plane to San Jose...and I am accidentally speaking Spanish to
everyone. I am excited to get home, eat refried beans and buy our
Christmas tree. Am typing from the phone, what a wonderful adventure.
--
Erin Wheeler
Saturday, December 8, 2007
En Tejas...
Of course the way to the plane was paved with delay. But we are on the
plane to San Jose...and I am accidentally speaking Spanish to
everyone. I am excited to get home, eat refried beans and buy our
Christmas tree. Am typing from the phone, what a wonderful adventure.
plane to San Jose...and I am accidentally speaking Spanish to
everyone. I am excited to get home, eat refried beans and buy our
Christmas tree. Am typing from the phone, what a wonderful adventure.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Salimos
Estoy triste.
We are all packed up, received our deposit back for the apartment and are just waiting for the taxi. More to come, but we are all sad.
We are all packed up, received our deposit back for the apartment and are just waiting for the taxi. More to come, but we are all sad.
Jueves.
Thursday Steve and Paco went to the zoo and I walked down the Avenida Santa Fe, looking for Argentine maps and materials to take back to California. We all met up with Marcel and Marilú for lunch at one of the best meals we have ever had here in BA. The restaurant is in Palmero, close to our apartment. Paco ate a plate full of roasted peppers. It was a sight. There is never enough time with Marilú and I could chat with her all day. Alas we had to get Paco to a nap, so Marcleo drove us back to the apartment. Paco immediately passed out and we had to wake him up to dine with Marcos. As usual, Marcos got us out of our Parilla rut and took us to a hip place for dinner. We walked the 4 short blocks. We introduced Marcos to rosé wine (Argentine of course) nice and cold for the warm evening. There was not much on the menu for Paco, but he was thrilled that there were finally pitted black olives to be had in Argentina and ate two bowls. I was enchanted by the fried ravioli and Steve's salmon with lentils was pretty good. Paco and I left the boys to go to bed (stopping for ice cream along the way). But we were so covered in mosquito bites that we could not sleep. It was pretty challenging. Paco also, at one point, fell off of his bed, face down on the floor. Then he woke up about 45 minutes later and tripped over his car seat on his way to me, sleeping on the sofa (Steve’s snoring drove me away). Poor kid.
You know I genuinely thought I would visit more museums this week and not just shop and study Spanish... But after a month of filling my brain with Spanish and seeing new places, I am just tired! And I am enjoying getting to know our new neighborhood. Ah, perhaps next time.
You know I genuinely thought I would visit more museums this week and not just shop and study Spanish... But after a month of filling my brain with Spanish and seeing new places, I am just tired! And I am enjoying getting to know our new neighborhood. Ah, perhaps next time.
Quick Recap Wed: La Caza
I suspect the reason I have not been writing is that I am not keen to leave! Wednesday was the great handbag hunt, where I took the subway to the Calle Florida and started to search for Christmas gifts and The Handbag for Judy. I had no success until Steve and Paco joined me and then we pretty much bought a suitcase full of leather goods. I came back with Paco to the apartment and after a nap we went to a horrible pizza place where everything was wrong. I actually wrote a note explaining why there was no tip.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Martes en la gran ciudad, Hubo lluvia
Tuesday Steve got up early to head to a group class via the subway. Paco and I got a bit of a later start and headed to Patio Bullrich for the great handbag hunt. Judy had given me a task of finding her the perfect Argentine handbag. Handbags here are great, the leather is very fine quality and the selection is amazing. I had an idea of what she wanted, but still spending someone else's money is always a task. Paco sweetly helped me go through all the stores. He identified whether or not it had the pocket on the outside that she liked, we talked about color and shape. But my favorite store, Skin, had left this particular mall. We shared Freddo none the less and then went in search of a park. Unfortunately by now it hard started to rain and I, of course, had declined to bring out jackets in the 80 plus heat! Suddenly the temperature dropped about 15 degrees and we were freezing. The park was wet, but it was just a great park that I let Paco play there for a while until it got too cold.
From there we went in search of a sweatshirt (since I did not want to drag him the 30 minutes back to the apartment) and also did a bit of shopping for Christmas books in Spanish. For $10.00 USD I secured him a new blue sweatshirt with a hood which he wore all day. I also found a nice, simple, wooden nacimiento (nativity scene) that may break on the way back, but was inexpensive and understated (as is the manner in our house when it comes to Catholic things, save for the big giant photo of Steve and I with John Paul II on the wall, but that is another blog all together). We then met Steve at 1PM for lunch at a café near the school . I had some delicious crepes stuffed with spinach, Steve had a tortilla española that he liked very much, and shockingly, Paco had an omelet with ham and cheese. We had a delicious espresso before I hurried off to my lesson. (I still cannot remember the name of the teacher, it is so embarrassing, she was really very good!). For 3 hours I worked on pronunciation the use of the subjunctive in the past. By the end of it my brain was absolute mush. Any word with a “u” or more than one “t” she made me repeat over and over again.
(Steve writing) After leaving Erin at class, Paco was begging to see if the nice park that he and Erin had found earlier was dry enough to play on. It was about 9 blocks away so we started our walk. Since there was actually a light mist in the air, I had put the sun cover up over Paco so I couldn’t see that he fell asleep in the stroller before we got to the park (this kid can sleep anywhere!). I was torn at the park, because he needed a nap but I was hoping it would be later in the day so he wouldn’t be as tired at dinner. I bent over him and said in his ear “we’re at the park, want to play?” He awoke immediately from a deep sleep, his eyes popped open and he jumped out of the stroller at the same time. This was the nicest park we had found in B.A. so far. It appeared to be relatively new, made of wood and metal, and safe in the manner of playgrounds in the U.S. He was having a ball going up and down the slides when another boy who was probably about 5 or 6 came into the playground with his mom. I’m not sure how it happened, but Paco and this boy started playing like long-lost friends… chasing each other around the park, going down the slides, etc. Paco was screaming in Spanish and seemed to communicate just fine! What a joy to watch.
From there, we walked caught a cab back to the apartment where Paco had a quick snack of milk and yogurt and fell asleep in his bed almost immediately.
(Back to Erin)
After class, I crammed in the subway to head back to Palermo. I looked for a cake to take to the delGiovaninos that night and bought a cake, 4 sandwiches de miga, and 3 different kinds of cookies (about 20 in total). I went home, met the boys and we called a cab to go to Belgrano, where the delGiovaninos live. As usual we had a lovely time, chatting half in English and half in Spanish throughout the evening. The first time we went there, we had empanadas and Beatriz had them this time as well. I took it as a gift specifically for me. Beatriz’s little nieta is so sweet, at 5 months Malena (I think that is how it is spelled) is an angel. She fell asleep on me and had nothing but smiles and giggles for all. Sofia and Paco played for a while sweetly, but really, Paco was hyper and Sofia tired, so the peace did not last long. We said good night after keeping everyone up late again. I called Beatriz mi suegra in Argentina. I hope she took it as a compliment...
Earlier, we had receive an email from Perla (the mother of Carolina and Julieta our good Argentine friends in San José, and the mother of a very pregnant Virginia, who lives here in the province) that Virginia was in labor but we could still come over tomorrow (Wed afternoon). I am thinking “seriously” and sent an email back saying, no, I don’t think that is necessary. I had to check with Beatriz and her daughter-in-law Gabriella that there was not some Argentine custom of visiting the house the day the baby arrived!
Thanks to Julieta’s wedding here in June, it is nice to be able to say to the delGiovaninos that we will see them in several months.
From there we went in search of a sweatshirt (since I did not want to drag him the 30 minutes back to the apartment) and also did a bit of shopping for Christmas books in Spanish. For $10.00 USD I secured him a new blue sweatshirt with a hood which he wore all day. I also found a nice, simple, wooden nacimiento (nativity scene) that may break on the way back, but was inexpensive and understated (as is the manner in our house when it comes to Catholic things, save for the big giant photo of Steve and I with John Paul II on the wall, but that is another blog all together). We then met Steve at 1PM for lunch at a café near the school . I had some delicious crepes stuffed with spinach, Steve had a tortilla española that he liked very much, and shockingly, Paco had an omelet with ham and cheese. We had a delicious espresso before I hurried off to my lesson. (I still cannot remember the name of the teacher, it is so embarrassing, she was really very good!). For 3 hours I worked on pronunciation the use of the subjunctive in the past. By the end of it my brain was absolute mush. Any word with a “u” or more than one “t” she made me repeat over and over again.
(Steve writing) After leaving Erin at class, Paco was begging to see if the nice park that he and Erin had found earlier was dry enough to play on. It was about 9 blocks away so we started our walk. Since there was actually a light mist in the air, I had put the sun cover up over Paco so I couldn’t see that he fell asleep in the stroller before we got to the park (this kid can sleep anywhere!). I was torn at the park, because he needed a nap but I was hoping it would be later in the day so he wouldn’t be as tired at dinner. I bent over him and said in his ear “we’re at the park, want to play?” He awoke immediately from a deep sleep, his eyes popped open and he jumped out of the stroller at the same time. This was the nicest park we had found in B.A. so far. It appeared to be relatively new, made of wood and metal, and safe in the manner of playgrounds in the U.S. He was having a ball going up and down the slides when another boy who was probably about 5 or 6 came into the playground with his mom. I’m not sure how it happened, but Paco and this boy started playing like long-lost friends… chasing each other around the park, going down the slides, etc. Paco was screaming in Spanish and seemed to communicate just fine! What a joy to watch.
From there, we walked caught a cab back to the apartment where Paco had a quick snack of milk and yogurt and fell asleep in his bed almost immediately.
(Back to Erin)
After class, I crammed in the subway to head back to Palermo. I looked for a cake to take to the delGiovaninos that night and bought a cake, 4 sandwiches de miga, and 3 different kinds of cookies (about 20 in total). I went home, met the boys and we called a cab to go to Belgrano, where the delGiovaninos live. As usual we had a lovely time, chatting half in English and half in Spanish throughout the evening. The first time we went there, we had empanadas and Beatriz had them this time as well. I took it as a gift specifically for me. Beatriz’s little nieta is so sweet, at 5 months Malena (I think that is how it is spelled) is an angel. She fell asleep on me and had nothing but smiles and giggles for all. Sofia and Paco played for a while sweetly, but really, Paco was hyper and Sofia tired, so the peace did not last long. We said good night after keeping everyone up late again. I called Beatriz mi suegra in Argentina. I hope she took it as a compliment...
Earlier, we had receive an email from Perla (the mother of Carolina and Julieta our good Argentine friends in San José, and the mother of a very pregnant Virginia, who lives here in the province) that Virginia was in labor but we could still come over tomorrow (Wed afternoon). I am thinking “seriously” and sent an email back saying, no, I don’t think that is necessary. I had to check with Beatriz and her daughter-in-law Gabriella that there was not some Argentine custom of visiting the house the day the baby arrived!
Thanks to Julieta’s wedding here in June, it is nice to be able to say to the delGiovaninos that we will see them in several months.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Hace calor!
What a day. Full, hot, fun.
I woke up early and walked the 30 blocks to school to start a new day of Spanish education. The other schools had recommended a school here in Buenos Aires that is between Recoleta (where we have stayed in the past) and the Micro Centro. I immediately liked the morning teacher, Annabella. I learned more in the 2 hours with her than in the 4 days in Bariloche! The school in general is more formal, and the director was clear there would be no English with me. In fact, we were chatting after class and I switched to English, but she repeatedly answered in Castellano.
My walk was great, everyone headed to work and the streets filled with cars. (I tried to get up early to do the same, today but I was just too tired). I got to the school 10 minutes early, just enough time for a quick espresso at the corner café. However, the temperature was climbing and I was sweaty.
After 2 hours with Annabella, Steve and Paco met me and Steve and I traded Paco. They had taken the subway and were roasting in the heat. Paco was overtired and hungry and not on his best behavior. So a quick trip to McDonalds (again, I know, but McDonalds has its place on a hot, humid day with a hungry child). And we ate the huge, crisp, cold apples before Paco ate his Cajita Feliz.
Paco and I then took the subway back, which was fast and great. And compared to London, surprisingly smooth. It is only 70 centavos (about a quarter) so a bargain for sure. We returned to the apartment, Paco had some milk while I ate lunch (leftover sandwiches de miga) and then he passed out cold. Unfortunately, he needed more sleep than we had time to take the train, so we had to take a cab back to the school to trade parenting once again. The nice taxi driver and I had a hilarious conversation about seatbelts. I had to dig them out of the seat (and no car seat, you know I am loving that). He said no one ever uses them (but he was wearing one) even though it is now the law. I noticed when we got out of the car, he stuffed the belts back down.
The afternoon had a different teacher, whose name I cannot remember. She was good for me, exhausting, but good and she really worked on my pronunciation (I keep dropping “t”s and am not sounding out my “o” and “u” sounds. When I left it was rush hour and the Subte was just packed. People crammed in tight. I was surprised by how many people were not sweating! It must be something in the Argentine blood. Still, I had to say it was better than the London Underground, no delays, and I easily stood in the middle without something to which to hold for stability.
I arrived at the apartment and the boys were vegging out on this hot day after going to the park. We all needed a quick shower and we called a cab at 7:20 to meet some old family friends, the Loebs for dinner. I had spoken to Carola Loeb earlier in the day and had missed a key element of the directions! So we got out of the cab where we thought the restaurant was, and of course, were about 10 miles off. She had said the word “la Provincia” and I had missed it. Steve, too had looked the place up online and found a map that said it was about 12 blocks from where the apartment is, the directions were correct online but not the map. (http://www.guiaoleo.com.ar/detail.php?ID=2234) The provincia is the area surrounding the city of Buenos Aires and those that live in the city act like it is Uruguay. We found a cab company that we knew (never hail a random cab here, it is scary) and booked out to the restaurant in Olivos. I was thinking we were headed out to the country, but no, 20 minutes later, there we were. It was the equivalent of downtown versus Fair Oaks and Watt in Sacramento. Steve laughed when he called Mrs. Loeb to say we were misplaced and she sounded like Steve’s mom as she said “What? You are in the city!!!”
The drive was worth it. La Palmera is a nice restaurant with good Argentine food that also has an enclosed playground for kids. Raúl Loeb is a supposed cousin of Miguel’s, but I have never figured out how they are actually related. (Raúl is actually in Córdoba right now and the family is joining him this weekend.) Their son Martín and his family were at the restaurant with Raúl‘s wife. And they had strategically picked the table closet to the access door to keep an eye on the kids. Paco never ate, he was outside the entire time. It was fantastic. Mariana, Martín’s wife and I got on very well and Steve and Martín picked up where they left off 20 years ago. We kept everyone out too late but it was a wonderful evening. Paco’s face was red and sweaty from the heat. It was 12:30 before Paco was in bed.
On the way to Olivos, I received two phone calls, one from Perla, the mother of my friends Carolina and Julieta Pomares, and the other from Beatriz. Both making plans for the week. It is why we need a week in Buenos Aires, so catch up with everyone! I need to find time to shop, though…
It just started to rain, so no park. Need to find a new activity for Pdub.
Love, Erin
I woke up early and walked the 30 blocks to school to start a new day of Spanish education. The other schools had recommended a school here in Buenos Aires that is between Recoleta (where we have stayed in the past) and the Micro Centro. I immediately liked the morning teacher, Annabella. I learned more in the 2 hours with her than in the 4 days in Bariloche! The school in general is more formal, and the director was clear there would be no English with me. In fact, we were chatting after class and I switched to English, but she repeatedly answered in Castellano.
My walk was great, everyone headed to work and the streets filled with cars. (I tried to get up early to do the same, today but I was just too tired). I got to the school 10 minutes early, just enough time for a quick espresso at the corner café. However, the temperature was climbing and I was sweaty.
After 2 hours with Annabella, Steve and Paco met me and Steve and I traded Paco. They had taken the subway and were roasting in the heat. Paco was overtired and hungry and not on his best behavior. So a quick trip to McDonalds (again, I know, but McDonalds has its place on a hot, humid day with a hungry child). And we ate the huge, crisp, cold apples before Paco ate his Cajita Feliz.
Paco and I then took the subway back, which was fast and great. And compared to London, surprisingly smooth. It is only 70 centavos (about a quarter) so a bargain for sure. We returned to the apartment, Paco had some milk while I ate lunch (leftover sandwiches de miga) and then he passed out cold. Unfortunately, he needed more sleep than we had time to take the train, so we had to take a cab back to the school to trade parenting once again. The nice taxi driver and I had a hilarious conversation about seatbelts. I had to dig them out of the seat (and no car seat, you know I am loving that). He said no one ever uses them (but he was wearing one) even though it is now the law. I noticed when we got out of the car, he stuffed the belts back down.
The afternoon had a different teacher, whose name I cannot remember. She was good for me, exhausting, but good and she really worked on my pronunciation (I keep dropping “t”s and am not sounding out my “o” and “u” sounds. When I left it was rush hour and the Subte was just packed. People crammed in tight. I was surprised by how many people were not sweating! It must be something in the Argentine blood. Still, I had to say it was better than the London Underground, no delays, and I easily stood in the middle without something to which to hold for stability.
I arrived at the apartment and the boys were vegging out on this hot day after going to the park. We all needed a quick shower and we called a cab at 7:20 to meet some old family friends, the Loebs for dinner. I had spoken to Carola Loeb earlier in the day and had missed a key element of the directions! So we got out of the cab where we thought the restaurant was, and of course, were about 10 miles off. She had said the word “la Provincia” and I had missed it. Steve, too had looked the place up online and found a map that said it was about 12 blocks from where the apartment is, the directions were correct online but not the map. (http://www.guiaoleo.com.ar/detail.php?ID=2234) The provincia is the area surrounding the city of Buenos Aires and those that live in the city act like it is Uruguay. We found a cab company that we knew (never hail a random cab here, it is scary) and booked out to the restaurant in Olivos. I was thinking we were headed out to the country, but no, 20 minutes later, there we were. It was the equivalent of downtown versus Fair Oaks and Watt in Sacramento. Steve laughed when he called Mrs. Loeb to say we were misplaced and she sounded like Steve’s mom as she said “What? You are in the city!!!”
The drive was worth it. La Palmera is a nice restaurant with good Argentine food that also has an enclosed playground for kids. Raúl Loeb is a supposed cousin of Miguel’s, but I have never figured out how they are actually related. (Raúl is actually in Córdoba right now and the family is joining him this weekend.) Their son Martín and his family were at the restaurant with Raúl‘s wife. And they had strategically picked the table closet to the access door to keep an eye on the kids. Paco never ate, he was outside the entire time. It was fantastic. Mariana, Martín’s wife and I got on very well and Steve and Martín picked up where they left off 20 years ago. We kept everyone out too late but it was a wonderful evening. Paco’s face was red and sweaty from the heat. It was 12:30 before Paco was in bed.
On the way to Olivos, I received two phone calls, one from Perla, the mother of my friends Carolina and Julieta Pomares, and the other from Beatriz. Both making plans for the week. It is why we need a week in Buenos Aires, so catch up with everyone! I need to find time to shop, though…
It just started to rain, so no park. Need to find a new activity for Pdub.
Love, Erin
Un Domingo en la Ciudad
Yesterday we woke up late, I went to mass (finally, my first time this trip, I was too lazy to find the times in the other cities) where I understood little. Mass was mostly filled with older women, and the occasional husband looking bored. I forgot it was Christmas time until I thought to myself, why is the priest wearing purple? It is so hot outside.
I met the boys and we went in search of a park where his highness might roam free. We found several, the first one in the shade did not have much grass, and the 2nd had lots of grass, but we were all almost fainting in the heat and the humidity. The heat, by California standards is not so bad, but the humidity means there is never a breeze.
From there, we headed to one of the malls where we knew there was a McDonalds. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea and the place was just packed. Any respite from the heat was surpassed by the crowds in the mall. That did not, however, inhibit me from buying a nice leather purse on sale!
We walked back the 10 blocks on busy Avenida Santa Fe. We stopped in a bakery for some sandwiches and treats for later, but most of the stores on the street were shut for Sunday. After a siesta, no one really wanted to do anything. It was less hot in the later afternoon, but Steve ordered pizza and empanadas and we had a quiet day.
All in all, it was nice to relax!
I met the boys and we went in search of a park where his highness might roam free. We found several, the first one in the shade did not have much grass, and the 2nd had lots of grass, but we were all almost fainting in the heat and the humidity. The heat, by California standards is not so bad, but the humidity means there is never a breeze.
From there, we headed to one of the malls where we knew there was a McDonalds. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea and the place was just packed. Any respite from the heat was surpassed by the crowds in the mall. That did not, however, inhibit me from buying a nice leather purse on sale!
We walked back the 10 blocks on busy Avenida Santa Fe. We stopped in a bakery for some sandwiches and treats for later, but most of the stores on the street were shut for Sunday. After a siesta, no one really wanted to do anything. It was less hot in the later afternoon, but Steve ordered pizza and empanadas and we had a quiet day.
All in all, it was nice to relax!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Un Departmento en Palermo
Hola. Llegamos en BA y esparamos por un rato (un rato largo) para neustras maletas. Steve found the remis taxi stand with our name on it and a very nice Porteño named Walter (whose Spanish I could barely understand) took us to our apartment in the neighborhood of Palermo.
The apartment, which Steve found online, is in a great location. Close to the zoo and the Plaza Italia, and in a section of BA that Steve and I have both been to the neighborhood a couple of times, but never spent any time getting to know.
Paco had taken a 3-hr nap on the plane and was all full of life when we arrived. He chatted with Walter in Castellano (I keep forgetting to point out here, Spanish is called “castellano”). On the drive in, we drove by several verdulerías, or vegetable markets, and all 4 of us in the car looked for cucumber. Walter proudly announced, “Ahí está.“ None of us have had much in the name of vegetables or fruit since leaving Bariloche. No one was here to let us into the apartment, so while Steve and Walter waited, Paco and I walked the half block to the verdulería on the corner. We bought cucumber, carrots, strawberries and peaches. And oh my goodness, all were delicious! By the time we came back, Steve and the guys from the agency (and Walter) were loading our luggage into the apartment. The apartment is just huge. Paco was thrilled to have his own room and immediately we all seemed to have our tired, stinky spirits lifted. Paco proceeded to put all of the fruit into the fridge and helped me core the strawberries.
After an hour or so, we decided to see what time the grocery store closes and stopped at a café called El Pengüino de Palermo for dinner. It was fine, we had a chorizo, I had a very blue cheese 4-cheese Sorrento pasta (filled with ham and cheese, of course) and Paco had a omelet (ham and cheese). Steve had a pizza with anchovies that was so strong I could not eat it. The amazing thing is that Paco ordered for himself in Castellano and seemed to have lost all of his shyness. It was quite strange and Steve and I wondered if we swapped children in Ushuaia. He also kept kissing me all during dinner.
After dinner, we headed to Disco, a large supermarket to get some things for the week. Unfortunately, during the excursion, Paco’s sensitive constitution could not handle the sudden change in diet (the peaches were really, really good and we overdid it) and I had to carry him back to the apartment for a bath. Also, the Laundromats are not open on Sundays, so I ended up doing a bit of laundry as well. But both he and I were both happy to have our own space to take care of things.
Steve brought home he groceries and helado from the corner place. We sat around and chatted before getting Paco to sleep. Paco kept asking us what we wanted to do tomorrow. As much as I miss Ushuaia already, it is nice to be in a big city where everything is at your fingertips and I don’t feel like such a tourist.
I have never been to Argentina in the summer and it is warm and sticky. I have always thought of BA as very cosmopolitan and have never seen people wear shorts. Even when we were here 3 weeks ago, I was wearing Capri pants and felt out of place. But it is as if Mother Nature took off layers of clothing from everyone in the city. Everyone is in tank tops and t-shirts, short skirts and shorts. Steve is shocked at the shorts. Everyone is in sandals or flip flops.
I took all of our dirty clothes and the pile was rather huge. Fortunately, much of our hot weather stuff is clean, so I only had to wash a few things by hand. I put all the fleece and rain stuff in the corner and it is quite a large mass of things barely worn. There is a window Air Conditioner that is doing its best to cool down the apartment, that and the nice Trapiche wine are making for a nice quiet evening!
Love, Erin
The apartment, which Steve found online, is in a great location. Close to the zoo and the Plaza Italia, and in a section of BA that Steve and I have both been to the neighborhood a couple of times, but never spent any time getting to know.
Paco had taken a 3-hr nap on the plane and was all full of life when we arrived. He chatted with Walter in Castellano (I keep forgetting to point out here, Spanish is called “castellano”). On the drive in, we drove by several verdulerías, or vegetable markets, and all 4 of us in the car looked for cucumber. Walter proudly announced, “Ahí está.“ None of us have had much in the name of vegetables or fruit since leaving Bariloche. No one was here to let us into the apartment, so while Steve and Walter waited, Paco and I walked the half block to the verdulería on the corner. We bought cucumber, carrots, strawberries and peaches. And oh my goodness, all were delicious! By the time we came back, Steve and the guys from the agency (and Walter) were loading our luggage into the apartment. The apartment is just huge. Paco was thrilled to have his own room and immediately we all seemed to have our tired, stinky spirits lifted. Paco proceeded to put all of the fruit into the fridge and helped me core the strawberries.
After an hour or so, we decided to see what time the grocery store closes and stopped at a café called El Pengüino de Palermo for dinner. It was fine, we had a chorizo, I had a very blue cheese 4-cheese Sorrento pasta (filled with ham and cheese, of course) and Paco had a omelet (ham and cheese). Steve had a pizza with anchovies that was so strong I could not eat it. The amazing thing is that Paco ordered for himself in Castellano and seemed to have lost all of his shyness. It was quite strange and Steve and I wondered if we swapped children in Ushuaia. He also kept kissing me all during dinner.
After dinner, we headed to Disco, a large supermarket to get some things for the week. Unfortunately, during the excursion, Paco’s sensitive constitution could not handle the sudden change in diet (the peaches were really, really good and we overdid it) and I had to carry him back to the apartment for a bath. Also, the Laundromats are not open on Sundays, so I ended up doing a bit of laundry as well. But both he and I were both happy to have our own space to take care of things.
Steve brought home he groceries and helado from the corner place. We sat around and chatted before getting Paco to sleep. Paco kept asking us what we wanted to do tomorrow. As much as I miss Ushuaia already, it is nice to be in a big city where everything is at your fingertips and I don’t feel like such a tourist.
I have never been to Argentina in the summer and it is warm and sticky. I have always thought of BA as very cosmopolitan and have never seen people wear shorts. Even when we were here 3 weeks ago, I was wearing Capri pants and felt out of place. But it is as if Mother Nature took off layers of clothing from everyone in the city. Everyone is in tank tops and t-shirts, short skirts and shorts. Steve is shocked at the shorts. Everyone is in sandals or flip flops.
I took all of our dirty clothes and the pile was rather huge. Fortunately, much of our hot weather stuff is clean, so I only had to wash a few things by hand. I put all the fleece and rain stuff in the corner and it is quite a large mass of things barely worn. There is a window Air Conditioner that is doing its best to cool down the apartment, that and the nice Trapiche wine are making for a nice quiet evening!
Love, Erin
La Ultima Cena enTierra del Fuego
I cannot remember where Steve left off yesterday. So, we checked out the sled dogs, which were actually a little sad since they were each chained to their doghouse. From there we headed back to Macondo, our hotel, and had a quick rest before heading out to return the rental car to Leonardo. We did our last minute end of the world shopping, but we were increasingly tired and Paco was increasingly loud, so we thought we should hit an early dinner (bummer, since I never got my fin del mundo hat). We headed to “Gustino“, a place in one of the bigger hotels that is run by a local wine distributor.
Side note: I have not managed Paco’s naps well this week and as a result dinners have been difficult. It is my own fault, one would think I would know by now. Bariloche and El Calafate were fantastic for his schedule, but since then the siesta and the late dinners have been very tough. Mostly, I keep forgetting to be even stricter than I am at home. I think it is hard to stop everything so your kid can nap at the hotel, but really, that is what we should have done. We should have just kept driving after we left the dogs so he could have taken another short nap. But Steve and I were both anxious to get back, turn the car in and get some last minute things. As a result we paid for it with a grouchy whiny child. We now call this version of our offspring, “Seniorito Vino” since neither Steve nor I can remember the adjective for “whiny” in Spanish.
So we headed to “Gustino”, a nice wine bar that was recommended in the tour book. While the menu was perfect for me and Steve (stuffed with fish) for Paco it was a struggle to find something. We whipped out the iPod and ordered a bottle of cold viognier and basically turned our child into a zombie so we could have one evening meal in peace (the lunchtime meals have been great). I had the king crab (a regional specialty) appetizer and Steve had the 3 tastes of the region: a marinated trout that was, at that point, the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, the local muscles and the crab as well. Paco had broccoli and cheese of which he ate a bit. But by now he was so tired (despite sleeping in the car a decent amount) that nothing could do right. The appetizer went well, though, thanks to “Arthur” on the iPod (the first time we have let him watch at the table.) and the fish with the viognier was delicious. We had ordered Paco the pork loin at his request and it came simple and yummy. However, Srito Vino had changed his mind to beef and after a tantrum (“I wanted carne de res!”) he and I went outside for a break. We saw a pub up the street and I promised him a hamburger (which he has not liked in Tierra del Fuego) if he could just let us eat in peace for a few minutes.
We came back and Steve was enjoying his trout and talking to the Americans, Ralph and Steve, at the table next to us. Steven from Portland had joked that it was ok to be near whiny Paco because we were almost finished. I liked the frankness. Our waiter, a lovely man from Cordoba, put in an order for baked sliced potatoes for Pdub. I had ordered salmon ravioli, that is now the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Despite having a cranky Paco on my lap, with his iPod and shoveling the food into my mouth, it was just incredible. I handed P over to a now finished Steve and ate and drank my wine and we continued to chat with Ralph and Steve who were friends from Portland, OR and on their way to Antarctica (again, so jealous).
A side note on my Spanish: People are so kind about us practicing. If there is something that needs clarification, they may speak English, but really, it is mostly Spanish with the people, even in touristy Ushuaia. That said, our waiter from Cordoba did not speak much English. He had gone into a long explanation of the olive oils for bread in Spanish, we had had a huge discussion of the ravioli (his favorite and I can see why). When the dudes from Portland sat down, he did not give him this rather heartfelt discussion of the oils. And the olive oil he had recommended was quite astounding. I asked the waiter why and he said, “I cannot explain in in English.” As I said before, I don’t think I am speaking particularly well, but my level of understanding I think has improved.
Paco was exhausted as was I (and the potatoes were taking forever) and I decided to leave Steve with the Portland guys to enjoy at least one evening on his month long vacation without having to juggle Paco. So we left him and started to head to the pub. Thankfully, Paco had changed his mind and was up for salami and cheese at the hotel. Our hotel is 3 blocks up a straight, SF style hill and then another 4 blocks from the restaurant. We have been taking taxis, but the cool stormy air just felt so good. Paco seemed to get a 2nd wind. He then helped me carry the stroller up the 3 blocks and somehow found his sweetness. When we arrived at the hotel, the clerk Carolina was waiting with her camera to take a photo of our impy. He shockingly obliged and then took her photo several times. Carolina and I got on well and we chatted for a long time before I got Paco to the room for his late night snack. Steve arrived as the brushing teeth battle started. We managed to get P to bed, but it was 11:30 at the end of the day. When will I learn?
Today, Saturday, we are on the plane for Buenos Aires. The weather is suddenly cold and rainy, which is more appropriate for Ushuaia. I joked with Aerolineas Argentina that my suitcase was full of clothes I had not worn. Paco was on full Srto Vino this AM at the hotel and I just held strong and was basically this mean mom with a timer and a leftover fractura (baked good) from yesterday (that he was not allowed to touch until the whining ceased for 5 minutes straight). Finally, after a morning of whine, Paco stopped whining. It was a miracle. I heard the angles singing in my ears. Since then, he has been an lovebug and is asleep next to me on the plane right now. For my child, routine and firmness are the path to amiability.
The security line for the flight was massive as there were two flights leaving at the same time. One of the large Antarctic cruise ships returned to harbor this morning and the flights were filled with people having just returned from their Antarctic excursions (you could tell by all the logo wear) who were waiting for their flight to Santiago, Chile and Buenos Aires. It is easy for us to forget what a crazy adventure we are on when you see these people who have just been to the Antarctic continent. Paco was invigorated by the cold, and by my new found firmness. But I could see Steve get edgy as it came time to board. Because really, the adventure part is at an end. We have been further than I ever thought I would drag my child. I certainly never thought I would get to Tierra del Fuego and want to hop a ship (and the reduced price of $4000.00) to Antarctica (When Steve joked about moving our flight to CA up, I was thinking, ooooooh, he could take Paco and I could go to Antarctica).
I think Steve is torn between wishing our flight home were tomorrow and wishing we were on a plane to El Calafate or Bariloche instead. After the fresh cool air here it is hard to get excited about hot, humid and polluted BA. Paco even teased us that he did not want to go home ever (ha! The child is lying, but I appreciate the effort). As for me, I feel as though I have just begun. I keep re-planning the trip in my head. With more notice (because I was not sure we would go until about 2 weeks prior) what would I do differently? Now that I know more, how would I plan it? I think if we ever come back to Tierra del Fuego it is more than a decade away. But at least now I know where to get the best pasta I have ever had.
My main regret is not taking photos of the random people we met along the way. The waiters, the hotel clerks, the teachers. The culture outside of BA is so different, so relaxed and welcoming.
But then, I am pretty excited to take Paco to McDonalds, and to get a decent espresso. However, I was very sad to leave Patagonia. I have never thought of myself as a small town person, but it is easy to imagine the café I could open, or the job in a hotel I might get, just to stay immersed in this rich region and finally get the hang of the subjunctive tense..
More from Buenos Aires.
Side note: I have not managed Paco’s naps well this week and as a result dinners have been difficult. It is my own fault, one would think I would know by now. Bariloche and El Calafate were fantastic for his schedule, but since then the siesta and the late dinners have been very tough. Mostly, I keep forgetting to be even stricter than I am at home. I think it is hard to stop everything so your kid can nap at the hotel, but really, that is what we should have done. We should have just kept driving after we left the dogs so he could have taken another short nap. But Steve and I were both anxious to get back, turn the car in and get some last minute things. As a result we paid for it with a grouchy whiny child. We now call this version of our offspring, “Seniorito Vino” since neither Steve nor I can remember the adjective for “whiny” in Spanish.
So we headed to “Gustino”, a nice wine bar that was recommended in the tour book. While the menu was perfect for me and Steve (stuffed with fish) for Paco it was a struggle to find something. We whipped out the iPod and ordered a bottle of cold viognier and basically turned our child into a zombie so we could have one evening meal in peace (the lunchtime meals have been great). I had the king crab (a regional specialty) appetizer and Steve had the 3 tastes of the region: a marinated trout that was, at that point, the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, the local muscles and the crab as well. Paco had broccoli and cheese of which he ate a bit. But by now he was so tired (despite sleeping in the car a decent amount) that nothing could do right. The appetizer went well, though, thanks to “Arthur” on the iPod (the first time we have let him watch at the table.) and the fish with the viognier was delicious. We had ordered Paco the pork loin at his request and it came simple and yummy. However, Srito Vino had changed his mind to beef and after a tantrum (“I wanted carne de res!”) he and I went outside for a break. We saw a pub up the street and I promised him a hamburger (which he has not liked in Tierra del Fuego) if he could just let us eat in peace for a few minutes.
We came back and Steve was enjoying his trout and talking to the Americans, Ralph and Steve, at the table next to us. Steven from Portland had joked that it was ok to be near whiny Paco because we were almost finished. I liked the frankness. Our waiter, a lovely man from Cordoba, put in an order for baked sliced potatoes for Pdub. I had ordered salmon ravioli, that is now the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Despite having a cranky Paco on my lap, with his iPod and shoveling the food into my mouth, it was just incredible. I handed P over to a now finished Steve and ate and drank my wine and we continued to chat with Ralph and Steve who were friends from Portland, OR and on their way to Antarctica (again, so jealous).
A side note on my Spanish: People are so kind about us practicing. If there is something that needs clarification, they may speak English, but really, it is mostly Spanish with the people, even in touristy Ushuaia. That said, our waiter from Cordoba did not speak much English. He had gone into a long explanation of the olive oils for bread in Spanish, we had had a huge discussion of the ravioli (his favorite and I can see why). When the dudes from Portland sat down, he did not give him this rather heartfelt discussion of the oils. And the olive oil he had recommended was quite astounding. I asked the waiter why and he said, “I cannot explain in in English.” As I said before, I don’t think I am speaking particularly well, but my level of understanding I think has improved.
Paco was exhausted as was I (and the potatoes were taking forever) and I decided to leave Steve with the Portland guys to enjoy at least one evening on his month long vacation without having to juggle Paco. So we left him and started to head to the pub. Thankfully, Paco had changed his mind and was up for salami and cheese at the hotel. Our hotel is 3 blocks up a straight, SF style hill and then another 4 blocks from the restaurant. We have been taking taxis, but the cool stormy air just felt so good. Paco seemed to get a 2nd wind. He then helped me carry the stroller up the 3 blocks and somehow found his sweetness. When we arrived at the hotel, the clerk Carolina was waiting with her camera to take a photo of our impy. He shockingly obliged and then took her photo several times. Carolina and I got on well and we chatted for a long time before I got Paco to the room for his late night snack. Steve arrived as the brushing teeth battle started. We managed to get P to bed, but it was 11:30 at the end of the day. When will I learn?
Today, Saturday, we are on the plane for Buenos Aires. The weather is suddenly cold and rainy, which is more appropriate for Ushuaia. I joked with Aerolineas Argentina that my suitcase was full of clothes I had not worn. Paco was on full Srto Vino this AM at the hotel and I just held strong and was basically this mean mom with a timer and a leftover fractura (baked good) from yesterday (that he was not allowed to touch until the whining ceased for 5 minutes straight). Finally, after a morning of whine, Paco stopped whining. It was a miracle. I heard the angles singing in my ears. Since then, he has been an lovebug and is asleep next to me on the plane right now. For my child, routine and firmness are the path to amiability.
The security line for the flight was massive as there were two flights leaving at the same time. One of the large Antarctic cruise ships returned to harbor this morning and the flights were filled with people having just returned from their Antarctic excursions (you could tell by all the logo wear) who were waiting for their flight to Santiago, Chile and Buenos Aires. It is easy for us to forget what a crazy adventure we are on when you see these people who have just been to the Antarctic continent. Paco was invigorated by the cold, and by my new found firmness. But I could see Steve get edgy as it came time to board. Because really, the adventure part is at an end. We have been further than I ever thought I would drag my child. I certainly never thought I would get to Tierra del Fuego and want to hop a ship (and the reduced price of $4000.00) to Antarctica (When Steve joked about moving our flight to CA up, I was thinking, ooooooh, he could take Paco and I could go to Antarctica).
I think Steve is torn between wishing our flight home were tomorrow and wishing we were on a plane to El Calafate or Bariloche instead. After the fresh cool air here it is hard to get excited about hot, humid and polluted BA. Paco even teased us that he did not want to go home ever (ha! The child is lying, but I appreciate the effort). As for me, I feel as though I have just begun. I keep re-planning the trip in my head. With more notice (because I was not sure we would go until about 2 weeks prior) what would I do differently? Now that I know more, how would I plan it? I think if we ever come back to Tierra del Fuego it is more than a decade away. But at least now I know where to get the best pasta I have ever had.
My main regret is not taking photos of the random people we met along the way. The waiters, the hotel clerks, the teachers. The culture outside of BA is so different, so relaxed and welcoming.
But then, I am pretty excited to take Paco to McDonalds, and to get a decent espresso. However, I was very sad to leave Patagonia. I have never thought of myself as a small town person, but it is easy to imagine the café I could open, or the job in a hotel I might get, just to stay immersed in this rich region and finally get the hang of the subjunctive tense..
More from Buenos Aires.
Friday, November 30, 2007
In search of el fin del mundo
(Steve posting) Erin mentioned yesterday that we decided to rent a car to go for a drive today. Let me explain what really happened. We were at the tour company looking for information about boat trips on the Beagle Straight. The guy at the touring company suggested a tour on a catamaran similar to the one we took in El Calafate. The highlight would be a stop at a penguin reserve. We mentioned that we really enjoyed the penguin reserve at Punto Tombo, at which time he told us that in all honesty, having seen Punto Tombo we would be bored with the local penguinera which is home to much fewer birds and where one can only look from the boat. He then asked if we were interested in driving at which point, Erin's ears perked up. He showed us a map of the area and when we saw that one could actually drive further East and South to the very end of Argentina Rt. 1 (the Panamerican highway, Rt. 3, ends in Ushuaia) Erin decided that we needed to drive to the actual end of the road.
The travel guy suggested a local rental company and called to check on availability for us... no problem at all. He wouldn't accept any payment for his assistance even though he had spent nearly 30 minutes chatting with us about different options. He gave us directions to the rental place... maybe all of 12 blocks away. We decided to walk there to fill out the paperwork for the car before taking a taxi out to the Tren Del Fin Del Mundo (the train at the end of the world).
Leonardo at the rental place seemed genuinely excited about the roads in the area and told us about things to see along the way, including restaurants, a place that raises Siberian Huskies for sled dogs, and a town about 110 km North, Tolhuin, that doesn't offer much but does sit at the end of a large lake and features a well-reknowned 24 hour bakery. Rt. 1, the real end of the road, is reached after a 30 mile drive North on the Panamerican Highway. The Panamerican is actually a very nice paved road. Rt. 1 is all dirt and is used primarily to reach some outlying Estancias (sheep ranches), including Estancia Harborton, the first such settlement in Tierra Del Fuego started by some English missionaries and still owned by the sixth generation of the family. It features tours, a restaurant, and a museum.
So we filled out the paperwork with Leonardo and made arrangements to pick up the car that evening at 8, so we could get an early start in the morning.
We didn't get a particularly early start today as we decided that we all needed some rest. We did hit the road about 9. It rained last night but today we awoke to beautiful blue skies. It was colder and windier, but still nice at about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. We decided to take the drive on Rt. 1 first as the weather was nice but the forecast called for rain later in the day. Our timing was perfect. The road was actually a joy... smoother and better maintained than the gravel mess out to Punto Tombo. The scenery was just spectacular as we were high into the Andes then down into valleys and back out to the Beagle Straight. We got to the Estancia and were the only ones there save for a van full of tourists who were taking a boat out of the Estancia to see the penguin reserve (this is the closest point on land from which one can visit the reserve). We just decided to enjoy the scenery and take some photos. We wandered into a little tea room which is placed in the original house from the early 1800s. The women working in the cafe went nuts for Paco and gave him a free cookie and cold milk (a real treat as fresh milk has actually been difficult to find as Paco won't touch the UHT stuff) as Erin and I enjoyed some tea and delicious homemade cake.
Paco has discovered the joy of photography and has taken ownership of one of our older digital cameras that we brought with us. He was walking around taking pictures of everything in the place... flowers, cups, tablecloths, you name it.
From Estancia Harborton, you are on a small protected bay looking out onto the mouth of the Beagle Straights and out into open ocean. Behind you are towering snow-covered peaks of the South Eastern most end of the Andes. With the sun out, it was truly a mind-blowing sight.
After spending some time, we decided that Paco could use a nap in the car, where he sleeps like a log, so we hit the dirt back out to Rt. 3 and North to Tolhuin, our other goal for the day. After getting back to Rt. 3, the highway climbs up and over the Andes. There is a scenic overlook at the summit where we could see for hundreds of miles. Tolhuin was shockingly ugly and run down given it's location at the end of a beautiful alpine lake. The bakery seemed to share the role of town center and meeting place and appears to be somewhat famous as the walls were covered with photos of Argentine celebrities who have visited over the years. We found a little restaurant for lunch as well. I think Erin was nervous about eating there since it looked like the roof hadn't been patched since 1975 and the place looked as run down as the rest of the town, but the empanadas were decent.
Afterwards, we saw a small park with swings and some equipment a few blocks away and Paco really needed some time to run around. The park was dedicated to the veterans of the war over the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands) back in 1982. It looked like the last coat of paint on the playground equipemnt was put on shortly after the war, but Paco had fun and the place suddenly became overrun with kids from the local school which had just let out. It was starting to get colder and the rain was coming in, so we got back on the road toward Ushuaia with the goal of stopping to see the sled dog place on the way back. It rained the whole way back over the pass and was drizzling as we went to check out the dogs.
We went to the little gift shop to check it out and the owner insisted on giving Paco a free piece of candy... this seems to be the tradition for him, after the lady on the train yesterday, the girls at the Estacia earlier today, and other places, Argentinians just love to give little kids free treats!
As we got back to Ushuaia the clouds broke and it was sunny when we arrived at the hotel. This is really the only rain we've seen in 3 weeks in Argentina. We have a suitcase filled with clothes for cold weather and rain and we haven't needed it once.
So, there it is, We wanted to drive to the end of the world and we made it about as far as it's possible to go. And it was pretty easy. There were people out on Land Rovers and we made the drive in a rented VW Gol (a tiny little model not sold outside of Latin America, I think).
The travel guy suggested a local rental company and called to check on availability for us... no problem at all. He wouldn't accept any payment for his assistance even though he had spent nearly 30 minutes chatting with us about different options. He gave us directions to the rental place... maybe all of 12 blocks away. We decided to walk there to fill out the paperwork for the car before taking a taxi out to the Tren Del Fin Del Mundo (the train at the end of the world).
Leonardo at the rental place seemed genuinely excited about the roads in the area and told us about things to see along the way, including restaurants, a place that raises Siberian Huskies for sled dogs, and a town about 110 km North, Tolhuin, that doesn't offer much but does sit at the end of a large lake and features a well-reknowned 24 hour bakery. Rt. 1, the real end of the road, is reached after a 30 mile drive North on the Panamerican Highway. The Panamerican is actually a very nice paved road. Rt. 1 is all dirt and is used primarily to reach some outlying Estancias (sheep ranches), including Estancia Harborton, the first such settlement in Tierra Del Fuego started by some English missionaries and still owned by the sixth generation of the family. It features tours, a restaurant, and a museum.
So we filled out the paperwork with Leonardo and made arrangements to pick up the car that evening at 8, so we could get an early start in the morning.
We didn't get a particularly early start today as we decided that we all needed some rest. We did hit the road about 9. It rained last night but today we awoke to beautiful blue skies. It was colder and windier, but still nice at about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. We decided to take the drive on Rt. 1 first as the weather was nice but the forecast called for rain later in the day. Our timing was perfect. The road was actually a joy... smoother and better maintained than the gravel mess out to Punto Tombo. The scenery was just spectacular as we were high into the Andes then down into valleys and back out to the Beagle Straight. We got to the Estancia and were the only ones there save for a van full of tourists who were taking a boat out of the Estancia to see the penguin reserve (this is the closest point on land from which one can visit the reserve). We just decided to enjoy the scenery and take some photos. We wandered into a little tea room which is placed in the original house from the early 1800s. The women working in the cafe went nuts for Paco and gave him a free cookie and cold milk (a real treat as fresh milk has actually been difficult to find as Paco won't touch the UHT stuff) as Erin and I enjoyed some tea and delicious homemade cake.
Paco has discovered the joy of photography and has taken ownership of one of our older digital cameras that we brought with us. He was walking around taking pictures of everything in the place... flowers, cups, tablecloths, you name it.
From Estancia Harborton, you are on a small protected bay looking out onto the mouth of the Beagle Straights and out into open ocean. Behind you are towering snow-covered peaks of the South Eastern most end of the Andes. With the sun out, it was truly a mind-blowing sight.
After spending some time, we decided that Paco could use a nap in the car, where he sleeps like a log, so we hit the dirt back out to Rt. 3 and North to Tolhuin, our other goal for the day. After getting back to Rt. 3, the highway climbs up and over the Andes. There is a scenic overlook at the summit where we could see for hundreds of miles. Tolhuin was shockingly ugly and run down given it's location at the end of a beautiful alpine lake. The bakery seemed to share the role of town center and meeting place and appears to be somewhat famous as the walls were covered with photos of Argentine celebrities who have visited over the years. We found a little restaurant for lunch as well. I think Erin was nervous about eating there since it looked like the roof hadn't been patched since 1975 and the place looked as run down as the rest of the town, but the empanadas were decent.
Afterwards, we saw a small park with swings and some equipment a few blocks away and Paco really needed some time to run around. The park was dedicated to the veterans of the war over the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands) back in 1982. It looked like the last coat of paint on the playground equipemnt was put on shortly after the war, but Paco had fun and the place suddenly became overrun with kids from the local school which had just let out. It was starting to get colder and the rain was coming in, so we got back on the road toward Ushuaia with the goal of stopping to see the sled dog place on the way back. It rained the whole way back over the pass and was drizzling as we went to check out the dogs.
We went to the little gift shop to check it out and the owner insisted on giving Paco a free piece of candy... this seems to be the tradition for him, after the lady on the train yesterday, the girls at the Estacia earlier today, and other places, Argentinians just love to give little kids free treats!
As we got back to Ushuaia the clouds broke and it was sunny when we arrived at the hotel. This is really the only rain we've seen in 3 weeks in Argentina. We have a suitcase filled with clothes for cold weather and rain and we haven't needed it once.
So, there it is, We wanted to drive to the end of the world and we made it about as far as it's possible to go. And it was pretty easy. There were people out on Land Rovers and we made the drive in a rented VW Gol (a tiny little model not sold outside of Latin America, I think).
Thursday, November 29, 2007
La Dueña Loca: 29 November 2007
We landed about 8:15 into Ushuaia, and oh my goodness, what a beautiful place. On the way, we flew over the Andes (Ushuaia is the only Argentine city on this side of the Andes) and the Straight of Magellan. The airport is about 10 years old, but has the feel of an Alpine lodge. The hotel had sent a remiss for us, and we piled into the car. So we arrived at 9PM last night to the Posada del Fin del Mundo. After 2 flights up we arrived at a nice sitting room, with evening snacks and tea. We were escorted in my Martina, a lovely assistant who was very elegant and professional. Then Ana, the owner, arrived, wearing clothing too tight for her age (she is about 60, I think) and showed us her son’s room, and there was no space for Paco (there was a loft bed, but not for a 3 year old). The son was in Brazil and still had a decent amount of stuff all over the place. In my head I was thinking, great, now I have to find a new place tomorrow. But then a nice Danish couple that was only there for one night before boarding a cruise to Antarctica (so jealous). So we moved into a triple on the ground floor, with a private bath and three separate beds. A bit sparse, but it would do. One of the hilarious things was that they said, “oh, well this room has a tv.” and then we found it had a So. American plug and all the outlets were European (it has happened before). So no TV without an adapter. We liked the sitting room and thought, ok, we will deal. Then we headed out to dinner, but Paco was so exhausted, it was a short one.
In the morning, I left at 8:30 to go to the tour office to book a boat tour. They were not open until 9:30, so I grabbed a cab to get up the hill back to the posada (Spanish for Inn). I saw Ana on the way into breakfast in her running tank and pants (don’t think she was actually going running). I joined Paco and Steve for breakfast and discovered we had to move into the son’s room after all. Now, the original deal I had made, was for a triple shared bathroom with the son, but not the son’s actual room. I was po’d. Steve did not even know what to say to her. He also was not convinced we would not have to move again. It normally takes us a while to pack, and even though they had offered to move our stuff, our stuff was now everywhere. And the son’s room was full of his crap everywhere. So Steve and I whispered to each other, “let’s find another place” I started to call places in the book, and the tourist center, but a lot was booked already. When I asked Steve for a budget he said, “The Llao Llao.” I laughed because the fancy place in town is more like $350 a night. I was fully ready to give up the WiFi they had in every room to get out of there. But in the end, I called a place called Macon do (http://www.macondohouse.com/), whom I had wanted to stay with before, but they were booked up. I spoke to the owner, she was so kind and said they had a cancellation and could put us in a double with a little bed for Paco. Ana, the owner of the Posada de Fin del Mundo had just hopped into a car with some handsome looking dude, so had her morning assistant call a cab and we piled all our crap in and drove the 15 blocks to the Macondo. For those of you who are not fans of Gabriel García Marquez, Macondo is the fictional town in his novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude. A book I absolutely love and it is my dream, some day, to read it in Spanish . We dropped our stuff off and went in search of the boats tours and lunch.. I felt like a load had been lifted. Steve, to his credit, just backed me up and we could have been sniping, but instead, just rallied. (For those of you wondering, yes we are having major snipe days, but only about 1 a week and usually food or fatigue related).
At the tour office, we made the decision that a boat tour was not really for us. And so we are renting a car tomorrow. The funny thing is that from everyone I have heard, “don’t drive in Argentina” but then I realized that advice came from Argentineans no longer living here!. The roads are substantially better the last few years. And the days we have most enjoyed were those in a car, away from the crowds. Tomorrow we will follow the Pan American Hwy in search of one of the first estancias in Tierra del Fuego.
In our search to find an early place for lunch, we found a Chinese food buffet. Paco wanted to eat there, and we figured it was his turn. It was awesome. Not cheap, but fresh vegetables and decent Chinese with housemade flan that was the best I have tasted next to Judy’s, of course. Paco, who has barely eaten the last few days, ate 3 plates full of food. The hispanic waitress was shocked when Paco and I wanted chopsticks. She said, "Like the Chinese ones use? They would not let us pay for Paco, despite our pleadings. From there, we made the mistake of not heading back to the hotel to get Paco a good nap and went to the Museo del Fin del Mundo. It was very interesting, talking about the settling of the land, but not for an overtired Paco. We did, however, get some rocking stamps in our passports from the Museum. From there we went to the rental office to fill out the paperwork for the car and Paco fell asleep. We wanted to catch the steam train at 3; So we took a cab to the National Park here in Ushuaia (Steve noted that there was a golf course). Side note: Argentineans are very proud of their parks and with good reason. The fees are about $10.00 per person, but free for locals, clean and just beautiful). Paco was still asleep but woke up with a grin the minute he heard the word “train.: The train is from early 19th century when the area was a penal colony and the train was used to cart the prisoners out to timber the forest. It was wonderful, but long and Paco was bored after the first hour. He did make friends with some nice older Argentine women who shared our car and gave him candy.
We went back to the hotel before looking in search of dinner. A task in Argentina at 7. Most places are closed until 8 PM. Steve joked, “soy Americano, yo quiero comer cuando quiero y en mi coche.” He even joked that we could take the rental car, and drive to Mendoza (about 48hrs away) where we saw a drive-thru McDonalds. We found a bar and ordered a hamburger for Paco, a Neapolitan pizzetta for me and then a blue cheese one for Steve. Of course the Neapoltian pizza came with ham and cheese. Paco’s hamburger tasted like sausage and he stole all the cheese from my pizza, leaving all the ham!
We went to rent the car and then to the grocery store to get supplies for our road trip tomorrow. Despite Judy’s comments, Ushuaia is far from godforsaken. It is incredible and a town of 70K, plus tourists. Leonardo, at the rental office told us of lots of restaurants on the road, including a 24 hr bakery! Not sure if we will make it there, but it is nice to know it is in the future. We bought a bunch of snacks and Paco proceeded to pull a Hoodi, and pick the miga (the inside) out of his crusty bread and eat it all while watching TV.
I like Ushuaia a lot, the winters are tough, of course. Steve does not even want to go back to BA (I think I could convince him to spend the week in Bariloche instead). I am kind of looking forward to BA and the diversity in food a bit more. The fish here is not as good as I had hoped. I actually think the best food we have had was been in Bariloche, followed by Mendoza. Paco is ready to go home, I think. But I suspect he will start enjoying himself Again in BA when we are close to the Zoo and cucumber in the stores! As much as he did not want to go the schools here, I think he misses being around kids more. Of course, little Pdub is asleep in his bed at the foot of ours. He was thrilled because his bed is kind of a rusty orange.
It finally started to rain and get cold tonight. All day we were roasting and I did not even take my jacket out this evening. Maybe tomorrow I get to finally pull out all that cold weather stuff I have been carting around. Steve and I were both sick of being hot, so I think the rain is a welcome change before heading to steamy BA on Saturday.
I apologize for any typos, I am beat. Off to bed, and early start in the AM. But at least I don’t have to deal with Ana. Love, Erin
PS, Shannon, your stroller has had it, we so have to buy you a new one!
In the morning, I left at 8:30 to go to the tour office to book a boat tour. They were not open until 9:30, so I grabbed a cab to get up the hill back to the posada (Spanish for Inn). I saw Ana on the way into breakfast in her running tank and pants (don’t think she was actually going running). I joined Paco and Steve for breakfast and discovered we had to move into the son’s room after all. Now, the original deal I had made, was for a triple shared bathroom with the son, but not the son’s actual room. I was po’d. Steve did not even know what to say to her. He also was not convinced we would not have to move again. It normally takes us a while to pack, and even though they had offered to move our stuff, our stuff was now everywhere. And the son’s room was full of his crap everywhere. So Steve and I whispered to each other, “let’s find another place” I started to call places in the book, and the tourist center, but a lot was booked already. When I asked Steve for a budget he said, “The Llao Llao.” I laughed because the fancy place in town is more like $350 a night. I was fully ready to give up the WiFi they had in every room to get out of there. But in the end, I called a place called Macon do (http://www.macondohouse.com/), whom I had wanted to stay with before, but they were booked up. I spoke to the owner, she was so kind and said they had a cancellation and could put us in a double with a little bed for Paco. Ana, the owner of the Posada de Fin del Mundo had just hopped into a car with some handsome looking dude, so had her morning assistant call a cab and we piled all our crap in and drove the 15 blocks to the Macondo. For those of you who are not fans of Gabriel García Marquez, Macondo is the fictional town in his novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude. A book I absolutely love and it is my dream, some day, to read it in Spanish . We dropped our stuff off and went in search of the boats tours and lunch.. I felt like a load had been lifted. Steve, to his credit, just backed me up and we could have been sniping, but instead, just rallied. (For those of you wondering, yes we are having major snipe days, but only about 1 a week and usually food or fatigue related).
At the tour office, we made the decision that a boat tour was not really for us. And so we are renting a car tomorrow. The funny thing is that from everyone I have heard, “don’t drive in Argentina” but then I realized that advice came from Argentineans no longer living here!. The roads are substantially better the last few years. And the days we have most enjoyed were those in a car, away from the crowds. Tomorrow we will follow the Pan American Hwy in search of one of the first estancias in Tierra del Fuego.
In our search to find an early place for lunch, we found a Chinese food buffet. Paco wanted to eat there, and we figured it was his turn. It was awesome. Not cheap, but fresh vegetables and decent Chinese with housemade flan that was the best I have tasted next to Judy’s, of course. Paco, who has barely eaten the last few days, ate 3 plates full of food. The hispanic waitress was shocked when Paco and I wanted chopsticks. She said, "Like the Chinese ones use? They would not let us pay for Paco, despite our pleadings. From there, we made the mistake of not heading back to the hotel to get Paco a good nap and went to the Museo del Fin del Mundo. It was very interesting, talking about the settling of the land, but not for an overtired Paco. We did, however, get some rocking stamps in our passports from the Museum. From there we went to the rental office to fill out the paperwork for the car and Paco fell asleep. We wanted to catch the steam train at 3; So we took a cab to the National Park here in Ushuaia (Steve noted that there was a golf course). Side note: Argentineans are very proud of their parks and with good reason. The fees are about $10.00 per person, but free for locals, clean and just beautiful). Paco was still asleep but woke up with a grin the minute he heard the word “train.: The train is from early 19th century when the area was a penal colony and the train was used to cart the prisoners out to timber the forest. It was wonderful, but long and Paco was bored after the first hour. He did make friends with some nice older Argentine women who shared our car and gave him candy.
We went back to the hotel before looking in search of dinner. A task in Argentina at 7. Most places are closed until 8 PM. Steve joked, “soy Americano, yo quiero comer cuando quiero y en mi coche.” He even joked that we could take the rental car, and drive to Mendoza (about 48hrs away) where we saw a drive-thru McDonalds. We found a bar and ordered a hamburger for Paco, a Neapolitan pizzetta for me and then a blue cheese one for Steve. Of course the Neapoltian pizza came with ham and cheese. Paco’s hamburger tasted like sausage and he stole all the cheese from my pizza, leaving all the ham!
We went to rent the car and then to the grocery store to get supplies for our road trip tomorrow. Despite Judy’s comments, Ushuaia is far from godforsaken. It is incredible and a town of 70K, plus tourists. Leonardo, at the rental office told us of lots of restaurants on the road, including a 24 hr bakery! Not sure if we will make it there, but it is nice to know it is in the future. We bought a bunch of snacks and Paco proceeded to pull a Hoodi, and pick the miga (the inside) out of his crusty bread and eat it all while watching TV.
I like Ushuaia a lot, the winters are tough, of course. Steve does not even want to go back to BA (I think I could convince him to spend the week in Bariloche instead). I am kind of looking forward to BA and the diversity in food a bit more. The fish here is not as good as I had hoped. I actually think the best food we have had was been in Bariloche, followed by Mendoza. Paco is ready to go home, I think. But I suspect he will start enjoying himself Again in BA when we are close to the Zoo and cucumber in the stores! As much as he did not want to go the schools here, I think he misses being around kids more. Of course, little Pdub is asleep in his bed at the foot of ours. He was thrilled because his bed is kind of a rusty orange.
It finally started to rain and get cold tonight. All day we were roasting and I did not even take my jacket out this evening. Maybe tomorrow I get to finally pull out all that cold weather stuff I have been carting around. Steve and I were both sick of being hot, so I think the rain is a welcome change before heading to steamy BA on Saturday.
I apologize for any typos, I am beat. Off to bed, and early start in the AM. But at least I don’t have to deal with Ana. Love, Erin
PS, Shannon, your stroller has had it, we so have to buy you a new one!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Más de Los Pengüinos
Erin writing (Steve did the last 2 postings)...I am sorry, I needed to find the ascii code for the U with the diereses (it is ALT 0252 for those of you looking). The penguin sanctuary was amazing. The road was hilarious. I was overjoyed when Fernando at the Hertz counter told me that the road was mostly paved now. But still it was about 30KM of gravel and the car showed it. Steve was worried, but I wasn't! The only thing is that I wished we had stopped for gas one last time. But that will have to come later.
So we are making our way (I was driving) down this hilarious road. I thought we were almost there several times, but then would look at the odometer and realize we had kilometers to go. At one point we passed through someone's estancia, with a grumpy looking rancher prepping for the day, and I saw the battered, red and white penguin sign of "Punto Tombo 15KM". Ugh another 15 km! Anyway, I was starting to think we were the first ones out there when pop! behind us, hauling up in dust was a Fiat! (We were in a very sad Chevy Corsa. So I sped up. No! I did not drag my poor child out of bed at 6:45 on vacation to have someone beat us to it! OK, not that dramatic, but I did feel a certain obligation to stay ahead.
When we arrived, a nice rancher waved me to the parking spot and as Steve said, we paid and headed on along the path. But both Steve and I were thinking we would suddenly arrive on a huge colony having a chat and singing their songs. In fact, I pretty much ditched the boys and walked at a decisive pace to find the almost 400,000 pengüinos before the Fiat people. Then, as we were walking along, poof, there was a penguin, then poof, there was another. Then we saw them sleeping in their little nests, lying in the sun in the middle of the path. All the signs say, give right of way to the penguin, so you are kind of standing there, waiting for them to cross the road.
As I was hauling, Steve and Paco were on Paco tiempo, and moving at a slower rate. We never found the penguin chorus, because this time of year, as Steve was the first to discover, the penguins are in their nests, hatching their eggs. And, if we were quiet, we could hear the “pio, pio, pio” and find the furry gray ball underneath its Mama or Dada, (we were never sure).
We hung out on the rock that Steve mentioned for about 20 minutes, and I think could have stayed there all day, hanging out in the sun with the penguins. But then, the first of the tour buses came in, and suddenly the park had about 50 people in it. It was still plenty of space (the Fiat people left quickly, but were, in the end, nice and Argentine) but the silence was broken And also, Paco started to whine about being hungry, so we needed to make our way back to the small café and then hit the road.
We had a snack and a chat with the folks running the tiny snack place at Punto Tombo. And then we decided to leave before the tour buses did. We timed it relatively well, as the parking lot had about 7 tour buses (Some only hold 9 people) and several private cars in the lot. Steve drove on the return and Paco quickly passed out. The road seems shorter on the return. We saw a sign for Camarones, a town about 150 miles to the south, and I was sad we could not just take off and head down there for the night.
We had seen one gas station on the way out of Trelew and had not stopped in order to beat the tour buses. But by the time I woke up from my nap, a panicked Steve was pulling into the same gas station, as we were completely on fumes. Paco woke up at that point and we decided to head to Gaiman, the settled Welsh town.
Gamain is supposed to have a British sense to it, and to some extent, it did. But really we were both disappointed and thought it would have more of a lush green feel to the town. We did stop in for a Welsh tea, after which Steve was sure he would be in diabetic shock from all the sweets! After that we went to a park where Paco ran about and we spoke to the mother of a girl Paco’s age, who was impressed that Paco spoke Spanish, her daughter is learning Welsh!
We headed back into the depressing world of Trelew, and aimed to find an early dinner and early to bed for all. None of the places we had heard of were open at 7:30 for dinner, so we returned to Mi Ciudad, My City and recommended to a British couple with a girl Paco’s age, that they do the same. Mi Ciudad was packed full of all the people who want a drink and snack before dinner time. We ordered and sure enough, who should arrive but our British friends (whose names, of course I never got). Steve and I at this point are officially tired of ham and cheese. Paco seemed to still enjoy his ham and cheese omelet, but it seems that all sandwiches, all pizzas and all eggs some with ham and cheese.
After dinner Paco and Robin, the English 3-year old had become fast friends and we went to the park to let them run off steam. After about an hour, the kids were exhausted. So we returned to the hotel for our last night in Trelew. I had planned to stay up after Paco went to sleep, charge the camera, the phones, the iPods and write about the day, but in snuggling Paco at about 10PM, I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up about 3 AM, still fully dressed.
This morning, Steve took Paco out for a ham and cheese media luna and I packed up. Then we threw everything in the car and drove to Puerto Madryn, which is supposed to be nicer and more touristy than Trelew. (not harder to be nicer or more tourist-centered than Trelew!) Puerto Madryn was a bit nicer, but really, compared to Mendoza or Bariloche there is no comparison. There are whale and sea lion excursions, but mostly Paco was interested in the huge play structure (there is not one in Trelew that we found and he wanted us to drive back to Gaiman to day to go back to the park). We ate and a restaurant on the main beach street that was awful. Everything tasted bad. Steve’s hamburger, (ham and cheese) Paco’s omelet (ham and cheese) and the orange soda. My fish, a merluza, was the best of the 3, but even that had a fishy taste when it really should have been caught that day or the day before. However, my fish was less than $6.00 USD, so how can I complain!
We walked a bit and tried the Havanna, which was not up to usual Havanna standards. At that point Steve announced, “I am done with the province of Chubut”. I had to agree. We let Paco play at the park for another 30 minutes and then left to get to the airport early. Paco passed out in the car. And we were both surprised when he transferred easily to the stroller at the airport.
Early for us, is way too early for the Argentine, and the airport was practically empty. We were able to check or luggage and pay the airport tax. But a lightening storm had begun while we were on the road and we both thinking we would be stuck in Trelew. The Hertz desk had no one there and German, the tax guy said they would not be there for another hour. Paco slept and the tax guy gave us his WiFi key. I snuck in some ice cream, so we were happy enough. Paco then woke up, pointed at me and snuggled back to sleepiness. However, it was clear he needed to use the bathroom, so I carried him to the bathroom, he did his business, half asleep, then fell asleep again on me and I was able to transfer him back into the stroller. Crazy.
Finally, my Hertz buddy, Fernando, came and we returned the car while Steve loaded the penguin photos. They called our gate and we were headed to security with the dread of pulling a still sleeping Paco out of his stroller. You gotta love Argentina, they pushed Paco around the security gate without waking him up! I guess they no better than to mess with a sleeping toddler.
Paco finally woke up just as we were boarding and I carried him onto the plane where he snacked a bit (ham and cheese sandwich), cried a bit and watched a bit of iPod. But all in all he had slept 3 hrs in the car, in the stroller and on the toilet. Poor kid, we have been wearing him out.
We are so excited to leave Trelew. I am glad we stayed there, it was an education. But truly there is something so sad about it. It is still the closest place to stay for the penguins, so for the extra hour it buys you, it is worth it.
Both Steve and I are very excited for Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego. We are on the plane now and I am so relieved that the weather cleared so we could take off! We land at 8 PM. I am not sure we will have a chance to book the boat tours when we get there. But I don’t care; we are still going to Tierra del Fuego. I doubt we will make it to the Chilean southern most town (Ushuaia is considered the southern most city, but Puerto Williams is further south but supposedly is very tiny). The rumor ahs it the passage from the Argentine side is $300.00 USD to get there from Ushuaia. It is about an hour boat ride!
There is also mini-trekking for the glacier, so I may ask if Steve can go. But if not, we are still on a pretty amazing adventure.
Love, Erin
PS: Shan, will try to get the chick photos uploaded. They kind of just look like fuzzy gray blobs, so you will have to use your imagination.
So we are making our way (I was driving) down this hilarious road. I thought we were almost there several times, but then would look at the odometer and realize we had kilometers to go. At one point we passed through someone's estancia, with a grumpy looking rancher prepping for the day, and I saw the battered, red and white penguin sign of "Punto Tombo 15KM". Ugh another 15 km! Anyway, I was starting to think we were the first ones out there when pop! behind us, hauling up in dust was a Fiat! (We were in a very sad Chevy Corsa. So I sped up. No! I did not drag my poor child out of bed at 6:45 on vacation to have someone beat us to it! OK, not that dramatic, but I did feel a certain obligation to stay ahead.
When we arrived, a nice rancher waved me to the parking spot and as Steve said, we paid and headed on along the path. But both Steve and I were thinking we would suddenly arrive on a huge colony having a chat and singing their songs. In fact, I pretty much ditched the boys and walked at a decisive pace to find the almost 400,000 pengüinos before the Fiat people. Then, as we were walking along, poof, there was a penguin, then poof, there was another. Then we saw them sleeping in their little nests, lying in the sun in the middle of the path. All the signs say, give right of way to the penguin, so you are kind of standing there, waiting for them to cross the road.
As I was hauling, Steve and Paco were on Paco tiempo, and moving at a slower rate. We never found the penguin chorus, because this time of year, as Steve was the first to discover, the penguins are in their nests, hatching their eggs. And, if we were quiet, we could hear the “pio, pio, pio” and find the furry gray ball underneath its Mama or Dada, (we were never sure).
We hung out on the rock that Steve mentioned for about 20 minutes, and I think could have stayed there all day, hanging out in the sun with the penguins. But then, the first of the tour buses came in, and suddenly the park had about 50 people in it. It was still plenty of space (the Fiat people left quickly, but were, in the end, nice and Argentine) but the silence was broken And also, Paco started to whine about being hungry, so we needed to make our way back to the small café and then hit the road.
We had a snack and a chat with the folks running the tiny snack place at Punto Tombo. And then we decided to leave before the tour buses did. We timed it relatively well, as the parking lot had about 7 tour buses (Some only hold 9 people) and several private cars in the lot. Steve drove on the return and Paco quickly passed out. The road seems shorter on the return. We saw a sign for Camarones, a town about 150 miles to the south, and I was sad we could not just take off and head down there for the night.
We had seen one gas station on the way out of Trelew and had not stopped in order to beat the tour buses. But by the time I woke up from my nap, a panicked Steve was pulling into the same gas station, as we were completely on fumes. Paco woke up at that point and we decided to head to Gaiman, the settled Welsh town.
Gamain is supposed to have a British sense to it, and to some extent, it did. But really we were both disappointed and thought it would have more of a lush green feel to the town. We did stop in for a Welsh tea, after which Steve was sure he would be in diabetic shock from all the sweets! After that we went to a park where Paco ran about and we spoke to the mother of a girl Paco’s age, who was impressed that Paco spoke Spanish, her daughter is learning Welsh!
We headed back into the depressing world of Trelew, and aimed to find an early dinner and early to bed for all. None of the places we had heard of were open at 7:30 for dinner, so we returned to Mi Ciudad, My City and recommended to a British couple with a girl Paco’s age, that they do the same. Mi Ciudad was packed full of all the people who want a drink and snack before dinner time. We ordered and sure enough, who should arrive but our British friends (whose names, of course I never got). Steve and I at this point are officially tired of ham and cheese. Paco seemed to still enjoy his ham and cheese omelet, but it seems that all sandwiches, all pizzas and all eggs some with ham and cheese.
After dinner Paco and Robin, the English 3-year old had become fast friends and we went to the park to let them run off steam. After about an hour, the kids were exhausted. So we returned to the hotel for our last night in Trelew. I had planned to stay up after Paco went to sleep, charge the camera, the phones, the iPods and write about the day, but in snuggling Paco at about 10PM, I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up about 3 AM, still fully dressed.
This morning, Steve took Paco out for a ham and cheese media luna and I packed up. Then we threw everything in the car and drove to Puerto Madryn, which is supposed to be nicer and more touristy than Trelew. (not harder to be nicer or more tourist-centered than Trelew!) Puerto Madryn was a bit nicer, but really, compared to Mendoza or Bariloche there is no comparison. There are whale and sea lion excursions, but mostly Paco was interested in the huge play structure (there is not one in Trelew that we found and he wanted us to drive back to Gaiman to day to go back to the park). We ate and a restaurant on the main beach street that was awful. Everything tasted bad. Steve’s hamburger, (ham and cheese) Paco’s omelet (ham and cheese) and the orange soda. My fish, a merluza, was the best of the 3, but even that had a fishy taste when it really should have been caught that day or the day before. However, my fish was less than $6.00 USD, so how can I complain!
We walked a bit and tried the Havanna, which was not up to usual Havanna standards. At that point Steve announced, “I am done with the province of Chubut”. I had to agree. We let Paco play at the park for another 30 minutes and then left to get to the airport early. Paco passed out in the car. And we were both surprised when he transferred easily to the stroller at the airport.
Early for us, is way too early for the Argentine, and the airport was practically empty. We were able to check or luggage and pay the airport tax. But a lightening storm had begun while we were on the road and we both thinking we would be stuck in Trelew. The Hertz desk had no one there and German, the tax guy said they would not be there for another hour. Paco slept and the tax guy gave us his WiFi key. I snuck in some ice cream, so we were happy enough. Paco then woke up, pointed at me and snuggled back to sleepiness. However, it was clear he needed to use the bathroom, so I carried him to the bathroom, he did his business, half asleep, then fell asleep again on me and I was able to transfer him back into the stroller. Crazy.
Finally, my Hertz buddy, Fernando, came and we returned the car while Steve loaded the penguin photos. They called our gate and we were headed to security with the dread of pulling a still sleeping Paco out of his stroller. You gotta love Argentina, they pushed Paco around the security gate without waking him up! I guess they no better than to mess with a sleeping toddler.
Paco finally woke up just as we were boarding and I carried him onto the plane where he snacked a bit (ham and cheese sandwich), cried a bit and watched a bit of iPod. But all in all he had slept 3 hrs in the car, in the stroller and on the toilet. Poor kid, we have been wearing him out.
We are so excited to leave Trelew. I am glad we stayed there, it was an education. But truly there is something so sad about it. It is still the closest place to stay for the penguins, so for the extra hour it buys you, it is worth it.
Both Steve and I are very excited for Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego. We are on the plane now and I am so relieved that the weather cleared so we could take off! We land at 8 PM. I am not sure we will have a chance to book the boat tours when we get there. But I don’t care; we are still going to Tierra del Fuego. I doubt we will make it to the Chilean southern most town (Ushuaia is considered the southern most city, but Puerto Williams is further south but supposedly is very tiny). The rumor ahs it the passage from the Argentine side is $300.00 USD to get there from Ushuaia. It is about an hour boat ride!
There is also mini-trekking for the glacier, so I may ask if Steve can go. But if not, we are still on a pretty amazing adventure.
Love, Erin
PS: Shan, will try to get the chick photos uploaded. They kind of just look like fuzzy gray blobs, so you will have to use your imagination.
"Hola Pinguino"
(Steve posting) As mentioned earlier, we got to Punta Tombo before anyone else and had the place to ourselves. The drive out to the park was so desolate and so poorly marked that I was really wondering if we were going the right way. There was nothing marked for 40 km on a dirt road until we came across a sign about the size of a piece of paper that had a picture of a penguin and "7 Km" on it.
The park rangers were very friendly and we paid our entrance fee... the seemingly standard $30 (Argentine Pesos) per adult and free for Paco for all parks. We walked about 300 yards down and up a gravel path and didn't really see anything... just low Patagonian brush as far as one could see with the Atlantic Ocean about 200 yards away. Suddenly, there's a penguin walking next to the path... just a foot or two away. The penguins appear to nest in burrows underneath the bushes, so at first they are hard to see.
As we continued to walk down the path into the park the birds became more and more concentrated until there were groups of 10-20 at a time. As we got further on, I noticed some high-pitched chirping sounds from under some of the bushes... to our delight, many of the baby penguins had begun to hatch within the past week or so, and in some cases, the chicks were visible right next to the shells of their eggs... just tiny little grey balls of fuzz with beaks.
During this time, Paco was on my shoulders and he would scream every time we saw a penguin "Hola Pinguino!"
When we got to the end of the trail, we were on a rock outcropping overlooking the beach where visitors were forbidden from going. Nevertheless, we were only about 50 feet away from hundreds of penguins and could watch them waddling down the rocky paths to the water front. There was a large sea lion about 100 feet off shore swimming around and we would see the penguins swimming at full speed back to shore every time he got near.
It was quiet, and peaceful and the penguins appeared comfortable (or at least completely tolerant) of their human visitors. We didn't leave the marked trail as instructed, but the birds were perfectly comfortable walking onto the trail and within inches of us. I'll try to load some photos to see if we can do this experience justice.
It was truly an amazing place and we wish we could have stayed even longer.
The park rangers were very friendly and we paid our entrance fee... the seemingly standard $30 (Argentine Pesos) per adult and free for Paco for all parks. We walked about 300 yards down and up a gravel path and didn't really see anything... just low Patagonian brush as far as one could see with the Atlantic Ocean about 200 yards away. Suddenly, there's a penguin walking next to the path... just a foot or two away. The penguins appear to nest in burrows underneath the bushes, so at first they are hard to see.
As we continued to walk down the path into the park the birds became more and more concentrated until there were groups of 10-20 at a time. As we got further on, I noticed some high-pitched chirping sounds from under some of the bushes... to our delight, many of the baby penguins had begun to hatch within the past week or so, and in some cases, the chicks were visible right next to the shells of their eggs... just tiny little grey balls of fuzz with beaks.
During this time, Paco was on my shoulders and he would scream every time we saw a penguin "Hola Pinguino!"
When we got to the end of the trail, we were on a rock outcropping overlooking the beach where visitors were forbidden from going. Nevertheless, we were only about 50 feet away from hundreds of penguins and could watch them waddling down the rocky paths to the water front. There was a large sea lion about 100 feet off shore swimming around and we would see the penguins swimming at full speed back to shore every time he got near.
It was quiet, and peaceful and the penguins appeared comfortable (or at least completely tolerant) of their human visitors. We didn't leave the marked trail as instructed, but the birds were perfectly comfortable walking onto the trail and within inches of us. I'll try to load some photos to see if we can do this experience justice.
It was truly an amazing place and we wish we could have stayed even longer.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Penguinos!!
Penguins awesome! The road was a great adventure. The guide books had
said that the road was 75 km of unpaved gravel but the Argentine
government has seen fit to build a new paved highway South from
Trelew. The road is not yet completed so there are about 30 km of
gravel left and I imagine that some of the road to the park will be
left unpaved... It certainly adds to the charm of this desolate and
isolated piece of coastline?
said that the road was 75 km of unpaved gravel but the Argentine
government has seen fit to build a new paved highway South from
Trelew. The road is not yet completed so there are about 30 km of
gravel left and I imagine that some of the road to the park will be
left unpaved... It certainly adds to the charm of this desolate and
isolated piece of coastline?
In typical Erin fashion, we hit the road early to beat the tour buses.
We were the first car in the lot and nearly had the place to
ourselves for the first hour. What a treat. Our timing was also
perfect as the penguine chicks appear to have begun hatching in the
past week or so. More to come later!
--
Erin Wheeler
Monday, November 26, 2007
Trelew and the Dinosaurs
Trelew is an industrial town. Puerto Madryn is the town for tourists, with its whale-watching ships and sea lions ashore. We may make it there, but Trelew is closer to the penguin colony at Punta Tumbo and the Welsh village of Gaiman, which we hope to see tomorrow. Yes, Welsh. I guess a bunch of Welsh moved here with an agreement with the Argentine government that they could preserve their language and culture because they were tired of the English trying to change it all.
Paco and I slept until about 9AM after going to bed closer to 12:30. Steve woke up preoccupied about parking the car and was up from about 7, organizing things and figuring out where stuff was. After a decent snack in the breakfast are downstairs, (where, I was so flattered, some Argentine woman thought I was Spanish, HA! She must not have heard me say much) we headed out to drop off the laundry and head to the paleontology museum. Steve and I were dying in the heat. Pushing the stroller 6 blocks killed me! It is not even that hot, but it seems like one of those repressive summer days in Sacramento where it is over 80 degrees in the mornings. We headed over to the paleontology museum. Small, but wonderful, Paco walked through it 3 times in total. Steve and I took turns enjoying coffee in the café. Once again I was flattered because the dude at the café thought I was Portugese (not Spanish, but still better than gringa). Steve can add more on this later, but it was pretty amazing, and is considered the best science museum in South America. The lab where they clean the fossils has huge windows and you can watch the technicians work on the bones. Pretty cool. Paco just announced to me that it was the biggest dinosaur he ever saw in his whole life! However, it was clear that we are all sick and Paco especially had developed a fever again last night. So we headed back and the boys have been sleeping since for 3 hours. I had 2 coffees so I am kind of out of luck, I think. We needed this flop day! The WiFi at the hotel is spotty at best, so I am writing in Word to paste in later. I am sick, but I do love Argentina. The penguins, however, can wait until tomorrow.
Must go, Paco woke up and is singing in bed. That is a good sign.
So the boys woke up and we were all starving. So we walked around a bit, but Paco was a mess (snotty, grumpy, tired) so we ended up at a café called Mi Ciudad, my city. I had asked at the front desk (not the friendliest place, for sure) if there was a McDonalds in town (it is a city of about 100,000) but the guy there and the nice guy at My City had no idea what I was talking about.. Still the café was nice and Paco ate an omlette with ham and cheese and his personality changed. Steve and I shared the gnocchi with Bolognese sauce. I had ordered the house salad, which when it came I immediately handed over to Steve. It was shredded carrots, eggs, and a ton of beets. I mean a ton of beets. Yuck.
We headed to the park and the pharmacy (we needed lip balm). The park, alas, had no play structure and Paco not much energy. So we opted for ice cream instead. In typical Argentine fashion, the man behind the counter gave Paco a huuuge amount of vanilla and in Paco fashion he ate it all. Then we popped into a camera store because our camera weirdly broke yesterday. It is just the lens cover, but still. The man told me that he knew of no one who could fix a digital camera in Trelew. He also had no digital cameras for sale. Then Paco and I came back into the hotel to rest and watch TV while Steve went to retrieve the laundry and head to the market for more apples and water.
Steve commented that Trelew seemed very poor, and that it was trapped in a world about a decade older. In fact, when I read about Trelew in Wikipedia, I found the phrase "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villa_miseria" to refer to a sort of shanty town that exists on the ourskirts. I saw the same in Mendoza and the polarity of the very rich with the very poor is definitely something to note. I know Buenos Aires too, has major areas of these shanty towns.
Paco seems to be burning up again, but we are going to let the fever do its job since Paco is not acting listless, just tired.
I just got back from the store where again, there are no coins. All over Mendoza there were signs that said they would round up or round down to the nearest bill. And here, it seems like no one has coins either. I wonder what is behind it? Is it a lack of distribution because this is not a tourist center? The problem did not exist in El Calafate and Bariloche? Is it a sign of an economic crash? I don't know, I just find it unsettling.
Note about jeans: I was pleased today to see a store called "La Vaqueria". Where one goes to buy their jeans or rather their pantalones vaqueros!
Hopeufully, the penguin excursion will go well tomorrow! Love, Erin
Paco and I slept until about 9AM after going to bed closer to 12:30. Steve woke up preoccupied about parking the car and was up from about 7, organizing things and figuring out where stuff was. After a decent snack in the breakfast are downstairs, (where, I was so flattered, some Argentine woman thought I was Spanish, HA! She must not have heard me say much) we headed out to drop off the laundry and head to the paleontology museum. Steve and I were dying in the heat. Pushing the stroller 6 blocks killed me! It is not even that hot, but it seems like one of those repressive summer days in Sacramento where it is over 80 degrees in the mornings. We headed over to the paleontology museum. Small, but wonderful, Paco walked through it 3 times in total. Steve and I took turns enjoying coffee in the café. Once again I was flattered because the dude at the café thought I was Portugese (not Spanish, but still better than gringa). Steve can add more on this later, but it was pretty amazing, and is considered the best science museum in South America. The lab where they clean the fossils has huge windows and you can watch the technicians work on the bones. Pretty cool. Paco just announced to me that it was the biggest dinosaur he ever saw in his whole life! However, it was clear that we are all sick and Paco especially had developed a fever again last night. So we headed back and the boys have been sleeping since for 3 hours. I had 2 coffees so I am kind of out of luck, I think. We needed this flop day! The WiFi at the hotel is spotty at best, so I am writing in Word to paste in later. I am sick, but I do love Argentina. The penguins, however, can wait until tomorrow.
Must go, Paco woke up and is singing in bed. That is a good sign.
So the boys woke up and we were all starving. So we walked around a bit, but Paco was a mess (snotty, grumpy, tired) so we ended up at a café called Mi Ciudad, my city. I had asked at the front desk (not the friendliest place, for sure) if there was a McDonalds in town (it is a city of about 100,000) but the guy there and the nice guy at My City had no idea what I was talking about.. Still the café was nice and Paco ate an omlette with ham and cheese and his personality changed. Steve and I shared the gnocchi with Bolognese sauce. I had ordered the house salad, which when it came I immediately handed over to Steve. It was shredded carrots, eggs, and a ton of beets. I mean a ton of beets. Yuck.
We headed to the park and the pharmacy (we needed lip balm). The park, alas, had no play structure and Paco not much energy. So we opted for ice cream instead. In typical Argentine fashion, the man behind the counter gave Paco a huuuge amount of vanilla and in Paco fashion he ate it all. Then we popped into a camera store because our camera weirdly broke yesterday. It is just the lens cover, but still. The man told me that he knew of no one who could fix a digital camera in Trelew. He also had no digital cameras for sale. Then Paco and I came back into the hotel to rest and watch TV while Steve went to retrieve the laundry and head to the market for more apples and water.
Steve commented that Trelew seemed very poor, and that it was trapped in a world about a decade older. In fact, when I read about Trelew in Wikipedia, I found the phrase "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villa_miseria" to refer to a sort of shanty town that exists on the ourskirts. I saw the same in Mendoza and the polarity of the very rich with the very poor is definitely something to note. I know Buenos Aires too, has major areas of these shanty towns.
Paco seems to be burning up again, but we are going to let the fever do its job since Paco is not acting listless, just tired.
I just got back from the store where again, there are no coins. All over Mendoza there were signs that said they would round up or round down to the nearest bill. And here, it seems like no one has coins either. I wonder what is behind it? Is it a lack of distribution because this is not a tourist center? The problem did not exist in El Calafate and Bariloche? Is it a sign of an economic crash? I don't know, I just find it unsettling.
Note about jeans: I was pleased today to see a store called "La Vaqueria". Where one goes to buy their jeans or rather their pantalones vaqueros!
Hopeufully, the penguin excursion will go well tomorrow! Love, Erin
Un Día con Los Jorges
We spent most of the night last night worried about Paco, who clearly had a fever throughout the night. It was easily controlled by Tylenol and we gave him the option to stay in the hotel. Both of us a honestly thought the glacier would not wait for good health. And well, we made the poor child suck it up.
Once again, Raúl was there for breakfast and we enjoyed the morning chat and sweets. Paco loved the ham and ate a ton. There had been a miscommunication between Pablo and Ana and me and Raúl had not known that we needed lunch for the day. I had some of the day be fore's still in the fridge and Raúl gave us a ton of apples. So we were fine.
Since late last night Steve discovered he would not be able to do the mini-trek, (in the end out of principle, I think). He joined us for our early remiss taxi to the Perito Moreno Glacer. We were expecting our buddy Jorge, whom we had met Friday night, with his new Chevy wagon. We knew his car had working seatbelts, which is not to be taken for granted. Jorge is my age, and full of the Argentine gift for the gab. So we were a bit surprised when he sent another Jorge, this one older and in a mid-90s Ford Escort. Still a Jorge is a Jorge and this Jorge seemed perfectly nice and the seatbelts worked. We asked him if he spoke English and when he said "no", we cheered!
We headed out to the Perito Moreno Glacier. Jorge the 1st had tried to get me to leave later, so he could take someone to the airport before us, but I had wanted to beat the crowd. The Perito Moreno Glacier is just massive. (Include link here). From El Calafate, it is about an hour to the park entrance, where you pay 10$ US per visiting adult, but Jorge, because he is a local, was free. In addition, they are very big on "pack in in, pack it out", and we were handed a trash bag to take back to El Calafate. Then another 30 minutes later, we pulled over to see the glacier. Yesterday we had seen the tallest and largest, but oh, my goodness, this is just huge. (Steve, enter photos here). Steve just pointed out that its significance is that it is actually advancing, (Steve adds) apparently, the last such glacier in the world to be doing so (wikepedia here). Jorge happily obliged us by taking photos of us together. All 4 of us were freezing and I was wishing I had brought my other jacket.
A few minutes later we arrived at the outlook, and after using the facilities, begun the many steps down to the glacier outlook. We rook the old wooden steps so we did not hold up the tour of early risers that had arrived when we did. Panchito got tired pretty quickly and spent most of it on my shoulders. We spent ages down there. There are 3 or 4 different outlooks, which is nice, because you kind of get your own special moment to just stare. Pancho was fascinated by the falling pieces and there was one particularly huge one. (Photo here). Jorge, had wisely opted to stay up high where it was warm and there was coffee. So we traded photo-taking with the people who seemed nice. Pancho did not want to leave but it was quite cold by the glacier and I was getting a bit concerned. With the promise of chocolate caliente, Pancho re-mounted my shoulders. I left Steve on the intermediate balcony with two Australians and an Oregonian thinking it would take me forever to reach the top. The Barilochean training must have served me well, because I was not dying, despite the 35 pounds of love on my shoulders. Paco and I went into the cafeteria and chose all sorts of things to snack on, chips, sandwich, hot chocolate and café cortado. $30 US later, Steve joined us and we warmed up at the top. Jorge had gone back to the car…after our long break in the cafeteria, we found him drinking mate with a buddy in the parking lot. Note on mate: if you don't know what it is, let me know, but it is very Argentine. They drink it much more here than in BA. It is hilarious. I BA if you see a person with a thermos and mate walking along the street, they are usually Uruguayan, but in the south, it is the practice!
Side note about Paco: He hit homesickness at this point and announced he was saving his sandwich for when we get back to California.
It was already 11:30 and we were aiming to be back at the hotel by 3PM. Our choices were to take the Barcquito (the little boat) into the channel in front of the glacier, or to head out to Lago Roca, where it is supposed to me a magnificent vista. Paco opted for the vista, as did I, and Jorge seemed surprised. But, he was up for it. The road to the Lago Roca is mostly gravel and it was a long drive for Jorge. Paco and I passed out. Steve was fascinated by the wildlife. When we arrived 90 minutes later at the campground, it seemed worth it. We took our picnic and walked through the campground to the lake. I stayed back and Steve and Paco spent some time adventuring. Paco looked at the condors flying above and commented that they did not seem as big as those on Go, Diego, Go since Diego was riding on those in the air. Side note: the cold from the glacier seemed to break Paco's fever, because it did not come back all day.
We had our small picnic before heading back to Jorge. It was a long drive to the Lago, but it seemed worth it. I think Steve really enjoyed the wildlife and I enjoyed being away from the crowds. Paco was frustrated that there was a pool table in the campground center and we did not want to take the time to play. Ah, perhaps next time. On the way back we saw 12 huge condors flying above the road. It was absolutely incredible. There was one particularly huge one. Paco announced that was the daddy condor and that it could, indeed, handle Diego.
The road back to El Calafate went faster and Steve slept in the back of the car. When we arrived back at the hotel, I over tipped Jorge as I think he undercharged us for the Lago Roca portion (man, it is hard on the suspension) and he drove with such care that I never felt unsafe. That is a big statement when you drive with the Argentines (Especially since Jorge is from BA). Though El Calafate has a slower pace that infects everyone. Including us!
We were walking back into the town to grab a few souvenirs when who should pull over next to us, but Jorge the 1st. He was full of apologies and asked how it all went. He explained that is was a full work day, thank god, and he knew he had left us in good hands. He then offered us a ride into town, for which he refused, I mean refused, to take money. We got out of the car and Steve commented once again on the friendliness and genuineness of the town. We rushed through the town to meet and have a fast snack at La Cocina again. Well, of course, fast does not exist in Argentina when it comes to food. So 35 minutes later, our food just arrived when Raúl showed up at the appointed time to take us back to the hotel and then on to the airport. It was all fine, but a bit hurried. I have to love Argentine air travel, though. The flight is delayed and as a practice you are not allowed through until 1 hr before the takeoff time. We have become used to this (with some effort) and were hanging out in the café when the security opened up and all the Europeans rushed to the security. The flight was delayed and we still had an hour. So we enjoyed our coffee and Paco his juice until the line went down and we moseyed over to security. Upon inspection the officer noticed our tax documentation was off and asked us to wait. He went over to the tax desk and retrieved a missing tax stamp we had needed to Paco's ticket. In my mind, had we not had Paco, he would have sent us over and told us to get back at the end of the line. Who knows, but it just seems like traveling with a child in Argentina is easier than any place else we have gone. We got to the gate and after some chatting with some very nice Italians we were once again waved through first to board. Poor Paco was absolutely exhausted at this point and we again got looks from the Argentines about the time outs! Eventually, by us pretending to sleep, he slept himself and we had to wake him up when we landed in Trelew. There was a kind, Brasilian woman behind him who wanted to play with him. I had to mouth the words "no no!" So he would sleep instead.
Side note about Trelew: We cannot pronounce it. Every time we do: (kind of like TraaLeu) an Argentine corrects us and we cannot get it right. Steve and I joked last night it was like that SNL sketch with Nuni and Nooni: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Schoeners. Trelew is not the tourist center for the area, that is Puerto Madryn, but we wanted to be closer to the penguins and there is a dinosaur museum here.
We landed just fine, but sick and tired Paco wanted to be held. So while Steve waited for the luggage we went in search of the car. Steve was having fears of the hour that we had in Mendoza waiting at the Hertz Desk. But not the case. There was a good 10 minutes of a German struggling to communicate with the Argentine agent, but the lot porter spoke English and there was eventually a manner of communication. When it was my turn, Fernando, the agent was full of apologies, had the paperwork completed, explained that the road that was gravel was not paved and the car was brought to us. Fernando then told me to make sure Paco wore his jacket, as it was cold and waited outside with us until everything was sorted in the car before entering back inside. Not, however, before giving us his cell phone number.
We made our way into Trelew and found our hotel. But the grumpy night-time clerk was less than helpful and Paco was starving. Steve, superdad, went around the corner to a restaurant, ordered us dinner, then brought the bags up, then went and got dinner. Shannon and Cindy, this place reminded me at fist of the place in Genoa, perfectly fine, but a scary element none the less. I was almost in tears because I thought the windows on the room were boarded shut due to crime, when he walked over and opened the heavy wooden shutters that were closed due to the summer heat. He also snuck in ice cream for me, including our new favorite, dulce de leche with chocolate chips and a delicious banana (I am not a fan of banana flavored anything, ever since I was 6 and had to sit through The Jungle Book movie next to Colleen eating a package of banana flavored Now and Laters. Yuck, she denies it was her, but it was) for Paco. The banana was the hit, but Paco stuck to Vanilla and Steve and I ate it all.
We decided to sleep in tomorrow and do the penguins Tuesday. We are all just too worn out and too sick, I think. Both Steve and I really enjoyed the long day. I am not usually one for tourist cities, but El Calafate is something spectacular. The townspeople are from all over Argentina, people who seem to be looking for a quieter and easier life. Usually I am a California snob about landscapes, but the enormity and spectrum of colors humbled my arrogance. It is the glaciers yes, with their blues and white and black streaks, but too the huge rocks left by glaciers years ago, the massive valley walls with colors of brown that could not have words and the sheer quietness of it all. Neither Steve nor I wanted to leave. I was fine if we missed our flight. It was just so relaxing, and yet we did so much. There is so much more I want to do. We told Paco, we would come back when he is 10 and we can all walk on the ice together. Steve and I both were half-joking, half-dreaming about selling our house in San José and moving to Bariloche or El Calafate. But Paco would have none of it. He told us he liked his school and his friends in California. He talks of his two friends Natalia and Dominic often, more since we have left Bariloche. Ah, he likes Argentina, but he is still our California boy!
More from Trelew, Treleu or Trelau, however it is pronounced.
Quo Vaddis Cont.
Note from Erin: the WiFi in Trelew is very spotty, so the photos will have to wait!
(Steve)
By this point, you are probably wondering about the name of this post… Quo Vaddis was the name of the boat that took us on the tour. It must be the flagship of the fleet as it was the biggest catamaran on the lake and that night we saw an ad in the Aerolineas Argentinas in flight magazine for the tour company and the boat in the picture was none other than our boat. The catamaran had three levels, the lower two were enclosed passenger compartments with observation decks at the rear . The top was an observation deck and the boat’s bridge.
The passenger compartments were comfortably outfitted with leather chairs and huge windows. During the winter, the deep waters of Lago Argentino never freeze, so I imagine that they use these boats all year round, though the roads from El Calafate to the marina an hour away are reportedly barely passable during the deep winter snows. If anything, I would have wanted more outdoor observation room as I found the cabin too warm and wanted to be outside I the wind.
Our first stop after about an hour was in a section of the park that appeared to be a low valley filled with a strange forest of trees. This is a part of the National Park, so there was a restaurant (see Erin’s post). The coolest part for me was a walk of about 800 meters through the forest to the Lago Moretti, a lake formed at the base of a smaller glacier. The trees in the forest are unique to this area and could serve as a movie set for a haunted forest. The trees were twisted, spaced apart in the woods, and covered with grey moss. The woods were filled with birds. The little lake was filled with icebergs… some smaller pieces were close enough to the shore for us to touch, which Paco was excited to do. In colder months, the ice comes all the way to the beach and it’s possible to climb onto some of them, but not this time.
After lunch, we got back on the boat and made our way to Glacier Upsala, the largest in the park.
Normally, it’s possible for the boats to navigate to within a couple of hundred meters of the huge face of the glacier but they had a huge portion of the glacier break off within the past week or two and we couldn’t get within 3 kilometers (!) due to the huge ice flows. Many of the icebergs were enormous. Imagine that the face of the glacier is more than 3 kilometers wide and the entire channel was completely filled with huge chunks of ice. The icebergs were the most amazing shade of blue due to the highly compressed and pure nature of the ice within them. I don’t think it’s possible to capture this scale in pictures, but I tried.
We cruised by bergs that dwarfed the boat and many had the most unbelievable shapes including holes, arcs, etc.
After roaming amongst the bergs for about 30 minutes we turned around and made our way down another arm of the lake towards Glacier Spegazzini. Along the way, we saw the rock formations created over the years by the glaciers and saw another smaller one that had work a nice crevasse into the mountains. The glacier was still there, but the ice stopped about a thousand feet above the lake, so the area between was filled with running water and small falls.
Spegazzini isn’t the largest glacier in the park, but it is the tallest. The wall of ice on the face was reported to be nearly 450 feet high and the glacier was working it’s way down a steep mountain side that went up over 3000 feet above the lake… the force on the ice must be incredible. The face was covered with huge cracks and many enormous pieces appeared to be teetering on the edge of falling off, but nothing occurred while we were there.
I had no idea what to expect of the tour but I was impressed. The entire trip was well organized, from the bus from the hotel to the boat itself. The ship was impressive. Later in the afternoon during the trip back to the marina, the captain invited Paco to come up to the bridge for photos. He even offered to let him sit in his chair and “steer” the boat, but Paco got shy and wouldn’t do it. The bridge was impressive and very luxurious… the ever present thermos of hot water and Mate next to the captain’s work area.
Erin now: So what happened with the Captain was that a staff member came to Paco and asked if he wanted to meet the Captain. Paco announced to the entire cabin “I am going to meet the Captain” loudly in English and proceeded to march with Steve upstairs. When Paco did not want to sit in the chair, he said, “I just wanted to see the captain” and that was that. Still, this, in contrast to our experience at the restaurant, is a more traditional reflection of Argentine treatment of kids!
Steve again: After the return to the marina, we boarded the same bus for the trip home. Let’s just say that the fleet of boats is one of the main attractions for visitors to El Calafate… in fact, it’s probably the reason for the whole town’s existence as a tourist destination (there are no other industries here other than some cattle operations like throughout Patagonia. There were twelve or so full-sized tour busses waiting… these busses are there for nothing other than shuttling people back and forth from town the 50 km or so to the marina and back.
Paco and I were bushed, but Paco insisted on accompanying me into town. The bus would be making a stop near the town center before making its way to our hotel. He and I decided to get off early so I could find some sunglasses as I had broken mine and would need them for the trek on the ice the next day. What a trooper, Paco walked proudly throughout the town in his hiking boots. He was the judge of which glassed I would buy, then we made our way to the place where the taxis and remises pick you up. We waited for about ten minutes and when our car arrived we hopped in and told the drive to take us to our hotel. The driver turned and said, “Senior Haas, si?” It turned out to be Raúl, the employee from the hotel who had helped us that morning. Like many people in this town, apparently, he has two or three different jobs. The taxis are the personal cars of their drivers equipped with the metering equipment and they put a “taxi” or “remise” sign in the window when they are working and take it down when they are not.
Erin now: I stayed on the bus while the boys went into to town to find the sunglasses. And the bus started dropping people off, but dropped off some in the city center. When he got close to the Hotel, he said Señora Lumpama, acá! And had stopped 50m from the door, uphill with the backpack and all the lunch boxes. It was a stark contrast to the morning when people were collected at the door! Steve: The explanation was that the bus could not make it up the steep gravel drives to the hotels while loaded with passengers. That morning we were the second stop so the bus had been nearly empty. Erin: Sure.
Steve: We were all exhausted and decided to have an early dinner at the hotel and get to sleep early so we could get an early start in the morning. Our plan was for me to go on the ice trek while Erin and Paco took a remise to the park to see Perito Moreno. I was talking to the folks at the hotel about a late check out… I had been led to believe that the mini trek was only a half-day adventure, so I wanted to be able to use the room until about 2 or 3 so I could shower after the hike and before the flight to Trelew. Ana, at the front desk, seemed confused and said that she didn’t think I would be back before 6 or 7 pm… a real issue as our flight was at 7 or so. Hmmm, a call to the trekking company confirmed this… indeed the mini-trek was only 90 minutes on the ice but with travel time, waiting for the boat to cross the channel, and time to wait while the folks on the longer trip made their way back, it was a full day. Oops, I had to cancel or I would miss the flight. The tour company was not very nice about much of this as it was they who originally told me I could be done by 2 pm or so. They gave me a hard time about cancelling, of course, but they did credit me back. I was a bit bummed about missing this opportunity, but it turns out that we would have a terrific day all together the anyway.
(Steve)
By this point, you are probably wondering about the name of this post… Quo Vaddis was the name of the boat that took us on the tour. It must be the flagship of the fleet as it was the biggest catamaran on the lake and that night we saw an ad in the Aerolineas Argentinas in flight magazine for the tour company and the boat in the picture was none other than our boat. The catamaran had three levels, the lower two were enclosed passenger compartments with observation decks at the rear . The top was an observation deck and the boat’s bridge.
The passenger compartments were comfortably outfitted with leather chairs and huge windows. During the winter, the deep waters of Lago Argentino never freeze, so I imagine that they use these boats all year round, though the roads from El Calafate to the marina an hour away are reportedly barely passable during the deep winter snows. If anything, I would have wanted more outdoor observation room as I found the cabin too warm and wanted to be outside I the wind.
Our first stop after about an hour was in a section of the park that appeared to be a low valley filled with a strange forest of trees. This is a part of the National Park, so there was a restaurant (see Erin’s post). The coolest part for me was a walk of about 800 meters through the forest to the Lago Moretti, a lake formed at the base of a smaller glacier. The trees in the forest are unique to this area and could serve as a movie set for a haunted forest. The trees were twisted, spaced apart in the woods, and covered with grey moss. The woods were filled with birds. The little lake was filled with icebergs… some smaller pieces were close enough to the shore for us to touch, which Paco was excited to do. In colder months, the ice comes all the way to the beach and it’s possible to climb onto some of them, but not this time.
After lunch, we got back on the boat and made our way to Glacier Upsala, the largest in the park.
Normally, it’s possible for the boats to navigate to within a couple of hundred meters of the huge face of the glacier but they had a huge portion of the glacier break off within the past week or two and we couldn’t get within 3 kilometers (!) due to the huge ice flows. Many of the icebergs were enormous. Imagine that the face of the glacier is more than 3 kilometers wide and the entire channel was completely filled with huge chunks of ice. The icebergs were the most amazing shade of blue due to the highly compressed and pure nature of the ice within them. I don’t think it’s possible to capture this scale in pictures, but I tried.
We cruised by bergs that dwarfed the boat and many had the most unbelievable shapes including holes, arcs, etc.
After roaming amongst the bergs for about 30 minutes we turned around and made our way down another arm of the lake towards Glacier Spegazzini. Along the way, we saw the rock formations created over the years by the glaciers and saw another smaller one that had work a nice crevasse into the mountains. The glacier was still there, but the ice stopped about a thousand feet above the lake, so the area between was filled with running water and small falls.
Spegazzini isn’t the largest glacier in the park, but it is the tallest. The wall of ice on the face was reported to be nearly 450 feet high and the glacier was working it’s way down a steep mountain side that went up over 3000 feet above the lake… the force on the ice must be incredible. The face was covered with huge cracks and many enormous pieces appeared to be teetering on the edge of falling off, but nothing occurred while we were there.
I had no idea what to expect of the tour but I was impressed. The entire trip was well organized, from the bus from the hotel to the boat itself. The ship was impressive. Later in the afternoon during the trip back to the marina, the captain invited Paco to come up to the bridge for photos. He even offered to let him sit in his chair and “steer” the boat, but Paco got shy and wouldn’t do it. The bridge was impressive and very luxurious… the ever present thermos of hot water and Mate next to the captain’s work area.
Erin now: So what happened with the Captain was that a staff member came to Paco and asked if he wanted to meet the Captain. Paco announced to the entire cabin “I am going to meet the Captain” loudly in English and proceeded to march with Steve upstairs. When Paco did not want to sit in the chair, he said, “I just wanted to see the captain” and that was that. Still, this, in contrast to our experience at the restaurant, is a more traditional reflection of Argentine treatment of kids!
Steve again: After the return to the marina, we boarded the same bus for the trip home. Let’s just say that the fleet of boats is one of the main attractions for visitors to El Calafate… in fact, it’s probably the reason for the whole town’s existence as a tourist destination (there are no other industries here other than some cattle operations like throughout Patagonia. There were twelve or so full-sized tour busses waiting… these busses are there for nothing other than shuttling people back and forth from town the 50 km or so to the marina and back.
Paco and I were bushed, but Paco insisted on accompanying me into town. The bus would be making a stop near the town center before making its way to our hotel. He and I decided to get off early so I could find some sunglasses as I had broken mine and would need them for the trek on the ice the next day. What a trooper, Paco walked proudly throughout the town in his hiking boots. He was the judge of which glassed I would buy, then we made our way to the place where the taxis and remises pick you up. We waited for about ten minutes and when our car arrived we hopped in and told the drive to take us to our hotel. The driver turned and said, “Senior Haas, si?” It turned out to be Raúl, the employee from the hotel who had helped us that morning. Like many people in this town, apparently, he has two or three different jobs. The taxis are the personal cars of their drivers equipped with the metering equipment and they put a “taxi” or “remise” sign in the window when they are working and take it down when they are not.
Erin now: I stayed on the bus while the boys went into to town to find the sunglasses. And the bus started dropping people off, but dropped off some in the city center. When he got close to the Hotel, he said Señora Lumpama, acá! And had stopped 50m from the door, uphill with the backpack and all the lunch boxes. It was a stark contrast to the morning when people were collected at the door! Steve: The explanation was that the bus could not make it up the steep gravel drives to the hotels while loaded with passengers. That morning we were the second stop so the bus had been nearly empty. Erin: Sure.
Steve: We were all exhausted and decided to have an early dinner at the hotel and get to sleep early so we could get an early start in the morning. Our plan was for me to go on the ice trek while Erin and Paco took a remise to the park to see Perito Moreno. I was talking to the folks at the hotel about a late check out… I had been led to believe that the mini trek was only a half-day adventure, so I wanted to be able to use the room until about 2 or 3 so I could shower after the hike and before the flight to Trelew. Ana, at the front desk, seemed confused and said that she didn’t think I would be back before 6 or 7 pm… a real issue as our flight was at 7 or so. Hmmm, a call to the trekking company confirmed this… indeed the mini-trek was only 90 minutes on the ice but with travel time, waiting for the boat to cross the channel, and time to wait while the folks on the longer trip made their way back, it was a full day. Oops, I had to cancel or I would miss the flight. The tour company was not very nice about much of this as it was they who originally told me I could be done by 2 pm or so. They gave me a hard time about cancelling, of course, but they did credit me back. I was a bit bummed about missing this opportunity, but it turns out that we would have a terrific day all together the anyway.
The bus trip and the porteños
The Quo Vaddis (Steve’s Entry)
Of course, the primary reason for anyone to visit El Calafate is the city’s location as the gateway to the Parques Nacionales de los Glacieres. There are a few ways to see this incredible natural wonder. The easiest is to visit an overlook of the Perito Moreno glacier (more on that later), another is to take a mini-trek of a 90 minute walk on Perito Moreno by guided tour using crampons. Given that Paco is too young to take the hike on the ice (minimum age is 10) I decided on a third plan, a boat trip from Puerto Banderas that lasts the whole day and visit’s the faces of three glaciers, (Upsala, Spaegazzini and a combo of 3 little ones: Agassiz, Bolado and Onelli). We worried about Pancho’s sustained level of interest on a full-day boat trip, so we came prepared… or I should say that Supermom was prepared.
We had read about the boat trip in advance and wanted to make reservations ahead of time. Since our only full day in the area was to fall on a Saturday, I was anxious about not finding room on the boat. In the style to which we’ve now become accustomed , we found it impossible to book tickets more than 24 hours in advance of the day and ONLY in person and in cash at the office of the tour company in El Calafate. We were scheduled to arrive in El Calafate around 4:30 PM, giving us time to run down to the office before they closed at 9 pm. Of course, the flight was moved around so we were running a bit late. After dropping off our things at the hotel, we took a stroll down to town to book the tickets… turned out to be no problem.
Erin now: Ha! Stroll! Steve hauled a++ while I pushed Pancho. It was actually fine, except Steve was in a total Haas-style panic. So when Pancho and I arrived at the boat-tour operator, Steve had already sorted it all out, but I took over the details and then sent Steve to sign-up for the Mini-trekking. When we found him a few minutes later, he was set, but Pancho and I were disappointed. We had read that the tour offered mini-trekking for all ages and abilities, but not so. But then we headed to La Cocina, which that evening was warm and wonderful and the perfect end to a long day.
So Saturday morning (FYI, assume any conversation in El Calafate is in Spanish. We found that while most people spoke at least tourist English, they truly appreciated and supported our desire to practice and improve. Ana and Pablo at the Hosteleria Lumpama both speak English fluently, but Ana had told me that we would not be conversing in English once we arrived. Steve had no idea that Pablo spoke English until he needed to clarify something and had concerns about the communication barrier. I said, “speak to him in English.” Steve had no idea he could!).
OK, on Saturday morning we woke up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus that was due to arrive between 7 and 7:30. Steve and I were both beat and dragged ourselves downstairs for breakfast. When I saw the table prepped, with media lunas and cereal, I asked, “Is this for us?” to which Raúl answered, “Sí.” (OK, native speakers, need guidance here, would you use “Esta para nosotros?” or “por” in this instance? Because I used para since it felt like a gift to come downstairs and see everything waiting!)
We discovered, scarily, that Paco loved Tang. And he just told me he really liked the cake with the dulce de leche and the meringue dollops on top. (It was delicious). He liked the idea of it more than the actual cake and he pulled off the meringue and had me scrape off the dulce de leche.
The bus arrived at 7:15 at the door of the hotel, which is up a small gravel hill. As we left, Raúl presented us with our lunches that we had ordered the night before. The bus then continued for 4 to 5 hotels to collect everyone. It seemed to take forever to get to the main road to the Puerto Bandera. Paco passed out, then woke up when we got the to the port. Then, in true Argentine fashion, everyone had to get off the bus to pay the fee for the park entrance, half of the people then went on to a boat that would take them past the huge Perito Moreno glacier, and then half joined us back on the bus, to the other side of the port to take the boat tour of the other glaciers. At this point, a tired Pancho burst into tears and was in the middle of a time-out for hitting me (which he does when tired) when a man said to me in Spanish that he thought he could use something I did not understand. When I said, oh, I am not familiar with that, he explained it was a smack. I smiled and let Pancho keep crying and then the wife said to me as we got off the bus, Pancho is just tired, it is an early start for him. Then proceeded to tell me how impressed she was with Pancho’s understanding of Castellano.
I’ll let Steve describe the boat, but it was impressive. We found again, that Paco gave us special treatment as the purser ensured we found 3 seats together on the upper level. However, unlike previous boats I have been on, most of this boat was enclosed. I suppose the climate is unpredictable. Paco insisted on wearing his life jacket (I am the dorky mom who brings it from the States), but quickly grew tired of the crowds outside and seemed more content to be inside the boat, where, really, we had a perfectly good view. We traveled for about an hour through the impressive Lago Argentino, the largest lake in Argentina (that is this awesome whitened blue due to the minerals from the glaciers), before arriving at a wooded area that now I cannot read on the map. (Mental note, add here later). Here there is a restaurant and a trail to the other side of the point. I took Paco on my shoulders and we hauled out to the end of the trail. It was beautiful. Paco had not been feeling well (and there was a big fight about chocolate on the boat. Steve and I are now convinced it was two mistakes we made as parents (involving chocolate and communication) and as well, the Dramamine we had let him take when Steve took his.) I was concerned about his eating. So I was a bit anxious to get back to the restaurant when it started serving to make sure we had options other than the ham and cheese sandwiches (with, I am not exaggerating, easily had 3T of butter on the bread) that we had brought with us. That, and I had to go the bathroom. Steve and Paco hung out at the end of the trail while I tried to beat the crowds back to the restaurant. I grabbed a table (it was all family style) or rather 3 chairs of 6 and waited for my boys. Steve showed up with a smiling Paco on his shoulders. When they sat down a couple about Mike and Judy’s age, also from Buenos Aires joined us to share the table. For the rest of this conversation, I have to refer to them as Mike and Judy, for reasons that will become clear in a minute. The food was a choice of 3 menus, the plate of the day which was a fried fish with ham and cheese melted on it (ham and cheese seems to be a big thing here, Steve and I are both weary of it), a lomo (nice beef loin) with fries, and a spaghetti Bolognese, all came with soup that was pretty garlicky. Now, the following story was all in Spanish, which makes it even funnier, but if you know my in-laws, and can imagine them there instead of this couple from BA, you will have an idea of the events…
So the soup came and Paco was hungry, so he was picking at his ham and cheese and drinking his water. A few minutes passed and the manager of the restaurant (hereto referred as el jefe) came over and told Steve the sandwich had to be put away and the water. The food was in front of Paco’s plate and Steve and I had already ordered. Steve did not quite understand, but then got it and told Paco he had to wait until our food arrived and we would share it. Paco, burst into tears and then realized there was bread on the table. Finally, our waiter Horatio, brought the water we had ordered. The Judy asked if Paco could have his sandwich since he was a just a little boy and the other food was not ready yet. My eyes filled with tears at her kindness because we had not even exchanged a word before except to motion that there was room at the table. She gave me a hug, called me niña and said, basically, this is stupid. Horatio had come back to say the Jefe said no. Upon which the Mike and the Judy discussed in a rapid Spanish that I could not really get that this was ridiculous, the soup was spicy, there was no kids menu, what did these people think? Paco was 3, not 10 and we had ordered meals for ourselves. I think there were some Spanish words in there that I would prefer not to know as well. Upon which, the Mike decided enough was enough and went up to the manager and basically stayed there, arguing with his hands for several minutes until he returned and said, in Spanish, “La bruja dijo que el niño puede comer lo que quiere.” I think I got that right. Which basically translates as the witch said that the child can eat what he wants. Then we all discussed how not Argentine that was. For me, normally, Argentines own their children as a community. People are fast to give you advice and help and hate to see a child cry. I also find that Steve and I tend to let Paco cry if he is misbehaving and that this is very difficult for the Argentine. The main with the spanking idea is rare (he was probably not Argentine!). They really want us to just hold and kiss him and maybe give him a cookie. Paco is often given cookies or candy in many situation and usually no one will let us pay for them. In an accumulation of 6 weeks of my life here, I have twice, twice, had someone not offer me their spot in line, wave me in front or just stop everything and everyone to help me. My German friend Anne jokes that the Argentine custom of pulling the stroller to the front of passport control is unheard of in Germany, and if anything the stroller just slows you down. I had to laugh as the Germans looked at us strangely in Bariloche and El Calafate, where, between the stroller and having a kid named Francisco, we have often been given special treatment at the German tourist’s expense.
Anyway, the Mike and the Judy felt horrible, and could not believe it. The Mike even tried to buy our lunch. Between their kindness and their fortitude, we felt like in that moment, we had Steve’s porteños parents with us.
We got back on the boat and between the food and the Tylenol, Paco was much better. But he and I still felt horrible and stayed inside most of the time. Glacier report and photos coming soon…I am sorry, I am beat and need to join the boys in a nap. FYI, we are in Trelew now, but sick and pooped. So taking it easy today. Love, Erin
Of course, the primary reason for anyone to visit El Calafate is the city’s location as the gateway to the Parques Nacionales de los Glacieres. There are a few ways to see this incredible natural wonder. The easiest is to visit an overlook of the Perito Moreno glacier (more on that later), another is to take a mini-trek of a 90 minute walk on Perito Moreno by guided tour using crampons. Given that Paco is too young to take the hike on the ice (minimum age is 10) I decided on a third plan, a boat trip from Puerto Banderas that lasts the whole day and visit’s the faces of three glaciers, (Upsala, Spaegazzini and a combo of 3 little ones: Agassiz, Bolado and Onelli). We worried about Pancho’s sustained level of interest on a full-day boat trip, so we came prepared… or I should say that Supermom was prepared.
We had read about the boat trip in advance and wanted to make reservations ahead of time. Since our only full day in the area was to fall on a Saturday, I was anxious about not finding room on the boat. In the style to which we’ve now become accustomed , we found it impossible to book tickets more than 24 hours in advance of the day and ONLY in person and in cash at the office of the tour company in El Calafate. We were scheduled to arrive in El Calafate around 4:30 PM, giving us time to run down to the office before they closed at 9 pm. Of course, the flight was moved around so we were running a bit late. After dropping off our things at the hotel, we took a stroll down to town to book the tickets… turned out to be no problem.
Erin now: Ha! Stroll! Steve hauled a++ while I pushed Pancho. It was actually fine, except Steve was in a total Haas-style panic. So when Pancho and I arrived at the boat-tour operator, Steve had already sorted it all out, but I took over the details and then sent Steve to sign-up for the Mini-trekking. When we found him a few minutes later, he was set, but Pancho and I were disappointed. We had read that the tour offered mini-trekking for all ages and abilities, but not so. But then we headed to La Cocina, which that evening was warm and wonderful and the perfect end to a long day.
So Saturday morning (FYI, assume any conversation in El Calafate is in Spanish. We found that while most people spoke at least tourist English, they truly appreciated and supported our desire to practice and improve. Ana and Pablo at the Hosteleria Lumpama both speak English fluently, but Ana had told me that we would not be conversing in English once we arrived. Steve had no idea that Pablo spoke English until he needed to clarify something and had concerns about the communication barrier. I said, “speak to him in English.” Steve had no idea he could!).
OK, on Saturday morning we woke up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus that was due to arrive between 7 and 7:30. Steve and I were both beat and dragged ourselves downstairs for breakfast. When I saw the table prepped, with media lunas and cereal, I asked, “Is this for us?” to which Raúl answered, “Sí.” (OK, native speakers, need guidance here, would you use “Esta para nosotros?” or “por” in this instance? Because I used para since it felt like a gift to come downstairs and see everything waiting!)
We discovered, scarily, that Paco loved Tang. And he just told me he really liked the cake with the dulce de leche and the meringue dollops on top. (It was delicious). He liked the idea of it more than the actual cake and he pulled off the meringue and had me scrape off the dulce de leche.
The bus arrived at 7:15 at the door of the hotel, which is up a small gravel hill. As we left, Raúl presented us with our lunches that we had ordered the night before. The bus then continued for 4 to 5 hotels to collect everyone. It seemed to take forever to get to the main road to the Puerto Bandera. Paco passed out, then woke up when we got the to the port. Then, in true Argentine fashion, everyone had to get off the bus to pay the fee for the park entrance, half of the people then went on to a boat that would take them past the huge Perito Moreno glacier, and then half joined us back on the bus, to the other side of the port to take the boat tour of the other glaciers. At this point, a tired Pancho burst into tears and was in the middle of a time-out for hitting me (which he does when tired) when a man said to me in Spanish that he thought he could use something I did not understand. When I said, oh, I am not familiar with that, he explained it was a smack. I smiled and let Pancho keep crying and then the wife said to me as we got off the bus, Pancho is just tired, it is an early start for him. Then proceeded to tell me how impressed she was with Pancho’s understanding of Castellano.
I’ll let Steve describe the boat, but it was impressive. We found again, that Paco gave us special treatment as the purser ensured we found 3 seats together on the upper level. However, unlike previous boats I have been on, most of this boat was enclosed. I suppose the climate is unpredictable. Paco insisted on wearing his life jacket (I am the dorky mom who brings it from the States), but quickly grew tired of the crowds outside and seemed more content to be inside the boat, where, really, we had a perfectly good view. We traveled for about an hour through the impressive Lago Argentino, the largest lake in Argentina (that is this awesome whitened blue due to the minerals from the glaciers), before arriving at a wooded area that now I cannot read on the map. (Mental note, add here later). Here there is a restaurant and a trail to the other side of the point. I took Paco on my shoulders and we hauled out to the end of the trail. It was beautiful. Paco had not been feeling well (and there was a big fight about chocolate on the boat. Steve and I are now convinced it was two mistakes we made as parents (involving chocolate and communication) and as well, the Dramamine we had let him take when Steve took his.) I was concerned about his eating. So I was a bit anxious to get back to the restaurant when it started serving to make sure we had options other than the ham and cheese sandwiches (with, I am not exaggerating, easily had 3T of butter on the bread) that we had brought with us. That, and I had to go the bathroom. Steve and Paco hung out at the end of the trail while I tried to beat the crowds back to the restaurant. I grabbed a table (it was all family style) or rather 3 chairs of 6 and waited for my boys. Steve showed up with a smiling Paco on his shoulders. When they sat down a couple about Mike and Judy’s age, also from Buenos Aires joined us to share the table. For the rest of this conversation, I have to refer to them as Mike and Judy, for reasons that will become clear in a minute. The food was a choice of 3 menus, the plate of the day which was a fried fish with ham and cheese melted on it (ham and cheese seems to be a big thing here, Steve and I are both weary of it), a lomo (nice beef loin) with fries, and a spaghetti Bolognese, all came with soup that was pretty garlicky. Now, the following story was all in Spanish, which makes it even funnier, but if you know my in-laws, and can imagine them there instead of this couple from BA, you will have an idea of the events…
So the soup came and Paco was hungry, so he was picking at his ham and cheese and drinking his water. A few minutes passed and the manager of the restaurant (hereto referred as el jefe) came over and told Steve the sandwich had to be put away and the water. The food was in front of Paco’s plate and Steve and I had already ordered. Steve did not quite understand, but then got it and told Paco he had to wait until our food arrived and we would share it. Paco, burst into tears and then realized there was bread on the table. Finally, our waiter Horatio, brought the water we had ordered. The Judy asked if Paco could have his sandwich since he was a just a little boy and the other food was not ready yet. My eyes filled with tears at her kindness because we had not even exchanged a word before except to motion that there was room at the table. She gave me a hug, called me niña and said, basically, this is stupid. Horatio had come back to say the Jefe said no. Upon which the Mike and the Judy discussed in a rapid Spanish that I could not really get that this was ridiculous, the soup was spicy, there was no kids menu, what did these people think? Paco was 3, not 10 and we had ordered meals for ourselves. I think there were some Spanish words in there that I would prefer not to know as well. Upon which, the Mike decided enough was enough and went up to the manager and basically stayed there, arguing with his hands for several minutes until he returned and said, in Spanish, “La bruja dijo que el niño puede comer lo que quiere.” I think I got that right. Which basically translates as the witch said that the child can eat what he wants. Then we all discussed how not Argentine that was. For me, normally, Argentines own their children as a community. People are fast to give you advice and help and hate to see a child cry. I also find that Steve and I tend to let Paco cry if he is misbehaving and that this is very difficult for the Argentine. The main with the spanking idea is rare (he was probably not Argentine!). They really want us to just hold and kiss him and maybe give him a cookie. Paco is often given cookies or candy in many situation and usually no one will let us pay for them. In an accumulation of 6 weeks of my life here, I have twice, twice, had someone not offer me their spot in line, wave me in front or just stop everything and everyone to help me. My German friend Anne jokes that the Argentine custom of pulling the stroller to the front of passport control is unheard of in Germany, and if anything the stroller just slows you down. I had to laugh as the Germans looked at us strangely in Bariloche and El Calafate, where, between the stroller and having a kid named Francisco, we have often been given special treatment at the German tourist’s expense.
Anyway, the Mike and the Judy felt horrible, and could not believe it. The Mike even tried to buy our lunch. Between their kindness and their fortitude, we felt like in that moment, we had Steve’s porteños parents with us.
We got back on the boat and between the food and the Tylenol, Paco was much better. But he and I still felt horrible and stayed inside most of the time. Glacier report and photos coming soon…I am sorry, I am beat and need to join the boys in a nap. FYI, we are in Trelew now, but sick and pooped. So taking it easy today. Love, Erin
More notes on Bariloche
Steve thought Bariloche was very pleasant. Though the lack of traffic signals he found bothersome. I think they were there, just hard to see. And, like anywhere in Argentina, pedestrians are an afterthought. I find the stroller to be the great communicator and many cars stopped when they saw the wheels. Steve also just commented on all the dogs. Huge dogs, full-bred, mutts, but all huge. Gisela’s house had a total of 7, 5 puppies, less than a week old, their mother, and Guara, Paco’s friend.
One thing I really liked about Bariloche was that I thought the customer service was quite good. We went to a restaurant a couple of times and then the Havanna in town (Havanna is kind of like the Starbucks of Argentina, they are famous for their alfajores, their dulce de leche filled shortbread sandwich cookies); and the staff treated us very kindly. I think they really appreciated the desire and effort to learn Spanish. The Havanna came to know us and I felt attached when we said good-bye!
A couple of funny Spanish things…in the Patagonia they seem to say 2 things that I had not heard as much in BA or Mendoza. The first is: “míravos” meaning, you (the argentine informal “vos”) and “look.” It reality, especially in Bariloche, they seem to use to mean anything confirming, “look at that!” “really?” or “wow” could all be translations. Steve just mentioned that it is the Patagonian version of Che, but I heard plenty o Che in Bariloche as well! The other is “dale” (I think I spelled that correctly” meaning, “c’mon” or “ok then” or any kind of effort to move things ahead.
Also, Friday night in El Calafate, while at La Cocina, pobre Panchito was just exhausted. He ate a ton of broccoli, carne and bread with gusto, but also while falling asleep. We transferred him to the stroller and the little bug passed out cold while we sat at the table. Steve and I then enjoyed dessert with a sleeping Pancho next to the table.
One thing I really liked about Bariloche was that I thought the customer service was quite good. We went to a restaurant a couple of times and then the Havanna in town (Havanna is kind of like the Starbucks of Argentina, they are famous for their alfajores, their dulce de leche filled shortbread sandwich cookies); and the staff treated us very kindly. I think they really appreciated the desire and effort to learn Spanish. The Havanna came to know us and I felt attached when we said good-bye!
A couple of funny Spanish things…in the Patagonia they seem to say 2 things that I had not heard as much in BA or Mendoza. The first is: “míravos” meaning, you (the argentine informal “vos”) and “look.” It reality, especially in Bariloche, they seem to use to mean anything confirming, “look at that!” “really?” or “wow” could all be translations. Steve just mentioned that it is the Patagonian version of Che, but I heard plenty o Che in Bariloche as well! The other is “dale” (I think I spelled that correctly” meaning, “c’mon” or “ok then” or any kind of effort to move things ahead.
Also, Friday night in El Calafate, while at La Cocina, pobre Panchito was just exhausted. He ate a ton of broccoli, carne and bread with gusto, but also while falling asleep. We transferred him to the stroller and the little bug passed out cold while we sat at the table. Steve and I then enjoyed dessert with a sleeping Pancho next to the table.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Adios, Bariloche
Friday morning, I skipped class (gasp) and Paco skipped the Jardín to run some last minute errands and also because Paco and I both had colds. The reality, too, was that I just was not that interested in 2 more hours with Nadina. In end, we got along well, but I found her love of the language was not that of previous teachers I had. We tended to chat instead of talking grammar, which is what I was really hoping to do.
We discovered our flight was late and hung out at Gisela's for an extra hour before Gisela took us to the airport. Gisela was just a wonderful hostess for us and both Steve and I think we will be back. I found Bariloche less than enchanting. But I would go back just to hang out at Gisela's. It was her hospitality and her long time housekeeper/nanny/woman of magic made us feel so spoiled. Marissa made our beds everyday (I just threw the covers up, she actually made them). We had our own bathroom and Marissa dis most of our laundry. We felt so well looked after we hated to leave. And we were coming from the Llao Llao!
We flew out of Bariloche to El Calafate with a small delay. In true Argentine fashion, we were again pulled out of line to board first. Steve sat near the window and stared out as we flew into El Calfate. The Andes were stunning for sure and one could even see a Glacier or two out the window. The hilarious part is that I was on the aisle, there was a connection to Ushuaia that people were barely going to make. So those people ran up to the front the minute the wheels were on the ground. But then, I practically got trampled by two very aggressive people, who were waiting the same 30 minutes for their luggage that we were.
The taxi the the hotel had sent was very kind, and we piled all our stuff in and headed to Calafate. The hotel sits on a hill with a view of the town. The centro, which is not terribly large, is an easy 15 minute walk. Steve booked downtown to book our boat for Saturday and his mini-trek for Sunday. We met him a few minutes later. After learning that Paco was too young for the glacier walk, (one has to be 10), we found a lovely restaurant (ok, not found, it was in Frommer's) called La Cocina. As well, it had a British couple with a little 2.5 year old and they gave me some pointers for activities with Paco.
Tomorrow the boat tour!
We discovered our flight was late and hung out at Gisela's for an extra hour before Gisela took us to the airport. Gisela was just a wonderful hostess for us and both Steve and I think we will be back. I found Bariloche less than enchanting. But I would go back just to hang out at Gisela's. It was her hospitality and her long time housekeeper/nanny/woman of magic made us feel so spoiled. Marissa made our beds everyday (I just threw the covers up, she actually made them). We had our own bathroom and Marissa dis most of our laundry. We felt so well looked after we hated to leave. And we were coming from the Llao Llao!
We flew out of Bariloche to El Calafate with a small delay. In true Argentine fashion, we were again pulled out of line to board first. Steve sat near the window and stared out as we flew into El Calfate. The Andes were stunning for sure and one could even see a Glacier or two out the window. The hilarious part is that I was on the aisle, there was a connection to Ushuaia that people were barely going to make. So those people ran up to the front the minute the wheels were on the ground. But then, I practically got trampled by two very aggressive people, who were waiting the same 30 minutes for their luggage that we were.
The taxi the the hotel had sent was very kind, and we piled all our stuff in and headed to Calafate. The hotel sits on a hill with a view of the town. The centro, which is not terribly large, is an easy 15 minute walk. Steve booked downtown to book our boat for Saturday and his mini-trek for Sunday. We met him a few minutes later. After learning that Paco was too young for the glacier walk, (one has to be 10), we found a lovely restaurant (ok, not found, it was in Frommer's) called La Cocina. As well, it had a British couple with a little 2.5 year old and they gave me some pointers for activities with Paco.
Tomorrow the boat tour!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Link for the House
Here is the link for Gisela's house...
www.quintue.com.ar. She has photos as well.
I couldn't help but post this picture of the sunset last night as seen from the house. Wow, this place is beautiful.
www.quintue.com.ar. She has photos as well.
I couldn't help but post this picture of the sunset last night as seen from the house. Wow, this place is beautiful.
Hace mucho viento: 21 November 2007
The high today was 84, but the wind came in this afternoon and is shaking the house. I cannot believe we only have 2 more nights in this incredible home.
I am disappointed in the school, I have to admit. I think the school in Mendoza was so good that it spoiled me. The school charges us almost 200% of what they pay Gisela and that is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. So perhaps that is part of it.
Today, when we dropped off Paco there was no crying and we had time for a café and media luna before school. Delicious. After school, we ate chorizo (in Argentina it is more like a sausage and is not spicy) in the park.
The scenery in Bariloche is stunning for sure. I cannot believe from this kitchen window I am looking at snow-capped Andes, drinking a cold Rosé because it is so warm. I have been trying to figure out what this place reminded me of and I realized it was Alaska. The majesty, the dramatic vistas. To think that I have seen both is a true gift. But like Alaska there is this feeling of intrusion. When we are with Paco, we blend in better, but yesterday while shopping I had the backpack on, filled with stuff from school and stuff for Paco, and every person selling something on the street shouted, "Hey Señora" as I marched by. I remember seeing Juneau, Alaska and realizing when the cruise ships come in they took up over 1/4 of the town's population. I think this is closer to 50%. And you can pick us out. Boots, warm weather clothing (the Barilochinos (not sure if that is the word) are still confused by the sun this time of year.) backpack and sunglasses. Ah, that is me, a tourist for sure. On the other hand, there is something spectacular about the place. The majesty, the Swiss influence, there is a safety and richness that one cannot ignore. Steve and I were looking in a real estate window and found a home with a view for 200,000 USD. Wow.
Steve is so happy here, I hate to leave. He is getting my cold, and is exhausted (despite a 2 hr nap), but he stared at me and said, "I cannot believe I am here." Paco too, seems to love it. Though I think much of it is Gisela's house. Large and beautiful, full of life it makes us all relax.
Hmm, Maybe I could convince Steve to move. It would certainly improve my Spanish...
I am disappointed in the school, I have to admit. I think the school in Mendoza was so good that it spoiled me. The school charges us almost 200% of what they pay Gisela and that is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. So perhaps that is part of it.
Today, when we dropped off Paco there was no crying and we had time for a café and media luna before school. Delicious. After school, we ate chorizo (in Argentina it is more like a sausage and is not spicy) in the park.
The scenery in Bariloche is stunning for sure. I cannot believe from this kitchen window I am looking at snow-capped Andes, drinking a cold Rosé because it is so warm. I have been trying to figure out what this place reminded me of and I realized it was Alaska. The majesty, the dramatic vistas. To think that I have seen both is a true gift. But like Alaska there is this feeling of intrusion. When we are with Paco, we blend in better, but yesterday while shopping I had the backpack on, filled with stuff from school and stuff for Paco, and every person selling something on the street shouted, "Hey Señora" as I marched by. I remember seeing Juneau, Alaska and realizing when the cruise ships come in they took up over 1/4 of the town's population. I think this is closer to 50%. And you can pick us out. Boots, warm weather clothing (the Barilochinos (not sure if that is the word) are still confused by the sun this time of year.) backpack and sunglasses. Ah, that is me, a tourist for sure. On the other hand, there is something spectacular about the place. The majesty, the Swiss influence, there is a safety and richness that one cannot ignore. Steve and I were looking in a real estate window and found a home with a view for 200,000 USD. Wow.
Steve is so happy here, I hate to leave. He is getting my cold, and is exhausted (despite a 2 hr nap), but he stared at me and said, "I cannot believe I am here." Paco too, seems to love it. Though I think much of it is Gisela's house. Large and beautiful, full of life it makes us all relax.
Hmm, Maybe I could convince Steve to move. It would certainly improve my Spanish...
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