk about who would drive us to Posodas. Everything was settled (we thought) we just did not know who or what to expect for the next day.
We were scheduled to leave Pelegrinni at 0900 but at 0930 we were still playing ping pong at our hostel. I decided to walk over to the Germans hostel to see what was up with our ride. They were waiting also. Finally Horacio pulls up in a 1968 Ford pick-up that looked like it had seen about 750000 miles. Open air seating for 2 of the 4 of us. We agreed to split time in the back, Amy and I climbed in back first. The road from Pelegrinni to Posodas is even dustier and has more pot holes and I found myself in the back of the truck watching the green wetlands fly by thinking: "this doesn´t happen anymore. You never get to climb in the back of a pick-up and cruise dirt roads through wetlands, that doesn´t even happen in the third world." There we were, in the back. It was a splendid, if not a bit dusty, ride and I enjoyed listening to the Ipod on shuffle. My favorite track was Piper from Las Vegas 2002. Somehow it was just appropriate. Long story short (too late again!) we made it to Posodas in time for Amy and I to catch a bus that afternoon to San Ignacio and the Jesuit ruins. The Germans opted to stay in Posodas-the guy was a diebetic and was in need of some medical attention he could probably only get in Posodas.
San Ignacio is only about an hour ride North of Posodas in a rural part of Argentina known as the Misiones. San Ignacio is a dirty little town and the only reason to stop there was to see the Jesuit ruins. That is precisely what we did: spent 2 nights in San Ignacio and half a day exploring the ruins. It was another pleasant little stop on our travels North of Buenos Aires. But after visiting the ruins there was not a whole lot else to do and so we hopped a bus headed North to Puerto Iguazu and the Parque Nacional Iguazu, home to Argentina´s largest waterfalls or cataracts. We quickly found accomodation and information about visiting these famous falls and made plans to do so the next day. We headed out to the park early, around 0900, to beat the crowds. Parque Nacional Iguazu is Argentina´s most expensive nacional parque (30 pesos or $10 US) and also the most developed. Our shitty travel guide described the atmosphere as Disneyesque and I think this was a bit unfair. Both Amy and I felt the park was tastefully groomed with excellent walkways and catwalks that allowed the visitor to see the falls and surrounding nature without trampling all over it. The falls themselves are awesome, as advertised. Bigger and badder than Niagra. Very impressive, so much so, I had to pee almost incesantly. Well worth the 30 peso entrance fee even if I did not get to see any tucans as promised by other visitors.
After Iguazu we were planning to go to a place called Resistencia (originally we planned to cross into Puaruguy and stop off in the capital of Ascuncion on the way. Then we learned that the visa cost $45 US and nixed those plans) about 10 hours by bus from Iguazu. When we pulled into Resistencia we opted to continue on the bus another 10 hours to Argentina´s second city Rosario. That´s right, 20 hours of bus^^ and we arrived in Rosario at about 0530, still too early to get a bed. Ugh! The nightmare continued when we started calling hostels, there were no beds not even at the hotels. There were 3 conventions on and it was a long weekend (Mayday weekend). At 0900 I paid a visit to the Turismo office and the lady gave me a fliar for a new hostel and advised me to give them a call, maybe they would not be full. Sure enough they were golden and even managed to get us a slightly expensive private double (with shared bath of course). We took it. Finally checked in our room we had a much deserved rest before we went out and explored the city. Rosario is a really cool little city and it has a lot going on-not just on long weekends. There is a lot of local theatres and museums. We found a listing for a live acoustic guitar performance for that night and decided to give it a whirl after a much needed rest. The name of the trio was Zum and they were 2 Japonese cats and a "Che" (Argentinian). They jammed traditional music, rock standards (Beatles, Stevie Wonder), and their own music. The show was really good especially for 12 pesos. The next day we tried to find a local feria (street fair) but without luck. We just road the number 120 bus on its entire route failing to get off at the right point. It was interesting to spend an hour cruising on public transpo smelling old man farts going no where-NOT! After the bus fiasco we made our way down to the Monument o Nacional A La Bandera which pays tribute to the Argentine flag and its designer Manuel Belgrano. This was the site of the Rosario May Day celebrations and there was a free concert featuring the not so swelt Mercedes Sosa. We even made a trip up to the top of the very phallic like monument for some inspiring views of the city and Rio Parana. We capped the whole day off with a trip to the Rosario Museo de Bella Artes. A long day and a long blog.
NOTES:
* Neither Amy nor Tyler filed a tax return for the year 2005. We did not have to-essentially no income means essentially no taxes. While I would not mind having an income I do mind paying taxes to a national government so out of touch with reality and how I expect to be governed that I am ultimately glad not to file. Talk about funding an international terror organization. What is the CIA? The NSA? All branches of the "special forces"? Where do they get their money? Oh never mind!
^ Disregard the itinerary on the About Mowenck page it is completely irrelevant.
** A Don Pedro is a Argentinian dessert of ice cream and whisky recently "discovered" by Colin and Sherry. Brilliant, ice cream and whisky, why didn't I think of that?
^^ That is by far our longest bus haul on our tour. The previous long was a tie: twice we completed 16 hour rides in Myanmar. I must say that 20 hours on a bus in Argentina is better than 2 hours on a bus in Myanmar. 16 hours on a bus in Myanmar is an eternity.