Advertisement
Published: September 16th 2006
Argentina man, Argentina.
Why this place isn't a major tourist destination I'll never know. First impressions of Buenos Aires? Amazing. This was unlike anything people in Britain would imagine South America to be like. It reminded me of Paris or London: it has beautiful architecture and is very monumental. This was a place of espressos, stylish dressing and European tastes. There was no indication of the country's turbulent history, or that the economy had suffered when the peso was devalued in the '90s (although there were often demonstrations in the city centre calling for increased wages).
Of course I must mention the steaks and wine. Every day brought a new taste sensation. I love Meat. Mmmmmmm. And the Argies have the best in the world. A great big steak and a beautiful bottle of Malbec wine would set one back about 4 pounds. And the pizzas were drowned in cheese. Just thinking about it makes me depressed- knowing that I can't eat like that any more. The way of life was so different in BA: people would eat at 10pm, go to a bar at midnight, and then head to a club at 2 or 3am and dance till
about 7am. It's a city that never sleeps (and never goes to work seemingly). And it's surprising how easily I slipped into this lifestyle. Thus my time (I don't really know how long I stayed...) in BA can only be summarised by splitting it into two distinct sections: the sightseeing and the drinking. Because the drinking is unimportant I'll keep to the tourism part. I will say though that everyday I woke up feeling like a husband suffering from domestic abuse. And my wife's name was Rum. Every day I would go back to Her because "this time it'll be different". And it always was. At first. But the next day I would wake up battered and bruised.
BA has several areas, each divided by affluence, and each with its own characteristics. The city centre is a bustling commercial centre with stunning architecture and the world's widest inner city road (with about 20 lanes- a bugger to cross).
San Telmo is an area of cobbled streets, famous for its antiques markets and tango.
La Boca, at the port, is a vivid working class neighbourhood, famous for its colourful streets and bohemian hang-outs. We went to see the first
game of the Argentinian league season: Boca Juniors v Banfield. Boca are the team famous for rearing Maradona, who has his own spectators box in the stadium. I thought I saw him next to me at one point. But it was just a look-alike. Those guys just love him! Just like in Brazil, the standard of football was surprisingly poor even thought Boca won 3-0, with Champo legend Martin Palermo bagging two goals.
Recoleta is a more wealthy area, and home to the famous cemetery for the rich and the famous of BA. The cemetery is like a little city surrounded by walls, and filled with ridiculously expensive marble homes for the dead. It's crazy that in death people can be in far more luxury than the living. A very bizarre place.
Palermo (most visited for drinking) is a nice area filled with parks and statues. I went to the Evita museum to find out about one of the most iconic figures in Argentina. She seemed like a very charasmatic and socially conscious person, who had helped to improve conditions for the working class, women and children. Unfortunately the museum seemed not to want to tell the story
of why this woman, who married president Perron, came under so much criticism despite being represented as a saint... Maybe I'll learn the answers from the Madonna movie. Far easier than reading about it... and I'm sure far more historically accurate! Madonna is very intelligent apparently...
A nice day trip away from the city was to a town called Tigre. The main attraction is a strange boat trip around the canals lined with holiday homes for the well-off. The houses were massive, but the most unusual thing was a mansion entirely cased in a glass cube. Were they doing some sort of atmospheric experiment or something? I know not. Maybe there's a film about that too...
Another side trip from BA was getting the ferry over to Uruguay for a well-deserved rest from the big city. We arrived in Colonia del Sacremento, a small town that had previously been the port for smuggling goods into Argentina. It had both Spanish and Portuguese influences as ownership had changed hands over the years. It was a lovely wee place of cobbled streets and nice cafes along the shore. Next we went to Uruguay's capital, Montevideo, a miniature version of BA.
The order of the day was Meat. At the docks there was a Meat Market, basically a giant warehouse filled with barbecue after barbecue. Paradise. I had perhaps the greatest steak of my life: huge (as big as my head), and without a trace of fat. Uruguay seemed like a fairly stable country, and was as developed as Argentina, a country that the people there hate because they perceive the Argies as being snobby. Whatever.
After a few more nights-out and many goodbyes in BA we headed to Rosario, the birthplace of Che Guevara. We arrived late and couldn't find the hostel so had to stay in the Rosario Plaza. Luxury at 4 times the price of a hostel. Rosario was a cool city, boasting an impressive monument and eternal flame for the designer of Argentina's flag. It is very pedestrian-oriented, and is lined with beaches. I was lucky to get into a music festival in the park for free, where they had all sorts of traditional music, punk bands and tribute bands for the mighty Creedence Clearwater Revival.
Next it was Mendoza, the heart of the wine region. Sweet. We headed for a tour of the wineries within
2 hours of arrival, and visited both large commercial and family-run wineries. At the end we went for a lunch of epic proportions: on entering the room there was massive platters of food laid out, and huge wine glasses ready to be attacked. They didn't let our glasses get even half empty (and yes, I am a pessimist), and so by 4pm we were totally blitzed. Apart from that, Mendoza was a great place. A university town, it had lovely squares in the town centre where I spent afternoons philosophising and scratching my chin (joined by shameless rampant Irish men).
Since I had only 6 days left in South America, and I'd heard horror stories of people being stranded in Argentina when trying to cross the border into Chile because of bad weather conditions, I had to move on quickly. The crossing into Chile went without any trouble though. And there was some breathtaking scenery when crossing the Andes: snow-covered mountains and ski resorts. The border crossing itself was extreme. Those Chileans are either very paranoid, or because they command a whole coast, Chile is where all the countries ship goods out from, and there are the associated problems
of smuggling as a result.
The scenery on the drive into Santiago was scarred by abandoned industrial waste and thick clouds of smog. After just one night in Santiago (it seemed like a fairly nice big city like all the others) I hopped it to the coast to stay with my Chilean friend who I'd met in BA. Vina del Mar was a tropical paradise. As my friend's grandfather owned a bit of property, I was allowed to stay in their beachfront apartment. Life, sometimes, is such a bitch. I was looked after by my upstairs neighbour, and went to parties and met lots of interesting and challenging people. One guy seemed to see me as the face of Western ignorance, and demanded to know my reasons for travelling to South America when my Spanish and education were so bad. He didn't accept the old "I travel so as to learn about the world" line. We had a long, drawn-out conversation, and it really made me think.
There are many reasons why I travel. Firstly, I wanted to go to South America because I wrote so many essays about it in uni, and really wanted to experience it
first-hand. To gain a relative understanding of a place one must actually go there and experience it- otherwise writing about it just becomes another form of domination. I do need to learn the languages and meet more people who live there though. The guy who I was talking with wanted to know why I would come and bring my wealth and ignorance, when people are dying. He failed to see that he was part of the elite- they were all very well-off- who are very important in shaping the lives of the poor. Not that they are to blame as such, but it's one of the many half-truths as to why living conditions are as they are.
Travelling is also about independence and self-reliance. It is about being challenged, learning, being inspired, being surprised. It can be for selfish reasons- I didn't want to just settle down to a routine for life- I wanted not to settle for the comfort zone. One has to act and make an effort to achieve one's goals. One of the reasons I'm travelling is to figure out what my goals are....
Leaving South America was difficult. It was sad. I got the
plane from Santiago on August 20th. Travelling there had become a way of life, and a pleasure. I loved all the countries I had visited, each for entirely different reasons. I had met many cool people and learned so much. It taught me that there is a lot of ignorance about South America back in Britain.
So that was the quarter way mark in my travels. I flew into New Zealand, where people can drink tap water and even flush the toilet paper. It took me a week to stop saying "Hola" and "Gracias".
Advertisement
Tot: 0.129s; Tpl: 0.018s; cc: 9; qc: 61; dbt: 0.0704s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Ewan Foster
non-member comment
Cunt
Your a fucking lucky cunt and i hope you know i hate you with every part of my soul. Hope your havin fun while we're all still here in this dank shithole that you call home. Gimme a heads up ASAP