Argentina Day 3 11/29/2013 Photo Album

In 2012 when we canceled our trip to Argentina, we informed the hotels after the notification date, so they held our deposit. Once we booked our airline tickets for the 2013 trip, I contacted Miravida Soho and Lirolay Suites to book reservations and asked if they would apply our deposits as credits against our stays and both agreed to do so. Unfortunately, Miravida Soho did not have any rooms available on November 28, thus, our stay at the Vain Hotel. In order to use our deposit credit, however, we booked Friday night November 29 at Miravida Soho so that became the focal point of our remaining time in Buenos Aires.

We slept fairly late on Friday morning partially due to the four hour time change and also a function of the poor sleep obtained on the overnight flight. Continental breakfast was included in our one night’s lodging so we enjoyed a relaxing meal of fresh pastries and fruit in the bright Vain Hotel dining room, and then we packed our bags, checked out, and walked to the Miravida Soho Hotel that was approximately three blocks away in the same Palermo Soho section of Buenos Aires. Because we booked with Miravida first, we corresponded with the staff extensively from Denver ahead of time, and they made all of our reservations. Miravida sent us several lists of attractions, activities and restaurants that described them in detail, and we set our itinerary using this information.

Our first reservation on Friday was a bicycling tour and that was scheduled to begin at 1:30PM. Julie was the Miravida employee at the check in counter when we arrived, and our room was not ready, so we stored our luggage. Julie then helped us obtain a taxi that transported us to San Telmo, the headquarters of the bicycling tour company. Julie was the first Miravida employee that we met, and she was originally from Germany, and a very interesting person, and she was very helpful as were all the Miravida employees that we met. It was fun to connect the faces to the names that we’d seen on the email correspondence that went back and forth before our trip. The three names most often signed on the emails were Frauke, Nadia and Felipe; and we met all of them over the next two days. Julie and Gabriel were new names and fresh faces that proved to be equally friendly and adept at assisting us in translation, currency exchange, hiring taxis and providing directions.

Our taxi arrived in front of the hotel and we climbed in the back seat and made the cross city ride to San Telmo where we exited, paid the driver in pesos, and crossed the street to the bicicleta. A young lady greeted us and confirmed our reservation, and since we were a couple hours early, we asked her for ideas on places to visit and also a recommendation for lunch. She was quite helpful and provided directions to Defensa Avenue and an indoor antique market and then a lunch spot nearby. Jane and I departed with a nice bicycling map and walked a short distance down Defensa to the market where we browsed the various stalls and then checked out the produce and meat market at the one end. We didn’t purchase anything here but when we exited back on to Defensa we noticed Plaza Dorrego with numerous street merchants around the perimeter of the square. We circled this area and purchased quite a few gifts for our family and friends back in the U.S. We attempted to haggle a bit; however, were fairly unsuccessful except for one buy where we obtained a two for one discount.

We checked our watches and realized we needed to find a restaurant for lunch as only an hour remained before the start of our bike tour, so we retraced our steps east on Defensa to Indepencia where we turned north and found a tiny storefront advertising empanadas. This was the place we were seeking so we entered and were instantly amazed by the array of art, souveniers, momentos, and crafts displayed in this tiny shop. Items were hanging from the ceiling and attached to the wall everywhere in a clear case of sensory overload. We were here for the empanadas, and sure enough there was a glass display case with six varieties of the delectable pastries in front of us. We ordered three doughy treats, one corn and two chicken, and waited for the counterperson to heat them up. Once again the man behind the counter spoke no English, so it was difficult to know what we were getting, and the communication process involved a fair amount of repetition and sign language.

After 15 minutes the empanadas were delivered to our seats at the counter along the wall, and I discovered that the corn version contained cheese, so Jane was forced to eat it plus half of one of the chicken varieties, while I consumed 1.5 chicken empanadas. They were quite tasty and after eating, we quickly returned to the bicycle shop and waited for the tour guide and two additional paying members of our tour. Our tour guide, Sondra, arrived and helped us adjust our seats and fitted us for helmets, and then Anna and Jens from Denmark arrived and joined the tour. Off we went on a cobblestone street under construction and then we stopped at Plaza Dorrega where Jane and I had already spent part of our morning.

Unfortunately we were unable to get on the morning tour of the northern areas of Buenos Aires and ended up on the southern circuit which covered many of the same landmarks and areas that we’d visited the day before on the bus tour. However, it was still interesting to have a different tour guide who added stories and information to what we’d heard the day before, and touring by bicycle was a more intimate experience with more time to look around and see things that we quickly passed while inside a bus. Sondra did a good job of taking us on secondary streets that were less traveled; however, there were some intersections between La Boca and Puerta Madero that proved challenging due to the heavy traffic and cars and trucks turning in various directions.

One exciting deviation from the bus tour was a detour into a natural preserve where we pedaled down a crude park road and eventually stopped next to a huge body of water. Had the guide not informed us otherwise, I would have assumed this to be the Atlantic Ocean due to the waves and inability to see any land in the distance, but Sondra announced that this was the Rio de la Plata and the widest river in the world. My own research reveals that there is some debate as to whether this body of water is really a river or estuary. At any rate it was quite large and impressive and an interesting diversion from the bus tour route.

We returned to the bicycle office by 5PM and while waiting there for a taxi, I initiated a conversation with two couples that were returning bikes and were speaking English. Much to my amazement they were from Allentown, Pa. and Doylestown, Pa., and we knew some people in common that worked for Air Products, one of my former employers. It truly is a small world, and due to technology, becoming smaller all the time. Scheduling a taxi was proving to be a challenge since we were now in rush hour, so the shop employee suggested we walk a block south to a busy boulevard and flag one down, and we followed his advice and quickly found an empty cab parked along the curb in front of us. We jumped in and showed the driver a card with the address of the Miravida, and he executed a quick turnaround and we were on our way.

The next hour would prove to be one of the most exciting adventures of our stay in Argentina. The first ten minutes passed by fairly normally although Buenos Aires traffic even under normal conditions is chaotic with high speeds and a general disregard for traffic signs and lane markers. As we traveled down a major avenue and stopped at a traffic light in the leftmost of three lanes, the driver threw up his hands in despair and pointed ahead. Jane and I could now see a barricade blocking all but one lane with a parking lot of cars jammed into the block between us and the single lane. I’m sure most taxi drivers are by nature impatient personalities, but fortunately for us, ours appeared to possess an extremely hyperactive nature.

He immediately made a 90 degree right turn and cut off two lanes of cars with sudden starts and stops until he cleared the intersection and inched along in the jam packed street filled with rush hour vehicles trying to avoid the traffic snarl in front of us. The next thirty minutes were just amazing as the driver constantly honked on his horn and crossed back and forth between three lanes attempting to find the least resistant traffic flow. While this was taking place, he glanced back at me several times and motioned toward the steering wheel. I assumed he was asking if I wanted to drive, so I just laughed and shook my head to the negative. After the second pantomime session seeking my agreement to drive, I uttered the word relax. Apparently he recognized this word as there is a close cousin in Spanish because he began to roar with laughter and repeated the word relax over and over.

In another example of utter bravado we came upon another jammed intersection with cars in the two left lanes waiting to cross traffic and make a left hand turn. These drivers were far more timid than ours, and after honking his horn repeatedly and during a temporary lull in oncoming traffic, our man swerved around two cars and crossed the intersection in the lane designated to carry oncoming traffic. What a thrill ride we were on!

Finally we managed to make a left turn and travel four or five blocks and get back on the main boulevard that was blocked causing this mess in the first place. Once on the major thoroughfare more space opened up, and Mr. Impatient pressed the accelerator and raced down the left lane in the open space like a dog released from his restraining leash. We were moving along rapidly in the left lane, but I noticed cars sticking their noses into our lane attempting to merge and our driver was having none of it as he honked and pressed on with nerves of steel.

We arrived at the Miravida and vacated the cab in one piece after paying our fare along with a hefty tip. The fare ended up being roughly 30% greater than the morning trip, and that is a tribute to the skill set of our favorite taxi driver. My hands were still shaking as we entered the hotel and checked in for the day. Nadia was now at the counter so we introduced ourselves to her, and Frauke excused herself from a meeting in the next room to greet us as well. We were assigned a small room on the second floor and moved our luggage from the storage area and showered and changed into our dinner clothes.

We chose Sarkis as our dinner spot for Friday night, and the Miravida crew informed us that it was ten blocks away and within walking distance. Sarkis did not take reservations so Nadia and Frauke suggested that we arrive at 8:30 to avoid a wait and we made that our plan. We had a bit of time to kill so we departed the hotel early and did some browsing and window shopping on the streets of Palermo Soho on the way and arrived at almost exactly 8:30. The advice was accurate as we were quickly escorted into the spacious Armenian restaurant with rows of tables on opposite sides of a main aisle. We ordered a bottle of Malbec and pita bread with hummus as an appetizer. For our main course we both ordered lamb; Jane enjoyed a roasted lamb shank while I had ground lamb shaped like a long sausage served on top of a pita with large amounts of tzitziki sauce spread over the top. It was all delectable and we overindulged before paying our bill and returning to the hotel where the staff once again ordered a taxi for yet another trip to San Telmo.

Our last venture was to attend a tango show and we chose the Taconeando as our venue, and it turned out to be within two blocks of the bicycle tour starting point. The taxi ride was uneventful for a change and we both jumped out and entered the tango building. We were seated on the upper tier and ordered drinks while many of the patrons finished their dinners. Finally at 10:30 the musicians climbed on to the stage and played an instrumental and then a trio of dancers joined them and performed a brief routine. Throughout the remainder of the show, a male singer, a female singer and the dancers alternated between dance numbers and singing solo ballads in Spanish. As neither Jane nor I could understand the Spanish, we enjoyed the dancing much more than the crooning.

At the end of the performance, the host took the microphone and went around the room and asked where everyone was from. We were the only attendees from the United States with guests present from Chile, Columbia, Belgium, Brazil and the Netherlands. Once the introductions ended the dancers reappeared and invited paying guests to join them in a final dance. Dave was left sitting by himself as the tallest most handsome male dancer approached Jane and swept her off her feet for a final dance.

One final time we flagged a taxi and crossed Buenos Aires to our hotel where we found our room and crashed after a fun filled full day.

Argentina Day 2 Photo Album 11/28/2013

Have you ever suddenly woken from a deep sleep and felt disoriented and bewildered? That was the state I was in when we landed in Ezeiza International Airport outside of Buenos Aires. We each experienced perhaps five hours of intermittent sleep and now walked through the airport in a location four hours ahead of Denver in time. The time difference was minor compared to the six month change in seasons, and while this was a bit disorienting at first, it was certainly a welcome adjustment. We knew that we were in a Spanish speaking country, but soon discovered that English was not as prevalent as in other places we visited. The most imminent challenge facing us was the Argentine currency, the peso.

The current official exchange rate is just over 6 pesos to the U.S. dollar, but it didn’t take long for us to discover two facts. One was that Argentines willingly accept U.S. $’s as payment and in fact prefer it. The second finding was that there were many unofficial points of exchange with rates ranging from 6.5 to 10. If one searched diligently, one could obtain 10 pesos for every dollar and this represented almost a 40% increase in purchasing power. Unfortunately the travel guides and knowledgeable individuals urged caution about counterfeit pesos, so my natural inclination was to be more circumspect when receiving 10 pesos for one dollar.

We made reservations for our first night at the Vain Hotel in the Palermo Soho section of Buenos Aires and the hotel arranged for a transfer service from Ezeiza. After gathering our luggage we found the taxi station and discovered our name on an overhead sign. We experienced a brief wait until our driver arrived and he loaded the car trunk as we climbed in the back seat. Before we knew it we were speeding down the expressway on a bright sunny Thanksgiving Day with temperatures already around 70 degrees Fahrenheit, or 19 degrees using the local scale.

After a one and a half hour drive and quite a bit of stop and go driving on narrow streets, we arrived at the Vain Hotel. It took some sign language and writing with a pen and paper and usage of a small calculator, but we eventually settled on an amount for the taxi fare including tip, and I paid approximately $50. The Vain Hotel was a small boutique inn, but quite bright and pleasant, and the staff went out of their way to speak English and make us comfortable. Our room wasn’t yet ready since we arrived before noon, so the staff stored our luggage and suggested a place within two blocks for lunch. Jane and I both expressed a desire for a light lunch including perhaps a salad, and the young lady described a deli in close proximity.

Off we went still in possession of only greenbacks and after a short walk we came upon an intersection with a cafe on the corner on our side of the street. We both decided this must be the place and entered. The restaurant was completely empty so we had it to ourselves and after a brief wait a polite young man appeared. It was clear he spoke no English as he pointed to the colorful menu on the blackboard which of course was entirely in Spanish with no English translation. Jane and I simultaneously spotted the word chorizo, and from our visits to Mexican restaurants in Denver, we knew this as a sausage. We quickly jumped on this and both placed chorizo orders along with potatoes.

We sat down at a small table along the wall and waited for fifteen minutes when the young waiter/manager appeared with two plates containing sizzling steaks and a pile of potatoes that resembled home fries with no onions. Where did we go awry? We went in search of salad, thought we ordered sausage and ended up with steak and potatoes. We later discovered that we ordered bife de chorizo, a popular Argentine cut of steak. I wasn’t about to waste the juicy steak even though I normally avoid red meat, so I cut it into pieces and downed it along with the tasty fried potatoes. This was just the beginning of ten days of feasting on delicious Argentine specialties.

Fortified with a dinner-sized lunch Jane and I exited the cafe and observed a nice little deli on the opposite corner of the street. This was probably the destination that the Vain employee directed us to. Oh well, we needed an introduction to Argentina steak at some point, so why not our first meal? We returned to the Vain Hotel and prepared for our bus tour. At the pre-arranged time of 1:30 a taxi arrived with our bus tour guide and drove us to the starting point in a touristy section of the city with many hotels and restaurants. Here we transferred from the taxi to a small shuttle van and were joined by an elderly couple and their daughter from Dallas, TX. The daughter’s name was Sonya and she was a doctor specializing in sleep therapy, and I wondered where she was when I required her expertise to sleep during the overnight flight. Three more women boarded the bus, and they were Nina, Johanna and Tarja from Finland and they were attending a convention on forest products. We waited a bit longer and eventually two men and a woman from Los Angeles jumped on board and sat toward the rear.

We now departed and began a nice tour of the southern regions of Buenos Aires. First we stopped in San Telmo, the original settlement and now the home of the pink building or the president’s office building. We strolled through Plaza de Mayo in front of the pink building and snapped a few photos. The parliament building was visible down one of the avenues opposite the pink building and another angled spoke revealed the judicial building. Our guide pointed out the plain inconspicuous building along the plaza where the current pope resided before moving to Rome.

We moved on and stopped next in La Boca, the area originally settled by Italian immigrants. Numerous examples of tenement homes remained with the outside covered with corrugated metal painted in various bright colors. The settlers used materials from the nearby shipyards to construct their homes hence the array of bright colors. Next we drove past the stadium that is home to the Boca Juniors, the most famous futbol team in Argentina and the team for which Diego Maradona played. Our guide informed us that “Pele is royalty, but Maradona is God”.

Next we stopped in an area consisting of three or four narrow streets populated by small gift shops and restaurants and sidewalk cafes. This was a very touristy area and there were many street performers including quite a few tango dancers as La Boca is apparently the area where the tango originated among the working class immigrants. It did not spread beyond La Boca until Paris popularized it and then it was adopted around the world.

Once again we boarded the bus and traveled along a wide avenue to the Puerto Madero area, a relatively new area of the city where an investor purchased a large plot of land near a canal and constructed a planned community consisting mostly of high rise office buildings and apartments. In truth it seemed quite sterile and lifeless compared to the other bustling areas we’d visited on the tour.

Our final stop was Recoleta Cemetary. Our guide explained that rich families owned sections of the densely packed burial ground, and the tombs went vertically upward and downward to accomodate multiple generations. While here we visited the tomb of Eva Peron and this gave our guide an opportunity to explain the history of the Perons and their influence on Argentne life.

After the tour, we took a taxi back to the Vain Hotel and exchanged dollars for pesos at a rate of 8 to 1 and checked into our room which was on the first floor just off the small pleasant courtyard beyond the check in desk. 4PM was tea and coffee hour so we meandered up to the patio on the second floor and enjoyed the treats that were offered. Jane discovered that she loved the coffee at the Vain Hotel and the flavor was so rich that she drank it black. We had reservations for dinner at 8:30PM at Don Julio Parilla so we killed some time by browsing the area and locating the Miravida Soho Hotel as that was where we reserved a room for Friday night.

Don Julio’s was six or seven blocks from our hotel so we decided to stroll there and work off our bife de chorizo, and we arrived right on time for our reservation. The hostess escorted us upstairs to a delightful small loft area overlooking the entire restaurant. The walls were covered with empty wine bottles and the establishment filled up quickly and bustled with diners. This was much different from the United States where restaurants typically close on Thanksgiving because it is a time for families to gather in their homes for Thanksgiving feasts. Jane and I enjoyed our evening together with Malbec wine, a fresh assortment of bread and rolls, and a main course of roasted meat. I ordered pork tenderloin having already eaten a bife de chorizo for lunch. For dessert Jane ordered and enjoyed a mint flavored cake.

After dinner we returned to our hotel and crashed and burned. We could finally sleep with the aid of a soft bed and pillow and we were pleased to take advantage of our comfortable room.

 

 

 

Argentina Day 1 11/27/2013 Photo Album

Eighteen months. That’s how long Jane and I waited for our much anticipated trip to Argentina, and now the day arrived. Recall that Jane experienced a hit and run bicycling accident while commuting on October 26, 2012 and the resultant pelvic fracture caused us to postpone the trip for a year. We left our payment with Rio Manso Lodge in exchange for locking in the rate for December 2-8, 2013. And now it was November 27, the day before Thanksgiving, and we were about to board an American Airlines flight to Buenos Aires. Two and a half days later we would fly to Bariloche and then on Monday, December 2 we would be picked up by Rio Monso Lodge and transported to the pristine lakes and rivers of Patagonia.

South America, the Andes Mountains, and Patagonia were places I studied in sixth grade social studies. Could we possibly be going there? I asked Jane to pinch me to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Adding more to the allure was the prospect of late spring weather, warm temperatures, and extended hours of daylight while our friends in North American rushed toward winter. What about the food and wine which are reputedly the reason many travel to Argentina? And how about the fishing? The Rio Manso web site was blanketed with photos of grinning anglers holding oversized brook, brown and rainbow trout. Could all of this be real?

Since it was the day before Thanksgiving, the busiest travel day of the year, Jane suggested that we arrive at the airport four hours early, and that is exactly what we did. This wasn’t your common over the river and through the woods to Grandma’s house Thanksgiving. This was special. According to plan we arrived at DIA four hours early and began the check in process at the American Airlines kiosk. An AA employee approached us and helped us scan our passports and then asked for our reciprocity forms.

Before I continue, a word on Argentina reciprocity forms. Apparently the United States, Canada, and Australia charge some sort of fee to visitors from Argentina so they implemented a similar charge that applies only to travelers from the U.S., Canada and Australia. Jane and I purchased ours in October 2012 when we expected to be making the trip prior to Jane’s injury. Prior to the 2013 trip I searched through my Gmail folders and found the confirming email I received back from Provincia and printed it and sent it to Taylor Edrington to confirm that it was necessary document to enter the country. Taylor replied that it was, and we gave no futher thought to the matter.

Unfortunately when we presented this document to the check in agent, he informed us that we needed a form with a bar code that could be scanned. We protested and showed our proof of payment, but to no avail. Finally one of the agents suggested that we go downstairs to the workforce office and ask for help in the form of a computer to log on and print the necessary document. We quickly retreated with all our heavy luggage and found the suggested workforce office and made the acquaintance of Carl Jardine, a helpful employee and an angel dressed in casual business attire.

Carl patiently opened his browser and found the Provincia web site and helped me log in, but life is never very easy. After many attempts, we discovered there was no reprint button on the web site under my log in, and with minutes flying off the clock we quickly decided to abandon printing what we’d already paid for, and initiated a new tactic of repurchasing reciprocity forms. We clicked on the button for a new registration and then filled in the required fields; name, passport number and birthday. The screen paused and the cursor spun and we waited and finally it informed us that we couldn’t register and pay because the person registering was already in the system and had already purchased a reciprocity ticket. Jane and I were caught in the ultimate catch-22. We couldn’t reprint and we couldn’t buy a new one because the data base said we had already purchased.

We quickly enlisted the help of Taylor Edrington and the folks at Rio Manso Lodge. We decided that we needed to call the Provincia number in Argentina listed on the web site, but neither of us had thought ahead and purchased international calling for our phones. Perhaps we could call using a pay phone? Jane and I charged from the office and found the closest pay phone, but this morphed into another deadend since the pay phone only accepted pre-paid calling cards. We were now approaching panic mode and I couldn’t even begin to think of what our plight might be if we could not board our scheduled American Airlines flight.

Jane decided to return to the AA check in counter and plead our case using the document that stated that we’d already registered and paid. I meanwhile decided to call Verizon to see if I could add international calling to our account. I dialed *611 and waded through numerous hierarchical menus until I finally connected with a live human being. She told me she could indeed add international calling to our plan, but first needed our password. The account is under Jane and I made a couple futile attempts to guess the password, but both were rejected. Next she asked for the last four digits of Jane’s social security number, but I couldn’t recall that as well in spite of typing it every year on the tax returns. I was forced to hang up and find Jane.

Jane meanwhile was getting nowhere with the American Airlines agents who were under strict orders to accept nothing besides the bar coded form. I handed the mobile phone to Jane and asked her to talk to the Verizon customer service person and eventually she was able to purchase international calling and added it to her phone. I now had the wherewithal to communicate with Provincia so I immediately dialed the Argentina number after struggling with international calling codes a few times. A man with broken English answered from Buenos Aires and after a disjointed conversation he advised me to purchase new reciprocity tickets. I countered that I’d tried to do that, but that I was blocked because I was already in the system as having purchased them (the irony of this never seemed to dawn on him).

Finally after much back and forth repetition, the Provincia agent suggested that I change my birthday by one day, and by doing this I could circumvent the system matching my previous registration. I was concerned that this would lead to some other complication at customs and passport control, but he assured me it would not and offered the excuse that I made a typographic error! I rushed back to Carl’s office armed with the suggested workaround and we repeated the registration process, entered our credit card information, and eventually printed two reciprocity forms with bar codes on them. These pieces of paper were like gold and I clutched them tightly as I rushed up the stairs to join Jane who continued to argue with the check in agents.

I waved the forms in front of him and he grinned and scanned them and issued our boarding passes. Whew! We passed through security and arrived at the gate in time for the final boarding call. Four hours later and shaking and perspiring from the intense stress of our predicament, we were comfortably seated on an American Airlines flight to Dallas. The rest of the day passed without incident as we boarded our flight to Buenos Aires and attempted to sleep in a cramped upright position before arriving in Buenos Aires on Thanksgiving.

How much adversity could one trip provide? Much more we would eventually discover.