The good, the bad, the ugly, and the very lovely

OK, there are already Facebook groups testifying to horror stories involving Buenos Aires taxi drivers, so I won't go into a rant about that.

But, first it's time to say good-bye to Bariloche, Alisa and Nate. After spending another day in Bariloche checking out the nooks and crannies I missed before, we hop on a bus to the airport. Alisa knows not to draw out long good-byes with me and they hop on the return bus back to Bariloche.

The check-in clerk takes advantage of my distracted mind and starts telling me I need to have an Argentinean passport because I am flying on a discounted ticket. I regain my wits about me and explain that I booked my tickets over the Internet and that there was no problem when I flew from BA to Bariloche. After a little drama (because my Spanish is pretty rudimentary) and intervention by his supervisor, my ticket and US passport are accepted but he needs to regain the upper hand so he decides that I can't carry on my roll-on bag even after I show that it's half-empty and can squish down. Oh, well, not a problem. I'm experienced at traveling with checked baggage now.

It's a packed flight with lot of cranky tots. Argentinean parents seem to have a high threshhold for letting their children wail on.

The Buenos Aires taxi driver decides to take me for a winding ride even though the B&B is just a short hop from the airport. When the meter starts going too high, I let him know in my very basic Spanish that the "official" at the airport told me that the ride would be less than 30 pesos. The driver said I must have misunderstood. No, no, I said. I understood very well confidently though I sound like a gringa. I can see on the map (as I waved the map to him) how close the hostel is from the airport. I didn't tell him that I'm inept at reading maps and, besides, the map I was waving was from Bariloche.

But, he got the picture anyway and we finally pull up to the hostel. He even knocked off a few pesos from fare after a little shouting match. I need to learn a few curses from Alisa (I don't think my calling him liar and a thief was very intimidating since I can't even roll my r's dramatically).

But, the little Bed & Breakfast is very cute. Even though it's in a relatively quiet part of town there are still the ubiquitous yapping guard dogs whose effectiveness is questionable since they bark constantly. But, I'm able to block it out partially with my NY-subway ear plugs.

I still manage to wake up early, grab some breakfast and start wandering around the Palermo section of BA. Palermo is very slow to wake up on Sunday mornings but it's a quaint section of town.

I seek out the Japanese garden and my camera doesn't stop. Each scene is prettier than the next.











Once Palermo wakes up, it has many Sunday crafts markets around each of its many squares, parks and traffic circles. There are lots of places to explore and get lost for this map-challenged reader.

But, alas, the day comes to an end and it's time to hop in another taxi. This time I decide I better take a fixed-price taxi and he even discounts the fare because neither of us had small change.

The Delta airlines check-in clerk hassles me because my passport doesn't have a stamp showing that I left Argentina even though there are other stamps showing that I entered Chile, left Chile and re-entered Argentina. So, I have to go to Immigration and plead my case. Just a tiresome bureaucracy but it gets done in time for me to trade in my left-over pesos for four bottles of Argentinean wine after the duty-free sales guy tells me that I can bring 6 bottles into the US duty free.

It's a packed flight with lots of babies, children and happy tour groups. But, eventually, everyone settles in for a long, overnight journey home.

The US Customs guy stops me and doesn't believe it when I told him that I didn't know that there was a one-bottle limit. Anyway, he rolls his eyes at me and waves me through telling me to stop playing innocent. Just as I start to protest (why would I lie?!!) then I get it -- he must hear that all the time.

Hmmm, will my illegal wine taste just a little better? Anyway, it's great to be back home where I am able to navigate without reading a map.

Thanks, Alisa and Nate, for sharing a wonderful slice of your life there with me!

I walk rubble (Camino Gravel)

Chile is beautiful with a nice, casual feeling. We enjoy a nice breakfast and plot a course to our next destination. We make our way to Villarrica with a majestic volcano dominating the skyline. It´s a cute town with artisan markets. Alisa and Nate pick up a most delicious watermelon (click on the photo to see Alisa).

But, first we gawk at the mountain, enjoy the vistas from the lake shore. Alisa and Nate try the famous compleatos (can they put anything more on that frankfurter?!! avocado, mayo, mustard, catsup, cheese, etc.). Alisa and I try the refreshing mote.

After a good night´s sleep, we take a long, scenic ride home. We´re now pros at border crossings and we make it through both borders quite smoothly. They are somehow able to find a place to stamp in Alisa´s crowded passport. The map promises a Camino Gravel (unpaved road). A computerized translation (or a bored translator with a sense of humor) translated it to English literally as I walk rubble. It is a dusty ride but the scenic vistas are rewarding. We become picky about which spectacular scene to stop and document.

We pull into Bariloche with plans for making a dinner of garlic bread, stuffed squash and quinoa. We attack the first two with such gusto, there´s no room for the quinoa.

Alas, just one more night in Bariloche for me and then on to Buenos Aires.

Chile sin carne (without meat)

We get to the car rental agency just before the doors open. We want to get an early start. It´s a good thing since it takes us a couple of times (leaving Argentina and then entering Chile) to navigate the process. But, along the way we are treated to some amazing views of the Lake District of northern Patagonia.

It´s a long drive (thanks, Nate, for chauffering) and we keep nourished with peanut butter sandwiches and alfajores (cookies).

We pass through Osorno, Chile and end up in Valdivia. We stay at a cute hostel decorated with a hat collection on their walls. Valdivia has a riverfront with sea lions swimming around the boaters. We stop to watch a mixed doubles volleyball tournament, walk along the river and check out the markets.

We sleep well after a long day and a hearty meal sin carne.

To market to market

After a great night´s rest, I head into the center of Bariloche on the bus with Alisa for her 8 am shift on Monday at Tango Inn hostel. We share a yerba mate (herbal tea served in a gourd) and scrambled eggs with other staff and hostel guests. Then, I set out to explore the town.

Bariloche is a cute tourist town which must be bustling in the winter during ski season. Now, during the summer months the tourists seem to like the chocolate shops and souvenir shops. The lake is beautiful; the town is quaint with its Saint Bernard dogs posing for photo ops and a few pesos.

I hunt through the bookstore looking for a Argentinean vegetarian cookbook. But, of course, Argentinean vegetarian is an oxymoron, so no luck there. But, I manage to snag the obligatory telephone booth photo with Nate and Alisa in them.

After a nice dinner of quesadillas, homemade salsa and guacamole from veggies bought at the market two doors down from Alisa and Nate´s apartment, we make plans to visit El Bolson where there is an artisans´market on Tuesdays.

We wake up early on Tuesday, but can´t get seats on the 9:30 bus but are lucky to get on the 11:00 bus. It´s packed for the two-hour drive. We are rewarded with magnificient views of northern Patagonia and arrive in lively El Bolson.

At the bus station, we wait on line and, luckily, we're able to buy tickets for the few last seats on the 6:50 return bus. In between, we have a full day to enjoy the market; Nate got a haircut; we found a natural food store; I bought a beautiful mate gourd and bombilla (see photo).

The market kept us occupied checking out the artisan crafts and foods.

For dinner, we made delicious empanadas and a hearty soup.

On Wednesday, we're off to Chile.

PRW

Beautiful Bariloche

Eleven hours and this has to be the quietest plane ride that I've ever had. No routy tour groups. No fussy toddlers. No cranky babies.

Just as I doze off for my night's slumber on the way from NY to Buenos Aires, I hear an announcement that there is an electrical problem on the aircraft.

Too late for me to process that info, I'm nearly in dreamland. But, wait, my conscious self fights back -- isn't an electrical problem something we don't want on an airplane? !! But, sleep wins over rational thought. I'm out like a lamp.

When I do awake after a deep sleep, it's still eerily quiet. I soon discover the consequences of the "electrical problem" on the aircraft -- no cabin lights. So, all the books that I lugged on board for the long flight will remain unopened, the Sudoku and crossword puzzles will remain unsolved. Just lots of time to contemplate the quiet.

I arrive in BA early. I had allowed plenty of time to transfer to the domestic airport. So, I ignore the advice that I had been given to take a taxi and decide to venture there via bus. I get through customs in a breeze, am able to make myself understood well enough to get to an ATM and purchase my bus ticket to Newbery airport.

I still have an hour-and-half wait for the next bus. This gives me time enough to finish Dreams from my Father. I get so engrossed in President Obama's narrative of his trip to Kenya. So engrossed that when someone stops to chat I forget where I am. At first, I don't understand. Oh, wait, he's speaking Spanish. I'm not in Africa. I can understand.

The flight to Bariloche was also packed but this time with lots of active kiddies and cute babies. No matter; it's just a two-hour hop. And, as soon as I get to the baggage area, I see Alisa and Nate through the glass partition. How wonderful! How happy I am to be here with them.

We have a short taxi ride to Bariloche, then hop on a bus for a walk home (thanks, Nate and Alisa for carrying my bags), terrific homemade pizza dinner (oops, I forgot to take photos), and then a nice night's sleep.

I'll post photos later. It's just great to be here.

Perfectly Rested Well-fed

Leaving on a jet plane...

My bags are packed and I'm ready to go...

OK, here it is -- I'm a bit clueless about Argentina. When I tell people I'm going to Argentina, everyone seems to have a thought to share -- great tango, the best gelato, spectacular scenery, the charming and/or insufferable Buenos Aireans, the excellent exchange rate, wine, leather products, etc.

But, the truth is, I'm really just not that into Argentina. I am very much into going to visit Alisa and Nate. Of course, I'm not complaining about having to go to Argentina. And, I'm very excited to be able to experience the wonderful things there.

Anyway, I have an 11-hour flight ahead of me to read my guide book and get really psyched about all that I'm about to see. No need for me to get psyched about this trip, however. I'm there already.

So, dreaming about the days to come ...

PRW