Rockclimbing and Revolutionaries

Trip Start Oct 16, 2008
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Trip End Apr 16, 2009


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Flag of Argentina  ,
Wednesday, November 19, 2008

After everything we had heard about the quality of Argentina´s bus system we were sorely disappointed in our first overnight trip on a "coche cama".  We booked the cama suite option to Cordoba to afford as a little privacy, because we had been told there might be champagne involved and that the seats reclined into virtual beds (cama means bed).  When we boarded the bus we were handed a box each containing two alfajores, what Patrick calls Argentinian wagon wheels.  That was the last we saw of either of the drivers, neither of them came upstairs to bump down the aisles with a bottle of bubbly like we had hoped.  This particular bus must have been one of the older ones in the fleet, and while the seats certainly reached an almost vertical position, the footrest of mine collapsed and slammed to the floor every time I adjusted my sleeping (please read "resting") position.  Also, there HAD to be something wrong with the wheel alignment, for despite the good quality of the roads, the entire bus vibrated violently for the entire trip.  Blair and I didn´t sleep a wink, and Patrick managed about five hours.  Oh well, the only way is up right?  Oh, wait, we are going to be in Bolivia soon ......

Cordoba Backpackers was a welcome refuge but having arrived early in the morning, we had to wait till noon to get into the room.  We left our bags wandered around the pedestrian areas in the centre, found a people-watching cafe, had breakfast and, well, watched people.  When the waiter tried to rip us off for Patrick´s smoothie and croissants, we barely had the energy to put up a fight.  This was definitely going to be a siesta day.

After enjoying the darkness provided by the shutters and the quiet provided by earplugs (I am speaking only for myself as Blair cannot stand to wear them) for a good four hours, we ventured back out into the city and managed to catch the 6pm English language tour of the Jesuit museum.  It included: the original buildings of Americas´ third oldest university (inaugurated in 1621, I think) complete with whitewashed cloisters and a stuffy hall where the Doctor of Theology candidates, after 16 years of study, would stand for days in front of their professors to defend their theses; a magnificent wooden cathedral whose ceiling resembles the hull of a ship (probably due to the fact it was built by a shipbuilder); and an impressive collection of REALLY old books in the library.  Apparently the Jesuits were quite open-minded and in the time of the inquisition they were expelled by the Spanish crown from the whole of the Americas for their progressive views.  They came back later, and city of Cordoba is pretty bloody proud of them.

Our second day in Cordoba we headed out of the city for a wee day-trip to the spa town of Alta Gracia.  We found the first evidence yet of siesta being observed in this country and struggled to find a shop open for sandwich ingredients.  After picnic lunch in the main square we discovered all the Jesuit stuff was closed for a few hours too, and while we did see the church, which wasn´t part of the musuem, there was not much of interest to report, apart from being painted a vile shade of pink.  We trudged through the hottest part of the day up the steepest hills in the town to the main destination of our daytrip which, but for the collection of tour buses outside, was just a little house on a quiet street.  It is now a museum because it is one of the houses in this town where Ernesto Che Guevara lived with his family in his childhood.  Great museum, highly recommend it to anyone, whether you´re a chardonnay socialist or not, very well laid out and, once the tour groups departed, a very quiet and cool break from the heat of the day.  One group that arrived while we were there took a particular interest in Patrick, a bunch of high school kids, trying out their meagre English phrases, quizzing him in Spanish and squealing with delight when he answered with his few Spanish words.  This is quite a trend.  Men and women, boys and girls, they all love him and will stop for a while to chat with him and comment on his cool sunglasses.  He´s our own personal icebreaker.

Back in Cordoba we found some cheap eats at a dodgy little cafe where Patrick couldn´t help but be impressed that the owner parked his moped right inside the restaurant.  Back at the hostel we were just in time for him to have a go on the resident climbing wall.  Well, wasn´t he just chuffed with himself.  He has taken quite an interest in climbing recently, he is going to be a mountain climber when he grows up of course (and an English teacher and a snow shoveller), and one of the few toys he has brought with him on the trip is a couple of toy carabiners, rings and a small rope to connect stuff and make contraptions.  But this wasn´t playing, this was serious stuff.  Mathias the climbing guy put a REAL HARNESS on him and a REAL CLIMBING HELMET and used REAL CARABINERS and a REAL ROPE and belayed him SUPER DOOPER HIGH up the wall.  We were quite impressed with how well he climbed (almost halfway) and his eyes sparkled with joy all night.  It was certainly a highlight in our little boy´s South American adventure.

The next day we shopped for hats for us but ended up buying Patrick a pair of thongs instead.  We also discovered that air-conditioned stores are awesome and trying on sunglasses is a great way to entertain a four-year-old.  We had no real enthusiasm for touristy stuff and basically spent the rest of the day waiting till it was time to go for the 8pm overnight bus to Salta.  Hopefully the wheels are aligned .....
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