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Published: December 18th 2007
Rachel arrives so we get off our fat bottoms and do something
The second half of our trip to Argentina was marked by Rachel’s arrival. Ana and I had done a lot of the tourist side of Argentina last time we visited together and so stored up all the trips and sights for Rach. We were to start with a cracker, one of the "eight natural wonders of the world" and something I had never seen before:
the Iguazu waterfalls. My feeble excuse at not having seen them in the six years I lived there is that we always used our holidays to return to England, France and Australia rather than exploring Argentina outside of Buenos Aires.
We caught a bus up there; Iguazu is on the Argentine, Brazilian and Paraguayan border and so is a good 16-17 hours bus ride from BA. I was needlessly dreading this trip: Argentine buses put Australian buses to shame! The seats were like business class seats in airplanes, they played three movies, served two meals, offered us whisky or champagne nightcaps, all with impeccable service. Buses are ruined for us forever. We arrived into Iguazu and headed to our hostel, a tropical oasis
complete with poolside bar. I could not enjoy it at first as our travel agent in BA had monumentally cocked up our booking, screwing everything up. So it took a few hours to sort it all out before I could finally relax and enjoy. It was not one of my finer moments, being incredibly stressed and grumpy; no one should have to put up with that and I was sorry Rachel was there to see it as I think I scared her. When travelling with people you often see their darker sides and I am sorry Rachel had to see mine. So it goes.
The next day we set out early to see the Argentine side of the falls. The border is right in the middle of the river and both countries compete vigorously for the tourist dollar. It is quite comical to see the national flags on each side to the river, jealously claiming this view or that fall. In a truly human way, each country has its own national park with its own funding and regulations, despite there being only one site; it scares me what a lack of international cooperation can bring about. We started with
a nice hike on the boardwalks along the top of several waterfalls. The river is so wide that the waterfalls are made up of several little ones interrupted by beautifully lush islands of green. Birds swoop in and out of nests under the water and tourist swarm the gangplanks looking and one stunning sight to another.
To break up the day we went for a hike along a less used trail to a small waterfall with a swimming pool at the bottom. The hike was easy and pleasant, and the dip at the end a welcome change from the tropical humidity. I (Ana) had great trouble getting into the water (and I didn't have a Zac there to throw me in) because it was cold, but once in, the water was incredibly refreshing and wonderful. We found a 'relatively' comfy rock to then sun bake on. But the two highlights of the day were yet to come. We hiked back to do another walk which provided even more spectacular views, rainbows dancing everywhere, spray kissing our faces. At the bottom of this walk we climbed down to the river bank to catch a boat that was going to take
us under the falls. I cannot describe what fun this was. The cool water hammering down so hard you cannot open your eyes, hearing the squeals of fun of the other passengers and experiencing the falls physically rather than visually. As we were right under the falls, I (Ana) was shouting at Chas to take his hat off. He couldn't hear me and thought I was telling him that his hat was getting wet, and told me to stop worrying. Instead, Chas' cheap dark green hat that he bought off a street seller in Rio, was losing all its dye and his face and neck were covered in this dark green dye, dripping down onto his bright orange T-shirt! The trip was like a roller coaster ride, though more thrilling as you thought about what you would have to do if the boat were to capsize or go too far into the waterfall! As we gathered our breath at the end, we all wanted to do it again.
The day ended with another walk to the
Garganta del Diablo or the Devil’s Throat. This is the most spectacular part of the falls which we had not yet seen as
it is closer to the Brazilian side. It is a U-shaped waterfall, with massive amounts of water flowing over and crashing into each other sending up huge clouds of mist. Rachel mentioned that the Victoria Falls have a local name which translate as
the Smoke that Thunders, which I thought was a wonderful description. To get there we had to walk across a kilometre of gangplank, across a fast-flowing river to certain death, to get to a small platform at the top. Unfortunately, my (Chas') fear of heights got the better of me and I only took a quick glance before heading back to a concrete-floored haven.
The next day we took in the Brazilian side which took a paltry two hours after the eight that were not enough on the other side. The one walk you can do however is so rewarding, the views predominantly of the Devil’s Throat from underneath where it is truly inspiring. Our trip to Iguazu ended with the hostel providing an asado and some Brazilian dancers (which meant some borderline pornographic ass shaking from near naked women, much to Rachel’s embarrassment). Oh and before I forget, we played our first game of beach
Nico's masterpiece
Containing lomo (scotch fillet), matambre, colita de cuadril, chorizos, morones and choclovolleyball in ages, giving me painful proof of how unfit I really am. Fun though. I (Ana) was very proud to be the only girl on the court with 9 boys, and played not too bad.
The asado from heaven, thanks Nico
Ever since we had arrived in BA I (Chas) had been catching up with school friends one or two at a time. I had been trying to organise a big outing where all of us could see each other, a mini reunion. But it was getting very difficult and I was beginning to realise that I was the only person connecting most of these people having missed the last year of school and all of university.
So I could not have been more grateful when Nico offered to have an asado at his house and took all the trouble of contacting everyone, buying all the food and drink and of course cooking it all. It worked out wonderfully well as friends came who I had been in touch with since leaving and some whom I had not seen from my last day of school at St George's well over six years ago. We had all changed
Asado new school
Nico was short of hot coals, STAT but what was wonderful was how easy it was to slide back into our friendships; we caught up on seven years in a couple of sentences and then just continued where we had left off. While there was a lot of life in the middle, what had made us friends in the beginning was still there.
There were still some notable absences due to personal reasons (you know who I am talking about!) but it was great to reconnect with a lot of the boarders from school. It is hard not to form some sort of relationship after living with each other for four years and I see a lot of their influence in how I am today.
Seeing Buenos Aires, the tourist trek
Our first day back was a Saturday and part of it was spent recovering from the asado. But Ana and I once more embarked on the walk to Recoleta along Libertador with Rachel. It was a stunning day and the markets were just setting up when we arrived (1pm). These are good tourist markets with all the traditional Argentine trinkets but also some decent leather goods at reasonable prices. We quickly set about getting
A wonderful puppeteer in San Telmo
I (Ana) watching this same guy here last time we came to BA about 4 years ago. It's a story about a drunk. Christmas presents and then hit up an ice cream and the
Recoleta cemetery.
This cemetery, right in the middle of the city centre, is a wonderful (and free I might add) collection of tightly packed mausoleums. It forms a type of city of the dead, wandering from one granite or marble tribute to another containing many Argentine notables such as Evita. The most impressive have towering statues and stain-glass windows, the most gruesome have caskets and a window. It is a lovely stroll and a nice place to fell the sunshine and contemplate.
Next day was the best thing to do on Sunday in BA, the
San Telmo flea markets. The old central district of San Telmo is worth a visit on any other day to admire the cobbled streets, the Parisian houses and apartment buildings and to get a feel for Argentine history. It is crammed with excellent bars and restaurants but on Sunday it really comes to life. Centring around Plaza Dorrego and extending a long way down Avenida Defensa are handicraft markets, antique shops and markets, street performers and wonderful musicians (a personal favourite were some twins dressed as Charlie Chaplin but who did absolutely
Wrecks in the Tigre Delta
While the whole delta was beautiful, it was the beauty brought about by man's carelessness that caught my eye nothing) culminating in the best, free, open-air tango exhibition in Buenos Aires. I took Ana last time we were in BA and she was captivated by the talent, knowledge and showmanship of this longstanding dancer and his partner. Unfortunately, Ana and I went twice, once with the Icelandic girls and once with Rachel, and they were not there either time! Apparently each time was a freak event and if we had gone on either of the other two Sundays we were in BA we would have caught them.
Another charming Plaza Dorrego tradition is to just sit out front a café and have a beer and a plate of peanuts in the shell, muniching away hapily and absorbing the atmosphere and music.
The next stop was
Tigre, a town just outside of Buenos Aires and on the delta of the River Plate. This is something I like to do, as the town is pleasant, has a wonderful furniture market where my mother used to put us through hell negotiating with every shopkeeper, good places to eat but best of all a two hour boat trip around the delta. You get to see 'delta life' with its rowing and
sailing clubs (the english influence raises its head again, alongside the Argentine penchant for polo and rugby), its wooden houses on stilts, the lush greenery and exotic bird life plus some wonderful wrecks, ironically left there as a protest against further pollution of the delta region.
Our last tourist stop was
Caminito and the
Plaza de Mayo. Caminito is a small pedestrian street in the poorer central area of
La Boca (the mouth of the Riachuelo and formerly an important port) and home to the famous football team where Maradonna played and where Riquelme may be heading. When some land from an abandoned railway was reclaimed off the government, a famous Argentine painter suggested turning the street into and open air museum for painters to exhibit and sell their work and, to bring the punters, to paint their houses different vivid colours. There are many eye catching buildings and the odd painting I wanted to buy, but on the day we went there were just too many tourist and touts.
Damn foreign people going to see famous stuff in other countries! So our last stop is one of the most affecting things in Argentina, to see the Casa
The last supper
My last bife de chorizo before departing BA Rosada from where Evita among other leaders have addressed their people amassed in the Plaza de Mayo to watch the
Madres march. The Madres of the Plaza de Mayo are a group of women, mothers whose children went missing druring the dictatorship. They march every Thursday asking the government to give them their children's or grandchildren's bodies or at least tell them what happened. They have been marching for 30 years and have become a political force; they have been applauded by the UN and have turned many an election and now march for all sorts of issues. Last time Ana and I were there, we saw one of their last big annual marches where they erect huge scaffolds and cover them with A4 photos of the missing people. It was a haunting yet inspiring experience.
Don't cry for me Argentina
I know it won't. It has struggled on without me, as have all my friends. But returning I have found what I needed, the love and welcome of my friends, my old ice cream shop call Arnaldo's, the way of life, the meat, everything. Our time was a mix of living in Argentina and then seeing it. There
The Madres de la Plaza de Mayo
Protesting over the iniquitous distribution of wealth in the country is much more to do, Mendoza wine regions and the Perito Moreno glacier, but they will have to wait for another time.
We joked on that last night at a pizza parlour that when we came back we might have children of our own, but when the laughter died I knew it may be true. I was unlikely to be back for years. I will definitely bring my children and maybe my sister who is an Argentine citizen should she wish it. What I do know is that it will all still be there waiting for me and that makes me love it all the more. It is one of the three places in the world where I feel at home and it has contributed more to the man I am becoming than England and Australia put together. Moving on was sad not because I love the place so much, but because I had come home and was now leaving it again.
Muchas gracias chicos y nos veremos dentro de poco en Australia... ¿no?
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Molly
non-member comment
Wow! What an adventure you are both experiencing. The stamina you have is amazing! Looking forward to Jan! Lots and lots of love, Molly xxxx