Today is my last full day in Chile. Tomorrow, at about 4pm I will cross the border into the Argentine Andes without immediate plans to return. I´m devastated and in the last few days have been eating lots of empanadas, buying foolish toursity recuerdos and listening to the beautiful chanting of chilean spanish as I walk down the streets, already anticipating the nostalgia. Sigh.
The desert was bakan (chilean slang = fucking awesome). The weather was muder on my body, there were an insane amount of tourists and it was absurdly expensive to buy anything. But it sure is fucking beautiful. This really can only be expressed in pictures, but y´all will have to wait. I went sandboarding en el Valle de la Muerte, saw saturn and the amazing desert stars through a fancy telescope, went to the 3rd biggest salt flat in the world and hung out with chilean flamencos and saw the lagunas antiplanicas. It was all beautiful. After a few days though I was burnt out on San Pedro. I said goodbye to my big comfy hostel room and bought a bus ticket to Iquique. Iquique is a surfing town about 8 hours from San Pedro. I crashed at a great hostel right on the beach and spent two days doing next to nothing. The people in the hostel were awesome so I spent most of my time alternating between lying on the beach, and eating and drinking with my friends in the hostel. It was a nice relaxing break from my busy and exhausting days in San Pedro. Plus, the beaches are sooo beautiful.
I got back to Santiago yesterday in time to meet Javi, a chilena who was an exhange student at Bethlehem, for lunch. We talked about the Sagor house, the Bentley house and what it feels like to be a forigner in Chile, and in the US. She sends her love back to everyone from BC. Then last night Julie and I finally got vegetarian food and it was amaaazing. I moved out of the hippest hostel in the world and moved back into the place I stayed when I first got to santiago four months ago. Just to frame the trip nicely. Its so much better here. Everyone is friendly and relaxed, there is laundry, there is a rooftop deck and the breakfast comes with fruit. Anyway I´ve got to go because I´m waiting for Aquiles to pick me up. My last day in Chile will be spent with a chileno I met who worked at the last hostel (I guess it did have some nice stuff to offer). He claims to be a mountainista and is going to take me to the cordillera for a hike. I have packed an empanada de pino. Obvio.
Although its the end of my stay in Chile, its not quite the end of my blog or my adventure. Tomorrow I get on a bus to Mendoza, Argentina and on Monday I will land in Buenos Aires. Expect to be updated with stories that include famous argentine beef and wine, lots of gringo friends, fun exciting adventures in BA, and some kind of 21st birthday celebration with a combination of old friends, people I´ve met along the trip and probably some perfect strangers.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
una semana de superlativos
So I thought that maybe my last week hadn´t been all that exciting, which is why I hadn´t felt compelled to write a blog entry. After some encouragement from Lee, I decided it was time and in the process I realized I had a week full of exciting (or not so exciting) superlatives.
Hostal Forestal: the hippest hostel in the world. It actually said on the flyer that it was "one of the 5 hippest hostels in the world." I was obviously suspicious, but my German friend who I was traveling with was really excited about it. It was cheap and came with all the necessary ingredients (a comfortable bed, internet, breakfast, storage, a safe-box, a TV so I could watch my novela, 24 hour reception, a printer) but I hated it. There was loud music playing on the bottom floor, crappy breakfast, only english speaking travelers who always came home as I was waking up in the morning, a new person at the desk every day, and generally had no character. Still, I was too lazy to move and stayed all week. Plus, I ended up meeting some people I really liked including a receptionist who offered to be my guide and take me hiking when I come back to Santiago and a really handsome Canadian who wants to celebrate my birthday with me in BA.
Aire Libre: the cooolest cafe in Santiago. I know you´re thinking it will be hard to prove that this is true, but I beg to differ. Sunday night I finally decided I should eat dinner and wandered out of my hip hostel at about 10 to search for something. I ended up walking by myself to Bellavista, a neighborhood full of cool cafes and bars. I wasn´t really planning on sitting down and eating a whole meal by myself but the place just caught me. There were colorful tables, reasonable prices, adorable waitresses, and a lovely man singing classic chilean music with his guitar. I spent an horu and a half enjoying my quiche, my Allende novel, and the live music. The next night, Rodrigo, a guy I met with my family in the south, offered to take me out. I have the cooooolest place, he explained. I got out of his car only to discover he brought me to the safe cafe, but at a different location. I ordered the same quiche and few beers and we sat for hours listening to yet another chileno with a sweet voice and revolutionary chilean music.
El Desierto Atacama: the driest desert in the world. Okay so I don´t actually have the proof to substantiate this one. Somoeone did say it to me, but I feel like it was just a symptom of how chileans like to exagerate about their land. I finally did make it though, and it is pretty dry. I woke up yesterday morning with crackling dry skin, and a weird head ache. NOt only is it dry, but super high up so you need a day to adjust to the altitute. I had lots of pancitos for breakfast and spent most of the day sitting down, and today I feel fine.
Chuquicamata: the biggest open pit copper mine in the world. Now, you wouldn`t think that a copper mine would be a big tourist spot. Honestly, its not because to get there is a bitch. I had to stay overnight in this ugly town, and basically devote my whole day to the tour since it was smack in the middle of the day and becuase there´s nothing else to do in Calama. But Chris insisted it was worth it, so I had faith and waited it out. It was pretty cool. The mine is 5km long, 3km wide and 1km deep. You also get to see the abandoned mining town they built and then abandoned right next to the mine, and the BIGGEST trucks in the world (two superlatives in one day!) that carry all the copper. Not surprisingly, this company produces the MOST copper in the world which ends up to about 1/7 of the world´s production (okay, 3 superlatives).
Sumaj jallpa: the nicest 7 luca dormitory bed I´ve ever seen. My hostal was in a pamphlet of recommended hostels that has not disappointed me thus far. After two warnings from chileans that have a skewed sense of distance that the hostal was too far, I decided to make the 10 minute trek anyway. The adorable woman at the desk apologized and informed me that all the dormitory rooms were taken, but she could offer me something else for the same price. This place is adorable, clean and desert-y and I have a private room including a private bathroom with two beds (one, big one for sleeping and a small one for my belongings). I´m probably never going to leave.
As you can see, everything is good. I hope to spend my next five days in the desert doing a variety of inordinately expensive activities that include some combination of salt flats, sandboarding, archeological tours, 4am geysers and then finally coming home every night to watch my novela and sleep in my big comfy bed.
Me queda muy poco.... (I should be in NY on May 10th).
Hostal Forestal: the hippest hostel in the world. It actually said on the flyer that it was "one of the 5 hippest hostels in the world." I was obviously suspicious, but my German friend who I was traveling with was really excited about it. It was cheap and came with all the necessary ingredients (a comfortable bed, internet, breakfast, storage, a safe-box, a TV so I could watch my novela, 24 hour reception, a printer) but I hated it. There was loud music playing on the bottom floor, crappy breakfast, only english speaking travelers who always came home as I was waking up in the morning, a new person at the desk every day, and generally had no character. Still, I was too lazy to move and stayed all week. Plus, I ended up meeting some people I really liked including a receptionist who offered to be my guide and take me hiking when I come back to Santiago and a really handsome Canadian who wants to celebrate my birthday with me in BA.
Aire Libre: the cooolest cafe in Santiago. I know you´re thinking it will be hard to prove that this is true, but I beg to differ. Sunday night I finally decided I should eat dinner and wandered out of my hip hostel at about 10 to search for something. I ended up walking by myself to Bellavista, a neighborhood full of cool cafes and bars. I wasn´t really planning on sitting down and eating a whole meal by myself but the place just caught me. There were colorful tables, reasonable prices, adorable waitresses, and a lovely man singing classic chilean music with his guitar. I spent an horu and a half enjoying my quiche, my Allende novel, and the live music. The next night, Rodrigo, a guy I met with my family in the south, offered to take me out. I have the cooooolest place, he explained. I got out of his car only to discover he brought me to the safe cafe, but at a different location. I ordered the same quiche and few beers and we sat for hours listening to yet another chileno with a sweet voice and revolutionary chilean music.
El Desierto Atacama: the driest desert in the world. Okay so I don´t actually have the proof to substantiate this one. Somoeone did say it to me, but I feel like it was just a symptom of how chileans like to exagerate about their land. I finally did make it though, and it is pretty dry. I woke up yesterday morning with crackling dry skin, and a weird head ache. NOt only is it dry, but super high up so you need a day to adjust to the altitute. I had lots of pancitos for breakfast and spent most of the day sitting down, and today I feel fine.
Chuquicamata: the biggest open pit copper mine in the world. Now, you wouldn`t think that a copper mine would be a big tourist spot. Honestly, its not because to get there is a bitch. I had to stay overnight in this ugly town, and basically devote my whole day to the tour since it was smack in the middle of the day and becuase there´s nothing else to do in Calama. But Chris insisted it was worth it, so I had faith and waited it out. It was pretty cool. The mine is 5km long, 3km wide and 1km deep. You also get to see the abandoned mining town they built and then abandoned right next to the mine, and the BIGGEST trucks in the world (two superlatives in one day!) that carry all the copper. Not surprisingly, this company produces the MOST copper in the world which ends up to about 1/7 of the world´s production (okay, 3 superlatives).
Sumaj jallpa: the nicest 7 luca dormitory bed I´ve ever seen. My hostal was in a pamphlet of recommended hostels that has not disappointed me thus far. After two warnings from chileans that have a skewed sense of distance that the hostal was too far, I decided to make the 10 minute trek anyway. The adorable woman at the desk apologized and informed me that all the dormitory rooms were taken, but she could offer me something else for the same price. This place is adorable, clean and desert-y and I have a private room including a private bathroom with two beds (one, big one for sleeping and a small one for my belongings). I´m probably never going to leave.
As you can see, everything is good. I hope to spend my next five days in the desert doing a variety of inordinately expensive activities that include some combination of salt flats, sandboarding, archeological tours, 4am geysers and then finally coming home every night to watch my novela and sleep in my big comfy bed.
Me queda muy poco.... (I should be in NY on May 10th).
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
la ciudad de colores brillantes, poesía y cerros
I am in Valparaíso, Chile. Its a two hour ride from Santiago towards the coast. The only thing that is keeping me sane from the tearful parting from Osorno, is the fact that I am completely in love with Valparaíso.
To go back a little, my last three days in Osorno were lovely. The last day was pretty epic. I stopped by the office to drop of a sleeping back I has borrowed and have lunch with my friend Ximena. I planned on saying one last goodbye and then running back home to enjoy my last few hours at home at Los Copihues 1810 before my goodbye bash (read: a feast of carne). Like the last time, it was harder for me to leave than I thought. After a long lunch with a whole group of officemates and an hour of free internet use, I decided it was time. I did my first round of goodbyes on the second floor to the forestales and the agricolas. Me voy, y este vez no vuelvo, I said. I´m leaving, and this time I won´t return. The goodbyes were nice, and not too dramatic. I didn´t have the energy for tears and too much sentimentality. I went down to the first floor to say good bye to Ximena and she wouldn`t have it. No, why do you stay just a little bit longer. I started to get annoyed and then realized she had something up her sleeve. She dragged me to BIGGER with her to get a "snack." When she started buying enormous quantities of food, I realized that this was not just a snack. Despite the fact that they had already planned me a despedida at the office, Pedro had insisted on another one.
At six o´clock (6 hours after my arrival at the office) my party began. I didn´t beleive it was possible, but it was even cuter than the first goodbye. We all stood around in a circle and made lots of "the silly gringa" jokes all together for about an hour. They gave me a certificate for my work at the office and made Renato present it to me, all while they took billions of pictures and chanted KISS HER! KISS HER! Unfortunately all I got was a kiss on the cheek. Embarassing. Eventually I told them I had to go home at catch my bus in a few hours, and I said my final goodbyes to everyone. I promised I would come back and Pedro talked again vaguely about offering me a job. Only if you pay me this time, I insisted.
Then I ran home to find the mesa set one final time for my last meal at home. The in-laws and their son were there and there was a tremendous hunk of meat cooking in the oven. The meal was lovely and we recapped all of the good times together as they appreciated the picture album I made as a going away gift. I ate ravenously, remembering I would never be forced to eat pancitos and carne ever again in my beloved house. We all shipped off in two collectivos to the bus station and my two friends from the office met us there. Talk about dramatic. Imagine me, my huge backpack and ten people all standing around anxiously as we wait for my bus. I almost missed the bus because I had to individually say: te quiero, goodbye and I promise I´ll come back, to everyone. The guy next to me seemed a bit confused as to why I came on to the bus teary-eyed. I slept almost the whole 12 hour bus ride up to the capital and spent the rest of the time looking nostalgically at my hundreds of pictures of my friends and family in Osorno.
Anyway like I said, Valparaíso has enchanted me. It is full of hills, bright colors, cute cafes, great artesanía and poetry. Plus, Pablo Neruda lived here. If you know anything about me, its not suprising why I love it here. I´ve already made plenty of phone calls and sent plenty of cariño in facebook messages back to Osorno, but the enchantment of Valparaíso is pretty good at distracting me from all the wonderful friends and memories I left behind in the south. Plus, there are friends waiting for me here. I met up with Andres and Fabian, the boys I met in Valdivia at the beginning of my trip. They showed me around today in Valpo and tomorrow I´m going to meet them in Viña. Julie is waiting for me in Santiago and up north the Atacama desert is also waiting for me. But even so, I miss Osorno....
To go back a little, my last three days in Osorno were lovely. The last day was pretty epic. I stopped by the office to drop of a sleeping back I has borrowed and have lunch with my friend Ximena. I planned on saying one last goodbye and then running back home to enjoy my last few hours at home at Los Copihues 1810 before my goodbye bash (read: a feast of carne). Like the last time, it was harder for me to leave than I thought. After a long lunch with a whole group of officemates and an hour of free internet use, I decided it was time. I did my first round of goodbyes on the second floor to the forestales and the agricolas. Me voy, y este vez no vuelvo, I said. I´m leaving, and this time I won´t return. The goodbyes were nice, and not too dramatic. I didn´t have the energy for tears and too much sentimentality. I went down to the first floor to say good bye to Ximena and she wouldn`t have it. No, why do you stay just a little bit longer. I started to get annoyed and then realized she had something up her sleeve. She dragged me to BIGGER with her to get a "snack." When she started buying enormous quantities of food, I realized that this was not just a snack. Despite the fact that they had already planned me a despedida at the office, Pedro had insisted on another one.
At six o´clock (6 hours after my arrival at the office) my party began. I didn´t beleive it was possible, but it was even cuter than the first goodbye. We all stood around in a circle and made lots of "the silly gringa" jokes all together for about an hour. They gave me a certificate for my work at the office and made Renato present it to me, all while they took billions of pictures and chanted KISS HER! KISS HER! Unfortunately all I got was a kiss on the cheek. Embarassing. Eventually I told them I had to go home at catch my bus in a few hours, and I said my final goodbyes to everyone. I promised I would come back and Pedro talked again vaguely about offering me a job. Only if you pay me this time, I insisted.
Then I ran home to find the mesa set one final time for my last meal at home. The in-laws and their son were there and there was a tremendous hunk of meat cooking in the oven. The meal was lovely and we recapped all of the good times together as they appreciated the picture album I made as a going away gift. I ate ravenously, remembering I would never be forced to eat pancitos and carne ever again in my beloved house. We all shipped off in two collectivos to the bus station and my two friends from the office met us there. Talk about dramatic. Imagine me, my huge backpack and ten people all standing around anxiously as we wait for my bus. I almost missed the bus because I had to individually say: te quiero, goodbye and I promise I´ll come back, to everyone. The guy next to me seemed a bit confused as to why I came on to the bus teary-eyed. I slept almost the whole 12 hour bus ride up to the capital and spent the rest of the time looking nostalgically at my hundreds of pictures of my friends and family in Osorno.
Anyway like I said, Valparaíso has enchanted me. It is full of hills, bright colors, cute cafes, great artesanía and poetry. Plus, Pablo Neruda lived here. If you know anything about me, its not suprising why I love it here. I´ve already made plenty of phone calls and sent plenty of cariño in facebook messages back to Osorno, but the enchantment of Valparaíso is pretty good at distracting me from all the wonderful friends and memories I left behind in the south. Plus, there are friends waiting for me here. I met up with Andres and Fabian, the boys I met in Valdivia at the beginning of my trip. They showed me around today in Valpo and tomorrow I´m going to meet them in Viña. Julie is waiting for me in Santiago and up north the Atacama desert is also waiting for me. But even so, I miss Osorno....
Monday, April 13, 2009
el bolson y bariloche en fotos
My second seder was adorable and my 50km (yikes!) bike ride with Bobby was beautiful. I´ve spent the past three days finally saying goodbye to Osorno, and tonight after a big carne celebration I´m off to the bus station. I arrive in Valparaíso tomorrow morning and on friday will meet Julie Munro at the beach! Check out the pictures from my week in Bariloche and el Bolson.....
From Cerro Cathedral outside of Bariloche. One week earlier, this was covered in snow (see below). This day, it was sunny and hot and beautiful. 
Victor and I attempted to climb this peak, but the weather wouldn´t have it. 
Our very own asado! Our lovely hippie hostal owner in el Bolson helped us buy the cordero and cook it on the parilla. It was a group effort at it was delicious.
El Bosque Tallado-- a burned forrest on the side of a mountain in el Bolson full of beautiful sculptures. I think that girl is in Meredith Lutz´s sorrority at Cornell. Small world....
Hotel Llao Llao. The lunch buffet cost about $80, so we just took pictures. Beautiful, right?
The vista panoramica that we finally arrived at after 4 hours of biking. It was actually that beautiful. Thursday, April 9, 2009
Judìos, Hippies, y la Cordillera
Things outside Osorno are happening a whole lot faster, and its going to be hard to keep up with the blogging. I´ll try my hardest.
I finally made it on the bus to el Bolson with Sandra and Bill (the older couple I met in Bariloche). It was to this point, the best bus ride I´ve ever experienced. There were incredibly large comfy chairs, fleece blankets, wonderful pillows, a full meal including mashed potatoes of course dulce de leche, little bottles of wine, a movie, a friendly argentine man and AMAZING views of tremendous snow-capped mountains. The clouds didnt even get to me-- it was beautiful all the same. Then we arrived in the cutest little town in time for the saturday fair. It was full of interesting crafts (Amy would have been in heaven), lots of slow-talking, long-haired hippies (Noah would have been in heaven) and cheap homemade beer (we were in heaven). I of course ran into Bobby (the guy from Albany who I met in the BA airport and then again in Barioche) and we were happy to see each other. We had some cerveca artesenal and recapped the 24 hours we had spent apart.
He brought me back to the hostel where he was staying. On the way he explained that the hostel was not much cheaper than the ones in Bariloche, didn`t come with breakfast, didn`t have internet, was a bitchy 25 minute walk from town and only provided cheap mattresses on the floor. But its amaaazing, he asssured me. Turns out he was right. I stayed two nights at La Casa de Viajero, a charming ranch owned by a hippie argetine named Augustine and his wife Laura. During those two days we built a family with all the people staying at the hostel (including Bill and Sandra), had a delicious asado that we excecuted ourselves, took a few beautiful hikes and drank a lot of mate. On Monday it was time for me to move on. Chris, an austrailian who has spent 4 months working at jiminy peak and was also living in Chile, traveled with me to back to the touristy mess of Bariloche. We were sad to say goodbye to all our friends. Bobby and I said goodbye (once again) and promised we´d hang out back in the capital region.
On Tuesday the weather was beautiful, as we had expected. Chris and I climbed to the top of the same mountain that Victor and I got blown off of, but this time it was sun and warm. It was a pretty steep hike but we thankfully had an Austrian hiker with us who kept us on our toes (COME ON! ITS GETTING DARK!). We landed back at our hostel exhausted and spent the next day whining about our soreness. After I dropped Chris off at the bus station I walked back into town along the lake and did some thinking. I was invited to an Argentine seder for Thursday night, but passover started that night. Bariloche is absolutely craaawling with israelis, so I decided I was determined to find out what they were up to.
On my way back to my hostel I saw a fast food joint that had hebrew lettering on it. Of course I went in and ordered an empanada and everyone inside was speaking hebrew. I chatted with the israelis to find that there was a chabad house in town giving a seder that night. I decided that even though I wasnt Israeli and hadn`t registered, I was going to work my way into the joint. After a bit of searching and admitting despite my curls and dark skin that I dont speak hebrew, I made it. I arrived to a sports stadium full of hundreds of israelis. Alone, of course. I walked up and down the aisles realizing I had no idea what to do and who to talk to. I detected not a bit of english but recognized a bunch of isrealis I had seen in my travels. They all spoke to me in hebrew, forgetting I was the American one. I finally grabbed a seat with probably the weirdest guy I could find, who I had met in the restaurant earlier. While everyone else is around 22 and just out of the army, my friend was 40 and has been traveling every other year for his entire life. He translated all of the instructions that I couldn`t understand and entertained me during the chaos that was the seder (paradox anyone?). It was really just a lot of screaming and jumping, and ocasionally some bad food that came from large buckets. It was by far the most expensive meal I´ve bought in my travels. It was all a bit overwhelming, but the four glasses of wine helped me relax. I did find a few Argetines who I talked to who were even more lost than me because they didnt even speak english.
I said goodbye to my friends and escaped back to the normal spanish speaking (and english speaking) world of Bariloche. I got back to my hostel only to discover that Bobby and I had not seen the last of each other. He sent me a facebook message saying he was back in town and I ran over to meet him. Today we`ll be doing a mountain biking trip together in Bariloche and talking a lot about the egg, bombers and all the friends in common we have on facebook. Ohhh Albany.
I finally made it on the bus to el Bolson with Sandra and Bill (the older couple I met in Bariloche). It was to this point, the best bus ride I´ve ever experienced. There were incredibly large comfy chairs, fleece blankets, wonderful pillows, a full meal including mashed potatoes of course dulce de leche, little bottles of wine, a movie, a friendly argentine man and AMAZING views of tremendous snow-capped mountains. The clouds didnt even get to me-- it was beautiful all the same. Then we arrived in the cutest little town in time for the saturday fair. It was full of interesting crafts (Amy would have been in heaven), lots of slow-talking, long-haired hippies (Noah would have been in heaven) and cheap homemade beer (we were in heaven). I of course ran into Bobby (the guy from Albany who I met in the BA airport and then again in Barioche) and we were happy to see each other. We had some cerveca artesenal and recapped the 24 hours we had spent apart.
He brought me back to the hostel where he was staying. On the way he explained that the hostel was not much cheaper than the ones in Bariloche, didn`t come with breakfast, didn`t have internet, was a bitchy 25 minute walk from town and only provided cheap mattresses on the floor. But its amaaazing, he asssured me. Turns out he was right. I stayed two nights at La Casa de Viajero, a charming ranch owned by a hippie argetine named Augustine and his wife Laura. During those two days we built a family with all the people staying at the hostel (including Bill and Sandra), had a delicious asado that we excecuted ourselves, took a few beautiful hikes and drank a lot of mate. On Monday it was time for me to move on. Chris, an austrailian who has spent 4 months working at jiminy peak and was also living in Chile, traveled with me to back to the touristy mess of Bariloche. We were sad to say goodbye to all our friends. Bobby and I said goodbye (once again) and promised we´d hang out back in the capital region.
On Tuesday the weather was beautiful, as we had expected. Chris and I climbed to the top of the same mountain that Victor and I got blown off of, but this time it was sun and warm. It was a pretty steep hike but we thankfully had an Austrian hiker with us who kept us on our toes (COME ON! ITS GETTING DARK!). We landed back at our hostel exhausted and spent the next day whining about our soreness. After I dropped Chris off at the bus station I walked back into town along the lake and did some thinking. I was invited to an Argentine seder for Thursday night, but passover started that night. Bariloche is absolutely craaawling with israelis, so I decided I was determined to find out what they were up to.
On my way back to my hostel I saw a fast food joint that had hebrew lettering on it. Of course I went in and ordered an empanada and everyone inside was speaking hebrew. I chatted with the israelis to find that there was a chabad house in town giving a seder that night. I decided that even though I wasnt Israeli and hadn`t registered, I was going to work my way into the joint. After a bit of searching and admitting despite my curls and dark skin that I dont speak hebrew, I made it. I arrived to a sports stadium full of hundreds of israelis. Alone, of course. I walked up and down the aisles realizing I had no idea what to do and who to talk to. I detected not a bit of english but recognized a bunch of isrealis I had seen in my travels. They all spoke to me in hebrew, forgetting I was the American one. I finally grabbed a seat with probably the weirdest guy I could find, who I had met in the restaurant earlier. While everyone else is around 22 and just out of the army, my friend was 40 and has been traveling every other year for his entire life. He translated all of the instructions that I couldn`t understand and entertained me during the chaos that was the seder (paradox anyone?). It was really just a lot of screaming and jumping, and ocasionally some bad food that came from large buckets. It was by far the most expensive meal I´ve bought in my travels. It was all a bit overwhelming, but the four glasses of wine helped me relax. I did find a few Argetines who I talked to who were even more lost than me because they didnt even speak english.
I said goodbye to my friends and escaped back to the normal spanish speaking (and english speaking) world of Bariloche. I got back to my hostel only to discover that Bobby and I had not seen the last of each other. He sent me a facebook message saying he was back in town and I ran over to meet him. Today we`ll be doing a mountain biking trip together in Bariloche and talking a lot about the egg, bombers and all the friends in common we have on facebook. Ohhh Albany.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
llllllllllluvia
So Victor and I finally found a time we could meet up and go hiking. After lots of discussion and planning we met up on a bus to Bariloche, Argentina ready to trek, trek and trek. Unforunately our schedules lined up perfectly with lllllluvia. Everyone we met told us: va llover, va llover, va llover, its going to rain. While we were both disappointed by this news, I continued to find it hysterical because of the way argentines pronounce their "ll" sound. Needless to say after a short 48 hours together, Victor is well tired of my giggles. Anyway we decided we would deal valiently with the rain. Why not, right? We were prepared with rain gear, plastic bags and changes of clothes. How bad could it be? It turns out, pretty bad. We took the chair lift up to where our trek was supposed to start to find the first snowfall of the year in Bariloche. Just our luck. The snow was beautiful and it was cold, but the problem was the insane winds. We spent a few hours at the top of the ski mountain running around in the snow, taking pictures of the view (only when the clouds temporarily moved out of the way), sitting by the fire and drinking absurdly overpriced hot chocolate.
Needless to say we finally gave up on our dreams of trekking together, and came back to touristy, rainy Bariloche. Although we didn´t do any hiking, we´ve done plenty of talking. It feels good to be speaking English again and meeting other crazy traveling people. On the bus ride here I met a veryyy talkative chilean woman who kept me busy for the entire five hour ride. She taught me some necesities of argentine spanish and also invited me to her house (a trip hopefully I´ll make near the end of the week). On the same bus ride I ran into Bobby, a brother of a friend of a friend of a friend (so, someone I barely know) who I had met in the Buenos Aires airport on the way here. We cooked steak and cabbagge together and talked about Key club, and upstate new york. Weird. We´ve met lots of friendly and handsome Argentines and I continue to think their accents are incredibly charming and hysterical. I met a cute old black couple from LA a few nights ago in the hostel that I really liked. We spend dinner talking about all the instances that blacks and jews have helped each other out. They are going to set me up with their son, Quincy who is only 15, but apparently very handsome (I think I´ll wait a few years...). This morning we´re going to go to a museum in Bariloche and then head to a town about two hours south of here that promises a market and lots of cute hippie things. I plan on hiding out there where there until the rain stops-- it promises to be cheaper and less crowded with tourists.
Fortunately I have a whole week to kill and the weather is supposed to get better on Tuesday, when I plan on coming back up here and finally doing some hiking until my Passover celebration on Thursday night. Hopefully next time I write I will be tired and smelly from lots of hiking. Depending on the lllllluiva.
Needless to say we finally gave up on our dreams of trekking together, and came back to touristy, rainy Bariloche. Although we didn´t do any hiking, we´ve done plenty of talking. It feels good to be speaking English again and meeting other crazy traveling people. On the bus ride here I met a veryyy talkative chilean woman who kept me busy for the entire five hour ride. She taught me some necesities of argentine spanish and also invited me to her house (a trip hopefully I´ll make near the end of the week). On the same bus ride I ran into Bobby, a brother of a friend of a friend of a friend (so, someone I barely know) who I had met in the Buenos Aires airport on the way here. We cooked steak and cabbagge together and talked about Key club, and upstate new york. Weird. We´ve met lots of friendly and handsome Argentines and I continue to think their accents are incredibly charming and hysterical. I met a cute old black couple from LA a few nights ago in the hostel that I really liked. We spend dinner talking about all the instances that blacks and jews have helped each other out. They are going to set me up with their son, Quincy who is only 15, but apparently very handsome (I think I´ll wait a few years...). This morning we´re going to go to a museum in Bariloche and then head to a town about two hours south of here that promises a market and lots of cute hippie things. I plan on hiding out there where there until the rain stops-- it promises to be cheaper and less crowded with tourists.
Fortunately I have a whole week to kill and the weather is supposed to get better on Tuesday, when I plan on coming back up here and finally doing some hiking until my Passover celebration on Thursday night. Hopefully next time I write I will be tired and smelly from lots of hiking. Depending on the lllllluiva.
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