Viva Mexico

In the morning my friend turned up but had to rush off to a meeting.  She did give me a recommendation for a hostel – Hostel Recoleta. So I went to check it out.

The hostel was in budget, had a great kitchen, nice rooms, bathrooms, was quite and had a huge TV in the chill-out area. I thought I´ve found the place for the next two weeks.

The first evening I was heating some pitta bread in a dry frying pan as it was under done.  I then got a lecture from an argentine guy regarding pitta bread.  How it was suspose to be like that, he didn´t even look at the bread to pass judgement.  I did explain how I was English and we do have pitta bread and I have eaten it quite a few times.  But no the lecture continued!

Of the argentine girls in the hostel, one is quite friendly but the other is quite cold and stand offish. 

The hostel generally was very quite with few guests.  But there are 5 mexican girls staying there and some have mexican friends elsewhere in BsAs.  They certainly make the hostel feel full, with their laughing, singing, joking etc.  I remember back to the guys I met up in Capilla del Monte and how they were saying they wish the Argentine girls would smile.  Most just seem to have a frowns.

Earlier in the day I´d bought some chilis and the mexican girls were cooking, I gave them some chilis and I had some instant amigas.  We managed to polish off the beers we had, they were Mexican after all.  I went out with Gris and Laura to find a bar to have some more beers.

While in the bar we heard some Colobian girls talking, cha cha cha……..  Such a beautiful rhythm and music to the Colobian accent.  Mexican spanish I love as well and castellano (proper castellano).  I´ve talked to a lot of spanish speakers and the opinion is that there are not many people who I´ve taked to like the Argentine accent/dialect.  At the best of times it sounds Italian at worst it is dry/flat mumble with sh sh sh…. 

Could the language have something to do with the vibe of the people!?

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Buenos Aires the return

Spot the missing flag? – ¿Cual bandana falta?

Arriving in Buenos Aires was a bit of a shock, Córdoba was a bit more chilled and I forgot about the Porteño sense of spacial awareness or should I say lack of it.  Imagine an elephant that thought it was the size of a mouse and you´re getting there.

I was now carrying an extra bag with things I´ve bought on the way and was feeling a bit vunerable.  The other thing was I managed to arrive in Buenos Aires for rush hour.  Fantastic!

I managed to get to the right platform only to find a train had just arrived and I was swiming upstream.  I managed to find a corner to wait out the rush.

I managed to get to my friends place and picked up the keys from the kiosco.  I was now 6pm and my friend was due back at 7pm.  After a quick look around for a hostel I went back to her flat as I had the only set of keys.  I finally managed to get in touch with her and she was not going back to the flat so I crashed at hers.

I really didn´t want to rush into a hostel only to move again if I didn´t like it.

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Rosario – La Lechuza

I was recommended the La Lechuza hostel by the guys I met in Capilla del monte.  The refered to it as the owl, but I knew owl in spanish was Búho, turns out it is a barn owl.

The first night in the hostle was busy, as the owner was cooking and invited his friends, most of whom refused to speak spanish with me, but would speak in English.  I keep hearing from the Argentines about their pride in that fact they speak “Casteshano” and I´ve had arguments with them when they say it is the same as the castellano in Spain.  It´s clearly a dialect of Spanish.

One of the main places you get to speak in Spanish is in the hostel and with only 2 weeks left I wanted to make the most of my time here.  The second night in the hostel there was hardly anyone there.  I was speaking spanish with the owner but two argentine girls would refuse to speak spanish with me. 

Maybe when they talk of their pride and passion they are just paying lip service the this beleif.  Either way I´m moving on.  La Lechuza is a great hostel but some of the staff and people there are strange.    

My general comments about the people here would be they are either super nice or strange/rude/etc.

Córdoba for the weekend – Saturday night

Ok Saturday was a killer, recovering from an hangover.  I did have the intension of staying off the beers but it was Saturday night after all.

The guys in the hostel were going out again.  Again I fell victim to the same problem of things starting so late.  I got throught to 2am when the guys were ready to leave but this time I didn´t make it out of the hostel.

I am now very aware that I only have 3 weeks left and I need to get on with looking for work.  Got my ticket to Rosario for tomorrow.

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Córdoba for the weekend – Friday night

Gold members Shex shop. Pancake, Shmoke!

I keep missing weekends by either by being somewhere dead or by travelling.  Now I´ve timed it right for a weekend on the town.  The problem I find here is being by myself it´s not too easy to go out and not be stuck on a table alone.  They generally don´t to bars in bars and people tend to go out in groups.

I got talking to some guys in my hostel and they said that they were going out and I should join them.  Sounded like a great offer.  I cooked at about 8pm and had some wine.  The guys were no where to be seen.  There was a Argentine girl in the kitchen so I was talking to her.  The guys turned up and started to cook.  I got on the beer as I thought we would be on the way quite soon.

I probably need to mention that the guys were Argentine, Colombian, Mexican and Spanish.  So obviously there are differences in cultures.  They were also younger than me.

They finally servered their food at 11:30.  I got another beer, we would be on our way soon!  After the meal they went to buy Fernet and cola.  I was now getting tired, but one thing I don´t get tired of is telling the Fernet Triple bunk puke story.

I finished my beer and they put a dent into their Fernet.  I asked when we were going and they said half an hour.  I got myself another beer.  Half hour passed and I got roped into playing table football.  I really wasn´t sure if we were going to even get out of the hostel.  There was one good thing though, the new hostel was in the heart of the area with all the bars and clubs, so we will have a short walk to the club.

More beer more table football, and I was thinking of crashing out.  But, no.  Everyone was now ready at 2:30am to go out.  We left the hostel and followed the guy who knew where the club was.  We walked through the area with all the clubs and kept walking.  We crossed the square and were headed to where my old hostel is and to the red light district.  We finally got to the club and the guy got us in for free.

Good job that he got us in for free because there must have been no girls over the age of mid twenties and most were Argenteens.  That and the fact I was now pissed didn´t look good for me pulling.  I left to go back to the hostel!

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Capilla de monte

After being promised climbing, mountain biking and fishing by the tourist information in Córdoba, I arrived in Capilla de monte to find none of these on offer.  It was low season, and it was cold and quiet.  Not a good start for writing an interesting post!

I paid for two nights when I arrived, Córdoba is quiet during the week and there seemed little point in going back.  Walking around the “town” if you can call it that it is all very new age.  advertisements for yoga lessons, crystals for sale, you get the picture.   As an option I went on a local walk to see some strange rock formations and a dam.  Well not so strange as it turns out.

There were two other guys in the hostel Markus and Ciaren, we were almost the only guest there.  The guys were a good laugh and they said there were going to have some drinks that night.  Had a good time with the guys and they said they were heading to Córdoba the next day so it seemed a good idea to go with them.

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Córdoba

I arrived late in Córdoba on a Saturday night, my first choice hostel was full and I was recommended Pomelo.  Not the fruit but a family run hostel just down the same road on San Martin number 634.  I instantly liked the place.  It had more of a feel of a house rather than a hostel.  I used the internet in the hostel to catch up on a few things and crashed out.

Sunday in Córdoba was dead and I mean dead.  The  streets were empty and I was even difficult to find a supermarket.  I couldn´t organise anything, so that would have to wait until Monday.  May as well go out and try and find a bar.

There are quite a lot of bars in Córdoba, but these were empty as well.  Well it was Sunday.  I had a few drinks and made my way back to the hostel.  It was then I realised where the hostel was.  Bang in the middle of the red light district.  There was one puta on the same side of the street as me with the biggest….. As I got closer she didn´t look that good.  Then I got closer and she didn´t look like a “she”.  When I was living in Madrid there were loads of transsexuals on Montera.  Some were, I must admit, drop dead gorgeous others just looked like they were going to drop dead.   This one she was definitely in the latter group.

Monday in Córdoba was a different story the streets were full of people and the shops were open.  More importantly so was the tourist information.  Seems like Capilla del Monte was the place to be for, mountain biking, rock climbing and fishing.  I checked out the bus times at the station and I have my plan for tomorrow.

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Tucumán

I could easy stay in Salta, I know the place and it´s chilled, but I realise that time is ticking away.  I did get a recommendation for Tucuman way back in Rosario so I thought I would check it out.

I stayed in the recommended hostel for the first night, after arriving at about 10pm.  The day after it was full so the staff in the hostel recommended the hostel that used to be the old Hotel Congreso.  It has some really nice art deco features but also a feel of a prison with its big open patio and steel railings etc. 

Time to move on again.  Off to Córdoba.

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Safe in Salta

When I was in Salta 3 years ago I do remember seeing loads of stencil art, but it seems like most of the city has been cleaned of it.  I did find some really nice pieces of graffiti though.

I manage to pick up quite a few mosquito bites in the south of Bolivia, which are now itching like hell.  The more a read about Paraguay, the more I seem to be reading about mosquitos, may just give it a miss.

I did see on the news that Mexico has band Narco Corridos.  Mexico is a country I love and I hate to see what has happened to it over the last few years.  I´ve never been a big fan of Mariachis, but less so when they sing about drug trafficking.  Good move Mexico.

Maybe my taking notice of things outside of the contry I´m in it a start of realising my time here is running out.

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Me and my shadow

I left my hostel and got a taxi to the bus station.  I asked around and there was a bus leaving for Bermejo.  I was told it was leaving “ensegida” right now.  The real meaning of the word ensegida turned out to be in half hour.

Some guy got on the bus with that disorder where the skin looses its melanin and you have this blotchy white patches on the skin.  I can´t remember what it is called buy you get the idea.  Well he was quite dark for a Bolivian and he had at a guess 50 coverage of pigment loss.  So he was quite distinctive.  He introduced himself and offered his hand, seem harmless enough so I shook hands with him.

It is quite common in Bolivia for guys to say hello etc. at times there is some other motive.  I was travelling on a none tourist route to the Bolivian border, that is known as a drug route so as you would imagine I was suspicious.   We stopped several times and the guy would always come over to talk to me.

We eventually arrived at in Bermejo and I went to get my kit from under the bus.  The guy was there again, I was being very abrupt with him but he was still there.  He was suggesting we go for a drink.  The first thing what came to mind was that he would say that he has a friend in Agentina and could I carry a packet over the border for his friend, that old story.

Well I managed to give him the slip or so I thought.  I checked into a hostel and was coming down to the reception and the guy was there again.  Beautiful!  I went back to my room and after about half an hour there was a knock on my door.  I dreaded opening it thinking it was that guy.  It wasn´t it was the owner.  He said his wife told him about the guy and that the guy was asking about me and what room I was in and said he was my friend.  The owner said the guy doesn´t know which room I was in, the migration police were next door, I would be safe but if I wanted he would give me my money back for the room and get me a taxi to another hotel.  With the owners thoughts in my wellbeing I felt safe where I was.  I didn´t get much sleep and I was up early for my trip to the border.  I thanked the owner for his help with the situation and got a taxi to the international bridge. 

Rivers are natural borders and natural transport routes, but also natural barriers.  Not an easy border crossing.  After getting my exit stamp I had a 1 km walk to then entry into Argentina.  There were lots of taxis about but not casas de cambio.  I had a walk of about half km to Aguas Blancas and there was a bus for Salta at 12:50.  I asked around for a casa de cambio and they were all on the other side of the river.  They told me that the shop on the corner may change some Bolivianos.  I had a chat with the guy in the shop and he changed my Bs for pasos Ar with a resonable rate.

Not a recommended border crossing if you don´t speak Spanish.