We had a casual start, waking up at 7:30 (well me, I had to shower first) to get into a cab at 10. We flew out of Newbury, the airport for domestic travel that is mere minutes from Recoleta. It was a painless effort to check our bags and security was refreshing as there was no need to pull out our laptop and we go to keep our shoes on. The frustrating part was waiting for our gate to be assigned. Eventually it was, and then suddenly we were boarding and leaving on time. We had heard a lot of warnings about Aerolineas Argentina, since they were dealing with pilot fatigue issues and apparently had had to cancel several flights. Looking at the screen was no relief since many, many flights were delayed and a few canceled. I started to think we were in Chicago.
Steve’s entry: One little bit of humor came when we went to board the plane… we walked down the tunnel to the plane, but instead of having the plane at the end, we walked down some stairs and into a waiting bus. We waited for ten minutes for the bus to fill. I swear the bus then closed its doors and moved forward all of 100 feet where we all clamored off the bus and onto the stairs to the plane. (end Steve)
The flight was a quick 2 hrs and included a nice little snack pack of crackers and a cereal bar (these new cereal bars are everywhere here, but they give me heartburn just like the US ones). We landed in Mendoza, climbed down the stairs from the plane and just inside were the baggage claim. Definitely a good airport for those with walking issues. Our bags had to be scanned for foreign fruits and vegetables due to the Mediterranean fruit fly. But they just took our backpacks and then waved us through. Paco seems to allow us to jump a lot of queues.
Unfortunately, the rental car, which we had really struggled over whether to get, took over 45 minutes to get as the only agent working had to help another customer. It was annoying. We should have just gone next door to Avis, but Steve and I were doing that thing were you are both tired and think the other one wants to grin and bear it (we did the same thing in the line at the Uffizi in Florence on our honeymoon, you would think we would have learned by now). We made it into town with no problem, but upon arriving to our apartment, there was no one at the door as promised. I rang the buzzer and the man came out and said in clearly American Spanish “Somos numero cinco” (We are number 5). I said to him in Spanish, so you are not preparing for guests? And he looked at me blankly, could have been my accent. But then I found out he was a student at the school and well, he needed to stay longer.
Steve: We reached the landlord by phone and were told that we would not be able to move into our apartment until 7 (it was now 4 pm). On a positive note, the new apartment is slightly closer to our school and is only a half block from the Plaza España, one of the five central squares in Mendoza which are arranged like the five dots on die. This threw our plans for a family siesta (more importantly, for Paco) followed by a stroll around the city into disarray. Erin: I think we are still recovering from that since my watch just beeped midnight at Paco just came in and gave me Steve’s watch. Steve is passed out on this little futon, with his legs dangling over, trying to get P to sleep.
We ended up walking around for a while, scoping out the location of our schools for Monday morning, grabbing an early meal at a restaurant around the corner , and of course, sampling some local ice cream. At dinner, we ended up having an interesting conversation with a local man, Eduardo, who lived upstairs from the restaurant and told us that he comes there every afternoon for coffee. He noticed our accents and asked if we were tourists, which sparked a long discussion about the state of Argentine politics, the economy, and Mendoza.
Erin: This was all in Spanish and it was a testimony to Steve that he hung in there. Eduardo’s English, while limited, was perfect and clear, but it was only the occasional word or phrase. My accent gave itself away when I said, when referring to my mother, well, the wives always live more. I followed what I learned from Spanish and Mexican teachers and pronounced the v as a b. In Argentina, Chile and Perú, I know for sure, the v is a v and the b is a b. So he took my “las mujeres siempe viven más” as “las mujeres siempe beben más” and said, “really, what does your mother drink?” Steve was the more articulate in this conversation.
Steve: The milanesa (veal cutlet pounded thin, breaded, and pan fried… an Argentine tradition, was terrific. Paco got a hamburger (sin nada… just the burger with no condiments or bun, just how he likes it. The burger was about the size of a regular dinner plate! It was nearly bigger than he, but he liked it. Erin: this is a great improvement over our trip to Ireland. In Ireland, apparently, it is impossible to get a burger without parsley. When the burger arrived yesterday with parsley all over, I steeled myself for the whinnying and the trading. I had ordered myself some very dry chicken in preparation. But no, Paco announced that this was the stuff he liked and ate a bunch of it with a smile. And I was stuck with dry chicken.
Steve: It appears that the prices here in the provinces are lower than in Buenos Aires. I figure that food here appears to be 50% to 60% of the cost of B.A. The local wines at the grocery store go up in price to about AR$ 10, or slightly more than $3… and what great wines they are. Erin: Actually, they started at 4 pesos, but I splurged on the 12 peso bottle.
Back to Erin: From there, we went to the heladería, and Paco proceeded to consume crema de vainilla. The helado itself is yellow, from the vanilla, so when he orders it he always asks for Amarillo. I tried a new chocolate Bariloche, chocolate with walnuts and port. It was delicious, of course.
The apartment is absolutely tiny. It does have a bedroom, but Paco is sleeping on a futon in the family room and we are having trouble getting him to bed. His independence is waning, I guess. The cost is $30.00 US a night, which seemed cheap at the time, but now I am remembering that the place we stayed in Recoleta last year was actually cheaper and substantially bigger (my suegra (mother-in-law) is reading this in disbelief, but it is true). There is no stove and no toaster, just two gas burners and a microwave. I burnt the empandadas trying to warm them in a frying pan. My kingdom for a toaster! Also, we are so spoiled at home, as the hot water heater here is the size of a butane tank under the kitchen sink. Kind of amazing. It is neat and simple and not falling apart. But intimate it is for sure! For 2 it would have been fine. But we are a noisy 3.
I went to the large supermercado and found the aforementioned wine and empanadas. But I was in the very small vegetable section and could not find any cucumber. I asked the man weighing the produce (you have an attendant with a scale weigh it and put a sticker on it in the actual produce section if they had any cucumber. He said not since September, or not until September. I am not sure which. This confuses me, since isn’t cucumber a summer item? I need to ask at the school whether Mendoza is short on produce because they are so careful about importing it. I realized how spoiled I am about getting things all year long at home. Cucumber has been our staple travel vegetable for a while for Paco. It is easy and not sticky and takes little preparation. In Buenos Aires we had bought 5 and they are all eaten (I think Steve and I shared one). I am actually going to have to cook now...
I will post this from the school, where legend has it, they have Wi-Fi.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment