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Oscar and Gustavo
Entry 2 of 16 | show all | print this entry |
After 15 hours crossing the Pacific,with brief transit stops in Auckland New Zealand and Santiago Chile, I arrived in Buenos Aires, feeling and looking like your average long haul survivor: Definitely disorientated, less coherent than usual and with hair and face replicating the effects of two rounds in a spin dryer.
I have dim memories of my carriage with LAN Chile, suffice to say I spent a lot of it with a remote in my hand, discovering the joys of individual movie choices and video games. I have even dimmer memories of the food and service but let's just say that Emirates and Singapore Airlines still rank among the top airlines in my limited experience of international flying.
New vocabulary learnt from the flight: In addition to playing endless online games of How to be a Millionaire in Spanish, I managed to discover that a well known cola drink is known in this part of the globe as ´gaseosa´ which sounds appropriately ghastly and further encouragement to avoid the stuff. Naturally I settled for something less damaging to the body's internal system to drink with my prepackaged dinner - two glasses of the Chilean house red. I´m looking forward to exploring the Argentinian and Chilean wine industry with due diligence over the coming weeks.
Arrival Buenos Aires around 5.30pm realising it is still today Sunday 13 April courtesy travelling east across the international date line. Those who know me best will always understand why I will always prefer sea travel, still the only civilised way of venturing to foreign climes.
Immigration formalities and money withdrawals completed (a quick and happily discarded memory arises of the travails of withdrawing local currency in the prehistoric era before ATMs ), I followed the advice proferred by other veterans of Ezezia´s airport and booked my taxi driver from within the airport itself.
That was how I met Oscar. We got on well the moment I automatically stepped to the front left hand side of his taxi forgetting that most of the world drives on the wrong side from Australia. Like a tango couple we adeptly sidestepped each other without skipping a beat and laughed and shared a joke in Spanish. From then on we didn't stop talking. Or at least I held most of the conversation, considering Oscar had Buenos Aries traffic to deal with being late Sunday afternoon and the city was caught in football peak hour. Oscar and I chatted on that 30k or so ride into San Telmo about many things such as young Bindi Irwin, daughter of the late Crocodile Hunter, to mutual complaints about the cost of living, even how to avoid coming into contact with Australia´s venomous creatures [which appears to be a more popular subject overseas than Steve Irwin] - and if my Spanish was lacking after all these years of no practice, Oscar was courteous and friendly enough not to comment.
Observation No 2 There are subtle differences in rythym and pronunciation between the Castellaño and Argentinian idiom which may be due to the latter influence of massive Italian immigration more than a hundred years ago. I have learnt to pronounce the double ll as in calle and llaves and pollo with a soft ssch sound rather than the harsher double ll and lisping sound you would hear in Madrid.
It was when the location of my homestay turned out to be a boarded up shop, I really appreciated having Oscar by my side. Stupidly I had written down the wrong street number. After driving up and down San Telmo's streets avenue for the next quarter hour peering in the dark for non existent signs, I kicked myself mentally for not writing down the phone number. That significant detail, along with my whole travel itinerary, was captured on a BSB hanging around my neck.
Oscar managed to track down a local Internet cafe, and after convincing the propreitor to let me jump in the front of the long queue to access a computer, the phone number along with my whole travel itinerary was revealed to all and sundry. A quick phone call and within five minutes, Oscar escorted me to the locked entrance of my 'home' for the next fortnight, a private guesthouse located on the third floor of an Art Deco building on the edge of the barrio San Telmo, Buenos Aires' historic bohemian quarter.
http://www.antiguobuenosairesguesthouse.blogspot.com/
Proving to be an absolute gentleman to the last, Oscar brought my bags to the locked entry foyer where we were greeted in warm porteño style by my hostess Carla.
Naturally I gave Oscar a huge tip as he had given away another job to help me out tonight. My first experience of Argentinian hospitality. I have Oscar´s business card safe in a back pocket and have promised myself to call on him for my return trip to the airport.
Later, still in good spirits despite my jet lag. Carla has introduced me to her partner Sergio, a fellow history teacher and the couple's two cats - Fidel (Castro) and Frida (Kahlo). I would also later meet the two American post graduate students Jennifer and Peter who are boarding here while working on their various PhDs. I hope you will meet them all a later date for both are articulate, intelligent and friendly like most other Americans I have met on my travels.
It is now 8pm. Although still early evening by Buenos Aires standards, I decided to check out the local cafes and restaurants in the immediate vicinity for a light supper.
There's a knock at the front door- here comes a confession, I am actually writing this entry from a computer in a friendly bed and breakfast in Colonia del Sacremento, across the Ria del Plata, in Uruguay, and it is a few days later. I am old fashioned enough to prefer a handwritten journal for a travel diary and so I hope you will excuse the haphazard entries online, perhaps I will just jot down impressions and links in future and not wory aboutr a chronological order of things.
It is a brisk and very foggy morning in Colonia, a world heritage listed colonial town that is also a popular weekend away destination for the porteños, and I'm about to meet a local, Pablo, who I´ve arranged to take me on a personal tour of the key historical sites, before my return on the 10.30 ferry back to Buenos Aires.
But I am getting ahead of my self. I am still writing about my first night in Buenos Aires and dinner with Gustavo in La Carreteria back in San Telmo. That will be in part two of this entry. Meanwhile, for your enjoyment, here's the Gotan Project's video clip "Santa Maria" and an introduction to the seductiveness of the tango.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zD9W9SZj9w&feature=related
hasta luego, Debra
Where I stayed:
Carla and Sergio's guesthouse, San Telmo, Buenos Aires
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