Argentina (Buenos Aires) and on my way to Hong Kong - Last of the DDD Blogs

Ok, this is the last blog for South America. Also, I have posted pictures to most of my previous links so enjoy and here we go...

My flight to BA was not direct. I had to connect through Santa Cruz, Bolivia, which is in the mideast of the country. Unlike, La Paz (picture below is La Paz), Santa Cruz is characterized for its low elevation (500m), tropical ambiance (the amazon is next door), and warm and humid climate. It also has a good nightlife. Unfortunately, I was not able to visit Santa Cruz this time around. Most people told me that once you go there, you don't want to leave. Well, I got there and I wanted to leave...I was anxious to get to Buenos Aires...the city that I had originally intended to spend a month in. That intention turned into 4 short days.

Arrived in BA at around 2pm. Man, I was tired. Had no hotel booked as per usual. The airport was a ghost town..as was the city - it was a national holiday. After getting jammed for changing Bolivianos to Pesos (reminder: spend all your Bolivianos before you leave Bolivia), I grab a bus to my hostal. The airport in BA is far! I arrive at my hostal an hour and half later after all the bus connections. Check into my hostal which is located in Palermo. Palermo and its neighbouring district, Recoletta, are considered the ritzier districts of Buenos Aires. I stayed in San Telmo when I first arrived in Argentina, two months prior, and I wasn't feeling the vibe there. Palermo was nice. This is where you really see the European side of BA.

Buenos Aires went by so fast...it felt more like a dream. As I only had aboput 3 and half days in BA, I wanted to make sure I accomplished the following:

1 see a Boca Jrs. soccer game at Boca Stadium,
2 take a tango class or see a tango show, and
3 go clubbing

I shared my dorm room with a couple of Australians, Tipper and Johnny. Tipper was built like a brick shithouse, a carpenter, who at first I thought built "steak houses" maybe shithouses too...I later found out that he was saying "staircases". He was traveling the world with his skateboard for one year. Johnny was built like an ox and was a farmer. Both of these guys were from some little village in the outback (finally, I meet some Australians that aren't from Sydney and Melbourne). Cool guys.

We join the rest of the hostal, for an asado that evening...which basically consists of pounding back as much steak, wine, and salad as you can, until you either want to throw up or pass out. I pass out. Wzke up at 2:15am to the tune of..."knock, knock". It's Tipper..."Let's go mate, the bus is waiting, the bus is waiting"! Huh? Who, what? The bus that was taking us to one of BA's more famous nightclubs, Pacha (same club as in Ibiza, Spain). So I get up, breath smelling real gooooood, clothes, that I have been wearing all day, smelling equally as goooooood. Jump on the bus with all the other drunk hostal monkeys.

We arrive at the club at 2:30am. Place looks decent but no different than a Guvernment in Toronto or Space in Miami. Walk in...the classic techno beats are radiating from the speaker. I'm finished drinking for the evening. I pound back a cheap imitation of Red Bull called Speed. Tastes like cough medicine. The club is jammed. Can barely move. Good times. Hit the floor. Tipper is doing a dance that I have never seen before...seems more like convulsing, like he's having a seizure attack. He appears to be growing more and more bitter to all the Argentenians sporting mullets and aviator glasses and dancing on the speakers. I can't figure out whether his frustration lies with their style or he wants speaker priority. The music was actually really good. Techno downstairs (packed)...crappy house upstairs (empty). Club stays open...I leave at 5:30am. I was wiped.

Wake up at noon, or so, the next day. Can't remember. Stumble around. Decide I will go to see a Boca Jrs game that evening for 140 pesos. I later find out from an Israeli staying at the hostal that bleacher seats (where all the hooligans are) cost only 14 pesos. Feck. Actually, here is six degrees of separation for you. First, the Israeli, looked like my friend Bruce Pon (Brucey Bruce)...except he wasn't Chinese. Second, the guy spoke excellent English (Canadian no doubt) because he studied at Delia School of Canada in Hong Kong, where my cousin happens to teach. Daft. Anyway, Boca Jrs is this famous soccer team in Argentina (think Montreal Canadiens in hockey, New York Yankees in baseball, LA Lakers in basketball, etc.). The reason they are so famous, is not only because they win all the time but because the great Diego Maradona played for them (think Wayne Gretzky, Michael Jordan, Babe Ruth). Anyway, I had yet to see a soccer game in South America and what better way to end a trip.

After going to the city zoo up the street for a couple of hours (a most excellent zoo - blows Toronto's away), while Johnny explained Outback farmlife, which included how to gut a Kangaroo to catch lobster (by the way, don't eat Kangaroo...filthy animal...full of worms), we grabbed the bus to Boca Stadium. Boca stadium lies in the district of Boca ("mouth") next to San Telmo. It is considered the blue collar district of BA and many tourists are apprehensive of going there alone. I went with a tour group so it was all good. It is nearly impossible to get seating other than bleacher seating, unless you have season tickets or have corporate tickets. The first level behind the goals are bleachers (standing room only). The second level behind the goals, are dedicated to fans who cheer on the team. These fans get paid by the Boca Jrs. to travel arounnd the country to cheer for Boca, setting up banners, singing songs, cheering, etc. That is all they do. That is their job. Nice gig. The entire third level is for season and corporate ticket holders as is the rest of the stadium except a private box at the center line, which is where, you guessed it...el Diego sits. The stadium was plastered with portraits and signs of Diego Maradona. Cool, but kind of weird how this guy is worshipped. I sat in the third level and I nearly froze. It was now autumn in BA and temperatures had dipped to 10 or so. What a difference two months made, when it was 35 degrees Celcius upon arriving in Argentina.

The game was actually pretty freakin boring (like this post). The most exciting part was watching the fans jump up and down, sing, and go crazy when Boca scored. I actually ran into Ramiro, my Argentenian roommate in Mendoza. His seats were next to mine. I thought I lost contact with the guy after losing his email. Small world. Anyway, made plans to go out the following night.

The next day I woke up early. I had yet to really explore BA since arriving. So I hit up Avenida Libertador and decided to walk from Palermo to the Centro ("downtown") disctrict. Boutiques and exotic car dealerships lined the streets. I must have run into 10 parks and 5 or 6 museums in the course of three hours. Parks and museums are abundant in this city. It was such a beautiful day. I just tried to step back and take it all in...so I took a snooze in one of the parks.

BA just has so much going for it...the food, music, people, culture. I wish I spent more time in BA. It is one of my favorite cities. I highly recommend it to anyone. It is basically like going to Europe, but you eat, sleep, and party like a King or Queen (as long as the C$ keeps on tearing along).

That night I went to see a Tango show in Centro (Michael Angelo - cost $60) since I did not have time to take lessons. The place was a dinner theatre...it was pretty formal...I was lookin' good in my backpacker attire of course. I went with this cool American couple that reminded me a lot of my friend Mark Knodell and his wife Erika. Bill was from Pittsburgh. He had married Marcela, who was from Costa Rica. They were only in BA a couple of weeks on vacation, which is a perfect place to go for couples. Saw some amazing Tango and had an an even better steak dinner. It must have been 24 ounces. Again, wine was all you could drink. Left the show feeling fat, drunk and allllright. Met up with Ramiro for a drink. It was a Monday night so not a lot was going on, other than drunk Brits trying to pick up Argentenians with plaitnum blond hair. Gee, I wonder what they are doing on a Monday night.

Tuesday was my last day in South America. Woke up, packed my stuff, had a big breakfast and hit Florida Street with Bill and Marcela (one of BA's more popular shopping districts) for some new threads. I wanted to buy a leather jacket...so I did. After getting harrassed by a half a dozen street vultures, to come look at leather jackets two blocks away from their actual store, I found my jacket. I widdled the guy down to $150. So I am now lugging around a leather coat, with my backpacker gear and of course my Kriss Kross pants, around the world. Makes sense. After a full day of shopping, we hopped in a cab to the airport. My flight to Hong Kong was at 8:20pm.

Don't cry for me Argentina..I'll be back

In total it took me 30 hours of flying time to get to Hong Kong. I flew through NYC and London to get to HK. Flew American Airlines to NYC on Tuesday. Sat next to an elder Uruguayan lady...talked about the movie Alive, the only piece of jibberish I knew about Uruguay. 12 hours later we arrive in NYC. Ran to Terminal 7 to catch my connecting flight...with my 10 kilo, burnt rasberry, pleather - 1970's ol' school luggage - full of souvenirs - in hand. Flew British Airways to London from NYC. 6 hours. Arrive in London at 9:30pm. Connecting flight to HK at 10:15pm. Run...again, with my handsome piece of luggage...through Heathrow terminal...de ja vu? Seemed like the labrynth of Heathrow would never end. Run Lola Run. I make it to the gate as everyone is boarding. Fly British Airways again to HK. I don't mind...stock up on movies, music, candy and wine. 12 hours. Arrive in HK at 5:20pm on Thursday...what happened to Wednesday?

Cousin Pete is waiting for me at the airport...

with a Jamon y Queso sandwich in hand...

feckin' Jamon y Queso!!!