28 February 2006 - Capital and North

Good-day my fellows,

And what of Buenos Aires, Capital of Argentina. It was alright.

No, I jest. An incredible city with stunning architecture and an impressive nightlife. I arrived at the bus terminal in the customary manner dazed, disorientated and over vibrated (I guess not that dissimilar to the sense of violation that a piece of fruit might feel having experienced the process of being made into a Mc Donald’s Thickshake). I wandered in what appeared to be the direction of the city centre, lots of people and traffic. Having encountered a group of protesting activists in some square, outside some grand building (I discovered the next day that they were protesting the building of a polluting factory upriver of a scenic area, contrary to my miscommunicated and assumed idea that they were disputing a diplomatic trade agreement with a neighbouring country) I had the brainwave to post a card which I had been carrying as a bookmark for some days.

Intelligence was that accommodation in BA can be quite tricky at this time of year. I was little surprised to stumble across a "Youth Hostel" so centrally based, with vacancies and reasonably priced (St. Nicholas, Bartolomé Mitre 1619. www.snhostel.com). I discovered that this hostel not only offered the expected services (bed, kitchen, laundry, internet...) but also boasted a very comprehensive traveller information desk. Oh, what fun I had, gathering robust information, setting forth unto the city, making a real meal/hash/pigs ear of some part of what I had set out to do, then taking great pleasure in recounting my obscure happenings to the amused and bewildered desk workers.

Well, during my two night stay I visited numerous grand and stately buildings, the massive and slightly offensive obelisk, the ornate Cathedral with all it’s pomp, the pink palace (Plm crew, truth, Barnett´s and Eddy´s ex-residence has an older cousin), a flea market, the Chambers of Debate, plenty of planty Plazas, the main shopping street, the Docks, the House of Cards (apparently a particularly interestingly decorated neighbourhood, discovered that it is best visited during the day), two clubs (Club 69 on a Thurs, not for the easily offended, a great night) a restaurant and loads more.

However, the highlight was the 9th Julio Avenue, the biggest in the world, with 16 lanes for traffic, three pedestrian crossing islands and more traffic-lighted crossing intersections than you can shake a stick at. Imagine my delight as I spent hours finding excuses to omnipotently cross when and where I pleased. I predict a new city sport for us adrenalin seeking children of this world who were told once too often to go outside and play with the traffic... hmm, hopefully not.

I had planned to stay a few days, but again having flamboyantly failed to meet up with another Raleigh friend, I decided that I had had enough of the money driven smog and that it was about time that I got on with the show, as it were.

So I booked my onward journey with the ever helpful (now somewhat dubious) hostel workers. And then spent the next three days travelling north.

Salta - 20 hours by coach, famous for waterfalls nearby (not enough time), good Empenadas, view from Cerro San Bernardo (best not done in sandals in the unforgiving midday sun), pleasant Sunday craft market.

Aguas Blancas - 10 hours by coach, dumped at 5am in a smelly street, fellow passengers went to sleep. Three hours later were allowed to cross the border by small boat, deposited on a tack retail street which would rival any of London’s Tourist Tack markets in size and tackiness but not in price and desperation. Caught unnecessary taxis. Memorable.

Tarija - I was told 3 hours, felt like more than 6 wending and winding through junglous mountains, no watch so I guess I´ll have to go with 3 hours. This city where I am now is lovely they have carnival on at the moment, how great is that! I’m going to go and observe in my restrained manner. Hmm, I think not, wish them luck. I’ll let you know how I get on...

Laters,

Nuku