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Published: April 20th 2008
Boca!
I know it doesn't look it, but this photo is real. Well I got to the bus station in Puerto Iguazu, after writing my last blog at the internet cafe down the hill, only to find Canadian Judy waiting for the same bus to Buenos Aires as I was.
Mindy, Judy and I all hung out for the 22 hours that it took us to reach Buenos Aires. It was supposed to have taken maybe 16, but due to protesters on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, who have set the vast agricultural fields alight, the main road is closed to traffic. So we ended up on many a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, driving down a really narrow street in our double decker bus, with school children all riding against us in a pack of uniforms. Although the journey was a bit extended it was still very manageable, with our Cama class affording us really comfy seats (three to a row) which reclined rather far. We also got dinner and breakfast and snacks, and the bus was empty so I migrated a few different times, and also stole all the blankets and pillows.
When we arrived in Buenos Aires we were greeted by a smoky haze, again due
Boca Stadium
I was pretty happy! to the fires. Mindy, Judy and I grabbed a taxi for a hostel in the centre, and after putting our stuff down and having a shower we had a bit of a walk around the centre. Perhaps being a friday night, it was a hive of activity, with people everywhere in the pedestrian-only commercial district. On the bus Judy had ripped her jeans big time, so we were half looking for new jeans and half watching the tango shows in the middle of the street.
We went back to the hostel to meet up with Mindy and her friend Krisz before taking a taxi quite a way (13 pesos worth) to the door of this really ritzy restaurant. We were a little unsure about La Cabrera, a wealthy looking steak house that was highly recommended in the lonely planet, because we were all thinking 'this is a bit too ritzy for us backpackers with our smelly clothes and thongs'. But we went inside anyway, eating some bread sticks with our dip and choosing meats and wines. And wow. Wow wow wow. Each main was enough for two people (they told us this before we went in) with huge, delicious
Meggy and I
Meggy, the hardcore River Plate fan, sold her soul and came to a Boca game with Judy and I. steaks on wooden boards, encircled at both ends by tapas. The wine was delicious, and I was pretty pumped to finally notice some chocolate notes in the bouquet. We ate and ate and ate, and I was forced to do my manly duty and finish everything off. Bets had been placed about how much it was going to cost, and the meal for the four of us came to 240 pesos. And, yeah, sure thats a lot of pesos. A whole $20 bucks each.
After dinner we went for a walk trying to find a tango show that Mindy had heard somewhere about, and we walked this way along cobbled streets, passing restaurants and bars, until we came across the Armenian Cultural Association. Who would've thought, eh, but inside there was a tango lesson going on. We walked on in, sitting down on the side only long enough to catch our not-lost breath before this old Argentinan man came on over and insisted that we dance. Neither thongs or the language barrier were going to stop us, but we nutted it out and got a few steps happening.
Then, all of a sudden, everybody cleared off. We turned
with a confused face to our Argentine tangoer, who motioned that everyone was going downstairs. We paid our 12 pesos ($4) entry, walked down a flight of stairs and found this great big hall, filled with people, small tables and chairs around a large dancefloor. The girls grabbed a table while I went to the bar to buy some water for our parched throats, and before long the Argentinian man was trying to drag us back onto the dancefloor.
The dance was a mix of tango and salsa, with a live band playing the tango tunes. They even had a singer, and I gushed thinking that my mum is probably really jealous of me. However, mulling over my lack of tango-prowess I soon gave in and closed my eyes, while Mindy, Judy and Krisz either pulled or prodded at my nose to stop me from going to sleep. We ended up catching a cab home at 2am, even though the night would have only been half over at six that morning.
The next morning Judy and I packed up our stuff at the hostel, throwing it over our shoulder in search for a new hostel. I was under
the impression that it was because, after one night, I was bored of the hostel we were staying at and thought I could use a change of scenery. I've sinced been informed that we moved because there was no available beds, but I maintain that I would have wanted to change anyway. Since the Metro line that we wanted to use was closed due to the smoke, we were forced to hop on a crowded bus which took us down the busy 9th of July Avenue towards our new hostel.
Well, we got to the Garden House, and were impressed by it, before being told that there was no room for us. What the, Judy and I thought. Its off season, and getting accomodation is difficult. Meggy, the girl on reception, informed us that an Argentinian rock band was playing a concert, and that that might be the reason that it was all full. I turned to Judy and asked, which famous Argentinian rock band? She looked confused. I looked worse.
We spent perhaps an hour with Meggy, chatting about the world before we all encouraged each other to go to the football match that was being played
San Telmo Markets
Tango music in the street. that evening. Boca Juniors vs. Newells Old Boys. Meggy told us that as she was a River Plate fan, she wouldn't be able to go to the game, but using our intense powers of persuasion Judy and I got the girl to succumb. We found another hostel around the corner from the Garden House, nice as well (if not quite as nice) before Meggy introduced us to the Argentinian herbal drink Mate on the upstairs patio.
We got picked up by the hostel by a tourist bus, which took us to the game. We were on one of the ends of the field, with the hooligans on the opposite end. There were no seats, only the terrace, but it was great because you were standing up the whole game anyway. The terraces are rather steep, though they have a series of metal railings that I assume are to stop people from falling the entire way to the bottom. They are outlawed in Europe, but I felt safe as the fans around us were only passionate rather than avidly passionate and angry. We could see, across the other side of the stadium, the hooligans jumping left to right in a
San Telmo Market
More tango music, this band was the one though that had played the other night at the milogna. human wave, their banners and flags waving. No flares were lit though, which was probably nice for my general safety.
The game was rather boring in the first half, but in the second it opened up quite a bit with a couple of goals, some classy, some not so. Boca ended up winning, and everyone was rather jubilant. Not that they weren't jubilant even when they should have been asleep.
We got back to the hostel around 9, and the plan was to meet Mindy and Krisz up at a bar (as Krisz was celebrating her birthday), but it all turned out badly when Judy and I decided, at 11pm, to take just a little nap before heading out. It didn't end up working out too well, and at 3am we decided, between mumbles, that perhaps we shouldn't go out. We had a nice sleep though, though I hope that we might get a chance to see Mindy today before she flies out later this afternoon. Otherwise I could always knock on her door in Europe!
Hearts and Minds,
Mark
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Sally
non-member comment
jealous? moi?
Of course I'm jealous! How come you would never come to dances with me and now you wander into a tango milonga like a pro. And I do read your blog.