The six hour bus ride from Santiago, Chile, slowly became a 12 hour adventure. Originally scheduled to leave the Santiago bus terminal around 8:40 am, the bus finally arrived and departed closer to 10:30. Throughout much of South America, I have been able to sleep like a baby in it’s plush long distance buses. The options, are: the Clasico, where your fabric seat reclines maybe up to 45 degrees; the Semi-Cama, there is a leg rest, more width to your seat, and the seat reclines up to 55 degrees; the Cama, leather seats with leg rest, reclines up to 65 degrees and you are given blankets and pillow; and on some journeys the Executivo, where your seat can turn into a bed. With all these choices you are provided meals and/or snacks, and drinks, in the case of Cama and Executivo, wine and champagne is also available. Of course, this plush mode of transportation is said to only exisit in Brazil, Argentina and Chile, so for the time being, I have been taking advantage of the Semi-Cama as much as I can, as I personally have preferred the Semi option over the Cama, as I find the Cama’sseat to be stiffer and the leather to cause me to slide as I sleep. But, I digress…
For most of the journey I slept, until the bus would stop, thinking it was a border check point. Instead it turned out, that the bus stopped waiting for the snowing to let down or till the road ahead was cleared. Yes, I said snow, as my days of Skipping Winter, was now over. The bus proceeded to start and stop over the next few hours as we crossed the Andes, and eventually into Argentina. At the border, the back up of buses and cars, meant that it would take hours instead of minutes, so we hopped off the bus to walk in the snow, or in my case into the local snack shop/cafe to get myself a lomito (steak sandwich), welcome back to Argentina. The border check point took around two hours, and we arrived in Mendoza at 10 pm, instead of at 4 pm.
During the ride, I met Suzie from Oxford, England. As this was her first trip to Argentina, and she was headed for Buenos Aires, I spent a good deal of time telling her how much, I loved it there and why. The two of us decided to split a cab, and to go check out the hostel I had picked out based on the rankings on Hostelworld (website). After checking in, we went back out in search of food, in search of what else, but steak. After all, it was Suzie’s first meal in Argentina, and you have to have steak, to commemorate the occasion. Unfortunately, we had a hard time finding a good restaurant close to the hostel that night, and she had to settle for the worst steak, that I had to-date in Argentina. Welcome to Argentina, Suzie.
The next day, the two of us, went exploring the City of Mendoza with map in hand. That’s when you realize that many of the cities in Argentina are much the same, an urban planner’s dream or nightmare, as most of the heart of the city is set in a grid pattern, with a major square in the middle, and smaller squares/plazas spread throughout the city, and pedestrian shopping streets. And, maybe unique to Argentina, you will find the same street names, whether you are in Buenos Aires, Rosario or Mendoza, named after famous Argentines, it’s various provinces, and it’s significant dates in history.
The tour eventually led us to the famed (using that word very loosely) aquarium of Mendoza, built over 45 years ago, the facility is mostly underground, and resembles much more of a pet store than any educational or research institution/facility. But, for a mere entrance price of 3 pesos, it was probably the best buck, as I got to see, two very unique underwater species (using that words, as I don’t know what to call them: fish, reptile, mammal or freak). One, swam like a fish, and had a robo-cop appearance with it’s head turning side to side at much more of a severe angle than any fish can manage, than there was the thing, that we dubbed: the alien rat fish. As it was like a car crash, scary to look at, but you couldn’t but help to stare at. they were both truly bizarre and beyond words. So, if you are ever in the neighborhood, plan on spending those three pesos. Unfortunately the reptile exhibit was closed across the street, but I could only imagine, what exciting animals, we missed out on.
That night and the next day, would be a true test of patience for me. I am notorious for having a low tolerance for tardiness, at home, especially for deliberate disregard for other people’s time, knowing that others could not leave, until that last person showed up. Suzie found out that she had a friend in town, through Facebook(social network website), and made plans to meet up with him for dinner and a night out on the town, as he had been living in Mendoza for weeks now. Three of us headed out to his hostel, where we continued to wait for over an hour and a half, for one of his locale friends to show up. Than we continued to walk almost aimlessly in search of a restaurant, for over half an hour, when it was presumedthat he had already picked one out. The cherry on top, was when his friends, who wore winter appropriate clothing, opted to take the outdoor seats, inside of the warm indoors, while poor little Suzie was dressed more for a night out indoors, than outdoors. What started as a planned dinner for just before 10 pm, started after midnight, and left us with little time to make a club. (In Mendoza most of the clubs close their doors to new guests at 2 am, and the club area of town is located a 20 min plus taxi ride away). So, when the group ended up at a locale bar, with a heavy metal act, I quickly made my escape, and returned to the hostel.
The next day seven of us from the hostel headed out to the area of Maipu, home to more than a handful of vineyards, that has made Mendoza world famous in the world of wine. We rented bikes from Mr. Hugo, headed first for the wine museum, followed by an olive farm, three vineyards, and finally a chocolate factory, just before sunset. So, what is somebody who is allergic to alcohol/wine, doing on a wine tour? Remember, I am a lemming, and it is the main thing to do in Mendoza. Much like my fellow lemmings for the day, we had not been on a vineyard/wine tour before, but I became a bit frustrated when my compadres, spent most of our time at the vineyards trying to devise a plan to drink the most amount for as cheap as possible, to the point that they spend in excess of half an hour to just save 10 pesos. Here is how it works: at most of the vineyards, they have a tour of their premises and the winery process, it would include a guide, and at the end of the tour, you get to sample anywhere from three to five types of wine. The glass would not be full, more of a taste than anything else. At the completion of the tasting, you can pay 10 pesos and be on your way, or you can buy a bottle starting at 15 pesos, and the tour would be free. So my group devised a plan, to send one person into the tour, go through the tasting, and buy one of the cheaper bottles to share amongst the group. They wanted to do this at each of the vineyards so that each person would get a turn, there were six drinkers. About fed up with this, considering it was only a few bucks, and we were two hours into this bike ride, but only one vineyard down, I was about to take off, when common sense hit them, as they tried the 15 pesos bottle, and found out: you get what you paid for. It is well known that buying the bottles does not guarantee you the lowest price, but you do get a much better selection. So the group decided to pick up the pace, and at the last winery of the day, the oldest in Maipu/Mendoza, we all joined the tour, and they all agreed it was the best wine they had sampled all day. As for me, the cafe con leche really hit the spot, as it was starting to really get cool, as the sun was setting.
25 de Mayo, is one of the most commonly named streets and plaza/park throughout Argentina, as it is known as “el Dia de la Revolucion de Mayo,” or Revolution Day of May, commemorating the sequence of events in 1810, leading up to Argentina’s declaration of independence from Spain. As it was already Sunday, and now Independence Day, the town markets and shops were quiet, but the streets and plazas a buzz. In the main square they had an exhibition or fair of sorts, where various branches of the armed forces, displayed their gear, machinery, uniforms, and vehicles, as kids and adults, ooh-ed and aah-ed, over their guns, night vision goggles, and artillery vehicles. The town was draped with flags, and the colors of the flag: baby powder blue and white, even the fountains throughout the town, now spat out blue water to celebrate this occasion. In the afternoon, I swapped groups, as most of my fellow bikers, were nursing a wine hangover from the day and night before, and went to a smaller square where they had a festival filled with food stalls, pastries, sandwiches, and a stage showcasing singing, dancing, and speeches. The evening and event, was finished off with a small fireworks show, which didn’t really do the trick, as the sun had yet to set, but the release of hundreds of blue and white balloons, followed by white birds, did impress the crowd. Later that night, I caught another overnight bus for Cordoba.
