After a final weekend in Potosì, Thai and I chose to follow through with our plan to leave Bolivia early. And according to recent news it sounds like we made a smart decision. In the East, protests and strikes escalated as civilians began to forcefully take over government buildings - including at least one airport - and sabotage gas pipelines to Brazil in rebellion against the president's socialist policies. Apparently, the concept of 'redistribution of wealth' does not sit lightly with Bolivia's upper-crust opposition. The president sent in military troops to try and get a handle on the situation - a move which resulted in open street violence that left many dead. He also responded by sending the US ambassador packing, saying that the embassy was actively trying to stir up his opponents... So naturally Hugo Chavez, the passionate and fanatically pro-LatAm president of Venezuela, ejects his US ambassador as well 'in solidarity with the people of Bolivia.' In the meantime, Bolivia's border with Argentina has been closed during various periods and travel within the country has been seriously impeeded by strikes in many regions.
Thankfully we were already in Buenos Aires by the time the ax began to pick up speed. After crossing into Argentina, Thai and I made our way to Salta, the quiet city set just south of the color-streaked northern desert. Proportionately, Salta does not seem so distant from the border. In reality, it is over nine hours by bus. During the ride I had plenty of time to reflect on the immensity of the country. For most of this trip - especially in Central America - we have become accustomed to the conveniently small country, where no two points of interest are ever that far from one another. Even Peru and Bolivia, while larger than the rest, are miniscule in comparison. Argentina, as it turns out, is the eighth largest country in the world closely on the heels of India in seventh.
As the landscape changed slowly from barren rock to rolling pasture, I recalled a conversation that I had had in passing with a couple in Bolivia. They were making a similar trip to ours, but in reverse starting with Argentina. They spent a month in their first country, a week of which was spent in busses alone. Not the better part of seven days, no; 168 hours... Hell, I can easily believe it. To date, Thai and I have taken three busses and we've already amassed more than 45 hours 'on the inside.' And we have plenty more to go.
We spent a few days in Salta soaking in the relaxed pace of the place. We also began to bring the taste buds back to life after the Bolivian hibernation (there are many reasons to go, just don't travel there for the cuisine). We started slowly with fresh produce from the markets and salami sandwiches from the myriad delis about town. Eventually we graduated to chicken and rice. We would have to wait for the capitol for our first encounters with the legendary beef, but it was plenty for the time being.
After a quick assessment of our 'end of the trip' financial situ, we decided the best course of action would be to make a break for Buenos Aires where we had friends awaiting us with spare beds. From there, we could plot our strategy further without throwing away cash in the meantime. So we caught the 22-hour bus to the capitol, wincing at the price of the tickets, but marveling at the change in quality from Bolivia to Argentina. If we have to spend a week inside these things, at least it will be in relative comfort. We went with the cheapest company we could find and they still served us wine with our hot dinners in (near fully) reclined seats! This isn't Greyhound.
Once in Buenos Aires, we figured out how to maneuver across town in the subway and found Sean and Katrine, two of Thai's friends from high school that she hadn't seen in over six years. After graduation the two of them moved to Norway (Katrine was a Norwegian exchange student at Dallas HS) and got married. They are currently in BA for a semester abroad which, by their admition, is more of an obstacle to their school work than anything, but worth the experience (I hope). They rented an apartment in Recoleta - one of the ritzier neighborhoods situated to the north of the city center. They were nice enough to take us in for close to a full week while we figured out how to tackle this monster of a country. During that time, we got (re)acquainted, discovered a mutual love for cooking and cards, discussed the lay of the capitol, and met many of their close friends in the area. Even more importantly, Thai and I discovered a semblance of home in a far flung place - a very welcome comfort after an extended period of wandering in unknown territory.
Over the course of many days, we explored the city. We took in the Recoleta Cemetary, a marble sea of monuments to Argentina's wealthy and famous - most notably Eva Peron. The cemetary is actually considered the pinnacle of Argentinian architecture. This may seem a bit morbid, but it makes more sense once you step foot inside the gates and experience the immensity of the place. Some of the mosoleums would have made quite sizeable houses in many of the countries we have visited.
Thai also took full advantage of her access to a fully-stocked kitchen. With her and Sean climbing over one another to get to the stove we all ate our fill of home-cooked bliss. In the realm of cuisine, it can be said that Argentinos don't enjoy a great range of flavors; they don't much care for spice, and their meat is often served plain. The local diet could probably be 90% summed up by pizza, red meat (steak, sausage, or salami), and pasta alone. But, my god, what they lack in breadth they make up for in quility and afordability. Steak and red wine in the supermarket are obscenely cheap - for perhaps $2.30 US, you could walk out with a sizeable slab of cow and a halfway decent cabernet. We've made plenty of steak on our own with great success, but we have yet to go out to a nice dinner to see what they can do. We have plans for that when we return to the city, though - I hear they can work miracles with the stuff.
One weekend we wandered about the nearby park to take in the local artisan markets and live music. Laying in the grass surrounded by the 20-something inhabitants of the burrow sipping their yerba mate from hollowed-out gourds, we gorged on pan relleno and drank in the scenery. For all the talk our guidebook devotes to labeling Argentinos as brooding, ungracious, and deeply marred by a militant past, we have had nothing but peaceful and warm impressions of the people we have met - great conversations with strangers on the Metro, old ladies stopping to tell Thai how beautiful she is... This is, perhaps, with the exception of the pickpocket on the subway who got away with my wallet, but I guess certain lessons are inevitable and necessary at one time or another.
During its glory days, Argentina was actually one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Unfortunately, a series of brutal military regimes that followed in the turbulent wake of the Perons squandered much of the nation's money and resources trying to maintain their authority. Today, the country continues to recover from near bankruptcy as recently as 2000, and steady economic growth has led to a greater sense of national pride and security. However, the mistakes of the recent past are still fresh in the minds of many and protests are a frequent sight in the streets of downtown Buenos Aires. The government has also recently begun to put those responsible for the genocide of the past 50 years on trial which will be a long but all too necessary process for its people. Their wounds are fresh, but they are recovering.
Buenos Aires is constantly described as a very 'European' city. I couldn't tell you whether this is true or not, given that I've never been, but it has definately proven itself to be distinct among the places we have visited. While Bolivia boasts the highest indigenous population in Latin America (at 60%), Argentina is quite the opposite. The descendants of the original inhabitants make up only 2% of the nation; the vast majority of the remainder are either mestizo or immigrants from Spain, Italy, and other European countries. Today, Argentina (especially the capitol) is a place of small cafes and thick accents, of foreign food and local pride. It is a place where people assume we are locals that speak Spanish because Porteños (those who live in BA) themselves are such a diverse group.
Sean and Katrine were more than gracious and welcoming with their home, but in the end they had a make way for the next guests - Sean's father and younger brother. While looking for a place to stay, Thai and I decided to visit a website which we had heard a lot about - CouchSurfing.com. The site serves to connect an international group of like-minded travelers devoted to cultural exchange (and cheap accomodations). We set up accounts and began to look over the members in Buenos Aires. It took a bit of hunting before we found someone with a free room (we seem to be following high tourist season on this continent), but we finally made contact with Diego who offered to take us out to a bar to get to know one another. He also brought along Manuel from Portugal - another CouchSurfing member who was staying with him at the time. Together we went to a small concert of really great local bands. It was definitely more of a local hangout; Thai and I were the only tourists in the entire place. But on such rare occasions you feel a bit priviledged to have found your way there. We were there until five in the morning before Thai was too tired to continue, but Manuel told me they stuck around until the end of the show... at 11AM.
In the end, Diego became our first CS experience, quickly followed by Juan - another member of the site who was able to house us for three more nights. He also happened to live on the 16th floor of his apartment building with a great view of the downtown area. He showed us several really great places to eat on a budget and even took us an hour north of the city on our last day together to explore the small riverside town of San Isidro. It might take some work, but so far we have had an excellent time with the Couch Surfing gig - new friends, great advice on the area, excellent views of the city, and free places to stay! Unfortunately we have had no luck finding anyone with the room and/or the desire to host us in the other areas of the country that we plan to visit so it looks like we're back to hostels for a bit. We will definitely have places to stay when we get back to BA, however, and we are both set on opening up our couches to guests when we return home.
Yesterday, following Katrine's birthday party and the arrival of Sean's dad and brother, we finally said our temporary goodbyes and got on a bus to Mendoza. As I write this, we are resting in a hostel in the heart of wine country. To be sure, the cost of accomodation in Argentina is more expensive than it was in Bolivia, but for $10 each we have a room to ourselves, a pool out on the patio (the smallest pool I've ever seen, but still), free breakfast, and all the complimentary wine we can drink. Rough. We should be here for about three days or so before moving south. Thai and I really want to rent mopeds and scuttle about the vineyards for some tastings. Then its off for Glacier National Park in Patagonia, Valdez Peninsula for whales and walruses, and up north again for Oktoberfest in the central hills of Cordoba (there is apparently a small German town that is famous for its celebration). We would like to get down to Ushuaia - the southernmost city on the planet - while we are in Patagonia, but we have heard mixed accounts of whether its reachable by bus. We shall see... Either way, after Oktoberfest we would head north to see Iguazu Falls and then return to the capitol for a few weeks before flying out.
Good luck to you all, wherever this finds you. And don't worry about us; we'll tipping a glass to each of you come tomorrow!
Thankfully we were already in Buenos Aires by the time the ax began to pick up speed. After crossing into Argentina, Thai and I made our way to Salta, the quiet city set just south of the color-streaked northern desert. Proportionately, Salta does not seem so distant from the border. In reality, it is over nine hours by bus. During the ride I had plenty of time to reflect on the immensity of the country. For most of this trip - especially in Central America - we have become accustomed to the conveniently small country, where no two points of interest are ever that far from one another. Even Peru and Bolivia, while larger than the rest, are miniscule in comparison. Argentina, as it turns out, is the eighth largest country in the world closely on the heels of India in seventh.
As the landscape changed slowly from barren rock to rolling pasture, I recalled a conversation that I had had in passing with a couple in Bolivia. They were making a similar trip to ours, but in reverse starting with Argentina. They spent a month in their first country, a week of which was spent in busses alone. Not the better part of seven days, no; 168 hours... Hell, I can easily believe it. To date, Thai and I have taken three busses and we've already amassed more than 45 hours 'on the inside.' And we have plenty more to go.
We spent a few days in Salta soaking in the relaxed pace of the place. We also began to bring the taste buds back to life after the Bolivian hibernation (there are many reasons to go, just don't travel there for the cuisine). We started slowly with fresh produce from the markets and salami sandwiches from the myriad delis about town. Eventually we graduated to chicken and rice. We would have to wait for the capitol for our first encounters with the legendary beef, but it was plenty for the time being.
After a quick assessment of our 'end of the trip' financial situ, we decided the best course of action would be to make a break for Buenos Aires where we had friends awaiting us with spare beds. From there, we could plot our strategy further without throwing away cash in the meantime. So we caught the 22-hour bus to the capitol, wincing at the price of the tickets, but marveling at the change in quality from Bolivia to Argentina. If we have to spend a week inside these things, at least it will be in relative comfort. We went with the cheapest company we could find and they still served us wine with our hot dinners in (near fully) reclined seats! This isn't Greyhound.
Once in Buenos Aires, we figured out how to maneuver across town in the subway and found Sean and Katrine, two of Thai's friends from high school that she hadn't seen in over six years. After graduation the two of them moved to Norway (Katrine was a Norwegian exchange student at Dallas HS) and got married. They are currently in BA for a semester abroad which, by their admition, is more of an obstacle to their school work than anything, but worth the experience (I hope). They rented an apartment in Recoleta - one of the ritzier neighborhoods situated to the north of the city center. They were nice enough to take us in for close to a full week while we figured out how to tackle this monster of a country. During that time, we got (re)acquainted, discovered a mutual love for cooking and cards, discussed the lay of the capitol, and met many of their close friends in the area. Even more importantly, Thai and I discovered a semblance of home in a far flung place - a very welcome comfort after an extended period of wandering in unknown territory.
Over the course of many days, we explored the city. We took in the Recoleta Cemetary, a marble sea of monuments to Argentina's wealthy and famous - most notably Eva Peron. The cemetary is actually considered the pinnacle of Argentinian architecture. This may seem a bit morbid, but it makes more sense once you step foot inside the gates and experience the immensity of the place. Some of the mosoleums would have made quite sizeable houses in many of the countries we have visited.
Thai also took full advantage of her access to a fully-stocked kitchen. With her and Sean climbing over one another to get to the stove we all ate our fill of home-cooked bliss. In the realm of cuisine, it can be said that Argentinos don't enjoy a great range of flavors; they don't much care for spice, and their meat is often served plain. The local diet could probably be 90% summed up by pizza, red meat (steak, sausage, or salami), and pasta alone. But, my god, what they lack in breadth they make up for in quility and afordability. Steak and red wine in the supermarket are obscenely cheap - for perhaps $2.30 US, you could walk out with a sizeable slab of cow and a halfway decent cabernet. We've made plenty of steak on our own with great success, but we have yet to go out to a nice dinner to see what they can do. We have plans for that when we return to the city, though - I hear they can work miracles with the stuff.
One weekend we wandered about the nearby park to take in the local artisan markets and live music. Laying in the grass surrounded by the 20-something inhabitants of the burrow sipping their yerba mate from hollowed-out gourds, we gorged on pan relleno and drank in the scenery. For all the talk our guidebook devotes to labeling Argentinos as brooding, ungracious, and deeply marred by a militant past, we have had nothing but peaceful and warm impressions of the people we have met - great conversations with strangers on the Metro, old ladies stopping to tell Thai how beautiful she is... This is, perhaps, with the exception of the pickpocket on the subway who got away with my wallet, but I guess certain lessons are inevitable and necessary at one time or another.
During its glory days, Argentina was actually one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Unfortunately, a series of brutal military regimes that followed in the turbulent wake of the Perons squandered much of the nation's money and resources trying to maintain their authority. Today, the country continues to recover from near bankruptcy as recently as 2000, and steady economic growth has led to a greater sense of national pride and security. However, the mistakes of the recent past are still fresh in the minds of many and protests are a frequent sight in the streets of downtown Buenos Aires. The government has also recently begun to put those responsible for the genocide of the past 50 years on trial which will be a long but all too necessary process for its people. Their wounds are fresh, but they are recovering.
Buenos Aires is constantly described as a very 'European' city. I couldn't tell you whether this is true or not, given that I've never been, but it has definately proven itself to be distinct among the places we have visited. While Bolivia boasts the highest indigenous population in Latin America (at 60%), Argentina is quite the opposite. The descendants of the original inhabitants make up only 2% of the nation; the vast majority of the remainder are either mestizo or immigrants from Spain, Italy, and other European countries. Today, Argentina (especially the capitol) is a place of small cafes and thick accents, of foreign food and local pride. It is a place where people assume we are locals that speak Spanish because Porteños (those who live in BA) themselves are such a diverse group.
Sean and Katrine were more than gracious and welcoming with their home, but in the end they had a make way for the next guests - Sean's father and younger brother. While looking for a place to stay, Thai and I decided to visit a website which we had heard a lot about - CouchSurfing.com. The site serves to connect an international group of like-minded travelers devoted to cultural exchange (and cheap accomodations). We set up accounts and began to look over the members in Buenos Aires. It took a bit of hunting before we found someone with a free room (we seem to be following high tourist season on this continent), but we finally made contact with Diego who offered to take us out to a bar to get to know one another. He also brought along Manuel from Portugal - another CouchSurfing member who was staying with him at the time. Together we went to a small concert of really great local bands. It was definitely more of a local hangout; Thai and I were the only tourists in the entire place. But on such rare occasions you feel a bit priviledged to have found your way there. We were there until five in the morning before Thai was too tired to continue, but Manuel told me they stuck around until the end of the show... at 11AM.
In the end, Diego became our first CS experience, quickly followed by Juan - another member of the site who was able to house us for three more nights. He also happened to live on the 16th floor of his apartment building with a great view of the downtown area. He showed us several really great places to eat on a budget and even took us an hour north of the city on our last day together to explore the small riverside town of San Isidro. It might take some work, but so far we have had an excellent time with the Couch Surfing gig - new friends, great advice on the area, excellent views of the city, and free places to stay! Unfortunately we have had no luck finding anyone with the room and/or the desire to host us in the other areas of the country that we plan to visit so it looks like we're back to hostels for a bit. We will definitely have places to stay when we get back to BA, however, and we are both set on opening up our couches to guests when we return home.
Yesterday, following Katrine's birthday party and the arrival of Sean's dad and brother, we finally said our temporary goodbyes and got on a bus to Mendoza. As I write this, we are resting in a hostel in the heart of wine country. To be sure, the cost of accomodation in Argentina is more expensive than it was in Bolivia, but for $10 each we have a room to ourselves, a pool out on the patio (the smallest pool I've ever seen, but still), free breakfast, and all the complimentary wine we can drink. Rough. We should be here for about three days or so before moving south. Thai and I really want to rent mopeds and scuttle about the vineyards for some tastings. Then its off for Glacier National Park in Patagonia, Valdez Peninsula for whales and walruses, and up north again for Oktoberfest in the central hills of Cordoba (there is apparently a small German town that is famous for its celebration). We would like to get down to Ushuaia - the southernmost city on the planet - while we are in Patagonia, but we have heard mixed accounts of whether its reachable by bus. We shall see... Either way, after Oktoberfest we would head north to see Iguazu Falls and then return to the capitol for a few weeks before flying out.
Good luck to you all, wherever this finds you. And don't worry about us; we'll tipping a glass to each of you come tomorrow!
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