Argentina

---

Don't cry for me - I'm in Argentina (eating cakes and steaks).

And so to Argentina. Nearing the end of the trip, and with concerns over making the budget last, with ideas of going to a very special event in Canada - details later - we crossed into probably the second most expensive country in South America (after Brazil). The bus journey from Puerto Varas to Bariloche was pleasant enough, and only took 7 hours. We passed through some hills, observing an oddly silver forest below. It look petrified, or metallic even. When we drew closer to the forest, we discovered that the hue was down to volcanic ash. The area looked very strange, like a desert with forest and mountains. The water around looked pretty contaminated.



The border crossing was fairly simple, again free for Irish people. On the way, we also had some great luck: we met Stan and Patty, from Calgary. I can now reveal the secret Canadian jaunt. The Calgary EXPO sci-fi and comic book event is on, and this year is a pretty special year: the 25th anniversary of Star Trek The Next Generation! The whole cast of TNG will be there, along with other guests. I had been thinking of getting up there from Rio de Janeiro, but it was looking prohibitively expensive. So, back to the luck...Stan and Patty, from Calgary remember, offered to let us stay at their place during the convention! A little more research later revealed that flights to Europe from Canada were cheaper than flights from Brazil! Free accommodation and cheaper flights = STAR TREK TRIP!



Anyway, on with Argentina. We arrived in San Carlos de Bariloche, one of the larger towns in northern Patagonia. Bariloche is on the shores of the gigantic lake Nahuel Huapi, with fantastic views of mountains across the water. It has a laid back, resort kind of feel, and is indeed a retreat of choice for many Argentinians. There is an abundance of accommodation, cabanas mostly, but we stayed in Periko's hostel. Recommended to us by Matt, our car rental buddy in Puerto Varas, Periko's is one of the nicest places I've stayed in on the entire trip. It, and the whole town in fact, have a distinctly Alpine feel. The main square in particular, with its stone buildings and pointed arches, feels very alien to South America. Bariloche is known for two things, aside from the tranquil atmoshpere: steak and chocolate. On our first night, we went to El Boliche de Alberto restaurant with Stan and Patty. Some say it has the best steak in Argentina...I'm not arguing. Áine and I shared one. It was more than sufficient, and it was perfectly seasoned and cooked (medium-rare, pick and juicy). We got to try some of the famous chocolate the next day, when Stan and Patty graciously shared some with us. Chocolate shops can be found all over the town, all selling home made stuff. It is pricey, but pretty fantastic.



After a peaceful sleep (in a dorm, imagine that!) we rose late for breakfast, heading out to walk along the lake afterwards. The winds on the lake are pretty strong, whipping up some wave action, so it was almost like being back at the shore. The stony shore and fresh, cool air made for a very pleasant walk. Unfortunately, there was some rubbish along the shore; you would think people would want to protect natural beauty like this, it's not something I can understand. As with any windy walk, we soon became hungry, and went to buy supplies. We had lunch back at the hostel with Stan and Patty, quickly becoming firm travel buddies, then spent the afternoon researching the area and Argentina in general. A delicious dinner of roast chicken and spuds in the evening, and we closed out another day. In the morning, we set out to stretch our legs a little more. Cerro Otto, a large hill and home to a couple of ski resorts, is about 2km from town. We walked out, and ambled up the mountain bike trail. It was steep, with dusty soil, but we enjoyed the walk up among the trees. The track would have been insane to cycle down - large jumps off rocks and sudden twists and unexpected trees.



On the way to the trail, we were joined by a very friendly alsatian. We expected that, like most of the dogs around, he would follow us for a bit, departing when the likelihood of getting our sandwiches seemed low. Instead, he was our steady companion all the way up the trail and further along the road to the ski resort. When we headed off the road towards one of the better viewpoints in the area, Piedro de Hasburgo (a 45 minute hike), he just kept following. Obviously he lies in wait for hikers and gets his exercise with them. All along the way, he was chasing birds and stamping on lizards, reappearing at our side after adventures in the bush - covered in spiky bits of plants. He had a great day, as did we. We shared our water with him at the viewpoint, and gave him some salami, while we had our lunch. Piedro de Hasburgo has a fantastic view over small Gutierrez lake and some other hills in the area, and it was a really beautiful place for a picnic. Lunch over, we hiked back down to town. Finally, our canine companion departed when we passed his house; he was loyal up to the point when he passed his food bowl.



Cerro Otto pretty much took up our day, and in the evening we made preparations to depart. We were headed to Trevelin, originally one of the Welsh colonies in Argentina. Miners, tired of conditions and life at home, departed Wales in their thousands, settling mainly on the east coast of Argentina in places like Gaiman. Some went further inland in Patagonia, and to the north; Trevelin was one such site. They built a mill there; the red brick building is still standing (currently undergoing repair). We took the bus to Esquel, the larger town in the area, and boarded a local one to Trevelin. We arrived in the odd little town, with its mix of paved roads and dirt, and its octagonal centre "square", and walked to Casa Verde, where we had booked a dorm for two nights. It was immediately apparent that there wasn't a whole lot in the town itself; it consisted of a small town centre and a long main street running from it. Trevelin did have some charm though, due in no small part to yet another spectacular mountain view. Our two main objectives in Trevelin were to see some of the Welsh artifacts at the museum, and to have a Welsh high tea or Tiffen. On the first day, we accomplished the latter goal at Nain Maggie tea house. The best cup of tea since leaving Ireland awaited us - they blend it themselves - along with a massive assortment of baked goods. Brown and white bread (with cheese), scones (with jam), dulce de leche and coconut cake, cherry pie, rum raisin brac, jam sponge and milk tart. We ate half, and kept the rest for dessert the next day.



After a poor sleep at Casa Verde - a hugely fat, ignorant Argentine snored loudly all night, then rose at 06:30 seemingly for the purpose of inspecting his rustly plastic bag collection - we set out to see the Welsh Settlers Museum. Normally, it is housed in the old mill building; during renovations on the mill, the artifacts are on display at the civic centre. It was just 5 pesos to enter, less than a euro, and they had a lovely collection of items. The Welsh brought a way of life with them, reflected in their possessions. A butter churn, a porcelain tea set, some binoculars, clothing, a personal grooming kit, etc. There was also a large Edison gramophone, the kind that read metal cylinders rather than records. They had brought several records of hymns, and a language course - presumably in Spanish. It is somewhat poignant to think of these simple folk so far from home, but they did quite well for themselves. Many were able to send children back to Wales or England for education.



In the evening, we had dinner at the hostel with a Craig and Gemma, a Welsh/English pair who were travelling together. I lit a large fire in the small, seperate building used for barbecues, and we used the glowing embers to cook potatoes, corn on the cob and some lovely steak. Not quite as thick or as high quality as in El Boliche, but not bad at all. The leftover cake made a perfect dessert, and we shared some good wine and conversation too.



After another poor nights sleep - fat bastard snoring again - we headed back to Bariloche. It was just for one night, as we departed for Mendoza the following day. The bus ticket for Mendoza was pretty expensive, around 75 euro each; Argentinian buses are sometimes more expensive than flying. Around this time, we decided to add Paraguay to our itinerary. The second poorest country in South America, it is nonetheless a pleasant and safe place to travel, and it will help us stretch the budget out so we can enjoy the remaining time rather than constantly worry about the pennies. In Bariloche, Áine had a snooze and I went to get supplies for the bus journey (19 hours, so we needed lunch, dinner and breakfast with us). Stan and Patty (from Calgary, remember?) met us in the evening, and it turned out they were also going to Mendoza in the morning, albeit on a different bus, 2 hours later. We took care of some small tasks before catching the bus - changing left over Chilean Pesos, and retrieving Áine's ATM card from a bank whose machine had swallowed it previously - and headed to the station for our long trip north.



And yes, it was long. We headed out more or less on time, through still more of the beautiful countryside that is the hallmark of South America. After a while though, we were offered a closer look than we had desired: the front window upstairs on the bus shattered. As the bus hit bumps, the window shook in and out, getting ever worse. In the end, the staff closed the curtains and shoved a mop between the window and the front seat - at least if the window totally collapsed, it wouldn't fall inwards. We had to drive slowly, around 60kph. When we finally pulled in at Neuqen, a medium sized city in the desert region, we had lost over two hours. Sure enough, Stan and Patty pulled in shortly after we did. We waited over an hour and a half for the window to be replaced, then set off again. It was worth the wait, as within an hour of leaving Neuqen we drove through an extremely impressive lightning storm, accompanied by savage rain. Windscreens are pretty useful under such circumstances. The lightning was striking several times per second, some huge arcs visible through the fog. After all of this, we actually slept surprisingly well, and pulled into Mendoza fairly fresh. It took 21 hours.



We had arranged to stay at Chimbas hostel, a little outside of town, for a week. They had a promotion on, stay six nights and get the seventh free - private room. We had been moving around a lot, staying only a couple of days in each place, so we elected to have a chill out week. Mendoza is a large city, so there would be no shortage of things to see when we did decide to venture out. It was much hotter in the north, well over 30 degrees, and our unwelcome fellow visitors - the mosquitos - were out in force. Nonetheless, Chimbas was a quiet, laid back place, and we were able to save money by preparing all our meals there. Chimbas also had a small pool to cool off in. We had a look around the immediate area, and shopped for our supplies for the week.



Over the next few days, we slept long hours and made some preparations for moving on. We did laundry, bought anti-malarials for Paraguay, picked up deet and antibiotics, bite cream - pretty much all we'll need to finish the trip through some of the mossie infested malarial areas, like Iguazu falls. We did a lot of reading, and met Stan and Patty a few times for beers and dinner. We went to the park a few times; San Martin park is huge, lined with avenues of large, old trees, and is a nice place to bring lunch. The sunny weather made it especially nice. Unfortunately, it does have quite an amount of litter though - again something that people should be looking after and aren't. The city itself is modern and attractive, plenty of green spaces around. Parts are slightly run down; it is like a slightly less attractive Santiago. There is a large central plaza, with four satellite parks around it to the NE, NW, SE and SW. There is a large pedestrian zone in the middle, with plenty of shopping and cafés and restaurants. The people are pretty friendly, always stopping to offer directions if you glance at a map, etc., and helping out with Spanish when you are reduced to mime.



On our last day in Mendoza, we went to rent a bike and cycle around the wineries. The Mendoza countryside is pleasant, mostly lined with old trees. It is a semi-arid region, though very green, as it is covered in vineyards and olive groves. The dry soil actually makes for excellent grapes, apparently, as it causes the roots to go deep in search of water, absorbing lots of nutrients along the way. We rented our bikes from the very amiable Mr. Hugo, accepting the huge glass of wine he thrust at us before sending us onto the busy road on his bikes. Cycling lanes and drivers aware of the wined up cyclists make it safe, though. We began at the wine museum, where you can see the tools of the trade, from olden days and more recently, including chemists glassware and coopers tools (coopers make wooden barrels, but you knew that). All of the oak barrels used in Mendoza are medium toast (a measure of how long the oak is roasted; has a great impact on the flavour of wine), and mostly American oak (adds more to the scent than French oak, but alters the flavour less).



Our first stop was at an olive oil place, named Historias y Sabores. Aside from the oils, they produce fruit liquers, chocolate, tapanades and jams. Our little taster included pumpkin jam, olive pesto, black olive tapanade, white and milk chocolate and two liquers - orange for me and dulce de leche and banana for Áine. We moved on to our first proper booze of the day - beer at a microbrewery. They also served some very tasty empanadas, and we were in need of soakage. It was an informal spot, with bus seats laid out in a garden to sit and sip on.



After some lovely ales, we got back on our bikes and cycled along to Vistandes vineyard. Vistandes do a very decent tour, showcasing their process and vast storage facilities. We moved on to the tasting; the most interesting wine was a very unusual 2007 Malbec. In contrast to the very modern Vistandes was Familia Tomasino, a vineyard over 140 years old. Their vines are older and larger, and their process more traditional. For all that, their tasting experience lacks the involvment you feel at the modern spots. We made one more wine stop at Tempus Alba, one of the nicest places we visited where we tasted syrah and pleno, two varieties we had never had before - excellent. We dropped the bikes back to Mr. Hugo (receiving another another huge glass of wine) before heading back to the hostel. It was a really pleasant day; the countryside, the sun, the food and the wine. The vineyards vary greatly in size and style, so there's something for everyone - ultra-modern faciltites producing chemically perfect wines, to old, traditional vineyards with complicated, varying wines.



The next day, with only the slightest of hangovers, we boarded another all day bus to Cordoba. We were pretty well rested from our week in Mendoza, and looking forward to another city to check out. The bus was similar to the others we've taken, though this one had no coffee on the go, and we suffered some intolerable cruelty aboard: 3 Adam Sandler movies. Even in Spanish they were awful. We got into Cordoba around 20:30, and took a cab to our hostel, The One hostel on Bv. San Juan. It was early enough, so we went for a quick walk down the street. Immediately, the impression was that Cordoba is much more modern and upmarket than Mendoza. The street was lined with excellent food: parillas, pizza restaurants, specialist empanada places, fine dining and fast food (meaning lomito sandwiches). There was also several wine shopes and bakeries. At the end of the road, a small shopping mall and a theatre were around the large roundabout, and a few expensive looking cafés and bars. A good start.



The next day was St. Patrick's day. One year previous, I was in Mitchell's Scottish bar at the waterfront in Cape Town. Hard to believe it has been that long. We met up with Stan and Patty again, and went for lunch at a place they had heard about called La Vieja Esquina (the Old Corner). They serve Locro, a local stew made with corn and pork, and humitas, similar to Locro but with no meat, and with sweet potato. It was seriously tasty stuff, and they had pretty good Malbec wine for 7 pesos per (huge) glass, too. The heat was really climbing after lunch, so we retreated to the hostl for a siesta. Later, we went to meet Stan and Patty and their friends Dave and Cheryl at Clarke's Irish bar. I had avoided Irish bars until this point; I had seen enough of them back home. It was their idea to go, and seeing as it had been over a year, I allowed myself the lapse. It worked out well enough though - they had cheese and onion Tayto and Monster Munch! Don't know how I made it a year without them. We had a few drinks there, adding a young Australian who was drinking alone to our group, then headed for dinner at Betos, near our hostel. They have two restaurants next door to each other; one is a fancy parilla, and the other does lomitos and chips. After the large lunch, we wanted something lighter. Áine and I had lomitos, but tried some of the grilled meat the others got; most interesting were the intestine (not as bad as you'd think), and the pituitary gland. Pituitary gland is very marbled, so quite flavourful, though it was a bit salty. After a couple more beers in a bar below our hostel, we turned in. Not quite the large Paddy's day celebration we're accustomed to, but then again we were probably home before the party kicked off - Argentines like to go out at midnight or later, returning home after sunrise.



Not a whole pile was accomplished the next day, to be honest. We extended our stay for another night in Cordoba, and booked the bus ticket to Buenos Aires. We did get out for a walk, and had some humitas at La Vieja Esquina. We watched "The Devil Inside" at the hostel - a good candiate for worst movie ever - and tried a variety of Empanadas from a local bakery for dinner. The rest was soothing slightly painful heads, and resolving to avoid booze for a while. The bus to Buenos Aires was pretty standard - expensive, comfortable enough, coffee available on board, shit movies. We pulled into BA around 20:00, spending a long time in traffic. The bus had to queue for a while before pulling in; the one bus station serves around 7 million people per day. We got our bags and headed for the metro. Immediately outside the station, someone tried to stand in our way in the narrow pavement, slowing us down for pickpockets. I pushed past, and we moved on. Buenos Aires is rife with theft, as we would find again later.



Our hostel was Arrabal, in a pretty good location near the San Telmo area. San Telmo is kind of up-market, while retaining the charm of some of the older buildings and facades. Currently, Buenos Aires is in the process of demolishing everything old and replacing it with very ugly buildings, so see these places while they still exist if you come. The hostel was pretty basic, and a bit crowded. It didn't make for a very restful stay, but it was cheap. On our first night we took a brief look around the area: several nice restaurants, fast food places and a few kiosks, nothing dramatic. In the morning, a guy I met over a year ago in Granada in Spain came to town to give us a guided tour. Luciano Menez lives in La Plata, 60km from Buenos Aires. I love meeting up with people I've known on the trip, and it was really generous of him to come all the way in just to see us. Luciano also invited us to stay with him in La Plata, but unfortunately we had to move on. For the tour, we went to see some of the major buildings (like the Pink Palace, featuring the balcony from "Evita"), and visited some great cultural sites. We went for coffee and churros in Café Tortoni, a gathering place and salon for the literary and artistic greats in BA's heyday. Luciano had a "submarine"; you get a cup of hot milk and a chocolate in the shape of a submarine. Dissolve the chocolate in the cup, and you get liquid bliss. Tortoni has gotten a little expensive as the tourist crowd has discovered it, but the quality and the beautiful interior, including the hand painted glass roof, makes it worth it.



We walked on through La Boca, a non-touristy area near the stadium where Boca Juniors play. Boca Juniors were founded by an Irishman back in the day, and are the team of choice for the working classes. Their blue and yellow colours are proudly displayed all over the neighbourhood. Games are only allowed on Sundays, so extra police can be brought in that day; hooliganism is common. We never would have seen this neighbourhood if not for Luciano, as it really isn't on the radar. The old tenement buildings, made of tin sheeting and wooden frames, are still standing. They are a rusty testament to the immigration patterns and living conditions of the past. We experienced another bonus in coming to La Boca: Chorripan. Chorripan is available most places, but the authentic Chorri is to be had near the stadium. You get a piece of bread, right, and take a fresh, thick sausage off the parilla (the sausages are made from intestine, and other interesting bits), cut the sausage in half and put in in the bread. No need for butter - the grease soaks into the bread and softens it right up. Slather the whole thing in Chimichurri, the famed Argentine condiment, and add ketchup or mayonaise or mustard or cheese sauce or hot sauce - or all five - and munch down. Divine.



We finished up by visiting the docks, an area known as El Caminito. This was the Ellis Island of Buenos Aires, where immigrants arrived in the thousands each day. Frequently, Luciano said, ships that were rejected at Ellis Island (for having ill people, or criminals etc., on board) would try their luck here, and usually got in. El Caminito does not have much in the way of information on display about this history, which is a shame really. Another great shame is the state of the river. Apparently on of the most contaminated in the world, it is a soapy, scummy cesspool, covered in plastic waste. The nearby area is quite pleasant though, with a variety of restaurants doing lunchtime tango shows and some tenements converted into souvenir shopping area.



We said goodbye to Luciano and repaired to the hostel for the evening. The next day was...less pleasant. I was pretty exhausted with the heat, the poor sleep in noisy dorms and our extensive walk the day before. Also, I neglected to drink as much water as I should have. We were on the metro, and it was sweltering and packed. The end result was an inexcusably girly fainting, on the way to Palermo (a modern shopping and cafés kind of area). I had never fainted before, and when you're travelling you need to be careful about such things - odd virus from Africa? Dengue fever? Food poisoning? Allergic reaction in a new place? We went to the nearby German Hospital, as they have English speaking doctors, and I got a consultation. We needed prescriptions for anti-malarials, etc., anyway, so the visit killed two birds with one stone. The doctor did a blood test: all normal. Just a benign fainting due to the heat and crowds on the metro. Passing out was an odd experience, one I had never had before. I was making for the door off the train, knowing I felt unwell, when my vision became filled with blue and yellow flashes. I was probably out for 4 or 5 seconds, and I remember feeling people bumping into me as I got back up and shuffled off. I sat on the platform for a few minutes, then got up and headed off, feeling fine again. I think the worst thing was that I gave Áine a bit of a fright.



Then, later, as we came back from the Palermo area on the metro again, some people started pushing to get off the train. I raised my hand to brace myself, then remembered that that was a stupid idea. Too late, though - my phone was already gone. Slick operation, and I wasn't at my best after the earlier events, but still - felt like a bit of an amateur. I stopped the guys who were pushing, and they didn't try to resist. Obviously they didn't have the phone on them, then. Another passenger pointed at a young guy in a hat. He definitely had something to do with it - he was carrying an empty bag and was bricking it when I grabbed him - but the phone wasn't on him either. They must have handed it off to another person. Not having any right to detain anyone, and probably having broke the law by searching the little git, we left him to go on. A very nice lady brought us to the police office in the station and translated for us; in typical Latin American fashion, they were less than interested. We were directed to the main station. First, I returned to the hostel to change all my passwords online - the phone was secure, but you never know - and to report the theft to 3. They shut down my account, and sent a signal to turn the phone into a brick. Likely they will still be able to wipe it and install their own stuff, but they won't get any of my data. It was just a phone, but I had a few pictures on it from the trip that I wasn't happy to lose.



I spent some time the next day getting paperwork together for my insurance claims - very glad I extended it for the end of the trip. We filmed a little video to send home to Áine's parents for their 40th wedding anniversary, and picked up a ticket to move on to Posadas. Posadas is on the border with Paraguay, our next destination. The next morning, we took our final long distance Argentine bus. The company was Tigre Iguazu, probably the best we used. It was overnight, but we slept quite well, and they had a pretty amazing cold plate dinner for us. In Posadas, we caught a local bus and walked the few blocks to our hostel, Vuela el Pez (flight of the fish). It was definitely a basic spot; as the only hostel in town they don't have to do much. Our private room was pretty ok though, with an ancient but functioning air cooler. They had a small pool in the yard too, which was just as well as the water supply to Posadas was cut off. The pool water was used to flush the toilets, and boiled to wash dishes. We took a long stroll around the town, which turned out to be quite nice. They had an abundance of ice cream places and flashy shops; Encarnacion, across the border in Paraguay, is a major shopping destination for Northern Argentines, due to the much lower prices and taxes. What you can't get there is available in Posadas, like high end electronics with actual guarantees, etc.



The nicest part of town was the river walk. Paraguay is right on the other bank, from the Argentine side appearing quite large, with high rise buildings but a lot of green too. The river is nice and clean, with a cooling breeze along the shore. The international bridge is prominent in the distance, it's white cables descending gracefully from towers on the Paraguayan side. The river walk goes along behind the hill on which our hostel sits, and we walked up towards home. Stopping into some shops, we bought ingredients for dinner and a couple of lovely Patagonia beers. There was still no water at the hostel, and the oven was nearly useless, so we had to make a few changes to plans. Ended up with nice potato wedges and steak. Come morning...still no water. Now very much in need of showers, we decided to put an end to the Argentina chapter. The international bus to Paraguay is cheap and frequent, so we boarded and added another country to the list.



Argentina is a vast, vast country. Travelling by bus, we undertook several journeys near the 20 hour mark. Still we only got about half way down the country, and across the north. Given its size, it has a massively varied landscape; fjords, mountains, lakes, plains, desert, beaches - it can all be found here. We caught some of the mountains and lakes in beautiful Bariloche and surrounds. We saw some of the immigration history in Welsh Trevelin. In the arid region, we tried some fantastic wines and saw a very different type of countryside. We experienced urban Argentina in Mendoza and Cordoba, and of course in Buenos Aires (which I don't hate, despite my misfortune there). Argentina is a fantastic destination, though I fervently believe that the south is the place to be. If I get to come back some time, I hope to go down to Ushuia, right at the southern trip, and to see more of Patagonia and the lake country. For now, though, excitement and adventure await in little-visited Paraguay.

---