Argentina (The Final Paradise)

I suppose that an odyssey begins… at the beginning so here goes… after spending a portion of the weekend at Antoinette’s (to be known as AA) allowing for an easier and cheaper departure (metro and RER), we headed out of Paris on Sunday night January 25th, an odd time to set on any vacation abroad. Earlier that weekend, I had my hairy mane shaved down so that if a tan was to be had under the Argentine sun, my ears and neck had to be exposed. AA and I had also seen The Last Samurai (great flick) that Saturday night followed by a dinner in a chic and jazzy Japanese restaurant in the Latin Quarter called Azabu. The next day, we had lunch with several friends at the Frog & Princess (also in the LQ) so that we could bade them farewell before our adventure. As an aperitif for our culinary trip, I had surprised AA with a dinner (once again in the LQ… haven’t been that often in a long time) at an Argentine restaurant called El Palenque. The meat was delicious (and very expensive) so we had an eventual comparison… they also had an excellent crushed corn pudding, a supposed specialty which we never encountered on our trip !!

So on to Roissy CDG Airport at about 8 PM for our 11 PM flight… which was rather uneventful except for a bawling baby and major turbulence every half hour. Despite these misfortunes, AA and I were able to slip in some shuteye (after an onboard movie on our personalized screens - I watched The Quiet American with Brendan Fraser and Michael Caine) thanks to our pirate eye patches and squeezable earplugs. This may have been a record for me but I probably slept for about 5/6 hours out of the entire 13 hour trip. Upon arriving at the Ezeiza Airport in Buenos Aires (BA), I slipped out of my sweater into a sports shirt after having collected our luggage. AA kept her Gortex jacket and she must have suffered but her special attire was needed for her eventual voyage south to Patagonia/Tierra del Fuego. A quick twirl at an ATM for a few pesos and off we were having to negotiate with a few taxi services for a pre-set price to our hotel in the heart of BA.

Ah, Argentina with BA’s humid climate resembling NYC’s weather yet with milder winters. To the heart of the city’s poet laureate Jorge Luis Borges, BA was as eternal as air and water. Nearly 40%, or 13 mn inhabitants, of the Argentine population lives in the city or its massive, sprawling suburbs. With 16% unemployment (down from a recent 21%), supposedly one Argentine out of two lives in poverty (we had not noticed this but we had espied shanty towns outside of a few of our principal destinations). A city transported from its European parents, its compact center is reminiscent of Paris as its tree-lined avenues and frequent plazas have a beguiling, faded elegance. In this cosmopolitan city, sophisticated dressers mingle with the shabbier unemployed from the surrounding suburbs (20% total unemployment in the country). AA did not want me wearing shorts despite the heat as this would set me up as a target for being a tourist… like we notice the “shorted” pigeons walking down the Champs Elysees in posh Paris. A quick word on the young Argentine women… anorexia and bulimia are rampant as the physique seems to be the most important criteria in order to be happy. In local magazines, advertising for lipo-suction or other corporal-modifying processes were every four pages !! Transparent plastic bra straps were also very “in” as this was a European fad having ended several years ago. The Argentines are a fusion of diverse national and ethnic groups, mostly descending from Italian and Spanish immigrants dating back to the 19/20th centuries. Mostly Catholic, it also has the largest Jewish population in South America.

Our first hotel, the Bel Air (www.bel-air.com.ar), turned out to be fabulous with its Spanish style façade. The temperature was about 30°C (86° F) and after several cold months in Paris, our internal systems took time to adapt. It was hot, sunny and bright. Thinking that we had overcome jet lag by the few hours of sleep, we were off walking and headed nearby to the Recoleta Cemetery (15 minutes away and one of the world’s greatest necropolises (AA may tout that the Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris beats it), which happens to be the most expensive real estate in Argentina. It was opened in 1822 and was designed by Frenchman Prospero Catelin. The cemetery harbors the final remains of Argentina’s famous (heroes, villains and capitalists) or at least the ones that could afford it (most of the marble and granite comes from Paris and Milan). We searched out the mausoleum of the Duarte family, “home” to Maria Evita Duarte de Peron (or Madonna as “Evita” for those familiar with the movie). Peron himself is buried in another BA cemetery. Another interesting site was the bronze effigy of Luis Angel Firpo in molten bathrobe and sports shoes, a heavyweight boxing champion who almost defeated Jack Dempsey of the US back in 1923. We learned from our guide the next day that Firpo actually knocked Dempsey out of the ring during their championship. Dempsey was pushed back in by his manager and won the fight creating a scandal. Several mausoleums were gaudy, neo-Classical and outrageous in nature, unlike the Duarte’s rather humble uninspiring final abode. We heard of another morbid story in which a young aristocratic girl who was mistakenly buried alive (after a cataleptic attack) and she was able to escape from her coffin (scratches later discovered). She then died of a heart attack since she wasn’t able to flee from the cemetery’s closed doors !! Elsewhere, a certain Quiroga, a well-known Argentine assassinated during the bloody civil war in the 1830s was buried standing up (a sign of courage) or as according to the cemetery director “so that he can get his sabre out quickly if need be”. And the last one… with Irish freedom fighter and naval hero (created the Argentine navy) Admiral William Brown having a tall green mast bearing a frigate upon his burial spot. Sorry to rant and rave with so much story telling, but this was a most interesting spot… surrounded by tall mirrored office buildings looming behind the cemetery walls.

Off to nearby Basilica Nuestra Senora del Pilar (built in 1716) with sky-blue ceramic tiles (from Pas de Calais in France) offsetting the pure whiteness of the rest, and its inside with its showy baroque silver altar carted in by mules from Peru. The contemporary elite have weddings here as a symbol of power and wealth.

We had a late lunch in a small restaurant renowned for its empanadas (from the verb empanar or… to wrap or roll), the semicircular pies which formed the backbone of Argentine fast food snack supremo (originally from the Middle East) before the yellow arches and other burger chains arrived. El Sanjuanino was the best in the business (besides the typical carne or meat, they had cheese and ham, onion, corn, chicken, etc) and we were told that Antonio Banderas and his wife Melanie Grifftith had been there to eat in the previous weeks. On the way back to the hotel, we bumped into the Four Seasons Hotel and we walked in since AA had eventual contacts there through our American friend Vicky (on our Prague trip), who works at the George V Four Seasons Paris. The two contacts were highly “ranked” as we eventually had drinks and snacks with the top marketing manager (a young gay Argentine guy) and the French general manager (who was much more sullen). AA was offered the most amazing wine (a white chardonnay from the Mendoza province… an eventual destination for us… and this vintage became a must-find for us for the rest of the trip… which proved to be difficult… and one of the most expensive wines in Argentina !!) as this breuvage just titillated the taste buds with its fantastic bouquet and buttery consistency. I had tried an excellent red wine but I was able to taste the unctuousness of AA’s glass so my mind was elsewhere… While I hobnobbed with the general manager in French, AA was gaily gesticulating and then we were offered a quick tour of the hotel and they eventually invited to use their pool (I did not but AA did upon her return from Ushuaia).

We left the FS and went to make reservations in a nearby restaurant called La Cabana, highly recommended by the FS marketing guy as one of the two best places for Argentine steak in BA. We ended up in La Milion, a family mansion transformed into a bar with a sweeping garden and lavish outside stairs. Of course we were there for happy hour (2 for 1) and ended up quaffing 4 iced cocktails each at ridiculously cheap prices. Fortunately we were only five minutes from the hotel… as a certain jet lag was crawling upon us, we sacked out at about 7:45 PM with my small watch alarm set to wake us up at 9 PM for our 9:30 reservation at La Cabana. Jet lag was stronger than the both of us and we did not hear the alarm… but AA was able to wake at 9:20 PM and we were off like rabbits to eventually arrive at 9:50 PM at the restaurant. We were very disappointed by the ambiance as there were only tourists (we had been partly warned) and the prices were top-rate Parisian and I was a bit worried that the famous devaluation had not rendered the country “cheap”. The wine we were searching for was on their list for some 120 euros (150 $) and despite its reputation (from the most prestigious vineyard… Catenas Zapata… in Argentina), we refused to indulge. Actually at the front desk, we were shooed in as a FS reference (we mentioned that they had recommended it to us… but that we were not staying there) and we were surmising that the FS management must push their clients into this tourist trap… and eventually collecting kickbacks along the way.

Tuesday January 27th… the next afternoon (we finished off the final jet lag by sleeping in… after a rather busy previous day) and after a very nice and low priced lunch near our hotel, we met our guide Cintia Stella (www.wowargentina.com.ar) for our expected four hours of driving around BA (which turned out to be about six at no extra cost… she must have enjoyed our presence… and vice versa) and we were wowed ! out. She has a similar job as AA back in Paris but she also acts as a travel agent so she was able to plan most of our trip including hotels and domestic plane trips. AA appreciated her immensely and AA knows quality in the business. I was not able to participate in all the conversations since I was videotaping often or taking pictures. Cintia hired a driver and we quickly redid the Recoleta (she added the stories), the Rose Garden in the Palermo District and then off to the Plaza del Mayo where the presidential palace (the Casa Rosada… since it is entirely pink and supposedly painted in buffalo blood) is located. Heavy metal barricades still stand dating back to the mass demonstrations and rebellions (there were several deaths two years ago… due to the devaluation… as the currency was no longer pegged to the dollar, lost a third of its value and the banks were closed for two weeks) and who knows… in place for future ones ? Then we were off to La Boca (the mouth of the river) where the poorer yet very brightly colored housing (more like worn down shanties) and the vivid hues came from the extra paint on hand used for ships eons ago in the nearby port) welcomed us… and we saw our first tango dancers. We were told that the area was a bit dodgy (dangerous) and that it would not be a good idea to linger at night even though AA had been wanting to dine in a real Argentine restaurant in the area… at night (this did not happen). I sort of regretted not having seen the supposed “real cathedral” of BA, which is known as the Bombonera (or chocolate box), the home stadium to the Boca Juniors (and ex-player Diego Maradona), one of the two best Arg soccer teams (as you know Arg soccer is one of the world’s best), the other being also based in BA… River Plate.

Upon our return, we treated Cintia to drinks at our hotel bar as she plied us with our hotel vouchers and plane tix for the rest of our trip. Then AA and I were off to try a bit of fusion food about twenty minutes away in a restaurant called Gran Bar Danzon, filled with the local in-crowd of branche BA. Not nearly as pricey as La Cabana (but still much more than the run of the mill), we ordered as examples ravioli stuffed with corn and baby prawns… and risotto with gorgonzola, salmon and asparagus.

Wednesday, January 28th… with a full day to ourselves we walked to the local Opera House (Teatro Colon… built in 1889) and had a very interesting tour (I have never been inside the Paris Garnier Opera House!! unlike AA who goes often). It took three different architects to complete it with its neo-Renaissance façades with central hall staircase made with marble from Italy and Portugal. An amazing aspect inside the seating area : the oversized chandelier could house a small orchestra allowing for ethereal tunes to be emitted as if from the sky. Many obnoxious tourists oohed and aahed when they asked how much it cost to be seated for one of their operas as of course the prices in comparison to other modern countries were very… cheap (3 $ a pop). And then we were off to Cafe Tortoni, having opened in 1858 and being the oldest traditional cafe in Argentina… AA was snapping pix all over the place. We actually started to take notes on this adventure while quaffing beer and champagne (2 $ per glass). Outside we ran into a sit-in silent demonstration on the sidewalk and blocking half the street for some unknown cause (yes… it was rather quiet) and then we jumped into the local metro (only four lines) since this particular line had wooden carriages !! Off one station later on to the pedestrian Avenida de Florida, crammed on a weekday afternoon with locals, tourists, peddlers, showmen, the rare tango couple, pick pocketers and leather-based boutiques with salesmen trying to prod you inside. One of my plans was to eventually replace my buckskin (fake ?) which I had purchased in Paris several years ago as the leather trim and pockets were fraying. In one boutique, AA helped me negotiate down (and eventually avoid de-tax also) the price for a very chic lambskin black leather jacket. We had to wander around for an extra hour as they had to trim the shoulder area and add an extra inside pocket all for “free”. Later on that night, we hopped into a taxi (the guy drove like nuts and yelled out “parasita” - must be parasite - at several other drivers during the trip… while our guy was swerving from lane to lane) and 15 minutes later, we were in the Palermo district as we wanted to try out a milonga, or a dance salon, and our particular one called La Viruta even had a sprinkling of salsa and even rock’n’roll. Locals of all ages were there (we noticed no tourists) and there was about one hour of dance lesson where we were able to learn about twelve steps. AA and I were often discouraged (mostly me… according to AA) as the Argentines barely moved in practicing their steps while the “teaching couple” needed much room for their moves. We often bumped into people as there was too much of a crowd for the amount of available “boogy” area. We still had fun though and AA and I intend to “polish” (yeah… right) our moves in time for our Argentine party (showing our friends the pix and seventy minutes of video) planned for March 6th.

Thursday, January 29th… off to the local Aeroparque (or city airport for domestic travel) which was a 15/20 minute drive from the hotel and costing just slightly over 3 euros (or 4,2 $)… just so amazingly cheap. The airport borders what looked to be the Atlantic Ocean but was actually Rio de la Plata, supposedly the widest river in the world (we couldn’t see the other side ! ) We boarded a smaller plane (as we peered down into the water, it was a chocolate brown as an endless view and our first thoughts were of sewage… but the color was due to the mineral deposits rushing down from the Rios Parana and Uruguay far to the north) for our two hour trip north to see the Iguazu Falls (or the Cataratas del Iguazu), one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. The backdrop was used in director Roland Joffe’s movie The Mission (it won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 1986) starring Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons, the story of the eradication of the Guarani Indians and the local Jesuit priests by the invading Spanish (since my return, I have purchased the collector edition of the movie on DVD with an hour documentary bonus… I have been waiting for AA’s return in order to re-submerge in these fiery falls separating Argentina from Brazil). Actually upon arriving at the local airport, from high in the air, the falls seemed rinky-dink (I was so surprised that I was delayed in taking a quick video). Out of the green mass of jungle, we espied only a river bending backwards and spreading out (like a delta) in a large hairpin turn before falling down (not plunging) into another river below… it did not seem that exciting !! Little did we know that seen later from below, these waterfalls are of such magnitude and sheer power that they make others seem puny by comparison… Niagara having its one monster wall and the Angel Falls in Venezuela being the highest but much lower throughput.
We arrived in 35° C (95°) hot and balmy tropical weather… ten minutes of a shuttle bus, a one time payment to enter the park (about 10 $ each) for our entire stay, and then we arrived at the Sheraton Intl Hotel, the only hotel in the national park… most people stay in Puerto Iguazu, a 25 minute drive from the park… and much cheaper room rates. We were excited by our room which had a view of the falls and several trails led to different viewpoints of the falls about 20 minutes away. Being able to wake up with those spectacular views was worth the price. Otherwise the Sheraton was… the Sheraton, a Titanic of a white monstrosity poking out of the green jungle, and as tourist-trappy as ever. Once caught there, it was not easy to escape… being trapped in 550 sq km (Brazil’s park is larger with 1 500 sq km) of subtropical rain forest (subtropical means that these forests can be frozen in the winter season ! )

A little history of Iguazu may be interesting : Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca (Cow’s Head was his last name ! ) and his expedition were the first Europeans to view the falls in 1542. According to Guarani folklore, the falls originated when an Indian warrior named Caroba incurred the wrath of a forest god by escaping down the river with a young girl named Naipur, with whom the god had become infatuated. Enraged, the god caused the riverbed to collapse in front of the lovers, producing a line of precipitous falls over which Naipur fell and, at their base, turned into a rock. Caroba survived as a tree overlooking his fallen lover. In reality, the Rio Iguazu passes over a basaltic plateau and the falls were created by lava flow (stopping) as 176 750 cubic feet of water per second plunge as much as 80 meters (260 feet) below over an entire expanse of 2 km (1,24 miles). Before reaching the falls, the river divides into many channels hidden reefs, rocks and islands separating the many visually distinctive cascades.

Before venturing off to the thunderous roar of the falls (most likely South America’s most breathtaking sight), we decided to head out on a two hour jeep ride into the vast jungle a few miles away from the hotel. Our driving guide who translated into bad French (did not know English) his incantations as we were joined by an older Argentine couple as well as their daughter and boyfriend staying on the Brazil side. We were “promised” a panoply of wildlife but of course at a hot and humid 4:30 PM, these wild creatures were either in hibernation or just avoiding humans. They even had a glossy picture book with a puma, panther, jaguar, monkey, anteater, tapir (a distant relative of the horse), coati (a raccoon relative), iguanas, snakes, different birds… toucans, parrots and parakeets. In 1997, a jaguar killed the infant son of a park ranger. Well one must not guess that we were not disappointed after barely seeing or hearing any creature during our land cruise. Within the first 100 yards of entering the jungle route, we saw the back and tail of a giant iguana before it scampered off into the bushes… but then nada. We stepped out of the jeep a few times and penetrated into the jungle but not much there either. The only animal seen were the gigantic black tiger ants which if bitten with its formic acid, feels like a wasp sting. If attacked by one hundred of them, you die… why not… just like 100 wasp stings… the only interesting fauna was the guapoy or strangler fig, which as its name uses large trees for support before eventually asphyxiating them. It was upon our return to the hotel and with 100 yards of the access to the hotel (and within sight of it) when we lucked out and fell upon an entire tribe of coatis crossing the macadam road one by one just in front of our jeep. We were able to take pictures and videos as the traversing took about five minutes !!

We had a tasteless buffet dinner that night in the Sheraton as we did not have the energy to take the local bus (the last one left at 8 PM for Puerto Iguazu… and there was no return bus ! ). Most of the guests were overweight with butt-munching khaki shorts and large white running shoes with white socks. The following morning’s buffet breakfast was a bit more diversified and then we were off to the falls exploratory circuit. The principal access to the cataracts was divided into two walks : the upper and lower both interspersed with fabulous panoramic views. We ventured upon every available path possible to be able to appreciate the falls from every available angle. We did not take several hours and cross over into Brazil (100 $ access fee per person) in order to have a fantastic perch overlooking the falls from that particular direction. We could have eventually “sneaked in” but that would have taken some negotiating with taxi drivers on the Argentine side… just not worth it. In the morning, we took the pasarelas (or catwalks) along the Paseo Inferior overlooking the river. At the bottom, a free launch took us to Isla Grande San Martin, an island with a trail of its own (few catwalks) that gives the closest look at several falls (our video and camera lenses were continually misting over). We had the view of several falls, including Salto San Martin, a huge and furious cauldron of churning water whose violence is only second to the falls of our afternoon tour. From the same launch point, you could hop on a zodiac (paying) and travel almost under the falls and this was called the Aventura Nautica. We decided to do this the next afternoon. The same afternoon we hiked the Paseo Superior which was entirely level and offered superb views of the tops of several cascades and across to more. The most impressive had to be our 15 minute very slow train trip (like in Disney, and only a 15 minute walk from the hotel) to the Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat). After debarking from the train, there is a 15 minute catwalk walk across several major river arteries feeding the falls from upstream, and you arrive at a point with a view on nearby Brazil. Of all the sights on earth, the Garganta must come closest to the experience of sailing off the edge of a flat earth imagined by early European sailors. On three sides, the deafening falls plunge to a murky destination as the vapors blur the base of the falls and rise in a smoke-like plume that can be seen from several miles away (just imagine from our hotel room ! ). From the final catwalk platform overlooking into the emptiness, should one have jumped off or have been thrown in, the body would have disappeared in two seconds ! Truly amazing, Mom would have had a heart-warming attack.

That night, we took the 8 PM bus into Puerto Iguazu to get away from the Sheraton’s isolation. We dined in an air-conditioned restaurant which had an outside barbecue grill specializing in tantalizing Argentine meats. I ordered an onion salad and a baby-grilled steak (for just 7 $) and I was served almost the entire cow as the massive meat arrived in a two-tiered stack. AA had a lomo (tenderloin) which was half the size but tastier. We had a live band with guitarists, a flutist, a drum type instrument and a 15ish year old boy from time to time melodies like “Don’t Leave Me Argentina” (sung by Madonna/Duarte). Finding a taxi back to the Sheraton was more of a sport (and tons more expensive… since they can’t return from their long ride with clients) and we had to negotiate with the driver before entering the taxi. The next morning, we wanted to get an early start, hopped on the train to go into the opposite direction of the “throat” since we wanted to get to a “swimming hole” at the bottom of a waterfall. We took the Sendero Macuco (or trail) through the jungle. It is about a 3 km (1,9 miles) long flat trail to the top of the falls and then a steep lateral drop to the base, as the river continues on and joins not much later the Rio Iguazu. We arrived in a little paradise where only two young women were sunbathing on a large slab of a rock and a family of four were splashing in the pool. AA had brought a bottle of rose champagne from Paris which I had backpacked into the shangri-la with two glass glasses and the video camera. We slipped the bottle to the bottom of the pool to get cool while I ventured off to position myself at the bottom of the pelting cascade (and did it hurt ! ) We eventually had our champagne while lying in the water (other people had arrived… and were clearly jealous ! ) Back at the hotel at 2:30 PM, we walked back to the launch point of the specially-fitted zodiac across from San Martin Island as we were about to set off for our little nautical adventure. I brought the video camera expecting to get some great close up views from “under” the falls which proved to be impossible, as I had to whip the camera into a plastic bag at the last second. The company hires someone to take the official video (the camera wrapped tightly in a blue tarp) but since the cameraman zeroes in on everybody’s face for 30 seconds, the purchase did not interest us... and filming the actual water bombarding the lens would not have been interesting anyway. The 15 minute trip brought us very close to the falls near the Garganta and then we sped away to cruise three times “under” the falls near San Martin. Finally a quick spin into the Sheraton pool and then we were off on the airport shuttle and back to Iguazu Airport. We arrived in Buenos Aires (it had been raining for the past 24 hours) and we returned to the Bel Air for one more night.

Sunday, February 1st… the next morning we checked out, left the luggage in storage and we were off by taxi to the San Telmo market (only on Sundays), a sort of flea market held in a shady part of town (only second to La Boca). We browsed, got a few trinkets for the kids, and I purchased a mate (pronounced like the French pate) tea cup with mate tea and a specialized metallic straw acting as a filter. It is typically Argentine even though the tea is only appreciated by the local population. It sprinkled rain from time to time yet we were able to see a pair of tango dancers dazzle the crowd with different styles of tango dancing… even though they did slip once or twice on the rain-soaked rubber matting ! Then back to the hotel to pick up our bags and then off to the Aeroparque once again, and we flew two hours to Mendoza (about 1000 km or 620 miles west of Buenos Aires), the Bordeaux-esque region of Argentina. We stayed at a small hotel called El Portal Suites with each room having an adjacent living room and kitchen… for the price of a normal room. It was about 8:30 PM and I zapped onto the local cable TV and to my wonderment, I by chance fell upon the beginning of the Super Bowl (only two minutes into the game). AA who did not realize the grandeur of this occasion for me (I had to explain the gist of this game and how it was Alex’s favorite team from his hometown, etc). She went off to check up on her e-mails concerning her future clients. I thought that the game would be over by 10:30 and that we could grab dinner. I did not realize that half-time (which I did not look at) would last nearly an hour and by then dinner was too late. AA had already fallen asleep before the game ended at 12:30 AM, a ridiculous four hours long for only 60 minutes of actual playing time ! Despite an uninteresting first half (except for the last five minutes), the game was a thriller down to the wire and I was just imagining Alex and Georgia nibbling their fingernails as the Patriots pulled the victory out of their whazoo…

Monday, February 2nd… AA had previously set up with our guide Cintia a tour of a few vineyards around the city of Mendoza. The Mendocinos, or inhabitants of Mendoza province, call their home La Tierra del sol y Buen Vino, or the Land of Sun and Good Wine (Argentina is the world’s fifth-largest wine producing country but it wasn’t until recently that they became more export-oriented… after having improved their quality). With 2000 wineries and their vineyards stretching endlessly in all directions, one might never guess that the region is actually a desert. The province lies in the shadow of the massive Andean crest and aside from the rare hailstorm, the region gets almost no rainfall. But enough snow accumulates to sustain the rivers that irrigate the extensive lowland vineyards. The Andes towering far away in the clouds harbor the fabled Cerro (or Mount) Aconcagua, at 6 962 meters or 22 835 feet, or the highest mountain in the Americas (Mt McKinley in Alaska is 6 194 meters). The city of Mendoza with 130 000 people is Argentina’s fourth largest with each sidewalk having its own acequia (or irrigation canal) to provide nourishment to the trees (mostly sycamores), seen everywhere in this ex-desert plain ! Earthquakes have often shaken the city, most recently in October 1997.

Thanks to a complex and very old system of river-fed aqueducts (first introduced by the native Huarpe Indians), land that was once a desert now supports nearly 80% of the country’s wine production. All winery tours and tasting are free even though some push for hard sales at the end. The most famous grape or vintage in Argentina is malbec (coming from the French “bad mouth”) which was actually rejected from France decades ago as it had a bad reputation and did not flourish well under the French sun. Since Mendoza is so dry (not only it rarely rains, but it is sunny 300 out of 365 days a year), the malbec was able become a success here… and it was actually OK after we had several tastes. We had our own private shuttle bus and an English-speaking guide (a 23 year old girl) and we were off on a tour of three different vineyards over the day. The order of the tours was interesting as we started out with the family-run Weinert Winery, of course ex-Nazis who had fled Germany during World War II. We had an elderly man give us a visit as our guide translated and this winery depended on gigantic old oak barrels… and each winery on our tour became more modern and used the latest international-standard metallic vats. At our second vineyard (Zuccardi), we had lunch and we invited two German girls, at an adjoining table, to dine with us under a canopy of vines and grapes dangling above our heads. The lunch was part of our pre-paid tour and we were able to drink some excellent reds and even a sauterne-type of digestif. Our last winery Lopez was too modern for my taste and even offered up to 30 different brands ! As Dad will remember our foray in Napa to the Chandon Winery, the Bodega Chandon also exists in Mendoza… We had abused our guide and driver time-wise (not on purpose) so we offered them bottles of wine which we had purchased (for ridiculously low prices… we bought a “champagne” for about 3 $ !) At one point after our return, I noticed that my right eye was not seeing well and I realized that my contact lens had disappeared ! and to this day, I still have no idea how and when it happened. That night we dined once again with the German girls who had eventually moved into our hotel as they had been disappointed with their earthy hostel.

Tuesday, February 3rd… the next day AA had kept in surprise (until the day before) an overnight rafting trip (I only expected one day) up on Rio Mendoza, a river spewing down from the Andes. We were picked up at 9:30 AM by a shuttle bus and then we headed off to five other hotels/hostels in Mendoza to pick up mostly day candidates followed by a one hour trip to the Andean resort Potrerillos (about 1 350 meters or 4 430 feet in altitude), a small town home to a few white-water rafting/kayaking expeditions. We were to start on a two-day fifty km (31,3 miles), five hour Class III – IV (degrees of difficulty) descent. Our guide John had been with the company Argentina Rafting Expediciones (http://www.argentinarafting.com/) for only a few months and he was quite a character. Originally from Sacramento, CA, he had a slow drawl that seemed to show that he had to think about each word spoken… but he was also very funny. We were equipped with helmets, special pants, zippered boots and jacket, a life preserver… and we were off on another shuttle. We were joined by an older couple and the couple’s daughter and Argentine boyfriend. The father was a pilot for the jumbo liners of Northwest Airlines, and we had some interesting conversations… as I had been an analyst with Rothschild on European airlines the past three years (no longer…) After about a 45 km drive, we were higher in the mountains with the sun poking out of billowing white clouds… even though we were not able to see it, Cerro Aconcagua was supposedly behind the range of mountains in front of us. The river was very brown as it was filled with silt and heavily laden with minerals from further upstream. AA had white-water rafted and as many of you know, I had experienced it in Tuolomne and in Bali. The first part of our adventure was calm as the rapids never passed a Class II… and I ended up falling in twice. They even had another guide Popa in a safety kayak who was always ahead of us in case anyone fell in and was whisked quickly downstream. The second time I fell in, the accompanying mother joined me as we hit a rock (we were even warned). I had a blast as the river was warm… AA laughed hysterically during the entire trip… There was a powerful dry wind (called the Zonda) blowing up the river and at times preventing us from rowing forward… John, our guide, had never experienced this up to now. We camped later about 20 km down under an old metallic disaffected railroad bridge as four tents were pitched. We had a gigantic barbecue with huge slabs of meat under pitch dark (we did have a lantern) and the moon peeking out above the Andean crests. All this material was shuttled by the organizers, the road up on the hillside being adjacent to the river.

Wednesday, February 4th… the next morning, it was extremely cold and we were never to see the sun all day… John had mentioned that he had never seen the region so bleak and freezing. This part of the trip was to have us take some major rapids where the churn was to literally “freeze” the boat in place if we could not paddle out of the maelstrom. We succeeded overall even though I fell in once again right before lunch (one of the zipper of my special booties did not work thus I had a very weak grip under the zodiac inflated bars). Each time I fell in, I had been positioned in the middle or back of the boat… but I was needed in the front with the pilot for the difficult rapids (the Argentine boyfriend, about 25 years old, was pretty useless and totally out of rhythm) and never fell in at that position. At lunch, we were all freezing and it was still very overcast and bleak. Back into the zodiac for the toughest part of the trip… and we braved the churning rapids with success… John mentioned, after the most dangerous rapids of the trip, that the previous week, two women fell in after the drop… one was picked up quickly while the other was pinned in the maelstrom as her pants were literally ripped off her before she was recovered. Nearer the end of the trip, John asked us if we all wanted to jump in and hold on to the boat and be pulled by the current (no longer any major rapids). The girl, the boyfriend and I jumped in (I was already wet) while AA and the older couple looked on. And at the end, John suggested flipping the boat over (we had arrived at the lake) with all hitting the water. The mother was a bit reluctant but by popular demand she ceded. We spun the boat around with the oars and we were all sitting in back while John pulled hard on the rope attached to the front. I fell in early (being all the way in back) but all capsized and AA found herself temporarily trapped under the zodiac ! Back at camp and after a warm shower, we were back on the shuttle bus and back off to Mendoza. A final dinner and night in El Portal and we were back on the plane the next day to Buenos Aires. On our plane, we were accompanied by the soccer team the Boca Juniors and their accompanying trophy, who had played against their rivals River Plate in a friendly match in Mendoza the night before. I thought that they looked extremely young… and it was confirmed by an eventual taxi driver that the different teams sent in their “B” squads or their younger members since it was only a “friendly”. At the Aeroparque, I bade farewell to Antoinette as I had to take a taxi to the international airport (about 35 minutes away) while AA was to board a four hour flight to Ushuaia in Patagonia at 6:30 PM. Just a few words on this southernmost capital city (on the planet) of Tierra del Fuego : lying on the shores of the Beagle Channel between the Olivia and Pipo (like this name) Rivers and with the Martial mountain range as a backdrop, Ush means “at the end” and wuaia is “inlet to the west”. AA was able to feast on king crabs and she visited penguin colonies, experienced kayaking, visited the Martial Glacier and had looked forward to take El Tren del Fin del Mundo (the world’s end train), a trip taking you back in time… (AA never took the train, the locals having warned her how “silly” it was…)

The end of this journal is around the corner… the only other minor event was the airport fee (18 $) to be paid upon leaving country (totally unexpected and in no guide). At the first customs checkpoint (and there were about three in all), I needed a special paper mentioning that I had paid the airport tax… fortunately nearby there was a kiosk but since I no longer had cash (gave the rest to AA after having pre-paid for the taxi), I had to resort to a credit card. They did not accept Visa (so my French card was off-limits) so fortunately I had my US Citibank MasterCard with me !!

A week later I completely surprised Antoinette by meeting her at Roissy Airport to pick her up… so in conclusion, we had a fantastic voyage. As a further surprise, she brought me back a red/blue Gore-Tex jacket with an inner removeable lining purchased in Ushuaia (to be used for future colder adventures ?) My years of learning Spanish were helpful, but since I had not practiced it for the past 15 years, I actually did have a lot of difficulty… especially with the verb tenses. Argentina is worth the trip and if anyone is interested, it should be soon. Within two to five years, it will be infested with tourists in my opinion… as the guide books and travel agencies will start to crow about all the comforts and the relative cheapness (Buenos Aires is now considered the cheapest capital in South America). So I urge you all to go but maybe after this rendition of our trip, there is no longer any mystery and you may not want to go at all !