gonna make these ones short and add pictures when i can
so i went on that city tour the first day, then met up with lisa and tricia and lisa´s friend cecilia at the bus terminal...
after our first night in the HI hostel, we moved over to Andino Hostel, which had a lot more travellors and was run by other travellors...people who had been passing through and then just stayed. nice place, though it would have made the unbearable heat in mendoza (which is actually in the middle of a dessert) bearable if the pool hadn´t been a murky puddle in the backyard. it was right next to a bunch of trees and a dj with turn tables, so that made up for it. now if only the argentine population could work on their audio aesthetics...
paragliding the second day...this is where they take you to the top of a mountain the size of grouse (3,700 meters), or thrice the size of blue mountain, on what amounts to a goat path in the back of a rickety old ford pickup. you pass cactus and thorn bushes, then finally get to the top, where they strap you to a man that flies the sail and throw you off the mountain. if the conditions are right, you fly upwards on thermals then descend kilometers away where the pilot´s wife is waiting to drive you back into town. i dunno...it may have just been the day´s conditions, or the particular pilot i got, but i didn´t think it was so thrilling...more like a leisurely glide down to the ground. sure, it was high, but not particularly fast or anything...
on the third day we went on a vineyards tour...which was cool. three different vineyards and one distillery; they taught us how wine and spirits are made, and gave us plenty of opportunity to sample them. then when we were all famished, they took us to this quaint old house and sat us down at a table that was absolutely COVERED in food. too much food. but oh-so-good.
fourth day we went on a tour that went up into the mountains...saw this 'inca bridge' which turned out to be massively disappointing. i was hoping to see ancient architecture, and all we saw was an abandoned hotel from the turn of the century. sure, the natural bridge made by mineral deposits was cool, but i wasn´t there to see a natural wonder, i wanted to see really old stuff! not a place where an inca may or may not have crossed thousands of years ago. but anyways, the aconcagua was pretty impressive, apparently you can get up to the top on the north face without needing hardcore ice picks and such...so sean? what´d´ya think, wanna get to the top of the highest mountain in the andes one day? takes under a month...
then that night we took the red eye bus to cordoba. and got a shower out of the deal, as the bus leaked when it started to rain, and there really weren´t any seats that were safe from the constant drip.
Word of the Day: tepid
Canada, WTF?!?
turnin yankee are we?
ok guys. i LOVE being canadian. but what the hell were y´all thinkin´??? this kinda seals my indecision...maybe i´ll come home when we elect decent representation, not bush jr jr. waydago canada.
Listen to Railton!
aight, having left the bustle of buenos aires, i arrive in mendoza a ´lil early only to find that my future travel mates haven´t gotten their shit together and won´t arrive till tonight. bugger.
so i did what Lonnie would do, or should´ve done: i bought a 7up. or, in my case, a coca light.
chill in the park, which is very beautiful, much nicer than the parks in B.A, and survey my options. hostel - found it and made my reservations, check. tomorrow - found an adventure tour company and made plans with them, check. what the hell do i do now? spend an hour puttering about online, then engancharme with a group going on a city tour. will this screw me over when the girls want to do the same? yes, probably. but then i can go paragliding.
the good thing about buenos aires is you don´t have to kill yourself - the cars will do it for you.
dealing with the government is IMPOSSIBLE, thank whatever-greater-power-is-out-there that, like joe, I AM CANADIAN!
so THERE.
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the problem with moving around in a city of 18 million people is that you need to know exactly where you´re going or you won´t get there. and by this i mean EXACTLY: have been there before, have a fairly detailed map in your head of where it is, and a working plan on how to get there.
which was not my situation as i left the bus terminal at 6 am armed with a 72 litre backpack, a 35 litre backpack, and a 12 litre day pack. HEAVY. not to mention bulky. after getting on the wrong bus and being transported several stops, then getting on the right bus without change, then finally getting it right only to have the drive´r´s "indication" of where i needed to go gurn out to be a barely preceptible nod in one of many rear view mirror,s i gotto the passport office only to find the line was already wrapped around the block, and a friendly chattering old man was walking along it selling coffee, chocolate, pastries, and pens (which were a rip off, at four times the cost of the pen i´m writing this with. as it turns out, he was also a fount of information, and having verified that i was in fact at the right place, with all the right supporting documents, i sat down on the vageuly urine smelling grimmy pavement and prepared to wait the 1.5 hours till the office opened.
screw them. i waited till the office opened, then they sent me somewhere else because one of the documents i had was expired. so i went there. then they sent me somewhere else, because i don´t actually live within the country, but outside of it. so i went there. then they send me somewhere else, because the wait to get that particular document was three months, and i needed it a hell of a lot sooner. so i went there and they told me there was no way i would get what i needed. so i sat down and cried. this is after hauling my stupid bags for blocks and blocks and blocks and blocks, and dealing with officious imbeciles who were not helpful at all.
ran to an internet place, found a hostel, and gave up on my shoestring mentality and took a cab there (it was only U$2 anyways). as i was checking into the hostel, i met a swede with an australian accent, and spent the next 24 hours with him and his friends being tourists in buenos aires (although not really his friends, as they refused to speak english, and swedish? me? yea right). so that was an absolutly fantastic start to my solo adventures, and then i got on the bus to mendoza to meet lisa and trish.
"Quiero ser un pendejo, aunque me vuelva viejo."
so nice to be back on a bike! i didn´t realize how much i missed my bike (lies: every time i have to walk somewhere i yearn for my two wheels) till i got on one. those familiar with my slightly bruised and battered department store bike will know that i was of the opinion that i had the worst derailer shimano makes. i now know better. they save their crappiest ones for argentina. this 18-gear thing i have here is amazing in how much it just doesn´t work. like my bike, the front gear won´t shift up from the middle gear. unlike my bike, it also won´t shift down. fine fine, i´m used to it, my baby generally stays on the middle gear as well.
BUT. the fact that the front gear doesn´t really work does not imply that the rear gear works. out of 6 gears, i got 3 to shift. and i say "i got" because i lost count of how many times the chain simply fell off the bike as i figured this stuff out.
one more thing about this marvelous bicycle. i was riding along, thinking "i wonder how much travel this fork has, cuz it´s awfully bumpy..." ha. travel what? the "shocks" on this thing consist of the squishy black things over a completely static fork. seriously totally, utterly, and absolutely for show.
anyways, the ride around the lake was nice. reminiscent of lost lagoon. after peddling around there for a bit, stopping to have lunch at a lil´ place that was playing the argentine equivelant of goldfinger (see title), i took off towards the nearby 2.5 million year old mountain range. didn´t make it too far tho. i left the town and my surroundings very quickly turned rural. i met some of the famed argentina beef...
and pedalled up some steep hills (toronto, think bathurst to st. clair; vancouver, think up lonsdale from the quay). as i crested one hill, another would emerge up ahead. it got to the point that neither i, nor my quads, nor my bike wanted to have anything to do with the hills.
and then...it began to rain. torrential downpour style. i made an executive decision, of the kind that only a solo traveller can make, turned tail and went zooming downhill back to town. competely drenched, of course, but at least i wasn´t going uphill against the hurricane style wind.
the town is tranquil, quaint, cobblestone streets...a nice change from the tourist laden coast. and by tourist i don´t mean foreigners...buenos aires, with some 18 million people, empties out onto the atlantic coast in the summer, as the inhabitants that can flee the oppressive heat.
this is their public transit ...and i think most people move around on bikes. this has been the only place where i´ve seen bicycles on the roads...take a montreal driver and multiply their dangerousness by reckless squared, and you´ve got an argentine driver. needless to say, bikes don´t last long, generally. not here tho.
took some pictures of tourists, had them take my picture...yay old buildings.
just in case you didn´t get it the first 10 times, this place does photocopies...
first time a plane flew over this city was on the 14th of july, 1914, flown by ed olivero. awwwwww...how nice for him.
"place where old people live." literally. saw another one where young boys live. i wonder where all the girls are.
warms the heart to see that at least they´re trying. yay alternative energy sources!!!
here we are, they´re obliging me by playing tourist...traditional fisherman´s wharf, complete with rusting relics...
sea lions...boy do these stink. there weren´t as many of them as there tends to be cuz it was so hot...they´re all in the water coolin´ off. where we should have been. well, maybe not right there...
christina took me and gretel to the water tower to see the view (couldn´t give an impromptu lesson on backlighting...i shall never be a prof)...
then we walked up and down the coast. it´s sad to see how much of it is in bad states of disrepair...there was this one old hotel, that they were doing some construction inside so i could sneak a peek - so much more ornate, majestic, and elaborate than anything we´ve got in canada, and it´s completely empty. not being used at all...closed and boarded up. no one can afford to stay there, let alone fix it up...
we went one incredibly smokey bar who´s name starts with a "C" and no matter how many times i ask i can´t seem to retain, then the next night to this place the kids knew, antares. turns out lonely planet recommends it too. funny how no matter where i go in the world, i´ll always end up in the same sorts of places - microbreweries that play coldplay and the killers. good times.
Dammit!
first mosquito bites of the season. which is, in itself, rather surprising, since i usually get bitten if there´s a single mosquito within a 1km range...maybe not quite as bad as super-dave though... ;-)
It finally happened!
just like i knew it would. walking the 4km down the beach from the kite surfing place to my grandparent´s beach, a car rolled by me blasting Da Rude´s Sandstorm. hurrah for cheezy techno!
Banks suck!
hey mister canadian, guess what? your debit card is probably your best bet for cash, anywhere! for whatever reason (read: i lost my wallet), i got stuck with traveler's cheques.
well, banks here are open 10-3, monday-friday. i saunter in, 11 am. wait in the ridiculous line - sort of like that congo line at your parent´s last work christmas party...you know, the one that wound around the entire room with no apparent end. no listening to music either, cuz i lost the cord that connects the power adapter to my ipod, and desperately wanted to conserve existing battery life until i can get money to buy a new one. so one hour later, i get to the cashier. "you want to cash traveler's cheques? that´s upstairs first; they give you a piece of paper, then you come back down here." you´re kidding me.
upstairs. wait half an hour to see the dude in charge of this particular piece of paper. wait count so far: 1.5 hours. now, "upstairs" is not what you would expect in a bank. rather, its a large, tiled room with a balcony overlooking the cashiers below (who, by the way, are also nothing like the bank tellers back home. they keep change in little bags scattered around their work space). 
there are seven desks scattered around the room,absolutely no regard given to a client´s privacy. i could tell you all about the blond lady´s mortgage, but i won´t. manila folders are stacked on every available surface, with their contents referenced in black sharpie-marker on the cover. "Sra Rodriguez´s life savings." filing cabinets, anyone?
Hector was finally free to give me a hand. ashing his cigarette in the ashtray on the corner of his desk, he took my traveler's cheques and precious canadian passport and disappeared. seriously M.I.A. for an hour. i could see him mysteriously pop in and out of various parts of the bank like a demented cartoon character, but never near enough to make eye contact.
eventually he comes back. "sorry, but i can´t download the sheet i need. i tried every computer. can you come back tomorrow?" current wait count: 2.5 hours.
10am the next day. i dodge the blank-faced customers already lined up around the block and scurry upstairs. my friend hector eagerly takes my cheques and passport and pulls his disappearing act. 20 minutes later, he´s back: "so, that wasn´t so long this time!" HA.
i take the piece of paper to the cashier with every curl on his head gelled in place, and watch with dismay as i see confusion appear all over his face. "there seems to be a problem..." and POOF! he´s gone.
an hour later, i´ve listened to every jack johnson and david grey track on my ipod, using up precious battery life, in vain hopes of calming down. the cashier returns, my friend hector in tow. like a couple of little monkeys at the zoo, they jabber excitedly at each other, bouncing up and down and taking turns pointing at the god forsaken piece of paper.
"it´s ok," hector says, "it was in pesos, not american dollars." total wait time: 3 hours 50 minutes.
did i mention i was trying to cash U$100? and what with kitesurfing, renting atvs, and buying my bus tickets for the next few weeks, i´m back at the bank, waiting for hector, so i can cash some more traveller´s cheques. the moral of the story? don´t travel with traveller´s cheques, and DON´T LOOSE YOUR WALLET!!!
Kites, and boards, and beaches, oh my!
so dustin and i took our first (and for him, last) kite surfing class. it's kinda fun to be blown about with what amounts to a snowboard strapped to your feet, yet not be cold. i could definitly get into this, especially since i know where they do it in vancouver (as does anyone who's climbed to the top of the squamish chief and looked down). only thing is, none of my friends kite-board. there must be some online forum thingy to find people to do this with...aubrey?
we went 'downtown' at night, had a green drink on the beach, and met some locals. one in particular was telling us about this crazy 90,000 people international party, and how the best one was (obviously) in argentina. creamfields it's called. so car, it'll be om --> shambhala --> burningman --> creamfields. sounds good to me, lukas, you down?
dustin met a bonified rugby star (*gasp*) who invited him out back in buenos aires. the power went out completely. was kinda neat...people milling around not really knowing what to do, you can't go dancing when there's no electricity to power the huge speakers and light systems...we got a lift from these dudes with a dvd player mounted in their car, and they were showing (drum roll please) a maradona video. the power did eventually come back on, but i opted to chill on the beach instead of going into Ku, the nightclub about 100 meters from our tent - i'd been there before, and didn't feel like it.
Corporate sponsorship what?!
so the amount of corporate sponsorship here is astounding. everything seems to be associated with at least one fortune 500 company. dustin and i went for a walk ´downtown´ with my uncle, aunt, and little cousin, and managed to catch the citroen show. i haven´t seen anything so ridiculous in a long time! it starts out ok, cirque-du-soleil style with costumed acrobats bouncing off the walls. then it quickly deteriorates as shiny black leotard wearing dancers with holes cut stragetgically thoughout their costumes come out and gyrate on big blocks along to what my sister later assures me is a madonna song. i should have guess i suppose, they were wearing the madonna-style pyramid boobs! it was impressive in a weird sort of way...flashing lights, dj spinning in a booth high above the 3 meter screen tooting on one of those horns that´s better suited for starting desert drag races than hooting along to music.
the ford show was marginally better. again, cirque-du-soleil style, with trapeze artists dressed like mermaids doing their thing high above the crowd. suddenly, the lights dim and the music quiets down to a tolerable level...when...FLASH! everything comes back full force, and you see that there are now scantily clad dancers doing aqua-batics in huge tanks in the middle of the audience. go ford go!
Some thoughts in transit...
- "O'Hare International Airport" is a deceptively romantic-sounding name. the airport itself is more like a mall on steroids with suckling planes.
- there is a prevalence of those android-like ear pieces that dennis so loves...it seems like every third person's wearing them! i managed to tear my eyes away from the stream of automaton plodding through the hallways to look to my right and see a 2 meter ad: "Automation - technology and YOU! We can make it happen!" some company spouting the virtues of cybernetics. creepy.
- bearded tree-planters lace hiking boots alongside stern-faced businessmen who quickly replace black leather dress shoes, whole white-haired argyle-clad gentlemen slip into soft brown loafers - homeland security makes NO exceptions, there could be bombs hiding in YOUR shoes!
- "your attention please, moving walkway is coming to an end. please look down." as i wandered through the airport for four hours, i made it a point to always look up at the mirrored ceiling when i got to the end of the people-mover.
- i need to have a word with the person who designed the bathrooms in the airport. at least the women´s. have you ever struggled to cram yourself AND your carry-on baggage into one of those miniscule stalls as the P.A. blares "please do not leave your luggage unattended. unattended luggage will be confiscated by the chicago police."? and that´s nothing compared to the struggle to get OUT of the stall...the doors open inwards for chrissake!
Leavin' on a jet plane...!
january 9th, 2006. i'm off! will meet dustin in the airport in buenos aires then head straight to pinamar. yay beaches, here i come!
when i got here it began to rain properly...and none of this vancouver-style drizzle, i´m talking actual RAIN here...picture kinda sucks cuz i was hiding out in a kiosco, but that´s an impromptu river along the curb there...
ok toronto, i think you´ve got some serious street meat competition here. those are little french fries on top there...and there were like 20 different dressings to choose from!
gretel and german as we do the whole cell-phone-figure-out-plans-bit. and yes, those are actual names down here. not "german" but "her-man".
