It’s been a little longer than usual since the last update, sorry… we’ve been a bit too busy enjoying Argentina to worry much about documenting it.
Our week in Buenos Aires has felt so short – more time than we’ve spent anywhere else really, but there’s just so much to do here. Unfortunately I’ve had flu, which has made it all a little harder as we’ve had to split our time between sightseeing and letting me rest. But I think we’ve done pretty well considering.
So – from Ushuaia, we took our first flight since London-Quito, which felt a bit weird, bringing back those memories. Then we had a full day to kill in the desperately boring city of Rio Gallegos, then about nineteen hours on a bus with a view of nothing out the window but perfectly flat Patagonian plains (which sounds dull but was incredible in a way, travelling so far for so long, and still, nineteen hours later, everything looks exactly the same) then we arrived in Puerto Madryn, nice and warm and beachy after the chilly south.
We hurried on and booked the obligatory visit to the Valdés peninsula, home to seemingly impossible amounts of marine wildlife. There are only a few parts of the peninsula that tourists are allowed to visit, but even those were surprisingly crowded with animals – mostly elephant seals, fat and freakishly lazy, barely moving at all and looking rather like giant slugs. Some sealions, and cute little penguins.
The most incredible thing – our guide had just explained that he’d only seen orcas about once in twenty visits, then as we were arriving at one viewpoint, excited murmurs of “orcas!” were going around, and a few seconds later there they were: five of them apparently, two of which were gliding along so close to shore I can’t believe they didn’t get beached. We saw their huge fins above the surface of the water, and the occasional teasing glimpse of their white markings.
Not to forget the southern right whales, which were far more friendly – unfortunately we had to take a boat out to see them and the seas were horrendously rough, the kind of rough that had half the people on our boat burying their faces in black bin bags, but the whales were undeterred and floated around us, at one point right up against our boat and so close it was frightening.
Then we used our last scraps of time in Patagonia to visit yet another Welsh town for yet another amazing tea – Gaiman this time, one of the original settlements, a slightly bigger town than Trevelin but just as sleepy.
We ended up in a teahouse called Ty Nain, completely by chance as it was down the street from our first choice, thankfully closed, as Ty Nain turned out to be the most quaint, charming little place. It was filled with old household relics like lanterns and gramophones, supposedly from the time of the first settlers, and run by a pair of sweet old ladies who fussed around us making our tea a little stronger as we’d told them we were English (and apparently the English like their tea stronger than the Welsh do), and making sure we had enough of it, which we certainly did as we ended up having five cups each. Which of course went very well with the ever-present pile of cake.
At last we made for Buenos Aires, unfortunately via the worst bus ride we’ve ever had (it’s been a hot topic of debate; it used to be Lima-Arequipa, but this one wins out on a few counts): 21 hours actually sitting on the bus, plus one waiting for it at the station in Puerto Madryn in the first place, then another one and a half as it got a flat tyre a few hours into the trip, dumped us in a tiny town, drove off, and made us wait until it could get itself sorted out (apparently by the most inept mechanic the world has ever known).
Fortunately, Buenos Aires is a gorgeous city, although so European it was disorientating when we first arrived, suddenly transported back to London, or Madrid, or Paris. It was as if we’d wasted all that time and money travelling when we could have just hopped an EasyJet flight for an hour.
So we lived accordingly, stumbling out of our hotel in the mornings to the sidewalk café across the (pedestrianised) street, to have our daily café con leche and two croissants, while people-watching and listening to the classical music pouring out of the record shop next door.
We’ve spent a lot of time walking the wide streets, admiring the grand architecture and sunny plazas of the centre, then the San Telmo neighbourhood – which is like Montmartre with Portobello Road running through it – and La Boca, the seedy port area with the famous colourful houses now maintained only on one small street.
We’ve seen the most impressive cemetery, of grand marble mausoleums with statues of angels, housing Argentina’s dead elite (including one Eva Perón), and we’ve seen the strangest little botanical garden that for some reason is home to all the city’s cats, sleeping and prowling and ruling their own little kingdom.
And we’ve seen a bit of the classically Argentine too, like a tango show at a lovely atmospheric cafe, which was fun, and melancholy and seductive as the tango should be. We also checked out Café Tortoni, which is touristy, but we still really enjoyed it.
Yesterday we visited a gaucho ranch for some horse riding in the country and a bit of a gaucho fiesta. With the yesteryear costumes, dance shows, and dozens of other tourists, it was not exactly the glimpse of authentic ranch life I’d been hoping for. On the other hand, it was entertaining, and extremely relaxing. Food and drink circulated on trays while we sunbathed by the pool, then music and dancing and more grilled meats than we could possibly eat, thrust before us mercilessly.
We also explored the nearby town of San Antonio de Areco, which mirrored the mood with leafy cobblestone avenues, crumbling colonial mansions, and children riding their bicycles to spend their pocket money at the local chocolatería.
Now all too soon, we’re leaving Argentina. We’re taking the ferry (another boat! argh!) to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay tomorrow morning, and the prospect of a brand new country is exciting, though at the moment I’m still in need of consolation at being torn away from here. We’re going to another tango bar tonight, maybe that will help.
