Browsing the archives for the Argentina category

Did Governor Mark Sanford Read My Argentina Blog?`

Argentina, Stories, United States

Mark Sanford is back — he says from Argentina. Did he read my blog entries here and develop a strong case of BA-envy (Buenos Aires)?

It sounds like the devil made him do it.

All you’ve got to do, Mark, is get invited to the weekly Senators lunch meeting where you’ll get a round of applause and all will be forgiven. That certainly would be easier than trying to track down a Catholic priest to hear your confession.

Don’t you just love all the [male] friends who are already speaking up in support of him, many of them in Southern drawls? Oh, and would you get me some coffee, then call Jenny for me and express my sympathy, y’all.

BTW, so far he has said this dear friend was “she,” didn’t he?

Day Three in Argentina

Argentina, Trips

Day Three, as was every day in Argentina, was spent in Buenos Aires.

I am writing this after returning to the States, and without checking pictures (Check out Gallery – Trips – Argentina – Buenos Aires – Day Three) it’s hard to remember what I did.

Buenos Aires, evidentally after months of expectation, had just begun a hop-on, hop-off double deck tourist bus. I went to the Tourist Information booth on Diagonal Norte and bought a 48 hour ticket for 35 pesos (around $8.50). This day I stayed on the bus, never hopping off, in the hope of becoming somewhat familiar with the city.

Despite the fact that the pictures are sometimes in reverse chronological order for some perverse reason, most of my wit-filled comments for this day are contained in their captions.

Day Two in Buenos Aires

Argentina, Humor, Stories, Trips

First of all we won’t talk about Day One.

After I finish this I’ll pack up my computer, schlep down eight flights and head to the nearby cafe that has wifi. BTW I gave this hotel a piece of my mind before paying the bill, but I am staying. There were many factors that went into the decision. Some of them follow: I didn’t come to BA to sit in a hotel room and be on-line. Any hotels I might change to would cost at least 50% more than this one and they would be in a touristy area. This is not a touristy area, so living here and walking the streets I am taken for a Portenyo (sic — what residents of BA call themselves). I’ve been living in a cafe named “Army” where they have wifi and a marvelous menu ejecutivo — for 31.90 pesos, about $8.60 — today I had a glass of beer, marvellous rolled chicken around, mixed vegetables, all of it inside a pastry, with a huge mound of mashed potatoes, great bread with butter and cheese, flan and coffee.

So, eventually today I bought a 10-ride subway ticket for about $3.10 and went downtown. That probably didn’t go real well, since I wasn’t sure where I was going. I stumbled onto Calle Florida (luckily not literally — not like falling down the up escalator at LAX on Monday). I next stumbled onto the Movistar phone company main office where I wanted to buy a SIM card for my 2-SIM quad phone. Ah, but they told me I had to show my passport to buy it, and I had left my passport back in the hotel because BA is supposed to be so dangerous. That’s when I took the subte (subway) back to my hotel, stopped at Army for the lunch I described, and made my way back to Movistar, where for 12 pesos and a rather long bureaucratic hassle I got a BA phone number and enough money to make about 8 minutes of local calls. Oh well…

After that I rushed back to the double decker tourist bus place where a guide told me earlier the last bus left at 7:30. I got there at 5:50 to learn that the last bus leaves at 17:30 — 5:30. Now as I think I said I’m preparing to pack up my laptop and head to Army — too early for dinner here in BA, so I’ll have “tea” and get on-line.

A thought or two from Army: I prefer the ancient wooden cars on the A-line subte. The windows are open and a bit of air reaches my face even though in both directions I was packed so closely into the car with a lot of strangers. When I got off I suggested to all that were left on that we do the same tomorrow, but with clothes off tomorrow. I think that would be more fun and hardly less intimate than what we all did today.

My second thought — every self-respecting tourist must put places and peoples into categories. I’ve decided that Buenos Aires is Budapest in Spanish: decaying elegance overlayed with a patina of class. One thing that struck me as strange was that even though cobble stones and coffin-sized sections of pavement were missing everywhere, even the “best areas,” the city hires persons with dustpans and little brooms to walk around sweeping up papers and cigarette butts.