Buenos Aires again…

I have spent the last four days in Buenos Aires again. I love this city and could definitely live here. We have managed to knock out much of the traditional site seeing. I toured the barrios of Recoleta, Palermo, and Boca. I also had the interesting experience of enjoying Australia Day abroad. I did not even know there was such thing as Australia day before I got on the road.

When we got back to BA, we decided to stay in the legendary Milhouse Hostel–named after the Simpson’s character–once again. We have begun to refer to it as the “Black Hole” as it sucks you in.  Milhouse has a very friendly staff, is very clean, and holds up to 150 backpackers. The problem is that it holds up to 150 backpackers. It is very easy to get stuck sharing stories and cocktails for hours on end. Buenos Aires can quickly become an afterthough after a few hours at Milhouse. This time in B.A we have done a much better job of circumventing the magnetic force of the ¨the black hole¨.

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I have been using  the “Time Out” guide to Buenos Aires, a travel guide recommended to me by multiple sources to help with my exploration. Last week I decided to take a tour by myself through the best barrio in town, Recoleta.

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Mar Del Plata– Boca vs. River–Near Death at the Beach

Thanks to everyone for the positive feedback. I appreciate it. I am finally starting to figure out how to work this damn thing. Look for some more additions in the next couple of weeks. The comment section has been turned on so anyone can comment if they like.  OK, where do I begin? It has been a crazy last few days and we have covered quite a bit of ground. I am now back in Buenos Aires. We traveled from Villa Gesell to Mar Del Plata on Saturday to spend a few more days at the beach–then headed back to BA this morning by bus.

Mar Del Plata is beautiful.

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Life in Argentina

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We are still in Villa Gesell. Paul, Ben, and I are getting ready to make some moves. We are not sure where we are going yet but we will probably be leaving tomorrow. Chances are we will end up in Mar Del Plata, another beach town south of here. If we can get to Mar Del Plata, we are going to try to get tickets to see Boca Junior play River Platte tomorrow night. These are the two biggest football teams in Argentina. It should be intense and I hope we can get tickets. Chances are we will have to scalp them.

The following are some of my observations of the Argentinian people:

One of the most interesting phenomenon I have experienced thus far is what happens when a child and parent are separated. I think its normal worldwide for little children to wander off from their parents while at the beach. In Argentina, when the kids wander off, the person that finds the child, will put them on their shoulders or hold them up in the air. Next, everyone in the vicinity will begin clapping slowly in unison. This process goes on until parent and child are reunited. The three or four times we have witnessed this as many as one hundred people would be clapping in unison. At first we did not have a clue what was happening. The people clapping were not happy. We saw a few terrified mothers. But, when the reunion takes place the crowd bursts out into cheer. This seems like a pretty efficient process.

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Change of Plans–The beachtown of Villa Gesell

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Well, Uruguay did not exactly happen. The night before we were supposed to leave for Montevideo a group of Australians came to the hostel in Buenos Aires. They raved about a beach town 5 hours south of B.A. called Villa Gesell (pronounced Bee-ja He-cell). So, the Aussies I have been traveling with and I  threw the Uruguay plans out the window and now find ourselves in the local beach that we did not even know existed called Villa Gesell.

My first over the top, crazy travel story on this trip happened on the way here. I am traveling with two Aussies, Benny Vears and Paul O’hanlon, aka as “Lava Lips”. While at the bus station in Buenos Aires Lava Lip’s backpack was stolen by two indigenousness women. We think they were Brazilian as they did not speak any Spanish but who knows. He set the pack down and the three of us became distracted buying bus tickets when they struck.  Lava’s pack was extremely heavy, maybe 65 pounds.  The two women–both small by comparison– had to work as a team to steal the pack.  Due to the sheer weight they could not carry it individually. Each grabbed a backpack strap.  Clearly something fishy was going on and the police nabbed them as they were trying to run out of the door. When Lava Lips found them in police custody he flipped his lid. He screamed at the top of his lungs in the bus terminal “amor en putas”. He though he was calling them thieves and bitches. The actual translation of what he was screaming repeatedly was”I love sluts!”.  We did not realize until later why the passerbys in the terminal were laughing.  What is the moral of this story? Do not leave your pack down unattended for even a second.  The poverty down here is formidable. People are desperate.

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Alive, Well, and Loving Life in Buenos Aires

OK! I am here. Buenos Aires. It feels like it is 95 degrees–but everything down here is in Celsius so who knows. The humidity is severe. Regardless, I am having a blast so far except for my throbbing hangover induced headache.
I am keeping a written journal. Here are some of the entries from the last few days:

1-9-2007 4:30 pm

I am sitting in the airport at Dulles sipping on an ice cold Stella.  Today is the day it all begins and it has definitely not set in yet that I am getting ready to do this. I just changed some dollars into Argentinian money. The exchange rate is 3 to 1. Does that mean a good steak is $8.00?

1-9-2007 6:34 pm Sitting on the plane in route to Sao Paulo, Brazil before heading to Argentina

Either there are a lot of Asian people in Brazil, or I am on the wrong plane.
I have now had many Stellas and spent a good portion of the last few hours arguing with a San Diego Charger’s fan about how much better the Baltimore Ravens are. I have just begin to read the Motorcycle Diaries by Che Guevara. It is Che’s diary as he travels through South America on a beat up motorcycle with a friend in the early 1950s. So far it is a great read and perfect for the start of my trip. Che eventually ended up as a Cuban revolutionary and was killed off by the CIA in Bolivia. I would love to his trail of aimless wanderings laid out in “the Motorcycle Diaries” but would prefer not to be snuffed out by the CIA in the long run. Cuba is supposed to be beautiful. Will I have to wait until Castro dies to travel there?

1-10-2007 2:00 pm

It has definitely hit me now. I am sitting at bar drinking a grande cervesa, eating carne empanadas. I have checked into the hostel and already met about 15 crazy Australians. My plan from the beginning has been to find some Aussies to travel with–they are everywhere. I just walked down Nuevo de Julio–the main 9 lane drag in the heart of Buenos Aires. Our hostel is located downtown not far from San Telmo Square.

I feel like my job is to enjoy this experience and learn about the culture here. It is a truly empowering, fantastic feeling. All I have to do is experience life for the foreseeable future and I can not stop smiling.

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