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Published: August 7th 2008
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Cordoba is the seat of the regions early learned ones, and continues as a modern Univesity town. The Jesuits had a major base here with their unversities, and we figured 8 pesos (approx NZ$3) would be worth a quick tour with an English guide. Little prepared were we for the armed security guard locking us and our guide into a large room, only to find ourselves in the company of the old Jesuit library including the third oldest bible in the world. It is in 10 huge volumes, leather bound and hand written, in seven different languages. And the cabinets of so many other amazing works dating back the 15th century. Unbelievable. The expulsion of the then powerful and wealthy Jesuit order had left many amazing artifacts, including architecture, pottery and books, scattered around the countryside - not to mention the ongoing legacy of the religious footprint they contributed to.
For the humble tourist, Cordoba city is only a hub, with a fabulous bus system waiting to wisk you (bags and all) ito the surrounding countryside:
*Alta Gracia tempted us with Jesuit buildings and the Che Guevara museum
*Villa General Belgrano, a German themed town only slightly Disney inspired,
Villa General Belgrano
Site of the infamous Oktoberfest offered a curiosity of unusual buildings - made of ... wood, and the most magnificent beer we have ever tasted.
*La Cumbre, the sleepy siesta town of the Sierras gave us the quietest nights sleep we have had since NZ, and some cycle touring of the nearby hills to find a Black Howler Monkey 'Rehab' centre and some lovely views out over the region.
*Capilla del Monte (Arlene's choice): the hub of global UFO sightings, and very humble 'museo' - a private house with a ew faded computer print outs of various events. Another little sierra town, but without the warm friendly feel of La Cumbre. Probably the first 'anti-social dogs' we have seen, growling from behind the fences.We missed one of the buses, and instead cruised the little town in the dark to find buzzing street markets with a birthday present for Benj's Dad (which should arrive approx 1 month after the fact).
On Benj's insistence the Che Guevara museum had to be visited. We overcame our trepidation that it would be a flea market of shirts and hats, and therefore delighted to find an honest and informative house decked with the upbringing and life of a
very remarkable Argentine who dedicated his life to the spread of Communism, and was one humble but potent local element of the wider cold war raging across the globe. It was most interesting to find tangible information about the man behind the ubiquitous T-shirt, and see the number of interested Spanish speaking South Americans attending the museum. From what we could make out (in our limited comprehension), there was no judgement on the merits of the political system he fought for, nor the tremendous efforts the CIA put into his most untimely demise. And a relief to find little for sale.
So in between soaking up things gone by, Salta also marked the start of these two footsore travellers starting to chill down a bit, and do things 'normal' people do. Even if they are dressed funny, and don't speak very well. Like getting an errant computer fixed by having a new operating system installed and trying to sort this out en Espanol. Posting a box of surplus stuff back to NZ proved to be an enlightening local experience that needs some re-telling:
It was a wise move appraoching the post office information person for help. She weighed the
Neuvo Cordoba
Uninspiring, but practical for a growing city - especially with this many students...
This is Brockworth Place on acid... goods at 1.85kg - fantastic as under the 2kg limit. Directed to go to the booth through there, and get it boxed. So we are waiting in the queue to be served, and the boxing man was ignoring us. OK. Fit in and be a patient tourist. Hola?... HoLA? So begins a stilted discussion of our needs - a box to send this gear overseas. We figured the message was not getting through very well when he pulled out two envelopes. Lacking a better option, Benj turns his phrasebook to the man to point out the word 'parcel'. The guy turns the phrase book side on rather than reading across - this is weird. Finally the penny drops with us that this guy is blind and the yellow sign probably says so in Spanish. So after an amazing few minutes, we had a beautifully boxed, wrapped and stringed package with little metal fasteners on the string to send home. Delighted, we braved the long queue, only to eventually be told that the nicely boxed parcel was now 2.06kg, and terribly sorry but this is 'not possible'. With us approaching the abyss of complete resignation, the blind man was again required
to patch up the mess following the surgical removal of 0.08 grams worth of contents, and the package was despatched to destinations afar.
So Cordoba and its surrounding slice of Argentina has been a delight for these two little transients. Muchas gracias. Tu esta muy interesante.
PS please note the photos of Cordoba City are on this blog. The photos of the Cordoba region (on Arlene's insistence) are on following blogs so they are better grouped. Enjoy!
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