Buenos Aires - We're Not in Asia Anymore

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How to Spend 48 Hours Without Doing Anything

We left our hotel in Osaka around nine am on Sunday 11 October. We took two subway lines to reach the main train station. From there we hopped a bullet train back to the Tokyo main train station. Then, we took the airport express train to the Tokyo Narita airport for our 4pm flight. After a twelve hour flight, we killed about six hours in Washington Dulles airport with some friends who came to visit us. It was still Sunday. Around 10pm, we boarded a flight to Buenos Aires, Argentina. After a ten hour flight, we arrived at 9am Monday morning. We took a shuttle bus from the airport to the city center. After 4 trains, two planes, and a shuttle bus, I was done. I could not even begin to explain the jet lag for this journey. I think we calculated that we were traveling for about 36 hours, with about a 12 hour time difference and 22 hours of flight time. Of course, the same movies were showing on both of our flights. So, aside from some reading and watching Transformers II and some other flicks, we spent 36 hours of time and accomplished very little. I would have preferred to say “Beam me up Scotty.” But, we were in South America, finally.

Poor Man’s Europe

The differences between Osaka and Buenos Aires were striking. Osaka was one of the cleanest cities, along with Tokyo and Singapore. Buenos Aires - not so much. We started referring to it, affectionately, as the Poor Man’s Europe. The city has some great European architecture, but it is all very dingy. There are grand plazas with park like settings and fountains, which were just not well maintained. There was a great café society, but the streets have a lot of litter, ruining the view. The city is also very loud. The buses have certainly not embraced clean fuel technology, they rumble down the streets spewing exhaust. There are newsstands or kiosks all over the city, proudly displaying adult magazines in ALL their glory. It is the poor man’s Europe because the food is relatively cheap, as was coffee at the cafes, the beer and wine. Also, the majority of the population in BA are of European descent, and it is amazing to see the fashion and the character of the population and have it remind me so much of Spain and Italy.
People in Buenos Aires, known locally as portenos, seemed to love two things almost equally as much - football and protests. We were there for a very tense football match between Uruguay and Argentina. If Argentina lost, they would not have qualified for the World Cup next year - and Argentina always qualifies. We left the hotel at the start of the game and the streets were quiet and empty. The cafes and bars were filled with everyone staring intently at small TVs suspended from the ceiling. I was hoping that Argentina would win because I did not want to be in the city if they lost. I told Eric it would be best for us to be back at the hostel before the game was over just in case. That is because portenos seem to be good at protesting, and they appeared to be very opinionated.

We first noticed it walking through the pedestrian shopping area of Lavalle and Av Florida. There were large posters of Obama with a Hitler moustache. This shocked me because it was the first time anywhere in the world we felt any animosity towards Obama. The poster read something like “he has a plan, but it is a bad one”. I understand the critics arguing that Obama has not done much with his first 9 months in office, particularly after the peace prize, but to equate him with Hitler was disconcerting. I could not understand what they were yelling to explain their point. We tried to Google “Hitler, Obama, Argentina.” The only thing I found was some website about global warming. Who knows? Each day in Buenos Aires, we walked by some plaza with a demonstration against something usually involving some loud fireworks. Needless to say, I did not want to be around if Argentina lost and the population had something to actually be upset about. Thank goodness Argentina won at the last minute and peace remained in BA.

Siempre Siestas

After six months in Asia, South America was a culture shock in several ways, but the one that smacked us in the face when we arrived was the temperature. When we were ready to land, the pilot said “It is a beautiful day in Buenos Aires with clear, blue skies and a temperature of 11 degrees.” Eric and I looked at each other and our jaws dropped. We were used to hot and humid weather. It was a little cooler in Japan, where it was their fall. But, 11 degrees, come on? I felt the cold as soon as we left the airport. During several of our days in BA I was wearing long pants, socks, and shoes, a t-shirt, a long sleeve zip, a fleece, a rain jacket, and a scarf. I wished I had gloves. Two weeks before I was wearing capris, a tank top, and flip flops sweating my way through Vietnam. It was spring time in BA, and when the sun was out it felt warm, but when it was not, I was shivering.

The hostel we stated at had a comfortable bed, but no heat. I was unsure what they do in the middle of their winter, or exactly how cold it gets, but the only place I was comfortable was wrapped up in the bed, with my hands tucked warmly underneath. This was convenient because we were fairly jetlagged. So, each day, we fell into the traditional Spanish trait of taking siestas. We napped from about 4pm until 7pm every day in BA. And, we napped hard. It was as if our bodies felt that it was nighttime when we napped and day time when we went to sleep because of the time difference. It was wonderful though and finally warm. On some days, though, it meant we were waking up from a little before 8pm, forcing ourselves to eat something, and then unable to really walk the city because it was too cold. One night we even stayed up in the bar at the hostel talking to a guy from Seattle until 2am. We were stunned. Maybe we really were settling into the scene.

The Grill Master Extraordinaire

Another wonderful thing about BA was the food. I did not know what to expect other than a lot of meat and pasta, but after the lack of diversity of food in Asia, I was dying for decent Italian pasta, or really any variety in food. Our first lunch in BA was at a Middle Eastern restaurant with some fantastic gyro. I even found a place for a burrito. I had been dying for Mexican food since January. I found a place called California Burrito Company that was a knock off of Chipotle down to the design on the t-shirts. Eric just watched me down a decent burrito with guacamole and everything. It was not spectacular, but it was good enough. Pizza is also a national treasure in Argentina, due to the Italian influence. Apparently you are not to criticize the pizza in a comparison to pizza in New York or Italy. We tried it, it was good, but I know where my allegiance lies.

As for meat, you cannot walk through the center of BA without tripping over a parilla - a meat restaurant with a giant grill in the front. This is not a city for vegetarians (we thought of our friend Sonja often). All of the restaurants handed out little ads as you walked by them talking about how wonderful their place was. Many of them felt too touristy for us. But, at one place recommended by Lonely Planet, Eric fell in love with choripan, a giant sausage in a soft, crusty bread. I fell in love with milanesa - a thin cut of either beef or chicken breaded and fried served on a roll with tomato, lettuce, and egg, or on a plate with cheese, ham, and tomato sauce. I ate large raviolis called sorrentinos with a tasty red cream sauce. We also delved into the empanada scene, ordering a few for dinner one night and taking them back to the hostel. I was excited just to stand close to their oven to warm my hands. Overall, I was enjoying the food, and then we found Flowers.

Flowers was a mom and pop parilla on a side street between the main shopping promenade and the street our hostel was on. It had a little bar counter with stools in front of a large grill covered from one end to the other with sausages and various cuts of meat. The man who worked the grill never stopped moving for one minute. He was the grill master extraordinaire. We stopped for a pre-nap snack one of our last days in BA and Eric had a chorpian AND a beef sandwich (think large piece of beef on a bun). I enjoyed one of the best milanesa sandwiches with a fantastic chimichurri sauce with garlic and a provencal sauce with peppers, garlic, and olive oil. The sauce soaked into the bread and dripped down my hand but I did not care. We were hooked on Flowers. We ate our last lunch and dinner there. In about 24 hours I had three milanesa sandwiches. It was easily the best find in all of BA.

I was also excited about the availability of wine. It is one thing I missed in Asia. I love a cold beer on a hot day, but I love my wine. We tried the Argentinean national beer, Quilmes, which is usually served in the largest beer bottle I have seen, generally a one liter sized bottle for about $2. But, it was the wine I was dreaming of. I started with ordering the vino de la casa, or the house wine. It was a trick we learned it Italy where generally the house wine at most restaurants is even pretty drinkable. This was not Italy. The first bottle we tried at a sidewalk café was okay, somewhat drinkable, and totally cheap at the equivalent of less than $4. One night, we ate at one of the tourist traps to try some pasta and I ordered a half bottle (thank god) of the house wine. It was awful; mere swill. We could not even finish the tiny bottle. From that point on, Eric made me promise to not order the house wine and to splurge the extra dollar for something better. Eventually, we became better at ordering the wine and started to enjoy the malbec and tempranillo that the Mendoza wine region is known for.

Feelin’ Old

Before this trip, Eric and I never stayed in hostels. I always imagined them filled with nasty dorm style rooms, dirty bathrooms, and drunk teenagers. We learned quickly in Australia and New Zealand that many hostels have normal double rooms with private bathrooms that act more like budget hotels than hostels. And, we have seen everyone in a hostel ranging from retirees to families. In Asia we rarely stayed at hostels because hotels and guest houses were so cheap. In Argentina, we were back on the hostel trail. We stayed at Hostel Suites Obelisco, part of the Hostels International group. We got a great deal - stay five nights, pay for four, and we received a 15%!d(MISSING)iscount for being HI members. The price per night was less than $25 a night. The main reception area included a bar, pool table, DVD room, wireless, and a fantastic breakfast that was included in the price. The room was simple with a surprisingly soft and comfortable bed. Our room was one of three in a suite of rooms at the rear, sharing a bathroom. It was an old apartment converted into part of the hostel. We shared our wall with a room with four dorm beds and a door between. We heard EVERYTHING that happened in the room, every squeak of the bed, every cough, every conversation, and every snore. But, surprisingly we slept decently each night and even better during siesta. This was even more surprising considering the environment just outside the door to the suite, and just past reception.

To take a step back, the environment in BA is similar to that in Madrid or Barcelona - late late nights. Usually, restaurants do not open until 8 pm, most people do not eat dinner until at least 10 or 11pm, and dinner does not end until oftentimes 1am. Then, around 2am, people head to the clubs until at least 5am. This may surprise you but this is not a schedule Eric and I often keep. But, we got to see it up close and personal at the hostel in BA. The music in the bar area played 24 hours a day. When I went to the bathroom around 4am I could hear the music blaring from the bar. Considering our jet lag, one morning Eric ventured into the bar area to use the WiFi about 6:30am. The party was still going pretty strong at that point. I came out about 7am, but it was too loud so I returned to the room to read. Around 8am breakfast was served. As I enjoyed my frosted flakes and fantastic fresh milk (in a country that loves beef, you can assume there is great dairy), there were still three guys going strong, two of them playing pool while one watched. The two playing pool were so drunk they got into a fight over a rule. One almost fell over. I thought to myself, why are these kids (and they were most certainly kids) still awake and drinking after 8am. I just wanted to yell at them - go to bed! We did not fit in well at all. When they played music that we actually recognized because it was from a decade or two ago, we felt even older. The kids were probably thinking that music like Guns N Roses was the oldies. When Paradise City played one night and a few of the kids started singing along, we did the calculation and thought that most of them probably were not even born when that song came out. We felt, most certainly, old.

Brazil Visa

One of the main reasons why we stayed almost a week in BA was to obtain a visa to visit Brazil. Like India, it is fairly difficult to obtain a visa for Brazil with illogical requirements. We were told that BA was not a city with many tourist sites or things to see (agreed) but it was a city to experience (agreed). We could have stayed only three nights and it would have been sufficient, but for the nastiness of having to get the visa. We arrived on Columbus Day and the consulate was closed. We went first thing Tuesday morning, and with no line we walked right up to the woman who held the key to my entry to Brazil. I say MY entry because after realizing how strict they were on the requirements and how much it cost, we found out that Eric could get in using his Irish visa with no problems, no costs, no visa. So, this became my problem. Most visas require a name of a person you know in the country, an address of where you are staying, proof of exit from the country or a demonstration of financial means. They want to ensure you do not intend to enter the country, not leave, and go on government support. Indonesia had the same requirements, but we were able to slide by with a forwarding air ticket, telling them we had a flight from Singapore west, and that showed we would be leaving the country. We also showed them a bank statement from a savings account to demonstrate financial means. For other countries, we have made reservations at a Starwood hotel that could always be canceled or changed. No problem. For Brazil - problem.

We showed up at the Brazilian consulate with two months of bank statements, the name and address of a friend in Puerto Allegre that we would be visiting, and a copy of our flight confirmation from Buenos Aires back to the US. This was not sufficient. First, I asked for a 60 day visa and told her we would be going to Porto Allegre. She questioned what we would do in PA for a full 60 days, with the look on her face of a city snob from Rio or Sao Paolo. I told her we would take a bus from BA to Porto Alegre and then would visit Rio and Sao Paolo, which was better an answer, because it was obvious that no one could spend that much time in PA. The forwarding flight information was insufficient. It was a requirement that a return bus or plane ticket be shown, in and out of Brazil, not just a flight from the continent. Now, I have always thought this the most illogical requirement. Anyone can book a plane ticket to leave a country, and anyone can just not get on that plane and stay in the country. So, we left the consulate, returned to the hostel, and conspired for hours on how to beat the system. We were not ready to set a date to enter or leave Brazil and did not want to purchase tickets that we did not use or had to pay to change. Our goal was to keep everything open. Well, I will not let you in on my little secret of how I did it. But, we returned in the morning with the information required. The woman rolled her eyes at my proof, seeing right through my little game, but regardless, two days later I had my visa. Success! We were heading to Brazil, but first, a continuation of Argentina.

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Photos

The Obelisk
One of main areas for protest in BA.

Pretty Fountain
This one was nice because there was no graffiti like on the others.

Hello Kitty Sex Shop
Nothing like selling a Hello Kitty backpack to the kids on their way into the sex shop.

MMMM Burrito
Finally. Check the background, even the aluminum paneling is like Chipotle.

Eric's Choripan
Loading up on the chimichurri

Messy Choripan
Many of the places have stand up counters to eat and run.

Typical Touristy Parilla
Mommy, why is that animal turned inside out?

Milanesa Napolitan
Like chicken parm with ham and a side of french fries.

Sorrentinos
Large ravioli with a mix of red and cream sauce.

Flowers Grill
The work of the grill master.

Milanesa at Flowers
Yummy deep fried beef sandwich with dripping chimichurri sauce.

Eric's Tyipcal Pose
In the center of the widest avenue in the world.

Comments

[Sonja]

Thank you for thinking of me - I hope you enjoy your meat in Argentina and Brazil! I LOVE how every picture involves the two of you eating massive amounts of anything non-rice :). I miss you both!