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Published: December 24th 2010
(N) Remembering our month in Argentina, my mind immediately jumps to Buenos Aires. We had a lovely time before that, too, but my memories and impressions aren’t quite so vivid. Something inside me happens when I think of Buenos Aires, I hear music playing, random street scenes and pictures pop into my head and I am filled with a sort of longing that I can’t quite explain. It took a couple of days to “get” the city, as it doesn’t immediately strike you as beautiful, and we were rather overwhelmed by the amount of people and traffic. But once you get under the city’s skin, get out and about to explore the bars, restaurants, weekend markets and plazas with open air performances of every kind from tango to capoeira, suddenly a raw, gritty energy oozes from every corner, and you fall in love with it.
An Argentinian we befriended much later said that the people of his country are still trying to define their national identity, owing to their multitude of cultural backgrounds. While I do not want to argue his point, rarely have I been to a place more proud and unapologetic about its way and its people
– Buenos Aires is quintessentially Argentinian. And everything else pales in comparison.
Our first destination after leaving Chile was Mendoza, a very livable city in Argentina’s wine-growing region. It did not blow my mind but we spent a lovely few days there, not least because we met up with Kristina, a girl from Munich that we had befriended many months ago in Malawi. Kristina is also on a one year trip, with a very different itinerary up until now, and it was great to catch up and exchange travel tales. We even convinced her and her friend Victoria to change their bus tickets twice, so we could spend a bit more time together (actually we deliberately made them drunk and therefore unable to embark on their 12 hour bus journey). We spent a fun day visiting the region’s bodegas (wineries) on the back of bicycles. The day did not rate highly on the sophistication scale, neither did it come close to Franschoek et al in terms of natural beauty, but combine wine-tasting and cycling and it is impossible to not have a good time. It even made us temporarily forget the fact that we were in another expensive country
and it was time to hit the dorms. We had dodged them in Chile, mainly because the ridiculous exchange rate had put us in denial, but in light of our rapidly diminishing bank balance, we could no longer justify double rooms. Lucky us, we shared our first dorm with 4 19year-old girls from Texas, who were very friendly and kept asking us “Hey y’all! How was y’all’s day??” ....!!! Other than that, the hostel was lovely (as well as very popular); we even spent one night on a double bed in the garden under the stars after our room was no longer available. Definitely beat the dorms.
Perhaps owing to the considerable amount of red wine we drank, time in Mendoza kind of flew. We took in an amazing Sunday evening football match (local team vs River Plate – crazy atmosphere with flares being lit from inside the crowd and undoubtedly the foulest language we have ever heard) and before we knew it, it was time to to say goodbye to Kristina, Victoria and Mendoza and head on to Cordoba.
We had heard mostly negative things about Cordoba and didn’t have great expectations – we mainly headed there
to explore the province rather than the city. We were however pleasantly surprised to find a lively city with heaps of amazing street art and a general studenty, happening atmosphere. Sadly, we also had our first Bad Steak there – overcooked to death, bits of grizzle in it, with a whopping price tag. And it was one of many to come. Sorry folks, to disillusion you, but finding good steak in Argentina is total hit and miss. The meat is mostly very good but even after mastering how to order it in Spanish (varies locally; rather complicated), a lot of chefs just don’t know how to cook it. We resolved to try make our own in the future.
We only spent two nights in Cordoba – we were on a pretty tight schedule by now as we had decided to head down to Patagonia after all. (We had been concerned about a shortage of time and money and planned to leave it for a separate trip, but the draw proved too strong in the end.)
So we caught a bus to San Marcos Sierras, a tiny little town about three hours away – a secret tip from three
At the original hippie museum...
...with possibly even the original hippie!Argentinians we met in Bolivia. It’s a real hippie town, with brightly coloured houses, a truly laid back atmosphere, and long-haired artists everywhere – one of whom is the founder of the world’s first hippie museum. I was slightly apprehensive about visiting it - after all, doesn’t the concept of a commercial exhibition contradict all hippie values? – and expected it to be totally tacky. But it was nothing of the sort. The owner, Daniel, sat us down in a small room (the “museum”, but more like a shrine) adorned with an amazing, very personal collection of art and music memorabilia, and shared with us his own theory of the evolution of the hippie movement, tracing it back through history until Diogenes, an ancient Greek who renounced civilisation and instead chose to live a modest life in a tub in a marketplace. Daniel showed us pictures and read quotes from the Bible and philosophical writings to support his theory... what an interesting and original experience. In the end were given the opportunity to contribute to an ambitious piece of art work – a giant Peace sign made entirely out of empty wine bottles, assembled over the years by visitors and
friends, each bottle containing a personal hand-written message “to the people of the future”. I thought it was wonderful.
Our accommodation also followed the theme; our remote hostel was run and frequented by a tight knit community of hippie-dippie Argentinians who only spoke Spanish (I looked through the guestbook – not one English message there!). We initially felt a bit like sore thumbs, especially after my royally messing up the introduction –when I offered my hand on arrival, the girl at the door dismissed it with a raised eyebrow and leaned in to kiss me on the cheeks. Our mission: convince them that despite initial appearances, we are not stuck up European city folk. This didn’t seem easy as we struggled hugely with the Argentinian Spanish, but with a bit of effort, our hosts unveiled themselves as amazing and incredibly welcoming people who gave us a real insight into Argentinian life. We had an fabulous braai with them, went horseriding along a river in spectacularly pretty scenery, and were treated to an impromptu folklore dance presentation whilst being fed Fernet & Cola on a Sunday afternoon . On our last night, our communication problems had all but disappeared and
we sat on the rooftop of a caravan parked on a hill, drinking boxed red wine and having philosphical discussions under a full moon.
We didn’t want to leave– the place was one of those treasures that normal travellers don’t find, and we had such an amazing time with our new Argentinian friends. But it was time to hit Buenos Aires.
(M) So after another lengthy but altogether pleasant bus journey – the buses are as good as everyone says and despite missing the ultra-cute air stewardesses are better than BA business class – we arrived in Buenos Aires feeling refreshed and ready to hit the town. And what a town it is - simply captivating.
After checking into one of the nicest hostels we’ve stayed in on our whole trip, we took to the streets to start taking it all in. As Nina said, the place itself doesn’t have an immediate wow factor, so our first impression left a lot to be desired... but the people in the hostel were great and we quickly made new friends, including bumping into Jamie and Lisa, an awesome Scottish couple we’d met in Bolivia and had hoped to
do some more travelling with, but couldn’t make our dates work. But when these things are meant to work out, inevitably they do. (Actually, Jamie is English and from Newcastle, but pretends to be Scottish when it suits him – which is pretty much every time someone starts slagging off the English!) So on our first evening we headed for a highly recommended steak restaurant to sample some of Argentina’s finest – and on this occassion we certainly were not disappointed. After a cracking meal of Argentinian chorizo, steak and Malbec we headed for a La Bomba concert – something quite unique to Buenos Aires. Basically twelve drummers play spontaneously for two hours lead by a conductor who communicates only by hand signals. Playing to a crowded room in a place where they only serve beer by the litre, the result is nothing short of spectacular! Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to quench our excitement of finally being in Buenos Aires, so we ended up bar hopping home including a grand finale in the hostel roof-top bar, keeping everyone awake until five in the morning. I say unfortunately, because the next day - which was one of the few sunny days
we had in BA - was completely written off and consisted solely of eating junk food to bad Spanish cable TV. But hindsight is a wonderful thing and all that...
Apart from the distinct lack of sun, our timing for being in BA was less than ideal on a number of counts... firstly, the day after hangover day, when we were rearing to go to make up for lost time, was census day. Census day - which happens on a specific day every 10 years! – is when the Argentinian government attempts to count the number of people in the country. So basically everyone is forced to stay home and nothing – and I mean nothing – is open! It was like a ghost town... So in walking around the colourful La Boca (home to the famed Boca Juniors football team) and ultra-trendy areas of Recoleta and Palermo, without the people and hustle and bustle, a lot of imagination was required to get a feel for what these places were really like. So we promised ourselves to go back on the weekend, when they proved to be an entirely different experience.
Secondly, on Census day, Nestor Kirchner, former
Argentinian president and husband to the current president, Christina Nestor-Kirchner, suddenly died. He was also planning on running for office again in the next elections, so this took the country by complete surprise. What transpired after census day therefore, was a series of marches and processions around the city in honour of Nestor and Christina, along with the funeral et al. As interesting as it was to be there during this time, it also resulted in a disruption to pretty much everything and made getting around the city quite tricky.
But despite all this, we still managed to get out and about and make the most of our time there. One of the real highlights was spending two evenings at a club called “La Catedral”, aptly named given the setting – a huge hall reminiscent of an old warehouse, covered wall to wall in amazing bohemian art – only furnished with a few old tables and chairs surrounding a giant old wooden dance floor for tango and music concerts. And we’re not talking flashy tango shows here, just mostly “milongas” where people of every skill level (mostly amazing) take to the floor to get lost in the music and
ambience of the place. And the great thing about this place is that no two days are the same and you just don’t know what you’re going to get... It’s so easy for the hours just to drift away sipping Argentinian red wine and soaking up the incredible tango dancing... and despite our own futile attempts to learn tango, we were also treated to such incredible performances by local musicians which we could only describe as magical. A must do for anyone visiting BA.
The rest of our time was spent walking around the markets on the weekends in Recoleta and San Telmo, taking in exceptional tango shows on the sidewalks and in the plazas and enjoying amazing food and wine at a few of the city’s good but not overly expensive restaurants and bars. Yet after just a week in BA, we felt we still had a lot of unfinished business there, and we have promised ourselves we will go back one day, which I very much look forward to. But it was time to fly down to Patagonia, which was a real treat given the distance and cost. But having travelled quite a bit in the quest
to find the best the world has to offer, I knew this would be one of the absolute highlights of our trip and of my travels to date. Still, nothing could prepare me for the sheer magnitude of beauty that we were about to behold.
After touching down in El Calafate, we got a bus directly to El Chalten, a sleepy town reminiscent of a skiing village and the youngest town in Argentina, set in the mountains of a national park. After finding a great little hostel with an amazing view of the river and mountains which could also help solve our immediate cash flow problem (there is only one ATM in the town and it had run out of money!), we set off for an evening walk to one of the nearby waterfalls. As soon as we turned the corner out of the town and into the mountains, we were immersed in nature at its finest. The sun was low and hitting the snow-capped mountains in the background while glistening off the meandering river running down the valley. Being early spring, bright yellow flowers lined the pathways which cut through the plush green trees, dotted by old grey
tree trunks and fallen branches, the air fresh and fragrant with the distinct aroma of honey. This sensory overload was just a taste of things to come, and by the time we got back to the hostel as the sun was setting, we were brimming with excitement at being in truly one of the most beautiful places on this planet.
The next day we set off to hike to the base of Mount Fitz Roy, the highest mountain in the park which pierces the skyline with its stark jagged peaks. The hike was nothing short of spectacular, the highlight probably a little spot called the mirador, or viewing point, where you see Mt Fitz Roy in all its glory across the forest-covered valley. The difficulty with being so far south is that the weather is entirely unpredictable, and it’s often a race against time to reach the base before the clouds consume the mountain peaks. We made it just too late but still got a great feel for the spleandour of the place... with two different lagoons (one frozen white and the other bright turquois blue) lying in front of the sheer snow-covered cliffs. Quite breathtaking and despite our
best attempts, impossible to capture on camera.
Unfortunately the weather on our last day in El Chalten wasn’t great when we went ice trekking on the Viedma Glacier. While it’s the biggest in Argentina, it’s in no way the most beautiful as parts of the top are covered in dirt from where the two seperate glaciers collided all those years ago. Relative to anywhere else it would have been pretty spectacular, but when you’re in Patagonia the standards are entirely different and somehow you find yourself getting pretty demanding! Nevertheless it was pretty amazing to be on top of such a huge volume of ice, dotted with crevaces of pure white and piercing blue, surrounded by beautiful mountains to one side and grey/turquoise Lake Viedma to the other.
When evening came, we hopped on a bus down to El Calafate, and on the way could only marvel at the sunset we were treated to, decorating the purple blue sky with bright red and orange clouds overhanging the mountains surrounding Lake Argentina. Pretty incredible stuff... Still buzzing fron the beauty of the place, we rolled into iKeu Ken hostel at about 9pm and were greeted with the smells of
The after (asado) party
iKeu Ken hostel, El Calafate an asado (huge braai) and by the nicest bunch of guys who ran the place. Pretty soon we’d made more best friends and after consuming copious amounts of excellent meat and red wine, partied the night away to ripping Argentinia blues and seventies classics on the guitar– needless to say nothing could wrench the smile off Nina’s face! In the midst off all that amazing beauty, it was a curt reminder of the joys of travelling, no matter where you are in the world.
While we had had mixed luck with the weather in El Chalten, the one day we had set aside for visiting the Porito Moreno glacier in El Calafate was absolutely perfect. We got to the glacier at about lunchtime, and no matter how high our expectations, nothing could prepare us for what we were about to see. The drive there through Parque Nacional de los Glaciares was pretty incredible itself, but when we turned the corner to see the glacier in full view, you could just about hear twelve jaws hit the bottom of the bus simultaneously. It’s difficult to describe this incredible feat of nature. And again the pictures won’t do it any justice.
But we spent the afternoon until seven in the evening walking around the viewing platforms and having a picnic of sandwiches and red wine, absolutely marvelling at the glacier’s scale, setting and splendour, while listening out for the creaking blocks of ice as they break off and crash into the lake. This is by a good margin the most beautiful thing either of us has ever seen, and if you get a chance to head down that way, go, go, go.
Our last stop in Patagonia was Ushuaia, the southern-most city in the world and only 1000 kilometers from Antarctica, where we flew to the following day. If the weather was unpredictable where we’d just been, being so far south it’s commonplace to have all four seasons in one day, and we did. We took in a pretty cool boat trip in the Beagle Channel which separates Argentina from Chile, briefly stopping on one of the islands for a great panoramic view of the whole setting, and thanked our lucky stars we weren’t on the deck of a yacht, as some other poor souls were given the swell and biting wind that runs through the channel. We also went
The end of the world...
In the Beagle Channel south of Ushuaia hiking in the Tierra del Fuego national park - which was beautiful in its own right but verging on disappointing given where we had just been - and sampled some incredible seafood which Ushuaia is renowned for; namely king crab and black hake, which was simply out of this world. On the whole, apart from its title and proximity to Antactica, this wasn’t the most remarkable place and two days was plenty of time there. So a heavy snowstorm and five hour delay later, we flew back to Buenos Aires where we had to spend one more night, having missed our connecting bus to Iguazu Falls. But it gave us a good chance to catch up on things and we set off a day later on a 24-hour bus journey to the northern most part of Argentina, and a starker contrast from Ushuaia you won’t find anywhere in the same country.
Suddenly we were back in the jungle and the freezing cold of the Beagle channel had turned into exreme heat and humidity. We spent the entire day walking around the Argentinian side of the falls, going back to some places to see them in different daylight... it’s easy
to spend so much time there because it’s such an impressive sight. The sheer volume of water and the plethora of different falls is astounding, but what really makes it special is the setting of lush green jungle, alive with monkeys and all sorts of other amazing creatures. This place is another must-see in my opinion and another reason why Argentina has to be rated as one of the most incredible travel destinations on earth. So the next day we crossed the border and into Brazil feeling inspired, but also a little anxious at having to tackle a whole new language and culture and not quite knowing what to expect. But once we arrived in Rio, our love affair with everything Brazilian started, and as I sit here writing on our second-last day in this incredible country, my heart feels heavy that we soon have to say goodbye.
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