Lets get the heck out of dodge
Anna had already caught her plane back to NYC. And I think after two mornings of seeing the sunrise Paul decided he needed to get back to his real job of running his hostel and stop hanging out with us delinquents. It also happened to be the week before Semana Santa (Easter) which meant I got an extra two days off from school. Joanna and I figured this meant it was perfect timing for a road-trip.
The only question left was where. I wanted to find some wineries. Joanna wanted to find a mountain. Luckily Mendoza turned out to be the perfect spot to combine the two. Mendoza is a lovely little city near the Chilean border, in the desert right before the Andes start. Whenever I asked any Argentineans about Mendoza they all said the same thing ¨que linda!¨ which I took as a very good sign.
The desert climate, excellent irrigation and lack of rain make it perfect grape growing region. And Mount Anoncagua, the highest peak in the world outside of the Himalayas is only a 3 hour bus ride from the city. Mendoza it was. After making a few very confusing phone calls I managed to find us a bus heading to Mendoza in a few short hours. It was a 15 hour trek, which sounded not at all appealing.
¨Don´t worry¨ Joanna told me ¨we´ll be asleep through most of it, so it´s only like a 5 hour bus ride¨ I´ve always suspected that women live in a world with different rules regarding space and time, I took this as further evidence of that fact. But actually the bus ride wasn´t bad at all, the seats were about as comfortable as 1st Class airplane seats, they brought around wine and whiskey, the food was ok and they even played two terrible movies.
Before we knew it morning was upon us and we were pulling into the bus terminal in Mendoza. We consulted our trusty (or not so trusty, depending on your point of view) Lonely Planet guide and found a few hostels. The first one was booked, but the second one had room. An hour later we found a tour operator with a 3-day trek to Mount Anoncagua leaving early the next morning.
I came to Latin America with the intention of spending time hanging out at the beach and doing some dancing. And it turns out sleeping bags, fleeces and camping equipment weren´t required for any of that, and thus did not get packed. But luckily there was a store in town that will rent you whatever you might need. I got geared up and we decided to take it easy with the drinking and partying that night. There was a mountain calling our name and we were leaving bright and early in the morning. The wineries would just have to wait 3 more days.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Thursday, April 06, 2006
They can talk about me plenty when I´m gone
I went to the Cementeria de Recoleta a few days back. It´s one of those tourist attractions that seems to be at the top of everyone´s to-do list in Buenos Aires. And it was quite an impressive spectacle. Beautiful and breath-taking, no doubt.
It´s the cemetary where everyone who´s anyone in Argentina is buried. Walking around the tombs is like reading a map of Buenos Aires. You finally understand where those strange street names come from, the inspiration for the plazas and the squares are all buried within the cemetary walls. Presidents and Generals and all the assorted nobility of the country inhabited this city of the departed.
But I found the whole place rather depressing. Yes the architecture was lovely and the some of the tombs awe inspiring. But the oldest, most elaborte of them had fallen into a state of disrepair. The luster had dulled, the marble had chipped and moss had grown around even the most grand of tombs. Even the shinny new ones that were kept up with obvious care didn´t provide me with a sense of equivalent value for a departed human soul. I suppose they do provide solace for the families of those entombed within.
But this was somebodies idea of immortality. A burial chamber that would last throughout the ages. But time will take it´s toll on even the most impressive architectural feat, from the Great Pyramid in Giza to the Taj Mahal. And eventually we´re forget about the Kings and Pharoahs who inspired these majestic masterpieces, and they´ll become nothing more than a place for tourists to come take pictures.
If this is how one lives throughout the ages than I want no part of it. If this is all you can leave behind to inspire those who come after you, then something is gravely wrong. I think Hunter S. Thompson had the best idea I´ve heard so far. Now I just need to find someone who´s willing to shoot my lifeless corpse out of a canon when the time comes. Come on, doesn´t that just sound cool?
I went to the Cementeria de Recoleta a few days back. It´s one of those tourist attractions that seems to be at the top of everyone´s to-do list in Buenos Aires. And it was quite an impressive spectacle. Beautiful and breath-taking, no doubt.
It´s the cemetary where everyone who´s anyone in Argentina is buried. Walking around the tombs is like reading a map of Buenos Aires. You finally understand where those strange street names come from, the inspiration for the plazas and the squares are all buried within the cemetary walls. Presidents and Generals and all the assorted nobility of the country inhabited this city of the departed.
But I found the whole place rather depressing. Yes the architecture was lovely and the some of the tombs awe inspiring. But the oldest, most elaborte of them had fallen into a state of disrepair. The luster had dulled, the marble had chipped and moss had grown around even the most grand of tombs. Even the shinny new ones that were kept up with obvious care didn´t provide me with a sense of equivalent value for a departed human soul. I suppose they do provide solace for the families of those entombed within.
But this was somebodies idea of immortality. A burial chamber that would last throughout the ages. But time will take it´s toll on even the most impressive architectural feat, from the Great Pyramid in Giza to the Taj Mahal. And eventually we´re forget about the Kings and Pharoahs who inspired these majestic masterpieces, and they´ll become nothing more than a place for tourists to come take pictures.
If this is how one lives throughout the ages than I want no part of it. If this is all you can leave behind to inspire those who come after you, then something is gravely wrong. I think Hunter S. Thompson had the best idea I´ve heard so far. Now I just need to find someone who´s willing to shoot my lifeless corpse out of a canon when the time comes. Come on, doesn´t that just sound cool?
Que Sera Sera
Anna and Joanna got back from the Foz de Iguazu last night. And of course they had wondeful stories to tell of how amazingly gorgeous it was. They showed me their pictures and succeeded in making me incredibly jealous, but somehow I already knew that was going to happen.
It was Anna´s last night in Buenos Aires before she flew back to New York. And the girls wanted to thank me for giving them a place to crash so they decided to treat me to a nice dinner. I started to protest, it wasn´t that big a deal, and I didn´t mind the company, but then Paul gave me some excellent advice. ¨When a girl offers to buy you dinner, say ´thank you´and smile politely.¨
We had a great meal at an Armenian restaurant that Paul recommended. Apparently Armenian, Greek, Turkish and Middle Eastern food are all basically the same thing. Why they bother giving them all different names I don´t know. Paul joined us a little later in the night just as we were finishing up our meal. And pretty soon our one café before heading to the dance floor turned into a two hour conversation.
I´ve come to the conclusion that my favorite part about travelling is just the random people you meet and the long drawn out stories that we all share. We compared our respective criminal records and tortured romances. Joanna is married in what seems to be a very healthy relationship, but she got a kick out of our ridiculous tales. Everyone in this world has a story to tell, and if you give them the chance it´s amazing what you can learn about them, and yourself.
Eventually the folks at the restaurant told us they were closing up and we figured it was about time we hit the dance floor. I can see the tango practice has really paid off, I´m by no means good, but I feel more comfortable. And it sure is fun being able to twirl a girl around the dance floor without stepping on, bumping into or falling over the rest of the patrons. I practiced my dips with Anna again and Joanna kept correcting my poor form. But as 4 AM rolled around I knew I had to head home, I had classes tomorrow and we were all kinda ready to call it a night.
Anna has already made plans to come back to Buenos Aires in about a month. When she explained the travel benefits and flexible work scheduled she recieved as a flight attendent and how they applied to family as well I asked her to marry me. She laughed and kinda walked away, so I took that as a no. I guess it´s all for the best, she´s too tall for me anyway.
But if anyone else out there knows a beautiful, single, blonde haired, blue-eyed, Swedish, flight-attendent who´s closer to about 5´4¨ drop me a line. Until then I guess I´ll just keep trying to find some itinerary that actually works with my frequent flier miles.
Anna and Joanna got back from the Foz de Iguazu last night. And of course they had wondeful stories to tell of how amazingly gorgeous it was. They showed me their pictures and succeeded in making me incredibly jealous, but somehow I already knew that was going to happen.
It was Anna´s last night in Buenos Aires before she flew back to New York. And the girls wanted to thank me for giving them a place to crash so they decided to treat me to a nice dinner. I started to protest, it wasn´t that big a deal, and I didn´t mind the company, but then Paul gave me some excellent advice. ¨When a girl offers to buy you dinner, say ´thank you´and smile politely.¨
We had a great meal at an Armenian restaurant that Paul recommended. Apparently Armenian, Greek, Turkish and Middle Eastern food are all basically the same thing. Why they bother giving them all different names I don´t know. Paul joined us a little later in the night just as we were finishing up our meal. And pretty soon our one café before heading to the dance floor turned into a two hour conversation.
I´ve come to the conclusion that my favorite part about travelling is just the random people you meet and the long drawn out stories that we all share. We compared our respective criminal records and tortured romances. Joanna is married in what seems to be a very healthy relationship, but she got a kick out of our ridiculous tales. Everyone in this world has a story to tell, and if you give them the chance it´s amazing what you can learn about them, and yourself.
Eventually the folks at the restaurant told us they were closing up and we figured it was about time we hit the dance floor. I can see the tango practice has really paid off, I´m by no means good, but I feel more comfortable. And it sure is fun being able to twirl a girl around the dance floor without stepping on, bumping into or falling over the rest of the patrons. I practiced my dips with Anna again and Joanna kept correcting my poor form. But as 4 AM rolled around I knew I had to head home, I had classes tomorrow and we were all kinda ready to call it a night.
Anna has already made plans to come back to Buenos Aires in about a month. When she explained the travel benefits and flexible work scheduled she recieved as a flight attendent and how they applied to family as well I asked her to marry me. She laughed and kinda walked away, so I took that as a no. I guess it´s all for the best, she´s too tall for me anyway.
But if anyone else out there knows a beautiful, single, blonde haired, blue-eyed, Swedish, flight-attendent who´s closer to about 5´4¨ drop me a line. Until then I guess I´ll just keep trying to find some itinerary that actually works with my frequent flier miles.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Daddy´s got a new pair of jeans
I stopped off at one of those fancy schmancy designer stores on Avenieda Santa Fe today and bought a new pair of jeans. This was a good thing because I´ve been due for a new pair of jeans for a while now. The guy at the store showed me two pairs I really liked. Actually they were kinda the same pair, but one of them was ¨roto¨ and therefore cost 24 pesos more. That means it was all cool and hip because it already had wear marks in all the right places and holes and stuff.
So I did what I thought was the only prudent thing. I bought the more expensive pair with all the cool scuffs and tears and what not. But after I got them home and put them on I realized that one of the cool holes was in the back left pocket. That´s where I usually put my wallet.
Hmmm...this presented a problem. But at the moment I came up with what seemed like a perfect solution. I´ll just start wearing my wallet in my back right pocket instead. But the thing is, after you´ve been gotten used to having your wallet in your left pocket, in reality I´ve been wearing it there for as long as I´ve carried a wallet, switching to your right pocket is a big deal.
It feels strange on the right hand side. I feel like my whole balance is off. When I sit down there´s this strange uncomfortable bump where I´ve never felt one before. I´ve had to counteract this affect by puting my cell phone in my front left pocket instead of the front right which makes things somewhat better, but still everything is out of whack. It´s even affected my pimp strut which I spent years perfecting.
But I think I´m going to stick with having my wallet on the right hand side. Maybe just when wearing this pair of jeans, but there´s something about putting myself in an uncomfortable situation that I find very comforting. Change is good, we all need to shake things up from time to time, sometimes it´s minute and inconsequential...and sometimes it´s not.
I stopped off at one of those fancy schmancy designer stores on Avenieda Santa Fe today and bought a new pair of jeans. This was a good thing because I´ve been due for a new pair of jeans for a while now. The guy at the store showed me two pairs I really liked. Actually they were kinda the same pair, but one of them was ¨roto¨ and therefore cost 24 pesos more. That means it was all cool and hip because it already had wear marks in all the right places and holes and stuff.
So I did what I thought was the only prudent thing. I bought the more expensive pair with all the cool scuffs and tears and what not. But after I got them home and put them on I realized that one of the cool holes was in the back left pocket. That´s where I usually put my wallet.
Hmmm...this presented a problem. But at the moment I came up with what seemed like a perfect solution. I´ll just start wearing my wallet in my back right pocket instead. But the thing is, after you´ve been gotten used to having your wallet in your left pocket, in reality I´ve been wearing it there for as long as I´ve carried a wallet, switching to your right pocket is a big deal.
It feels strange on the right hand side. I feel like my whole balance is off. When I sit down there´s this strange uncomfortable bump where I´ve never felt one before. I´ve had to counteract this affect by puting my cell phone in my front left pocket instead of the front right which makes things somewhat better, but still everything is out of whack. It´s even affected my pimp strut which I spent years perfecting.
But I think I´m going to stick with having my wallet on the right hand side. Maybe just when wearing this pair of jeans, but there´s something about putting myself in an uncomfortable situation that I find very comforting. Change is good, we all need to shake things up from time to time, sometimes it´s minute and inconsequential...and sometimes it´s not.
The crazy nights of Buenos Aires
Wednesday afternoon my cell phone stopped working. At first I was really concerned, and then I thought, this is probably a good thing. It had been ringing nonstop, and every night when I would say to myself, “I’m kinda tired and should just take it easy” someone would call and force me to go out and party until some ungodly hour of the morning. No more!
But by Friday I was feeling guilty that I hadn’t talked to anyone in the last two nights. My body was thankful and definitely appreciative of the last two early nights in, but since I was almost feeling healthy again I broke down and went to the cell phone store. They fixed it right up and by 1:00 PM it was back in working order. At 1:30 Joanna called me. “Me and Anna are going to Foz de Iguazu for the weekend, are you interested in coming?” Oooh…I really wanted to go to the Foz de Iguazu. Everyone describes it as one of the most beautiful sights in all of South America, and apparently it just puts Niagara Falls to shame.
At first I said no, I had classes on Tuesday and I just didn’t think I had enough time. Then I thought about how much fun it would be, and when I talked to Joanna again and told her I was in. Then I thought about the 20 hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Puerto Iguazu. The nice thing about being a burnt out Software Engineer is that you have the savings of a burnt out Software Engineer, and sometimes you can throw money at a problem and turn a 20 hours bus ride into a 1 hour airplane trip. Then I learned it was Amy´s birthday today, one of my fellow classmates. Maciej, the Polish guy, and Till, the German guy, thought we should all go celebrate. “Salimos?” they asked. “Como no!” I responded. Ok the falls would have to wait, I was going to spend one more weekend in Buenos Aires.
One other thing I have learned about myself on this journey is that I’m a flake. I have changed my mind about so many plans so many times, and I don’t think I’ve been on-time to a single encounter in the last 3 months. I guess that’s the problem with being overly easy-going and spontaneous. Sure when someone is depending on me I make sure to come through, but that’s probably the only time. When I told Joanna I was out again, she didn’t seem very surprised. I think she might have figured out this character trait of mine in only two short weeks, while it’s taken me 28 years. “Can we still leave our stuff at your place?” she asked. Of course! It always feels nice to help a friend in need, especially when it costs you nothing and your friends are two very pretty girls.
When the time was right, our group of Birthday well-wishers managed to find each other with just the normal amount of difficulty I seem to
encounter whenever I try to meet up with friends in this country. The night started out with loud music, plenty of drinks and lots of cigarettes, and kinda ended the same way. In between I think we managed to offend just about everyone involved with some highly unsensitive comments about our respective countries, and there was even a beer spilling incident that was not soon forgotten.
Two in the morning proved to be the turning point, as usual. We were all kinda dragging but we managed to find some food to fuel us which kept us going for another couple of hours. As the wee hours rolled around we decided to take a break from the club scene and just sit and chill and shoot the shit.
Some of my best conversations happen at 4 AM. For some reason after you´ve been partying with a group of people all night, by the time that hour seems to roll around no one worries about being
polite anymore and will just say whatever is on their mind. We all shared our stories of how we wound up in Buenos Aires, and what was next in our lives. Well those of us that had any clue, which turned out not to be too bad a ratio at 50%.
I always seem to meet two kinds of people when I´m travelling. Those that think they´ve got it all figured out and those that know they don´t. The thing about being a cliché is, you´re not the only one. Some things just resonate deep within the human soul and it doesn´t seem to matter where you come from, what language you speak, or what you´ve been doing with your life. We´re all trying to make sense of this world, and we´re all at different points in that journey. Some of us have got the path mapped out and others of us have miles to go before we sleep.
Wednesday afternoon my cell phone stopped working. At first I was really concerned, and then I thought, this is probably a good thing. It had been ringing nonstop, and every night when I would say to myself, “I’m kinda tired and should just take it easy” someone would call and force me to go out and party until some ungodly hour of the morning. No more!
But by Friday I was feeling guilty that I hadn’t talked to anyone in the last two nights. My body was thankful and definitely appreciative of the last two early nights in, but since I was almost feeling healthy again I broke down and went to the cell phone store. They fixed it right up and by 1:00 PM it was back in working order. At 1:30 Joanna called me. “Me and Anna are going to Foz de Iguazu for the weekend, are you interested in coming?” Oooh…I really wanted to go to the Foz de Iguazu. Everyone describes it as one of the most beautiful sights in all of South America, and apparently it just puts Niagara Falls to shame.
At first I said no, I had classes on Tuesday and I just didn’t think I had enough time. Then I thought about how much fun it would be, and when I talked to Joanna again and told her I was in. Then I thought about the 20 hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Puerto Iguazu. The nice thing about being a burnt out Software Engineer is that you have the savings of a burnt out Software Engineer, and sometimes you can throw money at a problem and turn a 20 hours bus ride into a 1 hour airplane trip. Then I learned it was Amy´s birthday today, one of my fellow classmates. Maciej, the Polish guy, and Till, the German guy, thought we should all go celebrate. “Salimos?” they asked. “Como no!” I responded. Ok the falls would have to wait, I was going to spend one more weekend in Buenos Aires.
One other thing I have learned about myself on this journey is that I’m a flake. I have changed my mind about so many plans so many times, and I don’t think I’ve been on-time to a single encounter in the last 3 months. I guess that’s the problem with being overly easy-going and spontaneous. Sure when someone is depending on me I make sure to come through, but that’s probably the only time. When I told Joanna I was out again, she didn’t seem very surprised. I think she might have figured out this character trait of mine in only two short weeks, while it’s taken me 28 years. “Can we still leave our stuff at your place?” she asked. Of course! It always feels nice to help a friend in need, especially when it costs you nothing and your friends are two very pretty girls.
When the time was right, our group of Birthday well-wishers managed to find each other with just the normal amount of difficulty I seem to
encounter whenever I try to meet up with friends in this country. The night started out with loud music, plenty of drinks and lots of cigarettes, and kinda ended the same way. In between I think we managed to offend just about everyone involved with some highly unsensitive comments about our respective countries, and there was even a beer spilling incident that was not soon forgotten.Two in the morning proved to be the turning point, as usual. We were all kinda dragging but we managed to find some food to fuel us which kept us going for another couple of hours. As the wee hours rolled around we decided to take a break from the club scene and just sit and chill and shoot the shit.
Some of my best conversations happen at 4 AM. For some reason after you´ve been partying with a group of people all night, by the time that hour seems to roll around no one worries about being
polite anymore and will just say whatever is on their mind. We all shared our stories of how we wound up in Buenos Aires, and what was next in our lives. Well those of us that had any clue, which turned out not to be too bad a ratio at 50%.I always seem to meet two kinds of people when I´m travelling. Those that think they´ve got it all figured out and those that know they don´t. The thing about being a cliché is, you´re not the only one. Some things just resonate deep within the human soul and it doesn´t seem to matter where you come from, what language you speak, or what you´ve been doing with your life. We´re all trying to make sense of this world, and we´re all at different points in that journey. Some of us have got the path mapped out and others of us have miles to go before we sleep.
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