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Published: February 7th 2010
An original rowboat... and rower
I'm not sure if these two were some of the founding fathers of the rowing club, but they must have been close.So, in the spirit of trying to actually get up to date with my attempts to let everyone know what I'm doing, I'm going to talk about my trip to Tigre and my week of Spanish lessons in the one post. This way I'll only be about a week or two behind where I actually am... and I may finally complete my travel writing sometime in 2012.
Having explored the sites of Bs As in the days after I first arrived, I expanded my range and started to look at the city's hinterland. The one thing that was starting to get to me was the lack of large expanses of open water. Now, I may have been spoiled by my place back in Sydney, but the artificial confines of Puerto Maedryn really didn't do much for me. Sure, the new development is beautiful, but I find it hard to be swept away by artificial waterways.
I like my water a little less contained. And, after doing some hunting, I discovered that there was a place called Tigre about an hour away that offered just such a vista. Tigre is north of Bs As on the Rio Plata and counts
Tigre
Buildings like this were all over the town. Made you feel a little like you were wondering around the pricier ends of Sydney Harbour. as a bit of a tourist town for the Portenos. It has had a bit of a varied history since it was first settled back in the mid-Eighteenth Century, but is now a sort of weekend escape.
Another random fact. Argentina is named after the Latin for silver. The Rio Plata translates as the Silver River. Both names come from the fact that this is where all the Spanish Silver (and gold) came from after it had been forcibly liberated by the Conquistadors.
Given everything seems to have been named after silver it is a little surprising that the national colours are Blue and White. Although, maybe if you combine them, then you get silver?
Tigre was at one time the retreat for the rich and aristocracy. When disease (ie cholera) came to Bs As the rich moved away and ended up in Tigre. Of couse the working class didn't get that option and had to stay back in the city to deal with cholera and invent tango. As a result there are a number of very large and ornate buildings around the town of Tigre.
The area also became a little bit of a retreat
Every good city needs one of these.
I'm only surprised it took so long to found. for the British who had helped build the rail and subway systems. This in turn meant that the home of Argentine rowing is at Tigre. There were about three different rowing clubs tht I could see and quite a few people having a quiet scull (rowing not drinking) when I arrived at the ferry terminal that morning.
Anyway, I had signed on to a tour of an ecofarm up in the Rio Plate Delta that that offered the opportunity to go horseback riding, hiking, and canoeing. I took a trip out to Tigre in the morning, then a ferry ride up into the Rio Plata Delta to the ecofarm. Fortunately the ecofarm was at the end of the ferry line, otherwise I'm not sure how I would have managed to get off at the right stop.
Actually I'm not too sure how I would have managed to signal the crew that I needed to get off at the next wharf... I still hadn't started my Spanish lessons at this point.
The ferry was very cool. Very old fashioned with bench seats and lots of wood surfaces. I felt like I was on some river cruise in 20s
Not quite a harbourcat...
The Ferries that service Tigre and the Delta. Europe... pretty sure I have seen photographs of similar boats plying the rivers of France and Germany. Basically these ferries act as a local bus for the folks in the delta, so the roof gets covered with shopping and luggage and lots and lots of bottled water (the local wells aren't fit for drinking). Then everyone crowds into the cabin and you watch the river go by.
I thought it was wonderful. I am sure the locals were wondering why this crazy gringo was continually taking photos of the boat, river, houses, anything that caught my eye. The ferry pretty much cruised up the river, stopping at the piers of each houe as required to let people on or off.
The delta itself felt very decrepit. I loved the fact that some of the older houses were almost overgrown, and their piers were only just functional. Other houses had obvious been the recipients of intense restoration and looked like plantation houses appearing suddenly out of the jungle (or very thick bush). Every now and then we passed a barge that was acting as a travelling store, laden with gas, water, food and all the other bits and pieces
Travelling in comfort and style
The ferry boats (and there were at least a dozen of them) oozed class. Far more stylish than the plastic of the rivercat and harbour ferries. that are a bit heavy to manhandle yourself. Oh, and big signs spelling EXPLOSIF; even I could work that one out. Although the crewman on deck smoking next to the sign was obviously working under a different set of rules about explosives and open flames.
After about an hour we finally got to the ecofarm: Bonaventura. The Manager met me and two Argentinos at the pier, pointed at the hammocks at the water's edge, offered us a nice cold drink and told us to sit down, relax and wait for lunch.
I certainly didn't need to be told twice.
Within 5 minutes I was swinging in the hammock, with the trusty Lonely Planet Travel Photography Book and an icy cold glass of water. What I didn't know to begin with was that the farm offered accommodation as well. All up there were about four different groups, with me being the only day tripper. One family had two boys who seemed to be half acquatic. They lived in the river and only came out at luchtime under sufference.
Anyway, lunch was amazing. An
assado, or barbecue, in true Argentine fashion. Think meat, meat, a little more meat,
The seedier part of the Delta
Some of these buildings looked like they wouldn't withstand a stiff breeze. some chorizo and maybe a bit of chicken. Vegetarians? Sorrry, we don't serve them. The food was delicious, and the quantity, combined with the heat and setting was starting to make me a little drowsy when the manager made the decision that it was too hot to go hiking and instead everyone would go horse riding and canoeing.
Hmmm.... I haven't ridden a horse since 2007... or maybe 2006. Thankfully Janine and Julian (the other two guests to decide on the activities) were both almost as inexperienced as me, so I wasn't holding anyone back too much on the ride.
Horseback riding is a lot of fun. Lots and lots of fun. We went out for about 90 minutes, circling the island of the farm and taking a couple of different tracks. I think my horse felt as if it had got the rough end of the stick by carrying me rather than one of the other two.The horses were very placid, and eventually we all settled into the moviestyle cowboy posture.
That is all of us except the guide. He was quite happy to show off his skills, standing on the saddle, riding backwards to take
a photo, all those little things to show that he really is a much better rider than anyone else on the tour. Considering I didn't speak Spanish, and he didn't speak English, we formed a chain, with him out front, me in the back and Julian and Janine relaying all the information I needed in order to keep up with them.
Julian and Janine were very cool guys. They were both early 20s and from Bs As. Janine was originally from Spain, and had spent a lot of time travelling in Europe, partially when studying as a Pastry Chef. Julian was finishing his studies as a sound/media technician. Both of them had very good English and were happy to talk and answer all the questions I had about Argentina, like
how does anyone manage to get up in the morning when you only go out at 2 am? After the horses, we started leg two of the activities and loaded into canoes. I felt like I was on a little more solid ground here; at least I understood the concept of an oar and how to go in a straight line!
Anyway, the half way point
Barbecue Argentine Style
The manager's main concern was that there might not be enough food there. All I can say is that I must have eaten at least a couple of head of cattle so far in this trip. of the canoeing was in this little lagoon where we could all have a swim. It was really strange; the top foot of water was very warm and then it was almost icy (and very deep). I did try diving to the bottom but when I couldn't touch it, and the daylight was starting to fade out, well... I decided I'd better come back up to the surface.
Very refreshing though.
The only problem with the day was the time it took to get home that night. Leaving the ecofarm at six, I only got home at about 9.30 pm. The hour long train ride back to Bs As was pretty difficult... I'm pretty sure I fell asleep a couple of times after all that good exercise and outdoors activity. Definitely not the recommended course of action when travelling in a foreign country,
That Sunday I checked out of Hostel Rocces and moved into my Homestay in preparation for the Spanish Lessons at COINED. I spent a week staying with Julie Bernal Lynch, a grandmother who was from a very traditional Argentine family (the Lynches have been here for well over 100 years...). The room I was
Hi Ho Silver
Well, not quite. More like 'Hang on for dear life'. in had its own bathroom which was great after a week of communal showers. The room itself had enough room for a bed and my bags but that was about it... I maybe could have swung a very small kitten.
Classes were in the old Palacio San Michel. Great location, right in the heart of the Bs As downtown. The first day we had to be there at 8 am and all the newbies got to sit a test to assess our language skills.
Well, I understood some of the questions... But that didn't mean I knew how to write the answers... There was a lot of blank space on the exam paper by the time I finished it. Which seemed a reasonably accurate assessment of my level of understanding of the language. Then I got asked a lot of questions (on the off chance I was just illiterate) and once they had confirmed my level of Espanyol was based on watching Speedy Gonzales cartoons, I was loaded into the absolute beginner group.
I actually signed up for two different sets of instruction; four hours a day of group classes in the morning and an hour in the
Chocolate named after ceased nations.
I had to buy this chocolate. After all, how many times to you find a chocolate named after the place you were born? (If you are from Lindt, Cadbury or Toblerone please don't answer.)
For the record, a lemon wafer covered in chocolate. Not really to my taste despite the name. afternoon of individual tuition. This worked out by giving me a chance to learn the basics in the group class and then, in the afternoons, to concentrate on the things that would help most with my travels over the next three months. Plus I got to meet some new people who also were finding their way around Bs As.
A note about Argentine Spanish. It’s not like any other version of the language. I think it is similar to the Scottish accent. Sure, those Highlanders are speaking English but it has a taste, rhythm and peculiarities all of its own.
Similarly Argentine (and more particularly Porteno) Spanish. They use pronouns that have died out everywhere else (think thee and thou), and pronounce certain sounds in a way that is not typically European Spanish nor Latin American Spanish...
As a result, not only do I sound like a foreigner, I sound like one trying to put on a specific accent... and everyone told me that is was the Chileans who were hard to understand.
After a week of classes I think I am ahead of Tarzan but still a long, long way from where I’d like to
COINED Building
This is the building where I attended the COINED School. The San Michel Palace is of historic value. Of course, to me, it looked like most of the rest of downtown Bs As. be with the language. In other words, I am capable of saying
I am Marc, you are whoever rahter than the famous
Me Tarzan, You Jane. Of course, if I looked like Johnny Weismuller then maybe I’d have more success dropping verbs from the conversation.
The group classes were very full on. It was drinking from the fire hose of a language, and even though in a week we were only in the present tense, I can conservatively say I have about 500 words of Spanish (which apparently is more than some teenagers have of English). In addition, during the private classes I learned how to cheat and talk about the past and future without having to remember too many conjugations.
The instruction was immersion based, so the teachers spoke at us in Spanish the whole time, only using English very occasionally to explain a term that we may not have come across before. We were also meant to solely use Spanish, but that only lasted until the teacher left the room and then we all lapsed into English.
I am thinking about stopping off in Chile or maybe Bolivia and doing another week on an individual
level. I really enjoyed learning the language and am trying to make sure I use the language rather than default to English. We’ll see how that goes. I still can’t remember how to say sorry, so I’m probably contributing to or creating the myth of the arrogant australiano all by myself.
The group class was an interesting mix. We had a dentist and his wife who were down for two weeks and had obviously learnt a little bit of Spanish before; a Japanes Girl, Yasuko, who was planning on moving to Argentina after living in the US for a while; Justus, a Dutch kid who was filling in some time before starting university; Mustaffa, from Turkey who was studying Chemical Engineering and needed a break; Nick, who had just graduated from Oxford with a degree in English Literature and had been spending a year off before beginning work; and Ricky, a mechanical engineer who was waiting to start grad school. Nick and Ricky both had plans to study for a few weeks and then travel around South America, whilst Juustus was studying for eight weeks before beginning his adventure.
It was a pretty good group to learn a language in. The non-native English speakers were, as always, impressive by virtue of the fact that this was a third or fourth language for some of them. But we all helped each other and got along well.
The main group at the language school whilst I was there was Brazilian. Young Brasilianos come across to Bs As to learn Spanish all through school and university. It makes sense, Brazil is the only country in Latin America that speaks portugese, and, even though the two languages sound a little similar, there are a number of large differences. So, being fluent in Spanish is a big plus for a Brasiliano.
There must have been almost a hundred Brasilianos there that week. They all had their proficiency tests on the Wednesday, and then spent the next two days going out partying each night and tunring up to the school looking very much the worse for wear.
Ricky, Nick and I did go out with a couple of them on my last Saturday in town. Well, we meant to, but dinner only finished at midnight (and as we left the
parilla{/i}, or steakhouse, we were watching families turnign up for dinner) and then by the time we got back to the hostel and had a couple of beers it was almost 3 am!
Cue going out at a real Argentine time.
Of course, when we decided to call it quits at about 6 am, the Brasilianas had a go at us for going home too early. I on the other hand feel that if you can see the light of dawn it is technically impossible for it to be too early to finish the night.
Having completed a week of Spanish, I can reveal my proficiency is A1, which equates to the fact I can recognise the language and make very, very simple sentences. The highest level is C2, which is even more advanced than fluency... and may take years to attain. As I said, depending on how my itinerary works out I may spend some more time in Chile advancing my competence.
On Sunday, after I'd finally made it up, I hopped on a bus and made a 16 hour trek to the very north of Argentina: Iguazu Falls.
More on that next.
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Dan Wetstein
non-member comment
Lo siento
"I'm sorry" or "that's too bad." Good on ya, Marc. It's hard doing the immersion classes ... takes a lot out of you every day. I do like the way you did it though, with both group and individual lessons. My initial classes were eight hours per day of individual for five straight days and after a day of that much "attention" I couldn't get the first beer down fast enough. Since you're now in Mendoza and learning that all life really requires is large quantities of excellent red meat and red wine (bread is good, but not absolutely necessary), you've no doubt come to appreciate that special varietal from Argentina ... Malbec. They do it better than anyone else in the world (even though it has French roots) ... similar to Oz and Shiraz. You'll also find a couple of libations that I've never run across elsewhere ... liqueurs of dulce de leche and egg creme. Amazingly smooth and guaranteed to produce a massive headache if overindulged (dramatic amounts of sugar to push the alcohol straight to the cerebral cortex). Looking forward to the next episode, Marc. Be safe, Dan