Argentina

This is a great summary of Argentine cuisine, the only reason I wouldn’t call it tongue in cheek is that there isn’t enough room in this guy’s mouth what with all the meat in there…

Argentina On Two Steaks A Day

So, Regarding Buenos Aires (A proposito de Buenos Aires). Pants. Elasticated nylon brown pants.

So disappointing.

The film festival notes that “eleven new Argentinian filmmakers merge their talents and perspectives to deliver a quizzically enigmatic portrait of BA considering a conceptual presence rather than precise geography. In the manner of Vigo’s A propos de Nice.”

So, in film festival terms, quizzically enigmatic means rubbish you can’t understand.

One woman was so disgruntled that she asked for a complaint form. The reason being I guess that the international consultant (okay, dream job there, watch films, pick films) was very enthusiastic about the film as he introduced it. What he didn’t say, and maybe he should have, was this:

The film you’re about to see is missing a few elements: Plot, characters, a sense of narrative and any redeeming factors. Even the locations they chose are dull and depressing.

I’ll never forget my time in Anitnegra
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

We’ve just finished our last Spanish lesson, yup, we haven’t had a completely lazy time (just almost completely lazy). Liz headed out this afternoon to drink mate with Cecilia, I, on the other hand, just vegged…. because it’s my birthday and I can do what I like (said in voice of six year old I guess).

We’re off to the Gibraltar bar tonight for a few pints with amigos, and continuing with the goodbyes.

Carnivalia
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

We arrived back in BA, it felt like coming home, the noise, the smells, the sheer amount of people. We’re staying in San Telmo, the hip, boho area, in a room above a bakery. The owner, Jorge, is a friend of Cecila’s (our spanish teacher). He doesn’t advertise the room, but it’s full about half the year. That’s because it’s a really old house, and we get a big room and a big plant-filled terrace. Sweet.

So the other thing this weekend here was the carnival. Not the same as Brazilian carnival, which is faster, this is Murga, with different groups of dancers/drummers/singers from different parts of the city. Each weekend in February there are 30 different carnivals in different areas and tonight and tomorrow they’re all in the centre of the city.

Sadly, for these guys, Saturday was unseasonably cool, 20C and less as it got to midnight.

Sunday picadas
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

So we´re just out for coffee and medialunas, being lazy buggers and all, and we sit outside the cafe maxim in the middle of Tandil, opposite the square. It´s Wednesday, so the weekend is over until tomorrow, when the next one starts, so the town is crowded.

At the table next to us are sitting a group of old men, in their late sixties and more, reading the paper and drinking coffee. Almost every man who walks past who is of a similar age (and many women) is greeted.

Hola viejo (Hi there old man)
Hola negro (Why good morning my dark skinned chum)
Chau flaco (bye skinny)
Hola Gordita (good morning chubby girl)
Nos vemos cabeza (see you later baldy)
Hola gordo (hey fat boy).

This is in no way vindictive, just the normal nickname usage that happens here. First time you here a parent yelling Vení gordito (come here fatty) you think it´s a bit strange but now…

Meet the meat
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

Not, as some might suspect, a spelling mistake… The fogon is the firepit, or in this case, the fire around which Argentines hang, drape or dangle large sides of beef, entire lamb carcasses or, as here, many many sausages.

The folklore festival provided an open air show the other night, and we just had time to see a few acts, smell the chorizo, and chat before the heavens opened and we ran back to the hostel. The next night we went to where the dancing was on, in a big sports hall, a couple of thousand spectators. “we´ll be on around eleven,” the group from our hostel said. We turned up and watched seven different groups (four boys to a group, all between 15 and 18) dancing norteño style. A cross between Irish foot flapping and butch clog dancing, performed barefoot, with the guys dressed in smart jacket waistcoat and tie up top (and a hat), and thin white pyjama trousers with a blanket like an oversized nappy on top of that… honestly.

We left after a couple of hours, oo much smoke and heat. When we got up the next morning we asked one of the adults at the hostel how it had gone, “Oh they´re still there, I had to come home with the little ones at one.” This was at 9:30am, the competition had finished a while back but the dancing carried on until 11am.

That kind of stamina is genetic, and fulled by litres of coke. Just hearing about it made me tired.

Epoca de Quesos
Originally uploaded by mabonora.

place in Argentina that is. After another 15 hours on buses we arrived at Casa Chango hostel in Tandil only to find the ´complication´ that the owner had referred to when we were trying to book a room was that the hostel had been taken over by 51 people in town for the folklore festival, three groups of kids dancing and one group of musicians, all young, and ten adults who seem to do nothing but cook, as you would.

Tandil is famous for two things… a precariously balanced stone which fell over nearly a hundred years ago now but is still fondly remembered (they´ve managed to identify another, not quite so precarious stone now and people visit that one), and Cheese and meats. After a year of bland Argentine cheese we´re looking forward to some real artesenal cheesiness…

Have a look at the hostel link if you can, the building is a great example of what is hidden behind the facade of many buildings here.

Mar del plata?
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

When we arrived in Puerto Madryn (the province of Chubut´s third biggest city, there are only five in all) two days ago it was 35C… roasting, the wind was blowing from the desert to the sea, the beaches were packed. Yesterday it was 25C and the wind was blowing off the Atlantic, we went for a swim anyway, the water was lovely, very few people about and lots of fun waves. Today, back to warmth again. Weird.

We wandered over to Punto Tombo, a penguin colony, there are 170000 breeding pairs, you find them all over the place, in hollows, under bushes, in holes in the ground, just standing around breathing heavily (they don´t sweat much, and have to cool down like dogs). Then you get to the beach and it´s like Blackpool in the fifties, or Mar del Plata in high summer.

After the penguins we went to Gaiman, a Welsh village, for tea. It was overpriced for what we got (all you could eat cakes and tea, we could tell that some of the fellow excusionistas were not happy, this was instead of meat!) but a couple of pots of proper tea with milk hit the spot for me and Liz.

A child´s perfect mountain
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

We said bye to Ushuaia at 6am yesterday. It was pretty chilly, fresh snow on the mountains, a few flakes making it into town… this is full summer here remember.

We spent the last night in a restaurant after being acosted on the street by a grinning rasta (“call me Rasta Max”). Well, he had some dreds but that was about it… and he did greet me in gaelic (he got me there).

The restaurant, called Kuar had massive windows and was on the shore looking south. We had some fantastic Patagonian lamb and then sipped their artesenal beer while watching a trio play some nice celtic music (Spanish, French and Irish).

Then the following morning (yesterday) we got on the bus and arrived in Puerto Madryn at around two this afternoon (yes that´s thirty hours on the buses, but we did have an hour´s break in Rio Gallegos and the four border crossings let us stretch our legs (and worry that we wouldn´t make our connection in rio Gallegos, it´s a dump and the prospect of spending a night there was not a nice one.

Mate at the glacier
Originally uploaded by itsjustanalias.

After eight days on buses, either doing excursions or doing travel on rutas ripias (unmade roads), neither of us felt like doing anything too extensive here in Ushuaia. Yesterday we went to the prison museum, the original colony here was basically a penal colony for two reasons. One, there was the (perennial) border dispute with Chile and they felt that they needed a presence other than the native Yamana indians. Two, they were jealous that England had Australia…

The prison started in the 1890s and closed in the 50s… it then became part of the naval base and now is a museum. The cells in one wing are original and the cells in the other main wing are filled with photos and pictures. It´s hard to believe that we´re as far South as Aberdeen is North… the climate here is much cooler.

Today we walked a couple of hours out of the city to the glacier Martial, it was a cross between Alpine and Lakeland scenery, chilly but beautiful. Mate works as a warmer-upper on a cool day like today. The other thing here is the light… it´s great, clear and soft in the evenings. I finally realised the old camera was, if not dead, then hooked up to a life support machine with a badly wired plug. It was seeing white as pink, so I bought a new compact (Pentax Optio M20 for the geeks). Now I get to play with it in the good light.