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Friday, 18 November 2011

Mendoza to Santiago through the Andes


 For a number of weeks before I arrived in Mendoza, I kept on hearing that the pass between Argentina and Chile near Mendoza through the Andes was closed because of snow. Luckily about 2 weeks before I arrived, the backpacker network seemed to indicate that the pass was open again although it may be closed for a day or two here and there. 


So I took a chance and booked a bus ticket. The pass was open! I managed to get a seat right at the front of the bus for the views through the Andes. It was stunning. My seat was before the front bus wheel. The pass had about 32 U shaped corners winding like a snake through the snow down a steep slope. Each time we turned, I basically went over the mountain edge and held my breath!




 
 The border was interesting too. We got led through it by our bus driver (who couldn’t speak English). After the International tunnel, the valley opened out to a warehouse structure in the middle of a snowy valley which was in the middle of nowhere. Our passports went through the appropriate checks and our baggage was scanned for fruit and veggies. The boarder into Chile is notoriously strict. So I declared a couple of items like tea and salt and spices. The guy checking my bags was rather excited to practice his broken English.

 The mountains were stark with snow and rock garnishing the steep slopes and every now and again a view stretching down a valley. There were still a number of ski slopes functioning which was good fun watching.
 
My favourite ski slope was after the boarder where a skier was coming slalom down a slope with a dog careening down in a cloud of snow after its owner. The slope went over the road supported by a tunnel and when the bus came out I spotted dog and owner on one of those tiny 2 man T bar ski-lifts heading back up the slope.

The 6 hour journey went really fast and was wonderful.


At the border - brrrr!

Welcome to Chile

The pass and S-bends

Ski slopes over tunnels

S-bends going down the valley - wow!
Views of the roads

Mendoza - Melbec wine, bicycles and horse riding


5 star bus ride
 The 5 star bus from Buenos Aires through to Mendoza was great. Again this was over a 10 hour trip. A flat bed seat combined with surprisingly decent food and offers of red wine and even top-ups. Yum. But probably the most memorable part of the bus ride was playing Bingo in Spanish on the bus! They ran a proper little bingo game. I couldn’t quite believe it. Hence to say that I finally learnt my Spanish numbers by bingo practice! I have to say I thought this was rather funny. Everyone getting so excited about bingo on a bus.










Having fun on the bus with Ece

I took a front seat on the bus for the view and space. Not that there was a view for long before it got dark. But opposite me in the front happened to be a lady I’d briefly met at the hostel. Ece (pronounced to my untrained ear as AJ) was from Turkey, living in London. She was so full of life and laughter. We got on immediately. She had also researched Mendoza a bit and found out about some of the wine farms in the area and how to visit them – local bus and then bicycle! She was much more prepared than I was, so I ended up joining her in her well organised plans. Although I was a bit apprehensive about the bicycle part, especially when mixed with wine.

Coco rent-a-bike
 We dropped our bags at our respective places of staying (hotel for Ece and backpackers for me) and met up to put Ece’s plan into action. We caught a local bus to the Maipú valley. I must admit that for a fancy wine area I did expect a little more. We ended up getting dropped off next to what I would call a shack. Walking along a wide tar road with bicycle lanes each side, the houses looked as if they could have been better kept. I’m sure that a number of families lived in each of those houses and relied on tourists to get by. It certainly was not peak season while we were there, being the middle of winter.

Hiring bikes
Just a few houses down from where we had been dropped was Coco rent a bike (which is very proudly in the Lonely Planet). This is a bike hire run by a local family with a really local feel to it. Finally, after inspecting the bikes to make sure that there were no punctures and that the bikes actually had reasonable breaks, we set off. We ended up cycling around 12- 15 km in total and visited about 4 different wine farms and an ultra sweet chocolate and liquor farm. We had a really good fun day. 





Some of the wine farms to visit
Mendoza area is obviously famous for its wines. But it seems that the valley we were in specialised in red wines, especially a type called “Melbec” with a bit of “Cab Sav” thrown in. The Cab Sav we tried was far too young and rather grim in my opinion. Call me a spoilt South African. But the Melbec was gorgeous! To my completely untrained pallet, this red wine has a very distinctive taste. I think it has a really rich taste of fruit. I really liked the long matured Melbec that had a bit of time in an oak barrel. There was one really complex Melbec that we tasted that had won a variety of awards. It was definitely best as a stand-alone wine as it had too many complex yummy flavours to really go with anything.

 



Riding along the tree covered avenue




Ece and I
So, a bit more detail about the actual ride… The wide road with bicycle lanes went around a couple of round-abouts (circles for those with no South African lingo) and gave me the perfect opportunity to quickly re-learn how to ride without any major catastrophes. The road then narrowed to a tiny tar road with trucks passing us and then deteriorated to a bit of gravel road and crossed a train line and ended up in a rather dodgy looking part of town(at this stage we thought we were completely lost on a straight road and we hadn’t touched any wine yet!). Ece’s Spanish helped to ensure that we hadn’t inadvertently turned off the straight road we were supposed to be following. 

A lovely lunch!
After a large detour due to road works, the road much to our relief, upgraded back to tar with a gorgeous tree canopy. Or you could imagine that it would be gorgeous in summer. But winter the surrounds were dry and bare. It might not have been quite the safest road ever (trucks and no bicycles lane) but there were a couple of people with bicycles braving the roads and all waving at each other.


Ece and I did the wine tasting in 2 of the 4 farms visited and also tried out the chocolate and liquors. Obviously they have a Dulce de Leche flavoured liquor! We made it safely back to the local bus and to Mendoza. I was grateful for the fact that neither of us went overboard with the wine or it could have been a really interesting ride back! My only complaint was that after dirt road and that many km cycling, I couldn’t really sit down properly for about 2 days!




Wine tasting
Back in the hostel, I discovered that a couple of other people that had done the bicycle wine tour ended up with various scratches, bruises and grazes from their exploits that they had no clue how they had got. Very mysterious! Rather grateful that I was not one of them.





One of the wine farms
Blossoms
Olives
 

Parking bicycles
Ece and I spent the evening exploring Mendoza and finding something to eat. Thanks Ece – really enjoyed touring with you!

Ece left the next day and I spent some time relaxing in the first proper sunny weather I had seen in about a month! Oh how I had missed it. It must have been around 24 degrees with all the locals strolling around in long sleeves and jackets (it being their winter). I think I got more stares for wondering around in a spaghetti-strap top than for being blond!
 Through the hostel’s recommendation, I found one of the best restaurants in town, Anna’s Bistro. This was stunning and surprisingly vaguely in my budget. The setting was a relaxed garden setting with sun streaming on you if you so wished. And the waiters and waitresses understood a bit of my English / sign-language. So I really enjoyed a couple of lazy afternoons over a glass of Melbec, a good book and yummy food. I ended up introducing a couple of people to the culinary adventure too.
Pudding and coffee

Yummy Anna's Bistro















Me and my horse
I couldn’t be in Mendoza without trying the horse riding! Though the hostel advice I went with a company that was a little out of town “in the Andes”. It wasn’t quite in the Andes. Reality put it more in the low rolling rocky, dusty foot-hills with views of the Andes at certain points along the trail. I had imagined these famous mountains being similar to the Alps in Europe and was quite surprised to see just how different they are. 












They are huge and snow-capped and the surrounds are dry and dusty. Distances are huge as well. The mountains hardly have any vegetation on them, a very different sight to the bright green of Europe. The Andes is the longest mountain range in the world and I would encounter it a couple of times again. I think that they are harsher than Europe and life is certainly less cushy around them than in Europe. I think that they have a far more “wild” quality to them. Lonely, haunting and beautiful.

Riding with the Andes as a backdrop

My guide - Argentinian cowboy
I am not a horse rider by any means and I was rather perturbed to learn that the man taking us riding could speak no English! He looked like a proper Argentinian cowboy with spurs on his riding boots, a lasso on his saddle and the cowboy hat to go with. Anyways, with two French girls there in the morning session I decided to try it anyways. It was really great fun although I was a little disappointed that the Andes weren’t closer and that the guide didn’t speak my language. I was told that it would be bi-lingual, but like so much in South America this is not really the case! You just need to shrug and enjoy it anyway.









Lunch of steak, salad, bread and Melbec
Lunch was an interesting event. Turned out that I was the only person that had paid for lunch with the horse riding place. So, in a barn like structure I was alone and placed in front of a large wood fire while my steak cooked quietly on the side. The fire was rather welcome cos it was cold being winter! There was salad and white bread and Melbec on top of the steak. I wasn’t too sure how this worked, but the cowboy came in and poured me wine and then pulled out his knife from the holster I had not noticed on his belt and cut a strip off the steak and placed it on a board near me. Every now and again during the meal he would sneak in and see my progress and fill up the wine and cut another strip off the streak that was on a warmer by the fire. 

Riding back to the stables
 The French girls had gone off to find an open restaurant, failed and came to hang around my barn. I felt rather awkward eating in front of them when they couldn’t find food! So I offered some of my huge meal. They had a fair amount of the bread which I hadn’t touched. The people feeding me must have thought that I was hugely greedy when most of the food secretly disappeared! Oh well, so much for good impressions. But I seriously couldn’t finish what they had served me.











The tiny person riding a huge horse
The afternoon session, the French girls had moved on to do something else in the area and I went out horse riding again. It was only me and my silent guide. We went down the dirt roads of the town and past a house when he called to a little boy running through the backyard. About 5 minutes later I looked behind me to find this little boy of probably between 4-5 years old trotting to catch up with us on a full sized horse! He was so cute. Through sign language and common sense I found out that the little boy was my guide’s son. I can so see this horse riding thing being something passed down from father to son!

Riding along a trail

This tiny person on a horse as massive as mine had far more horse skills than I had. The biggest problem the boy had was trying to pull the horse up from trying to eat or drink on the path. We would cross a stream and stop while the boy pulled for all his might on the reins to try make his huge steed lift his head and actually go forward.
















Riding past the village
Our horses splashing along a stream for a km, high reeds either side of the path, the tiny boy and his huge horse in front of me and trotting with the Andes in the distance. A quiet sunny winter dry day. Idyllic. Definitely the highlight for me was the afternoon ride! All the time with a view of the Andes in the distance.

 From my experience of my ability to sit down, I can say bicycles are officially worse than horses!




Following a stream


View on way back to Mendoza
 Mendoza is a great place to stop if you’re back-packing. You can easily do it in less time that I spent there. But I was grateful for the break. I ended up extending my time there to enjoy the weather and also cos I then met a fellow South African traveller, Dina. Dina was the first South African traveller I’d met in months and it was great fun after so long to have someone who understood a few of the SA nuances.





Mendoza main square at night
The hostel (which had inviting hammocks in the garden) ended up doing a barbeque on my final night there with free Melbec to go with. Food and wine were really good, especially a home-made humus dip thing. I also finally got brave enough to try a little black pudding sausage. Not the English version, but the slightly squishier Argentinean version. It was surprisingly tasty, but I couldn’t really get it out of my head what it was that I was eating! So a taste was plenty! Grimbles! If you don’t know – Google it!

Finally the next day I left for my long awaited trip to Santiago through the Andes.




candy store

Local park

Another local park

Dina and I

Barbeque - one of four tables

Stables

Saturday, 22 October 2011

Buenos Aires - Evita, steak, fast food, football and lots of dogs


Park with flag
 Buenos Aires was a long bus ride away but Argentina has completely different types of busses to Brazil. You have 3 classes of bus travel. Lowest, the seat leans back a bit, second class the seat leans back about 145 degrees and first class the seat goes completely flat. They serve food and wine and the bus is generally more comfortable. The seat prices are not that different from each other, so I chose first class for a spoil. Also, for an about 12 hour bus ride it was worth it to be able to sleep and not be surrounded by characters!
 


A wall of rememberance
I arrived in Buenos Aires (BA) really excited to re-meet up with a good friend from varsity, Benita. She was to meet me at the bus station, but in case, we had a back-up plan in the event that we couldn’t find each other. The BA bus station is huge. I mean it’s over 180 bus stops. So the fact that Benita and I actually found each other in about 2 minutes of searching is another of those “Wow I’m being looked after” moments. 

Benita showed me around Buenos Aires a fair amount and while she was working I explored on my own too. BA is not my favourite city in the world. It’s a little on the dirty side and I was there during winter so there wasn’t much green around and not that much sun. But the people I met there were really interesting, they completely made up for the city smelling like dog-doo.  I ended up spending 3 weeks here, 2 of which were spent taking a few English lessons. I was helping out a friend who had to take some time off teaching to go home for a few weeks. Benita and I helped out and shared the load of her classes. I was and still am incredibly grateful for this opportunity.


The home of Tango
My clients were older business people. Most of them had business English waxed but not the social what do you talk about at a cocktail party / conference or the complex idioms of English. I loved the lower level students asking “Teacher, I have a doubt.” (Not a question) and the higher level students giving me advice on the places that I have to see in BA. The conversations that you would have in a lesson were much more personal than in any normal business meeting. I mean you would ask about their families and discuss much of life in general. 



 
 


















It was strange for me to walk into a large posh company wearing jeans (I don’t have any smart clothes with me) and telling them I’m “profesor de Inglés” and then take an English lesson for a top manager in the company. I mean I’ve come from a background of talking finance and tax in a business suit with high-heels! This was slightly different to say the least!


On the wooden train
I still have a number of favourite parts to BA. I loved the wooden underground metro train (“Subte”) that runs on line A. The interior is like walking into a 1950’s movie set. The benches are wooden, the lights have proper lampshades and the poles have leaf-mouldings where they join the ceiling. There were also hand-hold rings dangling from the ceiling which emphasised the movement of the train. There are large push -down windows on each train that give the feeling of the train being very open and windy as it hurtles through underground lit tunnels. You have to physically pull the wooden doors open when you get into a station. The train is generally still moving when the rushed passengers open the doors and you jump off as soon as you think that you won’t break an ankle by dis-embarking.

La Boca
The wooden doors also take a little time while the train moves away before they slam shut with that wood meets wood sound. That part at least is mechanised or a nearby passenger assists in the closing before the train speeds up too much. The train during arbitrary times can get absolutely crammed full of people – I have never, never been so close to people in my life as on that train. I encountered the busiest time at about 10am for some reason. The friends I made in BA and I had tons of fun laughing over how the person crunched against you in the train is very rarely a good-looking man. It’s normally someone smelling like fish and sweat. When the train is crowded, you don’t need to hold onto anything when the train moves around corners as the general mass of humanity ensures that you are upright. I mean you can’t really even sway with the movement of the train, you stand pretty much straight. 

The tourist street in a "don't go there" neighbourhood
It was unusual for me, as unlike many other places in the world, I’m between average and tall in BA. This means that I have less armpits to be under in the BA underground as compared to say London. But London has nothing on the squish in these trains. I arrived the once and I physically could not squeeze myself on. But I had a good giggle as the person behind me took a dive with his elbows and managed by some miracle to make people breath in enough to make room for himself. I think everyone on the train breathes in as the doors close – else they wouldn’t. 


Enterance to La Boca
Trouble really is that you have to know which side of the train your platform is – otherwise there is not enough time to worm yourself through the crowd to be able to pop out at your desired stop. It was good fun though – for the couple of times I did the squeeze. I can imagine that it wouldn’t be if this is what you faced every day. Rather glad I was there in winter as it must be 10 times worse in summer heat!

But the best part about the wooden underground trains was the smell of them. The smell of wood under friction. A warm wood smell – not burning, just thick wooden smell that you could smell all the way from the stairs leading into the subway. It’s such a distinctive smell!  And as the train approaches, the wind in the tunnel brings the smell of the wood with it. Lovely and a reminder of the oldness of the train. 

Mad about football!
The people in BA dress beautifully – really smart, especially the men (or maybe that’s just cos I’m a woman that I think that). It’s a common known phrase that a man looks good in uniform. Well, long winter coats over suits also work well. It’s really elegant, especially if you like the tall, dark and handsome. That is to say until you are walking down the street behind someone appreciating his coat and are then suddenly engulfed in second hand smoke that he puffs out from some previously unnoticed cigarette. I found that all the good looking men in BA smoke. It’s a real pity. Alternative to the smoke is that they suddenly turn their head and spit onto the pavement. As my friend said “it’s disgusting, you can see the green flying…” So it seems that appearance is not everything!

















Spanish was a challenge to me I have to admit. I quickly tried to pick up “emergency Spanish”. Useful phrases like “how much is it?”, “I don’t speak Spanish. I am South African”, “1,25” (the price of a bus ticket), “do you speak English?” and “where is the bathroom?”. The trouble with this is that while you may know how to ask the question, interpreting the answer is a completely different problem. 

The houses in La Boca
Often you’ll hear a rattle of Spanish and then be standing there blinking stupidly. At first I didn’t really know what to do if the answer to “do you speak English?” was no. Now I’m not so scared as I have mastered the art of speaking slowly, smiling lots and sign language. Most people were really helpful once they understood that I was South African. (Although many were confused at my blond-ness coming from Africa). The trouble is that you don’t really want to mime “where is the bathroom?” (I was caught out once in Brazil at 2am at a bus stop, never again… although both the lady I was asking and I ended up giggling at my antics). So, certain phrases are essential.

San Telmo antique shops
Benita living in BA was amazing as I got to see a completely different side of the city to normal tourists. Busses are the way to travel in BA and are pretty safe too. The system is excellent and goes everywhere. I took busses at 1am sometimes and they were really full. That’s about when the locals start to go out partying. Away from tourist central, prices drop and normal life goes on. Bus stops lose their numbers and sometimes become just a tree on the corner that you have to stand by. You just need to know which tree at which corner for which bus! So, I was left a number of times by the local tree near Benita’s place standing at 11pm onward for 20 – 30 minutes waiting for my bus number to pass. When you see it you flag it down and hope that it stops. I believe that they are always supposed to stop, but I had at least 3 times at night where the bus driver was obviously behind schedule as they drove by me and I had to wait for the next one. 



Small market with "mate" mugs for sale - the national drink of Argentina. Like a herbal tea.  















Evita has really left an impression here.
There is no exact time that the bus will be at a stop, you just wait until the right one appears. There are a ton of one-ways in BA and the busses there don’t generally take the same route going somewhere as coming back. There is also no signage as to which stop is next and the bus driver doesn’t stop until the relevant button is pressed. This means that you have to surreptitiously keep looking at a map to follow the bus route to find out when you have to get off. You need to do this without looking like a stupid tourist (oh if the blond hair was not a giveaway!) Luckily there is a tiny map book that you can get at the local news stand that gives you details of the over 350 different busses that they have in BA and an idea of the various routes. There is also an excellent website where you can plot your route and it will tell you which transport options you have and how long each is likely to take you. 




Ricoletta the famous cemetery - where Eva (Evita) Peron is buried.
I had to catch the 180 bus to Benita’s but not any 180 as there were two different types. I had to catch the 180 bus that had a “X55” sign on the dashboard. It was an hour bus ride to my destination. It took me through various interesting streets. One area was a 3 block area that sold manikin dummies for shop windows. All these bare manikin dummies staring out of shop windows – including fat men and women! It reminded me of a Dr Who episode…


The graves of Ricoletta - a bit of a maze
Buenos Aires has a slightly different road structure to most cities I’ve been to. Many cities have a grid road system to a certain degree, but often the plot is lost and then roads wind around mountains or follow rivers. BA is different in that way in that it is a complete grid. You can travel down a single road for over half an hour. So to go anywhere in BA, you need to not only know the street but the number that you are going to. Walking from 1 to over 6000 takes a fair while.
By Eva Peron's grave

Probably the most famous road in BA is “Avenida  9 de Julio”. This road is hugely wide! I mean almost 20 lanes wide! It’s interesting to cross it by foot... You just need to take it in small chunks and follow the traffic signs. First you cross (approximately) 3 lanes, then 7, then 7 and then another 3 lanes. This road has the Obelisk in the middle of it that is massive and was the marker for me of which direction I was walking. I have to admit that Wikipedia has a cooler photograph of the place as taking a picture is rather difficult with all the traffic coming toward you. Also I was not too sure which of the buildings you could get to the top of to take a bird’s eye view.

I still had my cold/ flu that I had picked up in Brazil. So finally in BA, after a course of antibiotics and 10 days of cortisone, I decided a doctor visit may be necessary to deal with the temperature that I had. So I asked my hostel for where I could find an English speaking doctor. They told me “Hospital Britannica”. I was thinking Britain, English, brilliant. Then the question was how to get there. After about an hour of discussion of which bus wouldn’t take me through probably one of the highest risk suburbs of BA, la Boca, I finally found a bus that should be safe. 

Ricoletta





Avenida 9 de Julio and the Obelisk











Making my way to the bus stop, I was trying to interpret the notices as to which side of the major 6 lane road I should catch the bus when I encountered another “wow, I’m being looked after moment”.

You need to understand that no-one in BA ever comes up to you and starts to speak English. I was asked for directions more times than I could count in Spanish. But never English. (Why they would ask the blond person who obviously doesn’t belong in BA is beyond me). So it was quite a surprise to me when a man at the bus station asked me where I needed to go in English! He ended up going the same direction as me, told me where I should get off, how to get back and gave me a whole history of the city along the bus route. I then ended up at the hospital to find that this was a local hospital and English was not really understood anywhere! Being sick in a foreign country is not fun - ever. Being sick where you can’t communicate – that’s 10 times worse! I ended up finding a helpful staff member who acted as my interpreter for a while and led me through all the administration and told everyone what I needed.

Wildlife
A ferris wheel in a shopping centre!
When I was finally called (in Spanish), I met a nurse who was to take my history. (She cringed every time I coughed – not too sure why she became a nurse then). She could speak a little English but didn’t really understand past, present and future tense. My history became completely mangled, but at least she knew words like pneumonia. I thought then, maybe, the doctor would speak better English. But no – he spoke nada! Nothing! So I ended up going through diagnosis and X-rays by sign language and the nurse’s limited English. The X-ray specialist was so petrified of my non-Spanish-ness that he would not let the nurse go back to her duties, she had to stay with me! Lol.

I was told I didn’t have pneumonia and through some sign language and a smattering of English learnt that I had to take one tablet daily, starting that night. The people at the hospital were great and had so much patience with me and helped me through the language barrier even though they struggled. It was all a little scary really. But I ended up getting the medicine I needed and I eventually recovered from this nasty bug 5 weeks after having got it.  

Everything takes longer when you can’t speak the language. Going to see a movie, which we take for granted, became quite an adventure. First you need to find a movie theatre. Then you need to check if they are showing the relevant movie in English not translated into Spanish. Then you need to find out how to get there using public transport. Then you need to see if the movie times allow you to use the public transport (underground trains closed at 10pm). To get all these factors in one place took me 3 days to figure out and about 5 movie houses! But eventually I watched Harry Potter in 3D and finally ended the series. Once I found out how to work the movies I ended up going weekly as something of a treat. 

One of the nice parks
 I was rather disappointed with most of the parks in BA. I know it was winter, but I battled to find greenery. A number of them were also rather on the dirty side.

I visited a couple of different areas in BA. Most of the apparently “posh” areas in BA didn’t look all that posh. 








The famous bridge
The docks had plenty of high-rise buildings around and yachts and expensive restaurants, but facing brown water and old cranes I wouldn’t want to live there. Another area where one of my clients lived was also not that good looking. When I showed Benita toward a coffee shop in this area she asked me “you walked alone here?” I had been told it was safe and one of the best areas in town. So I assumed that looks were not everything. Oh well. The coffee was good.   





On the bridge
I also visited la Boca. This is the dangerous neighbourhood and one or two streets are touristy and full of police. Beyond that they say that a tourist should not wonder around. This is a very interesting area as the buildings were originally constructed and painted with the left-overs of the ship yard. It is also the area in the city where the Tango was born. You are treated to lots of street tango when you are there. Any pictures require tips though.





 
Benita and I
On my birthday Benita and I went down to Tigre. This is by the confluence of a river. From where I was staying, it took about 1 hour bus, 30 minutes bus, and 1 hour train to get to. It was worth it though as this area (I think just outside BA) is stunning. It ended up being a fairly clear sunny day and after our picnic on the benches with green grass around us, we went on a boat ride of the area which was lovely. Benita even tried her limited Spanish out to try interpret the tour into English. I really enjoyed the day and it was just nice to chat to a friend who I have known and who has known me for a while.

Benita also introduced me to a restaurant near where she used to live which is well known by the locals. There always seems to be a queue of Argentines out the door during meal times. It was amazing as this tiny place is charming inside and no tourists venture there at all. I think we were the only English speaking people that had ever gone there. It looks like a little bistro from the outside. The inside is decorated with all sorts of old stuff, from old tins to wooden shelves with old utensils on them. The kitchen is open to view and everything is prepared fresh. Interpreting the menu was a bit of a challenge, but we ended up with some stunning stuff. The best calzone that I have ever had was here. Also stunning was a pile of steak, bacon and cheese in layers. I loved this tiny place. It took an hour bus to get to Benita, then another about 30 min bus and then another 6 blocks walking to get there. It was completely worth the journey – all 3 times we went. I think this tiny place was the best part of BA for me. The prices weren’t that bad either as it is completely not touristy.



At the wonderful restuarant

The posh area
Food wise, Argentina is rightly known for its steak. Cooked properly over a grill there is nothing better.  In my last week I found a stunning little place that cooked sirloin steak rolls for about the equivalent of R40. Really yum. It’s a bit strange though coming from South Africa. If you order steak at a restaurant, it’s generally steak on a plate. No garnish, no little side salad, no chips. Just steak on a plate. 











A pyramid of Dulce de Leche
The other obsession that Argentina has is with Dulce de Leche. This is basically like Caramel Treat – although I’m sure that the Argentines would disagree and say that Caramel Treat is nothing compared to Dulce de Leche! How dare I cheapen their delicacy! This is everywhere. You can get chocolate bars filled with it, Ice cream flavoured with it, biscuits that have it. It is even served as a spread that you can put on your bread for breakfast! Breakfast is ultra-sweet there. Or in my hostel it was – sweetened drinking yoghurt, sugar coated corn flakes, jam with white bread or dulce de leche with white bread and the saving grace, some fruit. After 3 weeks of this, I was quite sick of it at the end.

My personal favourite form of dulce de leche was Havanna products. There were two in particular. One was two soft chocolate biscuits with dulce de leche between and then covered in chocolate. Second was a soft chocolate biscuit with a pyramid of dulce de leche on top all coated with chocolate. Decadence! I’m not too sure how I lost weight in South America with all this yumminess around me. But somehow – I think it was all the walking and cold evenings.

Tess's amazing cooking! Yum!
 I met some characters in my hostel over these 3 weeks. I just want to mention a few. There was a lady from Columbia in my dorm room who could speak no English. Nothing. Yet every day she would try to start a conversation with me (even though I understood no Spanish). By sign language she would ask me how I was feeling every day. She was really amazing. My not speaking her language didn’t deter her at all from trying to communicate. If we could have more people in the world like that I think it would be a happier place.









More of Tess's amazing cooking - chocolate mouse from scatch.

Some of the charactors in my dorm. The columbian lady is on the left.

I also met a lady who had a number of photos of her dog beside her bed. She was from the UK and going to study in BA. She had a really typical UK sense of humour. Slightly synical and really funny. She kept me giggling and appreciating the English that she spoke when I found it in so few places.

 We also for about 2 weeks had a pair of older Brazilian ladies in the dorm. They were at a guess in their late 50’s and sleeping on the top bed of the bunk beds. Why would you go into a 6 bed dorm at 50? They were rather unfriendly and no-one in the dorm really liked them much as they would be noisy slamming cupboards getting ready for bed, then snore all night, then start talking to each other at 6:45am on a Saturday morning! 

While this did not make them any friends, it did mean that the rest of us clubbed together to complain and actually got to know each other which was great. You have to understand – the snoring was loud. My ear-plugs didn’t really work all that well. So, this is how I met an Argentine lady who had won a scholarship to study a doctorate in maths! Not bad. Her English was fair and I had fun chatting to her. Another of my dorm mates was a Brazilian lady who was working for a government department. She was having to take language lessons for the up-coming world cup. So English and French basically every night until about 10pm. Respect! 

The best part of BA for me was spending so much time with Benita, drinking yummy coffee, having a good chat and going for dinner at that amazing tiny restuarant. Getting to know Tess & Alle, Benita's friendly next door neighbours and their crazy cat was also a highlight. Many thanks to Tess for the amazing dinner party that she hosted. It was really good food - all amazingly cooked from scratch. Many many thanks Bean, my amazing beautiful friend, for making my stay!  

Tigre







A special birthday