Easy travelin' on the south side of the earth.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
With school ended and my show at Eyedrum in place Cindy and I headed off for a vacation in Argentina. The three leg flight I purchased at a super low priced economy rate from Lan Chile Airlines turned out to be the longest time I have spent flying since I crossed the Pacific as a child in a converted B 29(To this day I can still remember the relentless roar of that ex-bombers propeller engines.) This flight was longer due to its roundabout route with layovers in Miami and Santiago. We arrived sleep deprived and took a shuttle to the Dora Hotel near Plaza San Martin at the advice of some friends. The Dora is far removed from some of the other inns and lodges I have slept in throughout Latin America. Among the features that Cindy appreciated were solid walls that extended all the way to the ceiling, windows, hot water, heat, maid service, and a mini bar.
Buenos Aires is massive, more European than Latin American. It is a crowded and busy place but has all my earmarks for a civilized place. One can walk or take public transport to get where you want to go, plus the food and drink are excellent and plentiful especially for carnivores. We had no trouble taking the local subway once we found out that Boleteria and Salida were not the names of Subte stations.
Some highlights
The Subte Linea A- Here you can ride on beautiful but somewhat distressed antique wooden subway cars.
Feral Cat Watching- BA has two great sites for this. The first is the famous Reccoleto cemetery, which is as wonderful as all the guidebooks say. Wandering amid the crypts, statuary and beaux-arts mausoleums are hundreds of well fed looking stray cats. The Jardin Botanico is a more pastoral setting for feral felines. Here scrawnier looking cats wander and fight in the shadows of exotic vegetation.
The Subte Linea A- Here you can ride on beautiful but somewhat distressed antique wooden subway cars.
Feral Cat Watching- BA has two great sites for this. The first is the famous Reccoleto cemetery, which is as wonderful as all the guidebooks say. Wandering amid the crypts, statuary and beaux-arts mausoleums are hundreds of well fed looking stray cats. The Jardin Botanico is a more pastoral setting for feral felines. Here scrawnier looking cats wander and fight in the shadows of exotic vegetation.
Lujan- When I suggested my interest in visiting this town on the pampas a few hours from BA on Lonely Planet’s Thorn Tree site, someone responded saying, “Who the hell would want to go to Lujan.” From that moment I was determined to visit the town. Lujan is the premier religious pilgrimage site for the Argentine. Legend has it that in colonial times an oxcart carrying a statue of the Virgin became stuck in a rut and the local townsfolk decided that this was a heavenly sign and that the statue needed to remain at this place. Years later a massive basilica was constructed (a few kilometers from the rut since the ground was not good there for a Chartes size edifice). We headed there on a Sunday along with a multitude of other pilgrims. To get to Lujan one must take a grimy commuter train for two and a half hours. In the train’s aisles was a constant procession of venders selling bootleg CDs of Argentine hits packaged in sandwich bags, charcoal grill lighters and spill proof unbreakable plastic yerba mate bombillas. The bombilla venders would loudly rap their wares against the metal handrails of the car to demonstrate their products durability as they proceeded up and down the train. As we continued out we saw more of the real Argentina where simple cinder block homes replaced of Belle Epoch grandeur of the capitals central district. We passed posters for local entertainment such as the group Pampas Yakuza, who I presume play Asian, influenced gangsta tango. In Lujan the massive basilica rises from the pampas and dominates the countryside. Stalls selling both religious and gaucho trinkets line the sidewalks on the way to the massive edifice. Inside, the church is conservative by Latin American standards, looking much more like a late gothic structure than some exotic miracle site below the Equator. As a miracle site most of the evidence of intercession is displayed in countless plaques that lines the walls around the altarpiece. Milagro pieces normally displayed randomly with a tin leg next to metallic eyeballs were also more systematically arranged. Here mosaics of milagros spelled out what miracles had come about. I was quite impressed with the collection of those in the shape of cows that spelled out in Spanish “bless our cattle.”
Outside the basilica was a line of cheap parrillas offering smoking meats for lunch (perhaps the same cattle saved in the miracle). The parrilla we dined in I nicknamed “Que el perro no quiere” since we were brought a platter containing something chewy that at one time could have been a belt or part of a saddle, two blood sausages, two somewhat edible sausages, some slices of tripe and some unknown variety meat. Next to our table a strange looking man adorned in red satin vestments sat at his table puffing copious amounts of Turkish tobacco from a three-foot tall hookah. Above our heads on a tarp strung over the dining area feral cats wandered gazing down on the meaty morsels we were not consuming.
Behind the basilica in the shadow of its steeples was a somewhat seedy small amusement park with rides and tawdry attractions. One attraction offered viewers a chance to see a real electric chair in action. Nearby along the pleasant Rio Lujan were locals in paddleboats and yet another amusement park.
Outside the basilica was a line of cheap parrillas offering smoking meats for lunch (perhaps the same cattle saved in the miracle). The parrilla we dined in I nicknamed “Que el perro no quiere” since we were brought a platter containing something chewy that at one time could have been a belt or part of a saddle, two blood sausages, two somewhat edible sausages, some slices of tripe and some unknown variety meat. Next to our table a strange looking man adorned in red satin vestments sat at his table puffing copious amounts of Turkish tobacco from a three-foot tall hookah. Above our heads on a tarp strung over the dining area feral cats wandered gazing down on the meaty morsels we were not consuming.
Behind the basilica in the shadow of its steeples was a somewhat seedy small amusement park with rides and tawdry attractions. One attraction offered viewers a chance to see a real electric chair in action. Nearby along the pleasant Rio Lujan were locals in paddleboats and yet another amusement park.
Tango- If Atlanta could promote clog dancing the way BA promotes tango, Atlanta would have a lot more tourists. We actually determined that there were only about a dozen tango dancers in the whole city. They just keep moving from place to place. The six dancers we saw at the Museo De Tango one night were spotted later on the streets of La Boca. Two dancers we saw at a tiny bar in the same neighborhood showed up back at the Museo De Tango when we went back with some friends the following week. We also took in Tango oriented entertainment at the theater in the Borges Center. Located in the back of an overly upscale mall installed in a grand Belle Epoch structure the center has a theater and several large gallery spaces. We took in two shows there. The first “Tango Postales” was a hodgepodge of tango and ballet. Cindy asked if the name meant, “Tango going postal”. The second show was stranger, entitled “Tango Loco”; the show consisted mostly of old Beatles songs performed with traditional Argentine arrangements. The accordion solo on Yellow Submarine was unbelievable.
Mendoza- Wanting to get away from the urbanity of BA we headed to Mendoza. I booked passage on a full cama overnight bus that took 12 hours to get to this city on the edge of the Andes. The deluxe full cama buses offer hot meals, champagne, tumblers of whiskey, fully reclining large leather seats, pleasant attendants and scary movies. On the way there I passed into dreamland while Cindy was frightened by dead bodies rising out of a lake in ”What lies beneath”. Much more unsettling fare was on return trip when bus-vision presented “Man on Fire” an action drama centering on violent kidnappings in Latin America.
Mendoza was easy to get around in but difficult to get out off. We arranged a full day tour of the high Andes but four hours into our tour a truck flipped over in a tunnel blocking all traffic for several hours. Since we were in the middle of winter visiting a vineyard would mean looking a miles of dry leafless and fruitless vines. Instead we opted for sampling wines in restaurants and exploring the cities outstanding parks and plazas.
Mendoza- Wanting to get away from the urbanity of BA we headed to Mendoza. I booked passage on a full cama overnight bus that took 12 hours to get to this city on the edge of the Andes. The deluxe full cama buses offer hot meals, champagne, tumblers of whiskey, fully reclining large leather seats, pleasant attendants and scary movies. On the way there I passed into dreamland while Cindy was frightened by dead bodies rising out of a lake in ”What lies beneath”. Much more unsettling fare was on return trip when bus-vision presented “Man on Fire” an action drama centering on violent kidnappings in Latin America.
Mendoza was easy to get around in but difficult to get out off. We arranged a full day tour of the high Andes but four hours into our tour a truck flipped over in a tunnel blocking all traffic for several hours. Since we were in the middle of winter visiting a vineyard would mean looking a miles of dry leafless and fruitless vines. Instead we opted for sampling wines in restaurants and exploring the cities outstanding parks and plazas.
BA Visual Arts-The city has an incredible collection of public art, grand monuments, museums and galleries. Street art contained a good collection of anti Bush and anti war graphics. Gentrification is also an issue in neighborhoods like San Telmo. There one can see graffiti condemning real estate developers and profiteers. In one bathroom stall of the Contemporary Art Museum in that same neighborhood I saw scrawled on the bano’s wall “Todos abogados estan puntos”.
Crossing the Rio Plato- For a reasonable fee we arranged passage on a ferry for a day trip to the Uruguay
an town of Colonia. The voyage across the mighty Rio Plato was made on the good ship Santa Isabel. A handsome ferry replent with glass elevators, a marble staircase (great for cracking ones head open upon in rough seas) a horrible snack bar and an extensive line of duty-free goods. Cindy had asked earlier if Colonia was like Williamsburg. I was most delighted when we landed there and entering the old city we were met by a half dozen colonial re-enactors looking very bored. Overall Colonia is a pleasant and quiet place to escape the noise of BA. While in Uruguay we dined at the strangely named restaurant ‘El Tunel Viejo”. I had no idea why it was call this until I used the facilities there and saw opposite the banos a gaping hole in a stone wall labeled tunnel. I have no idea where it led. At a small tienda we procured a bottle of undated Uruguayan Cabernet Sauvignon. On our return voyage on the Santa Isabel we sampled it and a bottle of 2003 Tannat. Our undated cab carried the flavor of an unrefrigderated container of Welch’s grape juice left uncapped for six days. The Tannat on the other hand was a tasty example of fine Uruguayan winemaking. Needing nourishment on the return trip we inspected the meager offerings of the ships provisioner. Cindy purchased a salad that was mostly cabbage and carrots, which with the aid of packets of mayo and vinegar we turned it into what may have been the best coleslaw ever prepared on the Rio Plata. Seeking more food we wandered through the aisles of the duty free shop. The best option we could envision was canned bonito soaked in Scotch served on Pettridge farm cookies. We decided it best to wait for a proper meat laden dinner in BA than explore this option.
Annoyances- Beggars and street urchins were few and far between in downtown BA. The begging street urchins looked more like lost middle schoolers in Little 5 Points than the empty eyed waifs one normally encounters in Latin America. One precocious blond youth’s method for soliciting funds appeared to be sticking a torn piece of paper in filthy sewer water then squeezing the vile liquid out onto the shoes of any one looking well to do. This did not happen to me since most Argentines are far better attired than I.
Crossing any street was also dangerous, as all taxis in the city seem determined to run over pedestrians. Otherwise BA is a pleasant place.
The long trip home- our return flight included at no extra cost an eight-hour layover in Santiago. We considered getting a day pass to the airline executive lounge. There for $15 we could take a shower, sit in more comfortable chairs, peruse the Internet, drink from a bottomless tumbler of hard liquor and eat a meager selection of candy and chocolates. Not wanting to fly the next ten hours hung over with toothaches we decided instead to spend the time examining every duty free item for sale in the airport. Among the items offered were cans of razor clams, ceramic Easter Island Tikis in a wide range of sizes, a variety of toy penguins and a multitude of wines. There was also the usual duty free fodder of chocolate, perfume cigarettes and hard liquor. What I did not find were T-shirts saying “Chillen’ in Chile”, packages of authentic Chilean chili powder and neckties with a map of the long and thin nation on them. After hours of meandering though the shops I finally settled three bottles of Pisco to use for a closing party for my photography show on Friday.
Crossing the Rio Plato- For a reasonable fee we arranged passage on a ferry for a day trip to the Uruguay
an town of Colonia. The voyage across the mighty Rio Plato was made on the good ship Santa Isabel. A handsome ferry replent with glass elevators, a marble staircase (great for cracking ones head open upon in rough seas) a horrible snack bar and an extensive line of duty-free goods. Cindy had asked earlier if Colonia was like Williamsburg. I was most delighted when we landed there and entering the old city we were met by a half dozen colonial re-enactors looking very bored. Overall Colonia is a pleasant and quiet place to escape the noise of BA. While in Uruguay we dined at the strangely named restaurant ‘El Tunel Viejo”. I had no idea why it was call this until I used the facilities there and saw opposite the banos a gaping hole in a stone wall labeled tunnel. I have no idea where it led. At a small tienda we procured a bottle of undated Uruguayan Cabernet Sauvignon. On our return voyage on the Santa Isabel we sampled it and a bottle of 2003 Tannat. Our undated cab carried the flavor of an unrefrigderated container of Welch’s grape juice left uncapped for six days. The Tannat on the other hand was a tasty example of fine Uruguayan winemaking. Needing nourishment on the return trip we inspected the meager offerings of the ships provisioner. Cindy purchased a salad that was mostly cabbage and carrots, which with the aid of packets of mayo and vinegar we turned it into what may have been the best coleslaw ever prepared on the Rio Plata. Seeking more food we wandered through the aisles of the duty free shop. The best option we could envision was canned bonito soaked in Scotch served on Pettridge farm cookies. We decided it best to wait for a proper meat laden dinner in BA than explore this option.
Annoyances- Beggars and street urchins were few and far between in downtown BA. The begging street urchins looked more like lost middle schoolers in Little 5 Points than the empty eyed waifs one normally encounters in Latin America. One precocious blond youth’s method for soliciting funds appeared to be sticking a torn piece of paper in filthy sewer water then squeezing the vile liquid out onto the shoes of any one looking well to do. This did not happen to me since most Argentines are far better attired than I.
Crossing any street was also dangerous, as all taxis in the city seem determined to run over pedestrians. Otherwise BA is a pleasant place.
The long trip home- our return flight included at no extra cost an eight-hour layover in Santiago. We considered getting a day pass to the airline executive lounge. There for $15 we could take a shower, sit in more comfortable chairs, peruse the Internet, drink from a bottomless tumbler of hard liquor and eat a meager selection of candy and chocolates. Not wanting to fly the next ten hours hung over with toothaches we decided instead to spend the time examining every duty free item for sale in the airport. Among the items offered were cans of razor clams, ceramic Easter Island Tikis in a wide range of sizes, a variety of toy penguins and a multitude of wines. There was also the usual duty free fodder of chocolate, perfume cigarettes and hard liquor. What I did not find were T-shirts saying “Chillen’ in Chile”, packages of authentic Chilean chili powder and neckties with a map of the long and thin nation on them. After hours of meandering though the shops I finally settled three bottles of Pisco to use for a closing party for my photography show on Friday.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
No Yard Sales in Buenos Aires
I´m in Argentina this week. Yesterday I kept my eyes open for yard sales but no one around Plaza San Martin has yards to have sales in. More on this when I return.
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