And so to the final leg of the journey, and one which has given some of the biggest highlights of my trip to date.
After leaving Quito (and an unfortunate meeting with those bastards who were in my dorm in Loki in La Paz that I ranted about 2 blogs ago at Quito airport, and an annoying $45 departure tax) I arrived in Brazil. A country that featured highly on my anticipation list, which thankfully didn’t disappoint. It was a relatively short stay in Brazil, primarily because I didn’t anticipate how damn expensive it’d be! Coming towards the end of my trip, this was bad news. Prices were the same, if not more expensive, than London in many places.
I flew into Sao Paulo, arriving at 4 in the morning, where I hoped to get a coach asap to Rio de Janeiro, where I was meeting up with Alan. This is where I had my first problems with the Portuguese language! Just as I was getting fully into my rhythm with the Spanish, Portuguese came along and confused the hell out of me. I’d heard it described as “Spanish gone wrong” (amongst some less politically correct statements!), and I can’t really argue with that. Written down, much of it looks similar to Spanish, however, spoken it resembles Russian more (the Brazilian/Portuguese accents sounds bizarrely Russian). Finding a coach to Rio at 4am in the morning proved more difficult than I thought! Until a friendly English speaking Brazilian chap told me I had to first take a bus to the Sao Paulo central bus station, and from there I could get one to Rio.
The coach took 6 hours, and several things struck me. Firstly, how incredibly beautiful the countryside was. I wasn’t sure the Andes could be topped, but this certainly came close! A series of lush green hills and winding roads with random bits of beautiful coastline with colourful buildings. Secondly, was how much more developed everything was – the roads were flat(!) and smooth, sign posts were everywhere, the coach was as comfortable as I’ve had with masses of leg room (a far cry from Bolivia and Laos), and service stations were just like at home but with better food and coffee. However, the driving was insanely dangerous, more so than elsewhere, I passed several crashes on this coach ride alone.
One of my favourite things about this trip is that I’ve interspersed travelling on my own with meeting up with friends and family. So it was great to meet up with Alan in Rio and spend the next 3 weeks with him travelling to Buenos Aires. Particularly as it meant I could make jokes that most people I meet just don’t seem to get. And we had much to catch up on. In fact it’s family and friends who make going home not such a bad thing! Many people I meet dread going home, infact many people seem to have been travelling forever, you get the impression many of them are running away from something. Dare I say it, I may even be looking forward to working again!
Rio is a city I have mixed feelings over, it was cool to be there, and we had a great time. But it’s not a city I feel I have much of an affinity with, like, say Shanghai and (now) Buenos Aires. In fact I think we both felt that it could have just been a city in Europe. Part of the experience of everywhere you travel to is the hostel you stay in. I remember staying in the shittest hostel ever in Budapest, and my time there wasn’t wonderful. We didn’t stay in a bad hostel, but it lacked an atmosphere really, which wasn’t helped by all the anal signs on the wall saying things like “you wouldn’t throw your belongings everywhere at home, so don’t do it here”, or “this is South America, not Europe, don’t put your toilet paper in the toilet” – it all felt a bit patronising. That said, we met some really sound people there.
One thing you can say about Rio, is that the scenery is stunning. Cities situated on the coast always impress me, seeing the natural beauty mixed in with human development provides a fascinating mix, and whilst the architecture isn’t particularly amazing in Rio, the sheer setting of it made it one of the most stunning cities I’ve seen.
On our day of “doing the touristy things” we headed to Sugar Mountain, where you have views of the city surrounding you. The guidebook says it costs half the price if you climb halfway and get the cable car from there, so this is what we proceeded to do. Only to find when we got there, that the gate was closed with a sign in Portuguese that might as well have said “haha, we thought we’d make you bastard tourists climb all the way up here before letting you know you can’t get the cable car, rather than putting it in the more sensible place at the foot of the mountain”. It did give us an opportunity to see some monkeys that resembled tree swinging rats, and our first glimpse at the stunning views we could expect to see at the top. As well as the comical situation of trying to climb up a near vertical rock face to climb over the fence with people looking down and laughing at us. So we went back down informing our fellow tourists along the way as to what they’ll find at the top. And paid the full amount to get the cable car up. Money well spent. The views around the whole city were pretty incredible. You could also see Jesus, in all his glory. Covered in fucking scaffolding! We came all the way to Rio, only to be denied our chance of climbing up to see the Jesus statue. Not only because of the scaffolding, but also because recent rain had caused mud slides which meant the mountain he stands on was currently inaccessible.
The highlight of Rio, without a doubt, was a visit to the Maracana. Once the biggest stadium in the world, it’s now been modernised to fit a mere 80,000 people in. I wasn’t too gutted about missing out on Jesus, because we were blessed with the luck of seeing a Copa Libertadores quarter final match, between Flamengo (of Brazil) and Universidad de Chile (surprisingly from Chile). The equivalent of seeing a Champions League quarter final in Europe. Brazil (slightly more than Argentina), is the most passionate footballing nation I have been to. Everyone loves football, everyone. Men, women, girls, boys, those in the middle, those neither, all of ‘em. It’s everywhere in the streets, shops, graffiti, on tv, flags hanging from houses. Given the fact we’re both football obsessed, we loved it.
The game itself was one of the most entertaining I’ve ever had the pleasure to see live. Flamengo’s attack was spearheaded by a fat Adriano (who the previous day was left out of the Brazil World Cup squad), and multicolour haired former CSKA Moscow forward Vagner Love (who was also left out of the squad, but this was more expected). They were both shit. They also had former Manchester United “star” Kleberson (who I think was included in the squad), and a goalkeeper called Bruno who likes to score goals. The Chilean side had several internationals who gave us glimpses of how well they’d do in the World Cup. They played excellent, fast, one touch football. Within 20 minutes they were 2-0 up, thanks to their brilliance, Flamengo’s crap defending, and Bruno’s insistence on being shit, yet still making several good saves. Then a changing point, one of the Chileans was sent off for 2 early bookings, and it became the Adriano and Vagner Love show. They were utter crap. Adriano pulled one back, with to be fair a fairly decent header. But then in a matter of 4 minutes I saw 2 of the worst open goal misses I’ve ever seen. One from each of them, both over the bar from a yard out. We found it all the more entertaining, however the 70,000 Brazilians around us were tearing their hair out and shouting in that (often overly) passionate Latino way when in distress. Things got worse after the break, the 10 man Chileans scored again, with a ruthless counter attacking goal. And the crowd were in dispair! However, they soon got behind their team, the singing was deafening, the atmosphere amazing. The Chileans defended stoutly with Flamengo throwing everything at them. Adriano hit the word work twice when it was easier to score, and Vagner Love was substituted to boos. The Chileans were unlucky when Juan scored a flukey long range goal in the final minute to finish 2-3. I think the second leg was a draw and Universidad deservedly progressed to the semis. Adriano, I believe, has since gone back to Italy to Roma. He needs to lose some of those extra pounds. And also respect to the Chilean fans there (all 20 of them) who gave all they had in the face of a barrage of abuse from the Brazilians, with Universidad coloured umbrellas.
I’m not much of a beach person, and well, I thought the famous Copacobana beach was a bit shit. It could have been in Toremolinos to be honest. What were far nicer were Ipanema and Botafogo beaches, which both seemed to fit perfectly with the urban environment, and mountainous backdrop, especially as the sun was setting.
Whilst in Rio, i realised what a mess I looked. It had been 2.5 months since my last haircut (I go every 3 weeks back home), and due to my beard trimmer not charging with Ecuadorian and Brazilian plugs, the beard was very long indeed. So I went to a hairdressers. The whole thing was an experience due to my lack of Portuguese and his lack of English. Now, the haircut took about 25 minutes. The beard trim took about 50 minutes. The whole 50 minutes with a flannel over my eyes so I couldn’t see, as he first trimmed with an electric shaver, before proceeding to sculpt the edges of my facial hair with intricate precision and the meanest looking blade I’ve ever had close to my face (which I only saw once the flannel was removed). He didn’t just do the sculpting process once, but twice to make sure.
After we left Rio, we made our way to Paraty, a place several people had recommended to me. It was beautiful. A tiny and brilliantly preserved Portuguese colonial town which impressed me far more than any of the Spanish colonial towns I’d visited in Peru and Ecuador. We stayed in a beach facing hostel in a very quiet area only 10 minutes walk from the town. With the friendliest most helpful staff I have ever come across in my life! Out of season, we virtually had the hostel to ourselves, it was perfectly peaceful. We timed our visit well as well with a local “religious” festival taking place in the town. I say religious lightly as it all seemed to be about football, boozing and popular music (I guess you could say those 3 are the Brazilian religion, but it is also the biggest catholic country in the world, I think). The festival was great, it had a real community feel, with barely any foreign tourists, just other Brazilians travelling down from Sao Paulo and the surrounding areas. Street sellers were selling beer and Caipirinha’s (one of my new favourite drinks), as people wandered around in high spirits, and watched live music on the big stage, with a different style act headlining each night. The first night was a reggae band, who might as well have been called “We love Bob Marley, and we wish we were him”. Now, I’ve got nothing against Bob, and can appreciate why he’s so legendary, I just struggle to like his music. Particularly as he seems to be every traveller’s idol. I’ve lost count of the amount of places I’ve been to (in Asia and over here) where his music is played, and his picture is placed in some sort of shrine, particularly in “surfer paradises”. Anyway, the festival was fun, and provided us with an entertaining few days where we really felt like we got to know the local culture.
Next up, we had a 21 hour (I think) overnight coach trip to Iguazu, which would normally be quite painful if it wasn’t for the remarkably good Brazilian coaches, and the fact that I’ve honed my sleeping on a coach technique (which still includes the inevitable nodding dog routine). The only downside was our seats being near the toilet, so it stunk of piss. Usually I struggle to get excited about visiting places which every traveller recommends, mainly because the hype leads to inevitable disappointment. Iguazu is a very different matter. The largest waterfalls in the world are situated on the border of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. And wow. They’re immense. Waterfall after waterfall with the meanest streams of water you will ever see. The first day we saw them on the Brazilian side, where you get a long distance view of all of them in their glory. The weather was pretty miserable, which I think added to the impact. The gloomy clouds added to the anger of the falls, as well as the fact the rain meant water levels were higher than usual. On the Brazilian side you walk along a platform that takes you virtually underneath one of the larger falls. Of course we were both unprepared and didn’t bring waterproofs, so got a good soaking. Even the usual hordes of tourists didn’t prevent the awesomeness.
The following day we took a day tour across the border into Argentina, where we were led around by a Brazilian man who resembled Atillio Lombardo (legendary former Crystal Palace caretaker boss for those that don’t know) with a bit more hair. For me, the Argentine side was even more immense. You walk along platforms that hover directly above the falls, giving an even better view of the sheer power of the water. One part, named ‘The Devil’s Throat’, was a particular highlight (although bloody freezing), as you’re engulfed in a cloud of spray from the biggest waterfall you’ll ever see. What struck me was how calm the river is until it gets to the edge, and as it starts to drop it suddenly gets incredibly violent. Again, unprepared, we got a good soaking! From then on you walk over a series of other waterfalls, and at one point the sun came out, creating fantastic rainbows over the already beautiful setting. There was an option to take a boat under the falls, which would have been spectacular, but it was too expensive. Previous travelling experiences have usually seen me taking in cities and general culture, but this trip has allowed me to see some incredible natural beauty, and I’m eager to see more.
Next stop, and our final stop in Brazil was Florionopolis. Everyone I know who’s been to Brazil says you must go there, so it was a bonus that Luke and Joana have recently moved there, and very kindly allowed us to stay in their beachside mansion. Florionopolis is a beautiful island situated off the South of Brazil, connected by the country’s largest bridge. It’s a very up and coming place, a business centre with great beaches and a massive lake right in the centre. It’s also the most expensive place in Brazil. And usually very sunny. Unfortunately it was very much off season during our visit, which meant half the island was closed. We had a great time none the less! Luke and Joana’s hospitality was great, and their house couldn’t be in a better location, facing the water with views of other small islands dotted around. I’m envious! It was a very relaxing time, with lots of eating. One of my favourite things about Brazil were the buffet restaurants where they weigh your food and charge you accordingly, or the slightly different version where you pay a set fee and get the salad buffet and then the waiters come round with all types of meat and fish and pizza and pasta. This gave me my first opportunity to try dessert pizzas! Strawberry and chocolate, banana and chocolate, basically anything you want that’s sweet! Beautiful.
And so after a brief stop in Brazil, it was time for an even briefer stop in Uruguay. I loved Brazil, and feel like I need to explore it further another time when I have a bigger budget, as I didn’t particularly get to know it as in depth as I’d have liked. One thing I do know is that a country so obsessed with football as Brazil, is a country I like! I really want to visit the North which is supposed to be even more beautiful, particularly the Bahia region.
Given the price difference was minimal and the time difference 18 hours, we decided to take a flight from Florionopolis to Montevideo, Uruguay’s capital, which went via Porto Allegre. Montevideo (and subsequently in my mind Uruguay as it was the only place we went to) is a very bizarre city. Whereas Bolivia is a long way behind, and Peru and Ecuador are playing catch up, to Brazil, Argentina and Chile, Uruguay feels like it’s been left behind. It apparently has one of the stablest and strongest economies in South America, however, a visit to Montevideo left us feeling like we were stuck in the late 80s / early 90s. The architecture, the vehicles, the cafes, bars, restaurants, shops, people and pretty much everything there, felt like it had been frozen in time.
It’s a very grey, gloomy and unattractive city – I thought it was great. Infact we extended our stay there by 2 nights, meaning we missed out on visiting the attractive colonial town of Colonia. Ugly large tower blocks, a random arch stabilised by breeze blocks and a statue of a man (not sure who) made up the main square, and the coastline was lined with a series of highrise blocks of flats which made it look like a grim day in one of the rougher parts of Brighton. Yet there was a charm. Everyone, and seriously everyone, was wandering around with a flask of hot water sipping away on a cup of maté. Maté is the tea that is famed in Argentina, that you drink through a spoon come straw device, in a special cup with maté leaves in which is regularly topped up with water. They love it. Argentina has nothing on Uruguay when it comes to drinking maté!
On the Sunday we went to the weekly market, expecting to see a load of local arts and crafts that you usually get at these things. Nope. You could pretty much get anything, as long as it was from pre 90s. Car parts, number plates (which I did get), ugly dolls with their hair missing, empty lighters, dirty clothes, broken alarm clocks, antique scales, unfashionable clothing, football socks of all colours, basically anything the locals could get their hands on they would sell, in this very large market. And then we went to a cafe, none of the clientele were under 60 other than us, the decor was very 80s, the cups didn’t look like they’d been cleaned since the 80s, the coffee tasted like it was from the 80s and the waiter smelt like he hadn’t washed since the 80s. Very odd, yet somehow charming.
Then something very surprising happened. We arrived back at our hostel to find a load of flyers advertising a Pixies night at another hostel in town. Now I know Pixies were originally around in the late 80s / early 90s which kind of fits in with the theme of Montevideo, but this night was very much out of synch with everything else we experienced there. It was like a get together of all the coolest, trendiest and most attractive folk in Uruguay. And the best thing is, we were the only foreigners there. In a very cool hostel bar, they basically played back-to-back Pixies songs, whilst selling cheap beer. And then a Uruguayan Pixies tribute band came on. Now I’m not usually a fan of tribute bands as they’re generally shit, but these guys were good. They played all the Pixies biggest hits, singing in a way that made you think that they probably don’t speak English. It was fun, especially when they invited a “guest” singer on to shout the angry songs in a manic Uruguayan way. Once the band had finished, and they’d run out of Pixies songs to play in the bar, they proceeded to play Sonic Youth tracks back-to-back. Only old ones from the late 80s/early 90s, mind. It was a perfect night out, as well as being completely random.
One downside to Montevideo was the fucking mosquitoes. I’ve never been bitten as much in my life as in Montevideo. Especially whilst sleeping at night, all I could hear were the bastards buzzing in my ear (that and the fat bloke in our dorm snoring), and waking up in the morning with bites all over the exposed parts of my body, which was essentially all my body other than my boxer shorts area (I guess I should be thankful the little fuckers didn’t get in there). The most annoying bite location was on the bottom of my feet, and their most prolific spot was definitely my back.
As mentioned before, our time in Uruguay was very brief, and infact we only went to Montevideo. If it was during the summer, Punte del Este or Punta del Diablo would have been on our itinerary, but it wasn’t. We also missed off Colonia del Sacramento, which sounded very picturesque if not a bit boring. A stay at an estancia would also have been interesting. Uruguay was random and bizarre, and I’d be amazed if I ever found myself there again, but it was also great fun.
From there we travelled to Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina, a place I stayed in for the final 5 weeks of my trip. For the previous 5 months I was travelling very intensely, only staying in places for a few days max. (apart from Shanghai and La Paz)…which believe it or not can prove to be quite exhausting. So with that in mind, along with the fact I was low on funds (thus couldn’t really afford coaches elsewhere), it was winter in Argentina so the south (in particular) was freezing, Buenos Aires is fucking cool, and the small matter of the World Cup to watch, I decided I’d try to really get to know Buenos Aires and stay there. Good decision.
We made our way to Buenos Aires in spectacular fashion, by taking a boat across the River Plate. Well it turned out to be not so spectacular due to the grey clouds and rain hiding the view of the city as you arrive (that in combo with the Guns n Roses covers album played on the boat), but it was a good way to arrive in the city none the less, particularly from distance with the sillhouette of the city on the horizon. Buenos Aires is a wonderful city, that I put up there with London, Berlin and Shanghai as my favourites for sure. It has a very European feel to it, but with a South American twist. If you haven’t been, go.
My original plan was to move around different hostels in the city to get to know different areas. This hasn’t happened! We checked in at The Art Factory Hostel, and I stayed there until I went home 5 weeks later. It’s a really great hostel, probably the best I’ve stayed in. Based in San Telmo (more on San Telmo later), the building is an old doss house that used to be inhabited by budding artists. They used to pay their “rent” by decorating the walls with their art work. So each room, each corridor, the bar, reception, common room and the outside terrace area has the signature style of a host of different graffiti and stencil artists covering all the walls. It looks cool. But the art aspect doesn’t stop there. The bar hosts live music 4 times a week (acoustic music during the week from resident musicians, and a whole variety of local bands at the weekends which sees lots of locals in the bar). Other less regular nights include alternative film nights, puppet shows (surprisingly entertaining), poetry reading (a bit wanky), Jenga tournaments, BBQs and lots more.
That’s all great, but what really makes the hostel are the people. The style of the hostel tends to attract a more cultured traveller rather than the party-centric Millhouse hostel down the road, I definitely met some sound people there. And I was there so long, the staff all became good friends, Argentine friends. Which helps to add some local authenticity to the experience. One man in particular is the soul of the hostel, Teo. He’s the entertainer, but not in a superficial way, everyone who stays here loves him. As well working the bar and playing his own brand of acoustic folk love songs (great voice and song writing ability), he takes you on tours of the city, and generally initiates fun by bringing people together. Particularly with nightly trips to La Puerta Roja (The Red Door)! A local bar in San Telmo where I have spent many a night mixing with fellow travellers and local Argentines whilst drinking Quilmes (Argentine lager), Fernet (my new favourite drink, a minty spirit mixed with coke from Italy), and red wine (it’s pretty damn good over here), and playing endless games of pool. He also seems to have adopted an English accent in my honour! Another regular musician in the hostel, Gracia, is destined for good things, I’m sure. Like a female Bright Eyes, she has a stunning voice, as well as an affectionate onstage presence which inevitably sees her stopping midway through songs to say “fuck” as she goes slightly wrong. If she refined her act, it wouldn’t quite be the same. I was honoured that on my last night of seeing them, they dedicated songs to me.
Teo also got me a job in the hostel! My first ever job as a barman, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. At the weekends I opened the bar, and working during the football. Given my main daily past time during the world cup was watching football, it kinda made sense. But I have the added bonus of getting free accomodation and half price drinks and meals. It never gets too busy during the day, so has hardly been strenuous, but I’ve enjoyed it none the less. Particularly working during the Argentina v Mexico game, which was a great atmosphere. In fact watching the World Cup in Argentina in general was wonderful. They have such passion for their football, yet without unrealistic expectations (take note English). They love Maradona, the guy is an utter legend, and will back him all the way. But they still approach every game with a caution that I respect. I mean the attacking talent in their squad is 10 times that of the England squad – can you imagine the ridiculous hype we’d have here if we had a Messi, Higuain, and Tevez? A large screen was set up in Plaza San Martin to watch every game, but I just enjoyed watching the Argentina games in the hostel bar with my new found Argentine friends. The best moment was when Martin Palermo scored against Greece (I think) and a room fully of fully grown men (Boca Juniors fans) started crying, the guy’s a legend to them, and they shared his emotion. In England we’d probably throw beer over each other whilst we sung about god and the queen, even though we aren’t religious, or royalists.
My only problem with the locals is the language. I felt pretty confident whilst in Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador with my Spanish, as it’s very pure there, which whilst not being great, was allowing me to have regular conversations with locals. Here they speak Castellano, an extremely fast version of Spanish which has new words, mixes up syllabals, odd pronounciations and a great ability to make several words into one. The ‘ll’ sound in Spanish is pronounced with a ‘shj’ sound, as is the letter ‘y’ when used at the start of a syllable. Confusing, and slightly demoralising! Argentines though, are definitely the friendliest bunch I have come across in my time away. I’ve also met some other locals who have shown me other parts of Buenos Aires that I may not have necessarily seen if I didn’t meet them. And if I come back (which hopefully I will) I won’t be short of people to hang around with!
So, Alan stayed here for 5 days before we said an emotional goodbye and he headed home. Before then we went on an art tour of San Telmo. San Telmo is like the East London of Buenos Aires, for me the coolest and most interesting part. You speak to the majority of people who have visited the city and they’ll say “you must go to Palermo!”. Which you should, it’s quite nice, but San Telmo is a whole lot more interesting. Palermo is like West London, refined, posh and pricey, and all about shopping (overly priced shopping), as well as expensive cocktail bars. San Telmo on the other hand is grittier, with a much more alluring charm and an air of creativity all over the place. The small streets (many cobbled) are decorated with graffiti, lined with cafes, small bars and restaurants, indoor markets, modern art galleries, musical venues and tango halls amongst many others.
On Sundays, the main street in San Telmo, Defensar, hosts one of the coolest markets I have ever been to – local artists, designers and entrepreneurs sell their hand made goods, amongst general bric-a-brac, as well as street entertainers, tango dancers and musicians. It has a great vibe.
Another cool thing to do in Buenos Aires is to see a show by La Bomba. La Bomba are a local, predominantly percussion focused latino funk/jazz/dance band that play a redidency at the “Ciudad Cultural Konex”. In a trendy East London urban type venue, I saw Santiago Vasquez and La Grande play a 2 hour set. Santiago Vasquez is a member of La Bomba, and in his silver jump suit conducted a band of 15 drummers, trumpet players, guitar players, singers and percussionists wearing yellow jump suits. It was fully improvised, adding a cool latino edge to some funky jazz beats, and an all round great night of dancing. In fact the music scene in Buenos Aires in general is very good (much like the art scene). One night, in a bar called Guebara (see what they did there?), I stumbled across an improvised/experimental electro group, that played along with a crazyily random, yet talented violinist, and a woman that sung random words into a microphone when she felt like it. It was really really good.
A trip to Malba, the museum of Latino modern art was really interesting, and inspirational. Whilst I was there, there was an exhibition by American photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe, who produces very stylised black and white photography that mixes portraits of famous musicians, artists, models and actors (such as Talking Heads, Patti Smith, Andy Warhol and Grace Jones) with more risque imagery of homosexual sexual innuendo and full on S&M. It was a cool exhibition, totally unexpected. The building itself is pretty cool as well, and other works there all highly inspirational. Including a wooden bench, connected to another on the floor above with the panes of wood twisting around the whole building before connecting up with the other bench.
I also had to do some touristy things in Buenos Aires. The main one is La Boca, which whilst not being that exciting when you’re actually there, has an interesting story behind it (read the Wiki link). And is incredibly colourful! Infact there’s a cool vibe down there, with street artists and tango dancers all over. But it is very touristy, which I always find quite annoying – although interesting in this case given it’s history of being very poor.
The cemetery in Buenos Aires is a fascinating place to go. Not many cities in the world have a cemetery as one of it’s main tourist locations! It’s not a conventional cemetery of graves in the ground, it’s like a small village of large tombs with small passage ways that are very easy to get lost in. And in each tomb you can see the coffins lying there. The cemetery is also inhabitant by hundreds of cats, who each keep to their own location of the cemetry – many believed to hover round the graves of the family they once belonged to. A number of famous Argentines are ‘buried’ there, including Eva Peron.
And what is Argentina renowned for most (other than Maradona)? Steak and wine! And I had some great wine, but even better steak. I regularly went to a restaurant in San Telmo called Desnivel, where my favourite dish was “Lomo al Mostaza” – a beautiful, thick, tender (and massive) chunk of steak with Spanish potatoes in a mustard sauce. The meat in Argentina really does live up to it’s reputation. I’ve stories such as the cows are massaged, fed the best grass and probably read bed time stories to keep them happy. Whatever they do, they do it right. And in Desnivel, it’s unbelievably cheap for what you get. If you’re in Buenos Aires, go! The guidebooks recommend one called La Cabrera, which sounds great, but is probably the same standard as Desnivel, but a lot more expensive. Although you do get free champagne on the door, so perhaps that’s a reason to go. Although it’s very much aimed at tourists, whereas Desnivel has a great local vibe to it.
It wasn’t just the steak though. All over the city (particularly in San Telmo) were small parillas, which are small eateries with BBQs in, cooking all kinds of meat from steak, to pork, to chorizo, chicken and more. Very cheap, and again, delicious. A regular parilla I visited was Freddies, but on a visit to another one in San Telmo an incident happened that you would never see over here, or the States or any developed country really. The chimney to the BBQ, which ran all the way through the middle of the residential flats above, set on fire, with smoke coming out of the next 2 floors up. The woman who owned the parilla was going crazy, showing that latino passion. In fact everyone was going pretty crazy apart from one guy who kept his cool and tried to put it out. An Argentine friend I was with rang 911 to get the fire brigade down. Unbelievably, they wouldn’t pick up the phone until the 4th attempt, and that was after about 30 seconds of ringing!
And so, after 5 weeks in Buenos Aires / 4 months in South America / 6 months away all together, it was time to come home. And I now find myself in Eastbourne. What a fucking contrast. It does feel weird being home, but as I said before, there is only so long you can go away for when you don’t particularly have an aim. I think any future travels will be concentrated on one area that I can really get to know, and will also hopefully involve some working element. It’s been a great 6 months, one of diverse continents, cities, natural beauty, man made wonders and people, but for now I’m happy to be back with friends and family (and to be planning the next trip – probably Colombia and Central America).
