Sucre was once the capital of Bolivia and is still a little resentful that its had the title taken away from it, its still the judicial capital but that doesnt have the same ring to it. Colonised by both the Spanish and the French it has some great architecture going on with Colonial buildings, a large plaza in the center of town and some pretty damn good and cheap restuarants, nice - I liike!
But at the same time the Mavrix have discovered that no city keeps our attention for long and the same was true for Sucre, our mission here was purely one of errand running. Our days would consist of trying pitching up time and again at the Bolivian consulate until it was magically open for no apparent reason, buying sleeping bags and walking whimsically through the plaza and surrounds trying to look cultured (we failed but you guessed that already).
There was also one of South Americas beloved protests the one day leading to the whole city basically having a day off as no public or private transport was functoning, stores were closed and roads blocked by trucks, rocks and sheep, not the best for Birthday shopping. The Vix was soon to have her big B-day and the M was in a tiny tizz looking for something first world in South Americas most third world country on a day when everything was closed....hmmm... no me fuking Gust!.
Thats about it for Sucre, pretty, sweet and short like a Chomp!
Friday, 27 June 2008
Monday, 23 June 2008
Potosi
We had been stuck in Uyuni for a few days seeing out the last of the Vixens bacteria belly and were keen to get the hell out of Dodgeville.
We got on the 9h30 bus to Potosi, a mere 7 hour journey, a mere pitance compared to the 20-30 hour Argentinian bus rides we had taken... or so we thought. The buses to say the very least are not of the same standard in Bolivia as they are in Argentina. We started by having to hurl our luggage up onto the roof of a bus that looked like someone had pasted 4 or 5 Mini bus taxis together, we had the only normal looking backpacks with everything else being flung up there either being in a large grain sack or wrapped in a blanket. The rest of the luggage consisted of chairs, old TVs, large plastic bags of unidentifiables food stuffs, kitchen ware and a couple kitchen sinks for luck. Most of the goods belonged to 2 Bolivian dwarf women (ok they are all dwarfs compared to us) who kept thowing more and more stuff up onto the roof. Even the locals started complaining that there was too much stuff on the roof but the bus drivers just shrugged and said this was how they did it in Bolivian (code for - deal with it Gringo!). Finally we got onto the bus clutching our still uninspected tickets to our Gringo selves. It was at this point that we realised that they didnt just overload the roof but the interior as well, more and more people kept getting on the bus, sitting in eisles (mostly ontop of more stuff the 2 Bolivian dwarf trolls had brought on board) and all around us. There was a heavy smell of Coca leaves in the air as all the locals enthusoiastically chewed but didnt ever swallow the leaf. The Vix was having a hard time getting into the swing of things, mainly because of the smell of things and the mood was cramped and guarded. We felt optimistiuc however, we were sure to get used to this and after all ....how bad could it really be? Really bad! After 2 hours on dirt and dust roads with monkey like hands of rural pensioners (if you still get a pension after you turn 100) clutching our headrests a little boy of 3 decided to vomit into a bag just next to him. The Vix felt like she wasnt far behind the 3 year old but managed to swallow her pride and a lot more. Finally after winding mountain roads, lungs filled with Coca and dust and the odd elbow from a disgruntled eisle sitter we arrived in Potosi.
There is actually an interesting story behind Potosi, it was once the worlds richest city, richer than London, Paris and Rome put together. Potosi was the engine that fired the Spanishes conquest and kept their coffers full with the worlds biggest Silver Mine in the Cerro Ricco (literal translation The Rich Hill). But with over 460 years of mining the Cerro Ricco stopped spitting out Silver and most of the wealth left the city. That is not to say that the mountain doesnt still hold minerals, it is still mined today for Tin, Sodium, Zinc and others. The sad tale of the Cerro Ricco is that the Spanish used Indigenous slaves to mine it, with 20 hours of hard labour in harsh conditions and only 4 hours sleep, many miners never coming up for air for years and dying young in the mines. Eventually the Inca slaves stopped working in protest of the harsh conditions. But the Spanish knew that the Indigenous people worshipped all sorts of gods and so they created an Idol for them and called it Dio - God in Spanish, however the Incas could not pronounce the letter D, there was no equivalent in their alphabet and so they called it Tio. Over 400 years later the miners of the Cerro Ricco still worship Tio, the idol in the guise of a Devil who rules the mines. They believe that outside the mine, God rules but inside the mine, Tio rules and if you dont give him offerings and worship him then he will dry up the minerals in the mountain and make you have an accident. The Spanishs influence is therefore still felt hundreds of years later and the indigenous peoples are still a slave to the mountain, many of them kids as young as 10 years old supporting whole families with their labour but without much future of their own as not many miners survive past their 30th year.
Great story dont you think? With such a great intro we had to go take a look ourselves and say Howzit to Tio. A tour to the mines starts in the miners market where you buy gifts for the miners, Coca leaves, cool drinks, 95% proof alchohol and Dynamite (just R10 for a stick). After a pretty cool Dynamite show we ducked into the mines and spent a few hours seeing the conditions they work in, meeting some of the hard men and having a drink with Tio. The tour was good, it helped solidify the history infront of our eyes but it was sad to see none the less.
Since that is all Potosi really has to offer we jumped on a bus the next day and crossed fingers that there was no road block on the way to Sucre.
We got on the 9h30 bus to Potosi, a mere 7 hour journey, a mere pitance compared to the 20-30 hour Argentinian bus rides we had taken... or so we thought. The buses to say the very least are not of the same standard in Bolivia as they are in Argentina. We started by having to hurl our luggage up onto the roof of a bus that looked like someone had pasted 4 or 5 Mini bus taxis together, we had the only normal looking backpacks with everything else being flung up there either being in a large grain sack or wrapped in a blanket. The rest of the luggage consisted of chairs, old TVs, large plastic bags of unidentifiables food stuffs, kitchen ware and a couple kitchen sinks for luck. Most of the goods belonged to 2 Bolivian dwarf women (ok they are all dwarfs compared to us) who kept thowing more and more stuff up onto the roof. Even the locals started complaining that there was too much stuff on the roof but the bus drivers just shrugged and said this was how they did it in Bolivian (code for - deal with it Gringo!). Finally we got onto the bus clutching our still uninspected tickets to our Gringo selves. It was at this point that we realised that they didnt just overload the roof but the interior as well, more and more people kept getting on the bus, sitting in eisles (mostly ontop of more stuff the 2 Bolivian dwarf trolls had brought on board) and all around us. There was a heavy smell of Coca leaves in the air as all the locals enthusoiastically chewed but didnt ever swallow the leaf. The Vix was having a hard time getting into the swing of things, mainly because of the smell of things and the mood was cramped and guarded. We felt optimistiuc however, we were sure to get used to this and after all ....how bad could it really be? Really bad! After 2 hours on dirt and dust roads with monkey like hands of rural pensioners (if you still get a pension after you turn 100) clutching our headrests a little boy of 3 decided to vomit into a bag just next to him. The Vix felt like she wasnt far behind the 3 year old but managed to swallow her pride and a lot more. Finally after winding mountain roads, lungs filled with Coca and dust and the odd elbow from a disgruntled eisle sitter we arrived in Potosi.
There is actually an interesting story behind Potosi, it was once the worlds richest city, richer than London, Paris and Rome put together. Potosi was the engine that fired the Spanishes conquest and kept their coffers full with the worlds biggest Silver Mine in the Cerro Ricco (literal translation The Rich Hill). But with over 460 years of mining the Cerro Ricco stopped spitting out Silver and most of the wealth left the city. That is not to say that the mountain doesnt still hold minerals, it is still mined today for Tin, Sodium, Zinc and others. The sad tale of the Cerro Ricco is that the Spanish used Indigenous slaves to mine it, with 20 hours of hard labour in harsh conditions and only 4 hours sleep, many miners never coming up for air for years and dying young in the mines. Eventually the Inca slaves stopped working in protest of the harsh conditions. But the Spanish knew that the Indigenous people worshipped all sorts of gods and so they created an Idol for them and called it Dio - God in Spanish, however the Incas could not pronounce the letter D, there was no equivalent in their alphabet and so they called it Tio. Over 400 years later the miners of the Cerro Ricco still worship Tio, the idol in the guise of a Devil who rules the mines. They believe that outside the mine, God rules but inside the mine, Tio rules and if you dont give him offerings and worship him then he will dry up the minerals in the mountain and make you have an accident. The Spanishs influence is therefore still felt hundreds of years later and the indigenous peoples are still a slave to the mountain, many of them kids as young as 10 years old supporting whole families with their labour but without much future of their own as not many miners survive past their 30th year.
Great story dont you think? With such a great intro we had to go take a look ourselves and say Howzit to Tio. A tour to the mines starts in the miners market where you buy gifts for the miners, Coca leaves, cool drinks, 95% proof alchohol and Dynamite (just R10 for a stick). After a pretty cool Dynamite show we ducked into the mines and spent a few hours seeing the conditions they work in, meeting some of the hard men and having a drink with Tio. The tour was good, it helped solidify the history infront of our eyes but it was sad to see none the less.
Since that is all Potosi really has to offer we jumped on a bus the next day and crossed fingers that there was no road block on the way to Sucre.
Wednesday, 18 June 2008
Salt Flats - 19 May - 24 May
We arrived in Tupiza ¨fresh¨ from an overnight bus ride into Bolivia and then 2 hours more once we had crossed the border. To say that we experienced some culture shock would be a gross understatement! The women are all straight out of the funny pages, not so much women as caracatures, dressed in oversized multi layered petti coats, bowlers hats ballanced at the very points of their heads, twin plaits hanging loosely over their shoulders and more wrinkles than a Sharpei puppy. The roads are cluttered with street stalls selling unidentifiable fried meats, ready made juices waiting all day in the sun just for you and every kind of llama wool jersey, sock, frock, beanie, bag or rag you can think of. In short this was more like the South America we thought we would be walking into, Argentina was quite European and civilised in many ways compared to this, more Spanish than Indigeonous. Bolivia was the real deal and cheap at the price!
With an ok nights sleep and some provisions bought we stepped into the Land cruiser that would become our home for the next 4 days as we explored the legendary Salt Flats of Uyuni and all that surrounded it. If you are looking for surreal landscapes then you come here to get spoilt! In our first three days we saw Vivid Green and Red lakes transformed into these colours by the Sodium, Sulphur and Uranium that line their bottoms. Pink Flamigos that skim the surface to get a better look at their own reflection, bubbling geysers at a breath taking (literally) 4980m above sea level, more volcanoes peaking over 6000m than anywhere on the planet, rock and bolder mazes, Dali inspired landscapes and more llamas than people in Bolivia. Ever corner seemed to hold a new sight, experience or contrast to what we had seen before. A photographers dream and a Agrophobe´s nightmare! But we were saving the best for last, the trippy crazy landscape of the worlds biggest Salt Flats was to be saved and savored on the last day of our trip, a day that started with a sunrise watched from an ancient coral island populated by cactus. You see the only way to get a giant salt flat is to plant an ocean there first then drain it fully over a few thousand years before ¨ding¨ its ready! This means you get left with a bunch of coral islands scattered here and there testifying to the once oceandom of the region and also an unnerving, bewildering flatness that goes on much further than the eye can see. Really cool! Unfortunately the Vix had been feeling horrible for the last day or so, a mixture of altitude, food poisoning and 8 hours a day stuck in a bumpy car, but she´s a trooper and was determined to get in on the Salt Flats action later. After a simple breakfast we a short drive to make sure there was nothing to see but whiteness and a the sun in the sky, we all started playing games with the lack of perspective achieved on the Salt Flats, jumping flying, playing giant or midget it was all good fun. This is a game that can take all day and is hard to get bored of unless you are the driver of a Land Cruiser that still has to get home to the wife and kids, so after a few hours of play and a lot of hooting we got into the Land Cruiser and headed for Uyuni, a little town right out of Mad Max only with Bolivians instead of Australians.
We would say goodbye here to Hari Har the German, Eimer the Irish and the MexiCAN brothers we had met along the way. Uyuni would be home for a few days much to our dismay as we waited for the Vixen the get her tummy right, something only antibiotics would eventually cure. However the Salt Flats were a definite highlight and something we will talk about for a long time to come!
With an ok nights sleep and some provisions bought we stepped into the Land cruiser that would become our home for the next 4 days as we explored the legendary Salt Flats of Uyuni and all that surrounded it. If you are looking for surreal landscapes then you come here to get spoilt! In our first three days we saw Vivid Green and Red lakes transformed into these colours by the Sodium, Sulphur and Uranium that line their bottoms. Pink Flamigos that skim the surface to get a better look at their own reflection, bubbling geysers at a breath taking (literally) 4980m above sea level, more volcanoes peaking over 6000m than anywhere on the planet, rock and bolder mazes, Dali inspired landscapes and more llamas than people in Bolivia. Ever corner seemed to hold a new sight, experience or contrast to what we had seen before. A photographers dream and a Agrophobe´s nightmare! But we were saving the best for last, the trippy crazy landscape of the worlds biggest Salt Flats was to be saved and savored on the last day of our trip, a day that started with a sunrise watched from an ancient coral island populated by cactus. You see the only way to get a giant salt flat is to plant an ocean there first then drain it fully over a few thousand years before ¨ding¨ its ready! This means you get left with a bunch of coral islands scattered here and there testifying to the once oceandom of the region and also an unnerving, bewildering flatness that goes on much further than the eye can see. Really cool! Unfortunately the Vix had been feeling horrible for the last day or so, a mixture of altitude, food poisoning and 8 hours a day stuck in a bumpy car, but she´s a trooper and was determined to get in on the Salt Flats action later. After a simple breakfast we a short drive to make sure there was nothing to see but whiteness and a the sun in the sky, we all started playing games with the lack of perspective achieved on the Salt Flats, jumping flying, playing giant or midget it was all good fun. This is a game that can take all day and is hard to get bored of unless you are the driver of a Land Cruiser that still has to get home to the wife and kids, so after a few hours of play and a lot of hooting we got into the Land Cruiser and headed for Uyuni, a little town right out of Mad Max only with Bolivians instead of Australians.
We would say goodbye here to Hari Har the German, Eimer the Irish and the MexiCAN brothers we had met along the way. Uyuni would be home for a few days much to our dismay as we waited for the Vixen the get her tummy right, something only antibiotics would eventually cure. However the Salt Flats were a definite highlight and something we will talk about for a long time to come!
Saturday, 24 May 2008
Salta 14 - 18 May
So there we were in Puerto Iguazu on the border of Argentina and Brazil, we desperately wanted to get to Bolivia as soon as possible but everyone kept telling us that Salta - Argentina was not to be missed! The Mavrix are not in the habit of listening when spoken to so it took quite a bit of convincing (our Moms will know this), especially since it meant going all the way back across Argentina. But we cleared the wax out of our ears, packed our ear plugs into our ever growing bags and got ready for a 23 hour bus ride cross country to Salta, and soon came to experience and relise that Salta is a place unlike no other in all of Argentina. Back to the bus journey into Salta.. 23 hours sounds pretty bad... how about adding 6 hours because some farmers are protesting and have blocked the only road out of town! Sheesh and you thought Load Shedding traffic was bad.... we didnt move a step in 6 hours and the driver refused to serve dinner till the next town, this meant eating our already reheated schnitzel, which landed on our laps wrapped in the cheapest plastic money can buy at 4am... and we all know that the only thing that tastes good at that time of the morning is Bimbos burgers or their breakfast in Pita!
We arrived in Salta mid afternoon and after doing the mandatory check in and bag drop we took a walk to explore the city. Using the trusted Gringos travelers coincidence rader system it was only a matter of 10 minutes into our walk before we ran into a German friend of ours Hari Har - quick one - Hari Har nicknamed Harry, was born in India but is a German through and through, he looks like he was once the kid on the KinderJoy chocolate pack with a curly blonde afro and blue eyes, holds powers of exceptional reasoning and despite being quite a funny guy himself just cant get our jokes all the time ¨it iz jist not logikal¨.- Hari was with a Red headed, blue eyed Irish girl on his arm like Long John Silver and his squaking parrot. Hari like his forefathers before him had conquered the Irish and was in full colonisation mode. Eimer was her name (yeah we struggle to pronounce it as well) and being typically Irish was her game. She has a mouth like a truck driver and stories that dont sound all together Catholic! So then there were four!
We used the rest of the afternoon to look at the Niños de la Montañas. These 3 kids were found at the top of the Andean mountain peaks frozen to death after being sacridiced to the God of the mountain. They now lay in the Mummy museum in a state of perfect conservation, thats what below zero temperatures will do to you! Unfortunately the museum sucked and we only got to see one little Niño (guess it was passed the others bedtime) that had been cracked on the head by lightening. Still, seeing The little child of lighting´s ancient teeth peaking out from her mouth, her curled fingers and eyelashes all perfectly preserved after 500 years was pretty cool.
But she wasn´t the real reason that we or anyone else really comes to Salta, everyone comes to Salta to drive out of Salta because it is a region of great beauty in the non traditional sense, one that needs days to explore from the comfort of a luxury german made sedan. Unfortunately all the luxury german sedans were rented out that day (read as ridiculously expensive) so the fantastic four hired the towns best bargin - a red Fiat Uno with more scratches and bumps that we could count ( avery useful trait when returning the car for inspection, "No Sir that scratch was there before... I swear it was"). The surrounding area is just brilliant, spectacular and almost uncapturable on camera as we soon discoved. The landscape goes from city, the beautiful green farmland to multicoloured bare rock mountains (reds and purples and greens OH MY!), full on rainbows of earth and rock creeping out of the ground! Also the shapes are crazy as mother earth was turning in her bed alot in this region and therefore all the formations look like many books piled ontop of each other and then pushed up creating jagged edges and definite changes in colours and line. Wow. Me Gusta!
But before we could head out on our road trip the FF´s had some celebrating to do Irish style, that means lots of wine and food (no Guiness in Salta) and much singing and story telling. It was Eimer´s birthday and we used the opportunity to sample the local cuisine and do as much of the above as possible...we did well. So well in fact that the waiter asked us about 5 times if we needed the bill before we caved in and headed back home by taxi. Our sore heads the next morning would soon eroded as the beauty of the landscape greeted us.
The Mavrix dont think that words or pictures can do the scenery the justice it deserves!!! The mountains you drive through would embaress a rainbow with the diversity of colours. They continually change colours with large slabs of reds, blues, yellows and purples being common and pinks, greens and pure whites jumping out at you around every corner. It was amazing to see how over millions and decades of years the earth has pushed her plates together so hard in this region that there are literally thousands of mountains around, and to to this crazy rock fomations have been formed making a clear distinction between each colour and creating a gobstopper effect. The Mavrix took over 300 photos in the space of 2 days on that road trip (I think I´m turning Japanese, I think I´m turning Japanese, I really think sooo) did we mention that none of the photos did the place any justice, only a trip there will truly bring understanding. We are so glad we washed the wax out our ears and went
Some of the highlights included the Ampitheatre - a deep hole in the mountain with its own in house band, some land art in the form of a multidirectional mirror in the middle of nowhere, the funny cactus pics we took, the local people - gauchos living off the land and the all round barren yet beautiful scenery. Basically we saw cool stuff and smiled a lot.
We had however miscalculated the time needed to do the trip (I guess its longer when you are Japanese) and had to wake up at an unreasonable hour to return the Uno in time to the rental guys. Negotiating mountain passes at 4 in the morning from an extrem altitude of 3500m is a chilling experience and quite cold too! We managed however to return the car in time and even managed to avert the rental guys eyes from the broken seatbelt in the back seat. Score!
The rest of the day involved washing dirty socks (seems as though we have a constant flow of incoming dirty socks) and downloading the photos from the trip (2 CD´s worth Japanese style). We would say goodbye (Konitchiwa) to Salta and Argentina this evening as we walked to the bus station with 8 other Gringos (a Gaggle of Gringos?) to boarder our final luxury bus to the land of runny tummies, crazy bus drivers, high altitudes and amazing adventures .... Next time Bolivia!
We arrived in Salta mid afternoon and after doing the mandatory check in and bag drop we took a walk to explore the city. Using the trusted Gringos travelers coincidence rader system it was only a matter of 10 minutes into our walk before we ran into a German friend of ours Hari Har - quick one - Hari Har nicknamed Harry, was born in India but is a German through and through, he looks like he was once the kid on the KinderJoy chocolate pack with a curly blonde afro and blue eyes, holds powers of exceptional reasoning and despite being quite a funny guy himself just cant get our jokes all the time ¨it iz jist not logikal¨.- Hari was with a Red headed, blue eyed Irish girl on his arm like Long John Silver and his squaking parrot. Hari like his forefathers before him had conquered the Irish and was in full colonisation mode. Eimer was her name (yeah we struggle to pronounce it as well) and being typically Irish was her game. She has a mouth like a truck driver and stories that dont sound all together Catholic! So then there were four!
We used the rest of the afternoon to look at the Niños de la Montañas. These 3 kids were found at the top of the Andean mountain peaks frozen to death after being sacridiced to the God of the mountain. They now lay in the Mummy museum in a state of perfect conservation, thats what below zero temperatures will do to you! Unfortunately the museum sucked and we only got to see one little Niño (guess it was passed the others bedtime) that had been cracked on the head by lightening. Still, seeing The little child of lighting´s ancient teeth peaking out from her mouth, her curled fingers and eyelashes all perfectly preserved after 500 years was pretty cool.
But she wasn´t the real reason that we or anyone else really comes to Salta, everyone comes to Salta to drive out of Salta because it is a region of great beauty in the non traditional sense, one that needs days to explore from the comfort of a luxury german made sedan. Unfortunately all the luxury german sedans were rented out that day (read as ridiculously expensive) so the fantastic four hired the towns best bargin - a red Fiat Uno with more scratches and bumps that we could count ( avery useful trait when returning the car for inspection, "No Sir that scratch was there before... I swear it was"). The surrounding area is just brilliant, spectacular and almost uncapturable on camera as we soon discoved. The landscape goes from city, the beautiful green farmland to multicoloured bare rock mountains (reds and purples and greens OH MY!), full on rainbows of earth and rock creeping out of the ground! Also the shapes are crazy as mother earth was turning in her bed alot in this region and therefore all the formations look like many books piled ontop of each other and then pushed up creating jagged edges and definite changes in colours and line. Wow. Me Gusta!
But before we could head out on our road trip the FF´s had some celebrating to do Irish style, that means lots of wine and food (no Guiness in Salta) and much singing and story telling. It was Eimer´s birthday and we used the opportunity to sample the local cuisine and do as much of the above as possible...we did well. So well in fact that the waiter asked us about 5 times if we needed the bill before we caved in and headed back home by taxi. Our sore heads the next morning would soon eroded as the beauty of the landscape greeted us.
The Mavrix dont think that words or pictures can do the scenery the justice it deserves!!! The mountains you drive through would embaress a rainbow with the diversity of colours. They continually change colours with large slabs of reds, blues, yellows and purples being common and pinks, greens and pure whites jumping out at you around every corner. It was amazing to see how over millions and decades of years the earth has pushed her plates together so hard in this region that there are literally thousands of mountains around, and to to this crazy rock fomations have been formed making a clear distinction between each colour and creating a gobstopper effect. The Mavrix took over 300 photos in the space of 2 days on that road trip (I think I´m turning Japanese, I think I´m turning Japanese, I really think sooo) did we mention that none of the photos did the place any justice, only a trip there will truly bring understanding. We are so glad we washed the wax out our ears and went
Some of the highlights included the Ampitheatre - a deep hole in the mountain with its own in house band, some land art in the form of a multidirectional mirror in the middle of nowhere, the funny cactus pics we took, the local people - gauchos living off the land and the all round barren yet beautiful scenery. Basically we saw cool stuff and smiled a lot.
We had however miscalculated the time needed to do the trip (I guess its longer when you are Japanese) and had to wake up at an unreasonable hour to return the Uno in time to the rental guys. Negotiating mountain passes at 4 in the morning from an extrem altitude of 3500m is a chilling experience and quite cold too! We managed however to return the car in time and even managed to avert the rental guys eyes from the broken seatbelt in the back seat. Score!
The rest of the day involved washing dirty socks (seems as though we have a constant flow of incoming dirty socks) and downloading the photos from the trip (2 CD´s worth Japanese style). We would say goodbye (Konitchiwa) to Salta and Argentina this evening as we walked to the bus station with 8 other Gringos (a Gaggle of Gringos?) to boarder our final luxury bus to the land of runny tummies, crazy bus drivers, high altitudes and amazing adventures .... Next time Bolivia!
Sunday, 18 May 2008
Iguazu Falls - 9 May 12 May
Thanks to The Froopers, The Mavrix were about to enjoy their first FULL CAMA bus experience journeying to the Great Iguazu Falls. In case you haven´t heard, Argentina has some of the best buses in the world, they range from very basic to basically first class. There have extra wide seats that recline ALL the way down, foot rests, in bus movies (if you´re lucky they´re in English), hot dinners and chilled champagne, all this somehow makes the 20 hour bus journey feel like a mere 18 ... but seriously the booze did help us snooze, and in almost no time and one really bad Jean Claude Van Damme movie that was unfortunately in English, we were in the town of Puerto Iguazu.
We immediately loved Puerto Iguazu, mostly because the sun had rolled out a golden carpet to meet us and the Mavrix were able to tan their pasty white skins next to the hostels giant pool (ex casinos rock!). After some tricky footwork and social fact finding we found the best (read cheapest) way to do the falls and see stuff the next day, and thus with a spring in our step and last nights big buffet dinner powering us on we (Mavrix with Froopers in tow, or was it the other way round?) caught a taxi to the waterfalls. On this day we would see one of Mother Natures master pieces, see local wildlife and learn that Cooper sings about everything, all the time, same tune ...different words...
Now you must understand, the falls are a full day experience, a ¨quick¨tour just isnt possible, they are too wide too high and too mighty to let you get away with that! While not as high as Vic Falls they are much much wider and just as mighty with the ability to inspire the kind of awe that would make even the most devout Mormon pick up a camera and take a few happy snaps for his 7 wives back home. So after splintering our jaws on the floor for a few hours looking at the falls from the many walk ways and look outs, we jumped on a boat and donned our mandatory life jackets. The boat takes you on a nice little tour of all the many sections of the falls allowing for pictures from many a vantage points until, quite unexpectantly, it goes right INTO the falls and drenches you from head to toe and down below. Thus after a couple times into the Devils Throat and other torrents of water, M was thoroughly wet and a little deaf from V´s screams of delight and de-fright but it was all good, we were having the time of our lives!!
Next we jumped onto another boat driven by an Argentinian who had eaten a few too many pies and therefore didnt need a floatation device to a little beach overlooked by part of the waterfall. We´d spend the next hour there sunning ourselves and pouring water out of our shoes thereby freeing the fishes and letting the tide back in. After what felt like far too short in this paradise beach we climbed back out and headed to the Devils Throat (the last part of these insanely wide falls and one of the most spectacular). What was also great about this view was the walk way there, you pass through an Amazon like landscape that made the Mavrix long for the river up north, it conjures up images of wild jungles, lost tribes, giant snakes and J-Lo.... go snake GO! Actually we cant wait to go there ourselves!
Still slightly damp but no less happy after an exhausting 10 hour day of site seeing (traveling is such hard work!) we got back to our hostel where M´s weary legs none the less ran him from end to end of the hostels football pitch giving him some much needed and much appreciated excerise and a couple scars to show the kids one day. That night the hostel served up a giant Asado (braai) that had the Mavrix so full of meat we couldn´t move much less dance. However the Asado comes with ¨Loads of meat and a ¨Show¨¨ the hostel notice board said so when first Vix and then M got dragged up in front of the whole hostel to take part in some real Brazillian Samba booty shaking we had to oblidge. Vix managed to fare pretty well in the spotlight wiggling her hips and twirling her finger tips while M lost a bum shaking competition to Football hooligan from Essex...Oh the shame... the night ended with a giant congo line winding its way through the hostel with almost ever able bodied traveler joining in the fray... what a day...what a night.
The Froopers would leave Iguazu and return to their Buenos Aires realities the next day while the Mavrix bet on the weather and lost by staying an extra day in Iguazu. We would then get on a 23 hour bus that turned into a 30 hour bus trip due to a protest in Corrientes (no one knows where that is or what the protest was about but it sucked!) and then finally arrive in Salta in the hopes of big things and somehow running into a friend from BA, Hari da German. But for now my fingers are tired and our tummies are calling so cheers muchachos, until next time!
We immediately loved Puerto Iguazu, mostly because the sun had rolled out a golden carpet to meet us and the Mavrix were able to tan their pasty white skins next to the hostels giant pool (ex casinos rock!). After some tricky footwork and social fact finding we found the best (read cheapest) way to do the falls and see stuff the next day, and thus with a spring in our step and last nights big buffet dinner powering us on we (Mavrix with Froopers in tow, or was it the other way round?) caught a taxi to the waterfalls. On this day we would see one of Mother Natures master pieces, see local wildlife and learn that Cooper sings about everything, all the time, same tune ...different words...
Now you must understand, the falls are a full day experience, a ¨quick¨tour just isnt possible, they are too wide too high and too mighty to let you get away with that! While not as high as Vic Falls they are much much wider and just as mighty with the ability to inspire the kind of awe that would make even the most devout Mormon pick up a camera and take a few happy snaps for his 7 wives back home. So after splintering our jaws on the floor for a few hours looking at the falls from the many walk ways and look outs, we jumped on a boat and donned our mandatory life jackets. The boat takes you on a nice little tour of all the many sections of the falls allowing for pictures from many a vantage points until, quite unexpectantly, it goes right INTO the falls and drenches you from head to toe and down below. Thus after a couple times into the Devils Throat and other torrents of water, M was thoroughly wet and a little deaf from V´s screams of delight and de-fright but it was all good, we were having the time of our lives!!
Next we jumped onto another boat driven by an Argentinian who had eaten a few too many pies and therefore didnt need a floatation device to a little beach overlooked by part of the waterfall. We´d spend the next hour there sunning ourselves and pouring water out of our shoes thereby freeing the fishes and letting the tide back in. After what felt like far too short in this paradise beach we climbed back out and headed to the Devils Throat (the last part of these insanely wide falls and one of the most spectacular). What was also great about this view was the walk way there, you pass through an Amazon like landscape that made the Mavrix long for the river up north, it conjures up images of wild jungles, lost tribes, giant snakes and J-Lo.... go snake GO! Actually we cant wait to go there ourselves!
Still slightly damp but no less happy after an exhausting 10 hour day of site seeing (traveling is such hard work!) we got back to our hostel where M´s weary legs none the less ran him from end to end of the hostels football pitch giving him some much needed and much appreciated excerise and a couple scars to show the kids one day. That night the hostel served up a giant Asado (braai) that had the Mavrix so full of meat we couldn´t move much less dance. However the Asado comes with ¨Loads of meat and a ¨Show¨¨ the hostel notice board said so when first Vix and then M got dragged up in front of the whole hostel to take part in some real Brazillian Samba booty shaking we had to oblidge. Vix managed to fare pretty well in the spotlight wiggling her hips and twirling her finger tips while M lost a bum shaking competition to Football hooligan from Essex...Oh the shame... the night ended with a giant congo line winding its way through the hostel with almost ever able bodied traveler joining in the fray... what a day...what a night.
The Froopers would leave Iguazu and return to their Buenos Aires realities the next day while the Mavrix bet on the weather and lost by staying an extra day in Iguazu. We would then get on a 23 hour bus that turned into a 30 hour bus trip due to a protest in Corrientes (no one knows where that is or what the protest was about but it sucked!) and then finally arrive in Salta in the hopes of big things and somehow running into a friend from BA, Hari da German. But for now my fingers are tired and our tummies are calling so cheers muchachos, until next time!
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Our short little trip to Uruguay - 1 May - 7 May
So the plan was to get out of the city and head to the beach for some fun in the sun, cause the Mavrix were turning a little see through pale. This meant catching the ferry into Uruguay and hitting their famous, world class, not to be missed, white sand, bikini bearing, sun glass wearing beaches.
We began our trip in the UNESCO World Heritage site of Cologne de Sacremento just a short jump across the river from BA. This little town has beautiful cobbled streets, picture perfect houses, old cars and not a hell of a lot more to do! Especially when you are on a South African style budget! But we made the best of it, i.e did everything that was free :) this means walking everywhere, using the hostels free internet and eating crackers and R4 pate on the pier instead of Crayfish at the restuarant just next to our picnic spot. Same view only a whole lot cheaper - Mavrix style!! By the way we really did like this little town, but it should be treated as a one day pit stop rather than a destination in itself, there are after all only so many crackers one can eat...
Next we went to the World famous Punta del Este (what you havent heard of it??) All the brouchures show white sand beaches and tanned barely clothed bodies soaking up the sun (some are wearing speedos not bikinis but you get the idea). Unfortunately nobody told us that Autumn in Uruguay is what Autumn should be, cold, windy and a little rainy. Still Punta is a pretty beach town that probably erupts when the summer is in full swing and we enjoyed sitting on the beach watching the sun dip its head under the water. Actually watching the sun go down in Punta seems to be the locals favourite pass time as every sunset had at least a 100 spectators. Their other favorite pass times are riding their scooters in large circles around the Punta never seemingly actually going anywhere, drinking Mate´ and teen pregnancy (this last item however seems to be a South American pass time and is not resticted to Punta).
*Mavrix note* There is actually something in South America called ¨children of the carnival¨, it refers to the fact that almost 9 months to the day after carnival the hospitals see an influx of teen Moms sprouting new borns. They even intesify their sex ed over this time to try bring the numbers down but we arent sure if this really helps, the kids just like the diagrams and free condoms (probably to blow up rather than to use judging by the hospital records 9 months later)!
La Paloma is a really pretty surfer town - Que Lindo! the locals would say! However due to the fact that Autumn IS actually Autumn in U-r-gay the Mavrix were the only unfortunate uninformed tourists in the whole town! This of course meant that we had a hostel all to ourselves, Hostel Iribita or OUR Hostel as we would come to call it, is a cute little Hassienda style house with the cutest little old couple running it! The fact that they spoke no English made them even more endearing as did their hobbit like stature. They even left us the keys to the hostel one night and told us how to lock up since they were going out of town for the night...this really DID make it OUR hostel, so we made a fire, drank a large bottle of the cheapest red wine the Supermercado had to offer and watched the only thing in English on TV. Vix passed out later infront of the fire leaving M to clean the kind of mess that only the Mavrix can make without actually driving a truck into the place.
The next day we did something we hadnt done before, something that seemed strange and otherworldy to do, at first we werent comfortable doing it but we knew that it was the right thing to do and that ultimately it would help us.... We checked the weather report in the next towns.... yup Autumn is Autumn in Uruguay, so we decided to stop chasing the sun cause it had too much of a head start and back track to BA where we would meet up with our old Amigos Americanos - Frances and Cooper. We tried to give them a good super hero name like Mavrix but the best we could do was Frooper, somehow it suits them.
So... after a long bus drive and a misadventure involving M almost losing his warm jacket, the Mavrix returned to BA, strangley there was no welcoming parade or camera crew at the bus station, once again we had evaded the paparazzi......ok so no one cared but we were back and used the day to shower and have a decent blow dry for Vix´s hair.
That night we would board the FULL Cama bus (thats the one with fully reclining seats and as much wine as you can drink) to Iguazu with the Froopers.
Next Iguazu...
We began our trip in the UNESCO World Heritage site of Cologne de Sacremento just a short jump across the river from BA. This little town has beautiful cobbled streets, picture perfect houses, old cars and not a hell of a lot more to do! Especially when you are on a South African style budget! But we made the best of it, i.e did everything that was free :) this means walking everywhere, using the hostels free internet and eating crackers and R4 pate on the pier instead of Crayfish at the restuarant just next to our picnic spot. Same view only a whole lot cheaper - Mavrix style!! By the way we really did like this little town, but it should be treated as a one day pit stop rather than a destination in itself, there are after all only so many crackers one can eat...
Next we went to the World famous Punta del Este (what you havent heard of it??) All the brouchures show white sand beaches and tanned barely clothed bodies soaking up the sun (some are wearing speedos not bikinis but you get the idea). Unfortunately nobody told us that Autumn in Uruguay is what Autumn should be, cold, windy and a little rainy. Still Punta is a pretty beach town that probably erupts when the summer is in full swing and we enjoyed sitting on the beach watching the sun dip its head under the water. Actually watching the sun go down in Punta seems to be the locals favourite pass time as every sunset had at least a 100 spectators. Their other favorite pass times are riding their scooters in large circles around the Punta never seemingly actually going anywhere, drinking Mate´ and teen pregnancy (this last item however seems to be a South American pass time and is not resticted to Punta).
*Mavrix note* There is actually something in South America called ¨children of the carnival¨, it refers to the fact that almost 9 months to the day after carnival the hospitals see an influx of teen Moms sprouting new borns. They even intesify their sex ed over this time to try bring the numbers down but we arent sure if this really helps, the kids just like the diagrams and free condoms (probably to blow up rather than to use judging by the hospital records 9 months later)!
La Paloma is a really pretty surfer town - Que Lindo! the locals would say! However due to the fact that Autumn IS actually Autumn in U-r-gay the Mavrix were the only unfortunate uninformed tourists in the whole town! This of course meant that we had a hostel all to ourselves, Hostel Iribita or OUR Hostel as we would come to call it, is a cute little Hassienda style house with the cutest little old couple running it! The fact that they spoke no English made them even more endearing as did their hobbit like stature. They even left us the keys to the hostel one night and told us how to lock up since they were going out of town for the night...this really DID make it OUR hostel, so we made a fire, drank a large bottle of the cheapest red wine the Supermercado had to offer and watched the only thing in English on TV. Vix passed out later infront of the fire leaving M to clean the kind of mess that only the Mavrix can make without actually driving a truck into the place.
The next day we did something we hadnt done before, something that seemed strange and otherworldy to do, at first we werent comfortable doing it but we knew that it was the right thing to do and that ultimately it would help us.... We checked the weather report in the next towns.... yup Autumn is Autumn in Uruguay, so we decided to stop chasing the sun cause it had too much of a head start and back track to BA where we would meet up with our old Amigos Americanos - Frances and Cooper. We tried to give them a good super hero name like Mavrix but the best we could do was Frooper, somehow it suits them.
So... after a long bus drive and a misadventure involving M almost losing his warm jacket, the Mavrix returned to BA, strangley there was no welcoming parade or camera crew at the bus station, once again we had evaded the paparazzi......ok so no one cared but we were back and used the day to shower and have a decent blow dry for Vix´s hair.
That night we would board the FULL Cama bus (thats the one with fully reclining seats and as much wine as you can drink) to Iguazu with the Froopers.
Next Iguazu...
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Buenos Aires - 14 April onwards
So we had finally reached the big BA,
the city that all travelers SAY,
is full of CARNEee...
Where you party till the light of DAY,
and you never really have to PAY,
for a LAY,
we would be there from April till MAY!
Hip Hip HOORAY!
OK seriously, we arrived in BA at the Tango Inn Hostel, I guess its nice if you like cooking dinner in a bar with people smoking and playing pool around your pasta, we didnt! Still we met some interesting people that we clung to for much of our stay. Our first night involved going to what would become our favorite restuarant - Desnivel!! - this is the kind of place that gives Argentina the reputation for amazing delicious COW! We would visit here many times even though the MAVRIX were on Greek Easter fasting and therefore non COW eaters for a full 2 weeks! This would be torture for most of our stay in BA but we enjoyed watching our friends eat steak you can cut with a spoon (we tried it, it works!). They also had great house wine (Vino Tinto de la Casa) that was poured out of a penguin! Making penguin puking noises is really lots of fun!!
We started Spanish school on the Monday with an early morning move to another hostel, this was to become our home for the next 3 weeks - the Garden House Art Factory - this quiet hostel was perfect for us as it was arty, we had a private room, breakfast and internet etc. Basically a home in a hostel where we could hang out and study spanish without interuption...or that was the plan, but somehow BA just pulls you in.
Spanish school was great, we learnt alot there and now feel as if we can ask for stuff and even have a basic conversation rather than just pointing and grunting to get what we want like some 3 year old cave person ( La gente de las pedras) .
The M´s big 31st birthday was coming up and Vix was running around like the loca chica she is rustling up friends for the bash at our favorite Desnivel! M was given Che shoes, a harmonica (V doesnt let M actually play it but swears that he is the best harmonica player she knows) and lots of Dulce de leche cake with little candles in them for the big day. M also got to learn the happy birthday song in Spanish at class when V suprised him with more cake and a well sung ¨Cumpleanos Feliz¨. Turned out that 11 people really wanted to wish M happy birthday that night at Desnevil, not that we knew all of them but it was a rent a crowd and we made the best of it! Till about 3 in the morning when the V had to be stumbled home. A great time was had by all! The fact that the Mavrix were back on the meat for a day made it even better as we washed down the worlds best steak with the worlds cheapest wine spewed out of a willing penguin!
San Telmo - This is the best market EVER! The long cobbled road of Av Defensa in San Telmo comes alive on a Sunday with artesans selling everything from Mate´gourds to Tango pics to fine art to Antiques to high fashion, there is something for everyone here and we had to restrain ourselves from buying the whole damn market...we did give in sometimes though and walked away with a Penguino jug ala Desnevil which V is now carrying in her backpack ( you wont find THAT on any of the recommended packing lists on any website:-). The market is also FULL of street performers, every 10 steps is a new sound or experience, people dancing tango (careful they might pick you as a partner), folk singing, bubble blowing hippies, free hugs and entire Carnival inspired parades! What a vibe! We liked it so much we went twice.
Recolletta Cemetary - This is the burial place of some of Argentinas most prestigious, wealthy and well known personalities. In this maze of mausoleums you will find Evita lying near San Martin (the great liberator of Argentina) and just down the drag from some boxer in his still dressed in his bathrobe (he looks like a Hugh Hefner wanna be). We went on a day when BA was covered in smoke (literally, the farmers had burnt kilometers of fields and everything poured over the city) so the whole place was super spooky, right out of an episode of Scooby Doo. We walked through the many many ailes of the cemetary marveling at the beauty of the place and jumping out of our socks when a cat would jump out of the shadows...ooooowwwwooooo ...thats my scary sound. V was very fond of peaking into every Tomb, she was fascinated that there were sometimes up to 40 coffins stacked ontop of each other like cans of peas at the Pick n Pay, M had one look, shivered, squealed like a girl and didnt look again...oooowwwoowooo....we were also suprised when we were walking out to see a ¨new arrival¨ this is still a working cemetary and very much a tourist attraction...strange.... We would definitely recommend this to anyone coming out this way, it is beautiful and the energy is unmissable...ooooowwwooowwoooo.
Bocca Jnrs Futbol Game - Every guide book says the passion of the Bocca Jnrs fans is unsurpassed. Our hostel said ¨Dont go on your own you idiots!¨ its dangerous for locals but crazy for Gringos. Sigh... the mavrix said but finally gave in and went with the tour in the Gaggle of Gringos. The game was everything it promised to be. The fans are fanatical, they start singing about 20 minutes before the game starts and carry on past the final whistle, fireworks and flares erupt with the start of the game, every goal and when they are getting bored and want the players to do something more fun. Wow what a crazy crazy cool place! In this instance Bocca needed to win 3-0 and with 10 minutes and some pushing from the crowd they got the final goal, you have no idea what 50 000 jumping screaming argentinians (and a handful of gringos) feels like till you are there, it knocks over any rugby or cricket game we have ever been to!
Feria de Matadares - The Gaucho (argentine cowboy) Market - After a 1 hour bus ride into a scummy part of town the Mavrix were ready to turn right back and go home, the weather was overcast, the neighbourhood was dirty and the first stall sold the same crap you find a 100 people selling at Bruma, but the further we walked in the better it got. This was a side of Argentina we had not yet seen, the legendary Gaucho and their tradional dances, food and games. A Gaucho is part Cowboy, part Gypsey and all Argentina. They all have a definite Spànish swagger about them which we loved from the first sight. Thier dancing is powerful and shows their masculinity and power, it is the main reason you come to the fair as the crowds surrounding the stage will testify! But hunger a mistress like no other and we pulled ourselves away in search of sustanance, we found it in the form of Humitas (corn paste with meat wrapped in Mielie husks) thisi is real Gaucho food and tasted like home on the range....yum. After the bellies were full we heard the thunder of horse hooves and giddy upped to an exhibition of accuracy and riding skill, the Gauchos rode at full speed and put a small metal pin though a hanging steal pinkie ring (bigger than Alley Macbiel´s smaller than Oprah´s), wicked cool!
Overall BA is everything that it says it is and more. It has culture around every corner and every subway wall, it is common to see people walking with guitars on their backs or even bringing them to the restuarant to play with their friends. It has beautiful old buildings to rival Europe, the French and the Italians definitely had something to do with this. Good cheap food that even now with a full stomache the thought of is making me hungry. Markets in every area of town where real artists rather than matric drop outs show case their work. Beautiful parks where grups upon groups play soccer together and kids enjoy the merry go round. But there is a darker side to BA....Dog poo! They just dont seem to know how to pick the stuff up... apparently the locals have evolved some sort of dog poo radar and do the Tango side step without looking (maybe thats how Carlos Gardhel got the idea).
the city that all travelers SAY,
is full of CARNEee...
Where you party till the light of DAY,
and you never really have to PAY,
for a LAY,
we would be there from April till MAY!
Hip Hip HOORAY!
OK seriously, we arrived in BA at the Tango Inn Hostel, I guess its nice if you like cooking dinner in a bar with people smoking and playing pool around your pasta, we didnt! Still we met some interesting people that we clung to for much of our stay. Our first night involved going to what would become our favorite restuarant - Desnivel!! - this is the kind of place that gives Argentina the reputation for amazing delicious COW! We would visit here many times even though the MAVRIX were on Greek Easter fasting and therefore non COW eaters for a full 2 weeks! This would be torture for most of our stay in BA but we enjoyed watching our friends eat steak you can cut with a spoon (we tried it, it works!). They also had great house wine (Vino Tinto de la Casa) that was poured out of a penguin! Making penguin puking noises is really lots of fun!!
We started Spanish school on the Monday with an early morning move to another hostel, this was to become our home for the next 3 weeks - the Garden House Art Factory - this quiet hostel was perfect for us as it was arty, we had a private room, breakfast and internet etc. Basically a home in a hostel where we could hang out and study spanish without interuption...or that was the plan, but somehow BA just pulls you in.
Spanish school was great, we learnt alot there and now feel as if we can ask for stuff and even have a basic conversation rather than just pointing and grunting to get what we want like some 3 year old cave person ( La gente de las pedras) .
The M´s big 31st birthday was coming up and Vix was running around like the loca chica she is rustling up friends for the bash at our favorite Desnivel! M was given Che shoes, a harmonica (V doesnt let M actually play it but swears that he is the best harmonica player she knows) and lots of Dulce de leche cake with little candles in them for the big day. M also got to learn the happy birthday song in Spanish at class when V suprised him with more cake and a well sung ¨Cumpleanos Feliz¨. Turned out that 11 people really wanted to wish M happy birthday that night at Desnevil, not that we knew all of them but it was a rent a crowd and we made the best of it! Till about 3 in the morning when the V had to be stumbled home. A great time was had by all! The fact that the Mavrix were back on the meat for a day made it even better as we washed down the worlds best steak with the worlds cheapest wine spewed out of a willing penguin!
San Telmo - This is the best market EVER! The long cobbled road of Av Defensa in San Telmo comes alive on a Sunday with artesans selling everything from Mate´gourds to Tango pics to fine art to Antiques to high fashion, there is something for everyone here and we had to restrain ourselves from buying the whole damn market...we did give in sometimes though and walked away with a Penguino jug ala Desnevil which V is now carrying in her backpack ( you wont find THAT on any of the recommended packing lists on any website:-). The market is also FULL of street performers, every 10 steps is a new sound or experience, people dancing tango (careful they might pick you as a partner), folk singing, bubble blowing hippies, free hugs and entire Carnival inspired parades! What a vibe! We liked it so much we went twice.
Recolletta Cemetary - This is the burial place of some of Argentinas most prestigious, wealthy and well known personalities. In this maze of mausoleums you will find Evita lying near San Martin (the great liberator of Argentina) and just down the drag from some boxer in his still dressed in his bathrobe (he looks like a Hugh Hefner wanna be). We went on a day when BA was covered in smoke (literally, the farmers had burnt kilometers of fields and everything poured over the city) so the whole place was super spooky, right out of an episode of Scooby Doo. We walked through the many many ailes of the cemetary marveling at the beauty of the place and jumping out of our socks when a cat would jump out of the shadows...ooooowwwwooooo ...thats my scary sound. V was very fond of peaking into every Tomb, she was fascinated that there were sometimes up to 40 coffins stacked ontop of each other like cans of peas at the Pick n Pay, M had one look, shivered, squealed like a girl and didnt look again...oooowwwoowooo....we were also suprised when we were walking out to see a ¨new arrival¨ this is still a working cemetary and very much a tourist attraction...strange.... We would definitely recommend this to anyone coming out this way, it is beautiful and the energy is unmissable...ooooowwwooowwoooo.
Bocca Jnrs Futbol Game - Every guide book says the passion of the Bocca Jnrs fans is unsurpassed. Our hostel said ¨Dont go on your own you idiots!¨ its dangerous for locals but crazy for Gringos. Sigh... the mavrix said but finally gave in and went with the tour in the Gaggle of Gringos. The game was everything it promised to be. The fans are fanatical, they start singing about 20 minutes before the game starts and carry on past the final whistle, fireworks and flares erupt with the start of the game, every goal and when they are getting bored and want the players to do something more fun. Wow what a crazy crazy cool place! In this instance Bocca needed to win 3-0 and with 10 minutes and some pushing from the crowd they got the final goal, you have no idea what 50 000 jumping screaming argentinians (and a handful of gringos) feels like till you are there, it knocks over any rugby or cricket game we have ever been to!
Feria de Matadares - The Gaucho (argentine cowboy) Market - After a 1 hour bus ride into a scummy part of town the Mavrix were ready to turn right back and go home, the weather was overcast, the neighbourhood was dirty and the first stall sold the same crap you find a 100 people selling at Bruma, but the further we walked in the better it got. This was a side of Argentina we had not yet seen, the legendary Gaucho and their tradional dances, food and games. A Gaucho is part Cowboy, part Gypsey and all Argentina. They all have a definite Spànish swagger about them which we loved from the first sight. Thier dancing is powerful and shows their masculinity and power, it is the main reason you come to the fair as the crowds surrounding the stage will testify! But hunger a mistress like no other and we pulled ourselves away in search of sustanance, we found it in the form of Humitas (corn paste with meat wrapped in Mielie husks) thisi is real Gaucho food and tasted like home on the range....yum. After the bellies were full we heard the thunder of horse hooves and giddy upped to an exhibition of accuracy and riding skill, the Gauchos rode at full speed and put a small metal pin though a hanging steal pinkie ring (bigger than Alley Macbiel´s smaller than Oprah´s), wicked cool!
Overall BA is everything that it says it is and more. It has culture around every corner and every subway wall, it is common to see people walking with guitars on their backs or even bringing them to the restuarant to play with their friends. It has beautiful old buildings to rival Europe, the French and the Italians definitely had something to do with this. Good cheap food that even now with a full stomache the thought of is making me hungry. Markets in every area of town where real artists rather than matric drop outs show case their work. Beautiful parks where grups upon groups play soccer together and kids enjoy the merry go round. But there is a darker side to BA....Dog poo! They just dont seem to know how to pick the stuff up... apparently the locals have evolved some sort of dog poo radar and do the Tango side step without looking (maybe thats how Carlos Gardhel got the idea).
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