We survived an epic 22 hour bus journey down south from Iguazu to Buenos Aires. We went from Argentina to Argentina via Paraguay for no discernible reason other than to pick up a team of cleaning ladies clad in garish pink. ¿Qué pasa?
Unsurprisingly after our Herculean bus journey we were feeling as right as rain....acid rain. After swiftly succumbing to the allure of the taxi rank we were treated to a hair-raising ride along the widest road in the world, Avenida 9 de Julio, a total of 18 lanes. The purpose of the lanes was unclear as the Argentinian drivers disregard every single road law under the sun. Buenos Aires appears to be a haven for all those who fail their driving theory (you know who you are).
We headed out for a taste-bud-busting supper of steak stuffed with mozzarella, peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes and ham and a gargantuan portion of chips. This meal conquers the rainbow chicken we ate in Rio (see 'Rio de Janeiro' entry). We were taken to this restaurant by our Australian roommates Martyn and Taylor. We have asked permission to use their names in this blog as they were two larger than life characters that we could not fail to mention. They were two of the most interesting and amusing roommates we have met on our travels. There was not a moment of boredom while we were around them, their humour was truly shocking yet hysterical at the same time. We wish them luck for their travels (and spending the rest of their lives together...happily ever after)
After our dinner out with the Australians we went out on a pub-club crawl laid on by our hostel. We were taken to some bars with the most amazing settings and views out over the city. Unfortunately, as mentioned in the Cordoba entries, night life in Argentina doesn't start until about 2:30 in the morning so the first few bars we went to were a little quiet. Towards the end of the evening things definitely spiced up and we ended up having a great night.
A sound that we will never forget from our time in Buenos Aires is the phrase "cambiocambiocambiocambio... me pay sooooooo good!" (eng. trans. "My dear travellers, would you care to exchange a spot of money, whether that be in US Dollars, Brazilian Reals or European Euros.") shouted by men standing along the street. This is the infamous black currency market. Some people may be aware that Argentina suffers from terrible inflation (around 25% p.a.), which means that often banks are offering exchange rates worse than the real rate. It is impossible to walk 5 metres without being approached by a dodgy looking man trying to entice you in with his tasty rates.
We have adapted very well to the Argentinian way of life, lying in until 11am and staying up until the early hours of the morning. So, after an equally late wake up we made our way to the Plaza de Mayo in the centre of BA to witness something truly astounding. While Ben was in Cordoba he mentioned in the blog about the Dirty War between 1976-1983. During these years many women, while imprisoned in clandestine detention centres, gave birth to children who were then taken away and given to families in the military. Every Thursday at 15:30 Las Madres de La Plaza de Mayo (more commonly known in English as 'The Mothers of the Disappeared') hold a march in the Plaza calling for the government to help locate the missing/stolen children (now aged 30+). In total the Madres have already located 256 missing children. It was quite something to witness extremely frail women so passionate in their march.
Las Madres de La Plaza de Mayo
A white headscarf, symbolic of Las Madres and their struggle.
Another aspect of the Plaza de Mayo which was astounding to us is just how raw the issue of the Falklands War is in Argentina. There is a constant encampment of veterans in the Plaza, not officially recognised as veterans and therefore receiving no governmental support or pension. We also could not help but notice that every single map we have seen in Argentina has the Falklands labelled as Las Malvinas (ARG). Not only is this wrong, it is also extremely petty. Forgive and forget?
It was definitely wise to keep very quiet about The Falklands while we were in Buenos Aires. We decided, in order to gain a fuller picture of Argentina's history we would visit the Museo del Bicentenario located right next to the Plaza. Ever since the early 19th Century Argentina has been a country torn by war and military dictatorships. It is no surprise that there are some deep rooted problems in Argentina.
Timeline mural of the Falklands War.
El Cementerio de la Recoleta was the next target on our hit-list. The guidebook describes a tomb here as some of the hottest real estate on the market. It is clear why. Gravestones are not present here, instead there are huge tombs, some standing at least 20 feet tall, and memorials containing the bodies of the rich and famous families of Argentina. The main attraction of this cemetery is that Eva Peron is buried here with her family the Duartes. Known affectionately as "Evita", this former First Lady of Argentina could be compared to Lady Di. As you can imagine it is quite a popular tomb to go to so it was very difficult to get a proper look. As it is a cemetery it still has the imperative creepy feel about it, yet it was like no graveyard we have been in before. Think Dan Brown's "Angels and Demons" meets Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein". A truly mesmerising mausoleum. We inquired whether our travel insurance would, in the event of our death or dismemberment, secure us a tomb. The answer was a resounding 'hey grrringo, no'.
That evening we met up with a mutual friend. He was extremely friendly and spoke outstanding English. He took us to Puerto Madero, a picturesque part of town next to the sea. He also took us to have a look at the Puente de la Mujer. This bridge is meant to look like a female tango dancer. We are yet to be convinced. The picture is below so if you work it out please let us know.
Our contact also took us out to this fantastic Palacio de la Pizza near our hostel. He was a great guide and it was amusing to hear the opinion of someone our own age about Buenos Aires. We really appreciated gaining a local's insight on Buenos Aires, especially on the integrity of the police where he expressed that he'd "rather trust the drug-dealers than the BA police... they don't do good things". He was not overly complimentary and highlighted a lot of problems with crime in the city.
The last thing we needed to tick off from our guidebook was to see La Boca and to watch some tango. On Saturday we headed off to El Caminito in La Boca to the weekend market. La Boca used to be the main port of Buenos Aires until it was replaced by a more modern port. Since then La Boca has become quite a hot-spot for crime, especially due to the presence of the Boca Juniors football team. Just before getting out of the taxi, the driver growled "Cuidado" ("Be careful") and sped off, leaving us to fend for ourselves. Undeterred, (bravely or foolishly?) we carried on. What an awesome atmosphere and feel - a smorgasbord of multicoloured buildings and fascinating market stalls selling all sorts of weird and wonderful things immediately caught our attention.
Our attempt at Tango
After a visit to the Boca Juniors football stadium we sat at a cafe for 45 minutes and enjoyed a mixture of tango and gaucho dancing. We definitely need to learn how to dance properly when we get back to England. Coming to Argentina has demonstrated just how poor the British are at dancing.
Our last evening was passed very enjoyably with another mutual contact we had in Buenos Aires. Our friend very generously took us out for some typical Argentinian food, an array of meats, pies and empanadas. She was extremely patient answering all our questions on the recent history of Argentina. We now have a pretty extensive knowledge of Argentina through the 20th Century. After returning to our hostel with our stomachs filled to the brim we settled down for our first night on our trip without a bedroom. We set up camp in the reception area and slept on sofas until 5am so we could head to the airport to catch our flight down to El Calafate to see the Perito Moreno Glacier. We have not been keen on catching internal flights within South America, but the prospect of a 45 hour coach journey did not appeal to our weary limbs.
Next instalment will be up in a couple days about our time in El Calafate and Bariloche.
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