Monday, 2 April 2007

LAS GRUTAS 2006

Las grutas


January 2006... rainy weather in Bariloche and its surroundings: Villa La Angostura, San Martìn de los Andes, El Bolsòn, Lago Puelo. We spent there about a fortnight in which it rained cats and dogs, cheetahs and wolves, tigers and hienas, and what not. And everyday, the same old travel-agency-sort of story; the locals would tell you that the next day would be fine. When we got to El Bolson we made up our minds to go back north in search of a bit of sunshine. And that was how taking the route of the Seven Lakes, when arriving in a rainy San Martìn de los Andes, we went on to Las Grutas, having to do a stop-over in Neuquen since no direct service exists to the coastal city of our final destination from the mountainous San Martin.
Las Grutas is a tiny coastal town which became a summer boom a couple of years ago. Its beaches are magically beautiful, and when I say "magically" it is not only for their beauty, but also for their appearance and disappearance according to the tide moods. I did not understand till much later what our landlady had meant by writing the timetable of the high and low tide at the entrance of the hotel. You will appreciate the effect if you look closely at the pictures.
However, what happens during the night? Well, for two vegetarian city girls like My friend and I it was a bit of an adventure to find what we wanted. Let me tell you about the night we went for dinner later than usual due to the fact that the tide had been low till real late. We headed for a cosy restaurant in which menu, the main dish was a wide selection of pizzas.However, when ordering one of those delicious Italian courses, we were informed the place had run out of pizza dough that night. Can you believe it? After walking for ten blocks, we eventually managed to get the desired dish and headed for a bar to have some coffee. Why not having our coffee in that restaurant? Just because it is customary for us to visit different places when we go out for the night. It seems to be our version of the Spanish Tapas.
Of course it was a bit more than difficult to find an open place well into the morning. Yet, our stubborness was rewarded. And what is more, we found a nice place where some live music was being played. So far so good. But what happened next? Firstly, the waiter laughted at us and remarked we were not cool at all for we had asked for a sad lagrima (*) and an unfriedly cortado (*) . Funny he laughed at our order when he did not have the faintest idea what these coffees were. As soon as my spoon danced within mine, I realized it was just plain black coffee. And when my friend sipped hers, she realized there was too much milk in it! "Are you gonna complain?", she asked. "Nop. It's nearly three in the morning, I'll just have my coffee and I wanna go to sleep. But if you want to complain, do so," I answered sleepily. And she did call the waiter and gave him a good piece of her mind."Listen," she said,"this coffee isn't properly done, because a good "lagrima" has 85% of milk and just 15% of coffee. Can you do it again, please?". The vacant face the waiter put was unbelievable. Yet, as clients are always right here in Buenos Aires, in Las Grutas and everywhere else, he obviously said "Of course", turned round with the cup, when into the kitchen and came back in less than three seconds with something my dear friend finally drank, I am not so sure whether it
was happily or not, but we could eventually go back to our hotel room and have our much desired sleep those mishaps.
In fact, a good "lagrima" proved to be one of the most difficult things to get well done in the whole town, for I remember another occasion when a waiter and a bartender had a heated debate on how to prepare it, and it was my friend again the one who taught them how to do so. In a town where every dish seems to be done with a little bit of this and a pinch of that, there ware two choosy girls wanting their food and drink done in the big-city-fashioned way. LOL.

(*)a lagrima is a macchiatto, but the actual translation into English is a tear, while a cortado is coffee and milk, but the translation into English would be unfriendly.

Monday, 26 February 2007

NAZCA LINES 2002

On how we ended up in the middle of the Nazca desert

This album is powered by BubbleShare - Add to my blog

Everything started more than 10 years ago, when as part of a reading lesson with children, we happened to get several texts about those unexplicable wonders which belong to past cultures. And one of those were those marvellous gigantic drawings found in the Nazca desert in Peru. From that moment on those designs remained in my memory.For our 2002-holidays, Marina and me were thinking about a trip to Europe. However, after 9/11 everthing changed. Her mother got afraid and felt bad about us flying to the old continent. And so it was that the idea of going to Perù came to my mind. Through another friend I got some information, tips and an itinerary of a trip through the neighbouring country of Bolivia and Perù. While Marina was determined to include, obviously, a visit to the Machu Pichu ruins (of which I will write in a later post) , I insisted on visiting the Nazca Lines. The Lines being so imposing, I had imagined the Nazca town would be a place of importance, I mean, of considerable size. You wouldn't believe my shock when I stepped off the bus at the terminal and found out it was a mere little town in the middle of desert. That is, a minute town surrounded by nothing but desert. Quite picturesque, though , many people would say. I would say an hour was more than enough to do the usual tour around the place.
We arrived there in the morning, got some decent accomodation, got a comforting shower, had some lunch and then, found out about our precious aim: the Nazca Lines. A very friendly man told us that two of the drawings could be appreciated from a lookout built next to the road to Ica and that a bus would take us there for just one sol. By the moment we made up our minds to go there it was around three. Luckily (we thought) there was a coach with a man shouting "To Ica", "To Ica", and three seats left. Therefore, we paid for our tickets and took two of the seats. We waited, and waited, and waited, while the man went on shouting his next destination. After several minutes, we started wondering when that coach was gonna leave for the promised destination, and so we asked about it. But all we got for an answer was that we were to leave at any minute now. After several more minutes we got angry, asked for our money back and jumped off what we considered an unreliable bus, and looked for a taxi, instead. And we were even luckier than before (we thought) for we found an empty one. Again, the taxi driver was shouting "To Ica" at the top of this voice. "Are you leaving now?", we asked. "Yes, one more passenger and we leave", was the unexpected answer and the driver left in search of that blessed traveller. Needless to say, we couldn't make head or tails of what was happening. Once more, after several minutes looking after the vehicle, we decided to leave in search for a second coach. And this time our prayers were heard, and a coach with only two seats left appeared, we took those places and the so longed journey began. Uf!
In a few moments we were not only out of town, but also into a vast desert, with nothing on one side of the road and nothing on the other but sand and the horizon in the far distance. It was then we realized why the drivers had been so worried about getting a full bus before departing. As we could see then, there was nothing between Nazca and Ica but the so called Nazca desert. Oh my! Two city girls in the middle of nowhere expecting to get the same service one can get in 9 de julio and Corrientes! And don't think that lookout was anywhere nearby!It took us a long while to get off the bus, but eventually, we hopped off the bus and there it was: a rustic construction with a few taxis parked nearby and some tourists going up and down the rough precarious tower. And the Lines? We still couldn't see a thing!
Yet, once we got to the top, there they were, two of them! The frog and the tree!Impossible to describe my feelings at the moment! Simply amazing! And to think that we were going to see the sunset there!
However, the illusion got broken when we came down the tower to see all the taxis leaving the place and it dawned on us that we were about to be left alone in the middle of the desert! What could we do? Try to stop a lorry and ask for a lift? It didn't seem to be the best of ideas! Luckily, just then we asked a taxi driver who was about to leave whether he could take us back to town together with the family he was already transporting. There were no objections provided we went in the boot. "Yes, of course, even if we have to go on the roof", we answered.
And this is how we could see the sunset next to the Nazca Lines and survive to the experience! More about the rest of the Lines in my next post.

Thursday, 15 February 2007

ROSARIO 2007

How I came to end up in Rosario

This album is powered by BubbleShare - Add to my blog

Those of you who know me and have known me for some time are thinking that I am going to start this blog writing about one of those trips you call exotic. Many of you are used to my exotic or not-so-ordinary destinations. However, I have made up my mind to begin writing about my latest trip. That is, I am gonna write about my trip to the city of Rosario in the province of Santa Fè in Argentina.
I am what I would call an I-never-unpack kind of traveller since I am used to spending no more than two or three days in each place I visit. I remain in a place enough time to see the most interesting sights and then, I just travel on, therefore, my suitcase is always ready to move on. However, this year I needed to be near Buenos Aires so that I could travel back home quickly if it had been necessary. That was why I decided to spend 10 days in one and the same place.
The second point to consider was the accomodation. Once more I was travelling alone, this is to say that all the expenses were on me, no sharing of hotel bills or anything, on the one hand. And on the other, hotel rooms can turn out to be a bit boring when you are on your own. This is why I went for the Hostelling International Webpage and checked where in Argentina there are hostels. And this is how I found that in Rosario, a city I had never visited before, there was an inexpensive well-organised place where to stay.
I contacted the people at La Casona de Don Jaime and made a booking via mail. From the very moment I received their mails with one or two lines, I got the impression they were friendly people. Yet, when I was welcomed at the hostel I did confirm my first impression. The staff is really friendly and cooperative. What is more, they help create a wonderful atmosphere which spreads among the guests.

First impressions
Just as my first impression of the hostel was a good one, my other first impressions were also good. For instance, my bus journeys to and from Rosario were really comfortable and what is more amazing, the buses arrived exactly as scheduled.

This album is powered by BubbleShare - Add to my blog
Details at the Monument

As a first city tour I was recommended to walk for two blocks and then turn right into Cordoba Avenue, the pedestrian street in the commercial centre of the city, and there I had to walk straight on till I found the National Monument to our Flag. Here I must digress a bit and tell you that in Buenos Aires I happen to live two blocks from Florida street, one of the pedestrian streets in our commercial centre. Therefore, you can imagine my surprise when I happened to find not only some shops, but the practically the same shops I do find near my place, but in Rosario. I felt as if I were at home. At first I was delighted, but then, I started wondering what was the point of travelling 300 kilometres to feel I was at home! But anyway, I just fell in love with the city. And more so when I saw the imposing monument! I took 16 pictures of it!

Sightseeing around Rosario
Even though I must confess I am not a water-fan, going to La Florida beach or to La Isla is a must for a tourist. What the locals call La Isla is, in fact, a number of islands which are located on the other side of the river and belong to the province of Entre Rìos. For me, a city girl, the experience was more than interesting: I mean, crossing the river by boat and walking along an almost barren white beach was quite something. And to add to the adventure, when crossing back to the city, a storm alert came up and I spent something like three hours to come back, and that without mentioning the movement of the boat, Oh my!
La Florida beach is different. On the one hand, it is on this side of the river. It is also smaller, and therefore, more crowded, specially because I went there on a Sunday. Unluckily I missed the sand sculptures which had been done the day before. The event of the day was a Bikini Open, though, of course, I was not interested in the least.
In later years the city has done a more than interesting job on the recycling of old buildings, and so it is that you find the old train station transformed into a municipal building and a museum for children, for example. But a building which is worth visiting is the Macro Museum. It used to be a silo, therefore, when you are inside you feel as if you were a cereal seed.
My friends in Rosario
The question I was asked all the time was whether I was visiting friends in Rosario. Unluckily up to then, my answer was negative. However, this visit left many travelling friends in my agenda. Some of them will remain as a nice memory, with some others, we keep in touch via mail or chat, and there are some whom I see from time to time. And this is the reason why there are more visits to the city of Rosario.
It was Monday morning when I met Mary, a communicative Argentinian girl who does not speak English at all, and Agnes, a Dutch girl who speaks fluent English and very little Spanish. They had tried to communicate through gestures and the little Spanish they could share, but it had proved difficult. Yet, we shared something strong, the three of us were travelling on our own, and so, I spontaneously became the bridge of communication between them and we became a nice and funny trio for a couple of days. We would go practically everywhere together, with me speaking a little in Spanish and a little in English. It was quite an experience.
Through Mary, I met Pablo, who deserves a chapter of his own. But, as I know he is too humble to accept such a thing, I will devote just a few lines to him. He is a wonderful person who is always ready to lend you a hand or an ear or whatever you need, he is a really sympathetic person. I am sure he will be a great doctor in the near future.
Then I met Malena and Margarita. Malena is an active five-year-old girl from Buenos Aires who came to the hostel with Margarita, her grandmother. Or was it the other way around? When I saw Malena go into our room I thought to myself that she would want to talk, but the rest of the guests at the moment spoke only English; and that was why I struck up a conversation with her. I did not want her to feel lonely among so many grown-ups. And through her I met Margarita, who is not only a wonderful grandmother, but also a wonderful person. Imagine: taking your granddaughter to a hostel! Wow! It is cool!
Later I met Gloria, a rural teacher from Santa Fè, who was travelling with her son. Two teachers together, Gloria and me, imagine what we could talk about! And then, Catalina, who made me try mate tererè for the first time in my life! And many other people of whom I do not remember names now, but they surely made my stay a huge success! Thanks to them all. These lines are my humble present to you, my travelling friends!