The Andes (11.07 - 13.07)

In the early morning we packed all our stuff and left Hostel Uma for the bus terminal. Thank God that we chose to stay close, because it’s pretty difficult to run around with all the stuff we’re carrying – so much for traveling light, but after all we had to move out completely. The previous evening we booked tickets for Uspallata as well as to Santiago de Chile. If anyone wants to do the same remember that argentine bus companies will be less than helpful, but the Chileans don’t have any problem with it – they will pick you up in front of Uspallata’s police station (you’ll have to pay the full price from Mendoza though).

  The ride to Uspallata is amazing. After some 30 minutes the road starts to ascend and turns into the valley of Rio Mendoza leading upwards into the Andes. The views are breathtaking and it’s only the beginning, further up you will see even more amazing things.  To sleep on this journey is simply a crime, so even though we were tired (the previous night I was writing the tour diary until 2.30 am) we made an effort to stay awake. 

The bus dropped us just in front of Hostel Uspallata, which is situated in beautiful landscape about 7 km away from the town. It was about 10:30 am, the sun was shining and even though we were high up in the mountains it wasn’t cold at all. The hostel was empty, the last guests got into their car and left as we approached. The receptionist was a 50-year-old adorable woman named Rosa. She is really communicative and kind. As soon as we left all our stuff in one of the dorm rooms, we went into the lobby to have a chat with her, sipping on mate. In the end we spent the next 2 hours, while waiting for a bus that would take us to the city. There is no bus stop so you have to wait for the bus on the road. Unfortunately this time it came earlier so we were left dumbstruck in front of the hostel as we were still exchanging tips and tricks with Rosa. Well, what can you do…? We stood out on the road and started hitchhiking.

  

After some 30 minutes we scored a small bus heading to Santiago de Chile, and they took us to the center of Uspallata, where we quickly arranged our laundry and bought tickets to Puente del Inca, further up the mountains. As you can imagine, the trip blew our minds away – I guess the best is just to take a look at the pictures, eve though they will hardy convey the true magnitude of the beauty, splendor and might that the Andes represent.

Soon, that is after another 2 hours, we arrived to Puente del Inca, which lies 8 km further up from Penitentes, where you can ski (if you’re rich enough). Niki’s critical eye concluded that the slope is shit and the snow is old. It’s hard to say now whether she said that only to comfort herself, (since we didn’t have enough cash to cover the skiing trip) or the slope was actually shit.

  Puente del Inca is an extremely small village, consisting of nothing more than a couple of houses, a handcraft bazaar (you can find one next to virtually every tourist attraction in South America), an argentine army base (it must be something like a punishment to be sent there…), and, of course, The Bridge of Inca. First of all try not to imagine a bridge, you know – stones, arcs and so forth. Well, it does have stones, or rocks to be honest, and it does actually have an arc, but what I’m coming at is that it’s not a man-made bridge. It’s a bridge that has sort of hmm… constructed itself naturally. You have Rio Mendoza bubbling several meters down and so it happens that there are some mineral wells there too. And so it happened one day, or – according to one explanation – must have happened, that the low temperatures aided by the mineral wells have resulted in this somewhat uncommon horizontal construction. However according to an Inca legend, it must have been a divine act. The legend says that one day the chief of one Inca tribe got seriously ill. The shaman said that there is one herb that can cure his illness but to find it they would have to go on a long journey. The people really loved their chief so they decided to do their best to help him and set off to find the plant. They walked for many days until they reached an impassable river. They decided to set a camp there, and tried to think of ways to cross the river, they even made long excursions to look for another path, but all that resulted in nothing. One night they went to rest in very dread moods. The Inca gods, seeing that the people really loved their chief, and were desperate to save him, decided to help them, and when the next morning the Incas woke up they saw a bridge, built entirely from rock, stretching over the hatred river. This is how they got to the healing herb and saved the life of their chief.

  In the 1910’ the British came there because they found out of the healing wells and decided to construct a luxurious hotel. The ruins can still be visible today. 20 years later an avalanche came down from the mountains and destroyed it almost completely, save for the small church that stood nearby. That’s all you can see now – an interesting natural phenomenon and a leftover of human interference. All in all Puente del Inca is definitely worth to see. Even more so when you see the amazing beauty of the mountains there. Aconcangua – the highest peak of South America is just 3 km away, but you have to be lucky enough to get there while good weather lasts. If there are any clouds you won’t be able to see the top.

  On our way back we stopped in Uspallata again, first of all because we had to collect our laundry, and also we needed to use internet. Niki managed to create mayhem in the cybercafe that we targeted – she wanted to skype with her father, and virtually all the headsets were broken, so the clerk decided to bring his own laptop and give it to Niki. Isn’t she a sweetheart?

  The next day, Rosa arranged for her cousin to come and take us horseback riding. It was one of the highlights of our stay there. It cost us some 10 USD each, and initially we were a bit put off by the fact that it was to last only an hour, but after we were done, we thanked heavens that we hadn’t decided to ride for more time. As you can imagine we are not quite accustomed to having our bottoms beaten to pulp so all in all one hour was just enough. Curiously, I found it quite easy to steer my animal and enjoyed the ride immensely - perhaps I could only complain that it was rather reluctant to go faster. It was a great experience and we’re going to repeat it, hopefully some time soon.

  In the evening the sky turned grey. After a minute of thoughtful observations of wind, Rosa deducted that it’s going to snow. Indeed, an hour later the mountaintops became blurred and the snow was clearly visible. At about the same time our hostel lost electricity and regained it only for sort periods of time. It was just enough to realize that the border crossing to Chile was closed though. Whether it would be possible to cross the following day was still an open question. In the meantime, the once peaceful hostel became increasingly crowded. Every ten minutes another car would park outside and someone would get out to ask if there were any free rooms left. In an hour the hostel was completely full, and even us had to move to Rosa’s room to make space for guests. We did our best to help her control the situation – she was alone and there was a lot of work to do. After the situation was contained we moved to the kitchen, where a bunch of hippies lit up the fireplace and spent the evening drinking wine.

  The next day we woke up early to reach the police station on time. Our bus to Santiago de Chile left Mendoza around 8 in the morning, so depending on the traffic it would arrive to Uspallata between 10:30 and 11:00. Naturally we didn’t want to be late. In the end it arrived at noon – just in time to save me from Niki’s hysteria… Unfortunately just when we made ourselves comfortable the bus stopped on something resembling a huge car park, lots of other buses and cars were there. The drivers announced that the border crossing was still closed and we had to wait for news. According to them if they wouldn’t have opened it within an hour it wouldn’t have made any sense to go further – after 15:00 the road gets icy and it’s very difficult to cross. Eventually it was our lucky day (at least we thought so) and we moved on. Approaching the border crossing, high up in the mountains, someone started screaming about smoke on the bus. Indeed, something was producing smoke. We stopped and everyone rushed outside, which was a bit difficult, since everyone – ignoring the safety precautions – carried all their belongings along he way. We followed this trend. The most hilarious was to see and older couple stepping down from the bus – the woman was coughing violently, while her husband was shaking his head disbelievingly and trying to light up a cigarette. Apparently he didn’t mind the smoke. After all the drivers informed us that there wasn’t an fire – an extinguisher fell from it’s place and opened releasing that funny powder, that indeed resembles smoke. We were able to resume the journey. 

Getting out of Argentina was easy, although it involves crossing a long tunnel without any ventilation – cars, buses and trucks lined up in a milky fog of pollution. Getting into Chile was a nightmare. We waited for 4 hours on the border before everyone was rushed to form a cue to the various windows where we had to obtain stamps. In the meantime police dogs where sniffing around for drugs, all the bags were x-rayed and some where opened. We had to rewrite our customs declarations, because we had some yerba and spices with us. We forgot to include them in our statements, so if they were found we would have to pay fines.

We got to Santiago at 22:00, as opposed to 16:00 according to the schedule. 

Mendoza (10.07)

The original plan about Mendoza revolved around staying there for a couple of nights. Niki´s plan was even more ambitious as she secretly intended to go skiing in the Andes. The bottom line however, was the fact that we didn’t really want to spend too much money in Mendoza, and we were unable to catch any couch on Couchsurfing. Anyhow we arrived in the afternoon and found a nice and relatively cheap (30 peso / night / person) hostel just next to the bus terminal (it’s called Hostel Uma, if anyone wants to check it out). It’s just a 15-minute walk to the city center, so it ain’t a tragedy. As soon as we unloaded our stuff and caught a breath we headed for a walk there.

We have to admit that Mendoza is a very friendly place, the life flows at a slower pace compared to Buenos Aires, which was a relief. To our surprise it’s also much cleaner. All in all the first impressions were absolutely positive and we wouldn’t mind staying there for a longer time, to work and hang out, just like it Capital Federal. The center is more spacious and greener than that of Buenos Aires (it’s nightmare there), with omnipresent coffee shops, restaurants and pubs. Even though it’s winter people enjoyed their time staying outside, drinking mate or whatever it was they had to drink.

A couple of hundreds meters further you’ll find Plaza Independencia - the central spot of Mendoza. It’s basically a small park with two nice fountains in the middle and a feria artesanal (small stands selling handcraft products). Lot’s of young people sit around on the grass in the midday sun playing guitar, sipping beer and smoking weed. Sweet.

En route to Plaza Independencia Niki popped into a tourist agency to ask about skiing possibilities and emerged with a shameless grin on her face. “Baby, how much are you willing to spend on my skiing?” I heard. “Nothing” was the obvious reply, since I can’t ski and in case she really pulled it off I would have to find something else to do. According to Niki a whole day on a slope would cost her (us) something around 200 peso, which really wasn’t that bad, considering that it would cover transport, ski pass and equipment rental. So we stared thinking about it more seriously and doing more research around Mendoza. The results weren’t too encouraging. In the end the total amount reached 300 peso, because the high season had started just 2 days before and some of the agencies where not fully aware of the prices. So we gave up the idea, and since there wasn’t much else for us to do in the city we came up with the idea to go up to the mountains and see what’s up there. Our destination was Uspallata, a small town at the altitude of about 4000 meters, and on the way to the skiing slopes as well as to the border crossing with Chile.

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San Luis (08.07 - 09.07)

As we mentioned our first stop was San Luis. Sorry to write this a bit late – we’re already in Mendoza, but you know how it is – sometimes we’re lazy, sometimes there’s no internet, and sometimes it’s there, but rather reluctant to co-operate. In San Luis we stayed in a small hostel called (of all things) San Luis Hostel. The staff is very friendly and we really came to like them a lot, even though we spent only two nights there. The owner of the place is called Miguel and he helped us a lot figuring out the bus timetables when we were planning our trips around San Luis. He has a huge knowledge about the place, and has traveled through Europe when most of us were putting together Lego blocks. Curiously the only country he hasn’t visited is Poland and he’s had nightmares about it too. The hostel has two large dorm rooms, but unfortunately men and women are separate. Nevertheless it was not a big obstacle for us – after all we only slept there. Yes, honestly.

On the first day we went to a small town called Potrero de los Fumes, which lies around an artificial lake in hills surrounding San Luis. We set off for a small hiking trip and soon we found signs pointing towards something called Salto de Moneda. Since it implied that it was a waterfall we went for it, even though it said that it was a private property and admission fee of 6 peso (2 USD) was to be paid. Since there was no one to collect it and the gate was wide open we assumed that we would just sneak in, but after a couple hundred meters we stumbled upon an older dude who was apparently cleaning the path and he charged us ruthlessly. Anyhow he was a nice bloke so we paid gladly. After another couple of hundreds of meters we arrived to the waterfall, which at this time of year looked kind of miserable, but all in all it was a good day, and the small hiking trip was a good prelude to what was coming the next day – after all we’re a bit out of shape, especially Niki was quite skeptical about climbing hills. You know – there’s no way to access it with a car.

When we got back we tried to look for a place with Wi-Fi access, but apparently all the internet in the town decided to call it a day so we’ve turned our steps to the closest market where we stocked up on wine, argentine salami, cheese and olives and decided to head back to our hostel to catch some rest. It turned out to be a good move. After preparing a small snack, and playing some backgammon (Niki – Marcin: 0 -1) we sat down for a chat with a friendly fellow called Daniel. Soon enough he turned out to be a tourist guide, more importantly residing very close to Parque Nacional de Sierra de las Quijadas - a place that we wanted to see, but were unable to obtain any competent information about, and that includes the city’s tourist information office. The problem with Quijadas is that there’s no commonly available way there. One would think that the town of San Luis would provide means of transportation to the most beautiful place in a 100 km perimeter, but no. After much hollering about the situation of tourism in San Luis Daniel offered us a trip to Quijadas – one that would cost us 60 peso (20 $) / person, against 120 (60 $) / peson offered by one of the tourist agencies we visited. It was all pretty much DIY. Here’s how to do it: get to the San Luis bus terminal at 7.00 am and buy tickets for the bus to San Juan (18 peso), telling them to drop you off at the entrance to the park. Pay the fee (20 peso for foreigners, 12 peso for residents) and walk 6 km to the actual valley, which you want to see. Now, if you’re lucky you won’t have to walk the whole distance. We didn’t. Three kids from San Luis (more about them soon) picked us up on the way and since they didn’t have any place in the car (pick up truck) they placed us on the door of the back compartment. You know how kids are… They soon forgot that we’re sitting there in the back, and pretty much floored it, so in several moments we felt that we were about to end our glorious trip rather abruptly. Soon we got to Claudia’s (Daniel’s sister, more about her soon too) camping site and our guide came rushing to us, not only because he missed us, but also because we wanted to ask the Three Kids From San Luis if they needed a guide. Unfortunately the Three Kids From San Luis decided that the offered price was far to high, and decided to explore the valley alone. Now come on, is 30 peso really that much for a someone’s whole day of work?! (A rhetoric question.) Claudia made us some sandwiches and we took off into the valley. Already from the top of the descent the view is spectacular, but what awaits you at the end of the journey is pure glory, well worth of the proverbial blood, sweat and tears. Well, we didn’t bleed, nor did we cry, but we definitely sweat a lot, and remember it’s winter here, even though the temperatures might testify to the opposite (23ºC – T-shirts, in the summer temperature can reach as high as 50ºC).

The walk is about 4.5 km one way, with a joyful twisty descent to the valley followed by a walk along the dry riverbed that ends with arrival to the 200 m high walls and towers forming miniature canyons with amazing views. On the way Daniel kept us entertained with stories about the history of the valley, it’s flora and fauna, and the 13 year old record of his work there as a guide. He had really many interesting things to say and we would wholeheartedly encourage anyone going to San Luis to look up Daniel and hire him as a guide – you will really learn a lot about the situation of the region and the situation of the people living there, among other things that we won’t bother to talk about here, it would simply take too long. On our way back we managed to arrange a ride back to San Luis when we encountered another guide leading a different group into the canyons, and some 20 minutes later, while we were resting during the climb back to the camping site, Daniel pointed his hand to a tiny black spot on a hillside some 800 m from where we were standing. What happened was that The Three Kids From San Luis Who Didn’t Want To Pay A Guide And Decided To Explore The Valley Alone ended up trapped on a very dangerous slope with no optimistic views neither for way down nor up. Daniel grabbed his radio and notified the park rangers that some kids are off the trail and seem pretty much trapped, and in the meantime filled us in, that this happens quite a lot, partly because the people from San Luis feel they are smarter than everybody else when it comes down to their natural heritage, and partly because the rangers are a bit lazy to do their job. The situation is pretty complex, so we’ll once explain it in more detail next to a beer when we get back to Europe, but for now it’s enough to say that it’s not Daniel’s job to bring the “brave ones” safely back home, although he used to do it until he twisted his ankle badly during one of the rescue missions that he doesn’t even get paid for. After returning to the camping we spent the next hour talking about many different things, sipping on mate and digging in choripans (sausage + bread, not hot dogs!) that we received from a nearby picnic. Daniel is a really good guy, who not only showed us one of his beloved places but also took us to his home and introduced us to his relatives, more precisely to his sister Claudia and her four children, who have escaped from the city life to live peacefully (though modestly) in the middle of nowhere. He is building a house for his sister’s family there, and when he’s done he plans to go to Europe to work in Andorra. We hope to see him one day, perhaps visiting Budapest, if not sooner. Either way, if anyone is planning to go to San Luis before November drop us a message – Daniel is the best guide you’ll get there. After returning to San Luis we took a short walk to an all-you-can eat place recommended by him, where we obviously ate all we could for about 6 USD per head, plus beverages. During the meal both of us shared insightful details about all sorts of pains caused by the journey to Quijadas. Interestingly, Niki complained about pain in her bottom, which raised a question what parts of her body she actually uses to walk… We had a good laugh about it and went to bed early that night. The following day in the morning we had to report to the bus terminal early in order to catch a ride to Mendoza.

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European Gauchos Reloaded!

Hi everyone!

 We are back on the road again, so it’s certainly time to be back on-line with our tour diary.

 Some two weeks ago we’ve finally brought ourselves to file our resignation, cash in on the paychecks and prepare to leave Buenos Aires. This plan had been lingering in the back of our heads for some time, we’ve steadily grown a bit tired of the big city and the opportunities – or lack thereof – that it had for us. Our business plans didn’t quite work out, which by the way is a story to be told in the future, and we had come to realize that is was virtually impossible for us to travel around the continent while working in Buenos Aires – the amount of vacation provided by the argentine labor law is by far too short and so is the money earned. The only way was to withdraw and adjust the plans accordingly. I gave up on my somewhat ambitious plans to study sound engineering here, however it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to pick up on them somewhere in the future. When? Who knows… Definitely not in the close future. For now we’re just going to focus on getting to know South America.

 Before we left we had to say good-bye to all the good folks we’ve met during our stay here. As there was quite an impressive amount of them it resulted in a week of alcoholic binge of farewell parties. We’ll soon provide you with visual examples of how it looked like. Even though we’ve done this so many times in the past, it was difficult for us to leave all of our friends behind. During the 10-month of our stay in Buenos Aires we met a lot of people and most of them became our close friends, especially for Niki who – as some may already know – is an extremely social animal. She was even pondering possibilities of postponing our leave, but it would have only been a cheap trick to fool us. So – we left.

 The idea is to reach Bogotá (Colombia, for those not too keen on geography) sometime in the end of October. It’s not an overly ambitious plan in the terms of time planning, mind you. It’s plenty of time to reach our target, and in fact we want to take it the easy way. No rush, no deadlines. The end-of-October thing is merely a calculation – it may be faulted…  Quite frankly it probably is. To sketch the route (we’ll improvise on the way): San Luis – Mendoza – Santiago de Chile – Viña and Valparaiso – San Juan (that’s back to Argentina) – La Rioja – Catamarca – Tucuman – Salta – Jujuy – Bolivia (that’s where we’ll start to improvise) – Peru – Ecuador – Colombia. As we travel and meet people we get more and more of a picture how the later stages of this travel are going to look like but we’re not going public about it just yet. Since we’re a bit unpredictable it safer not to say too much in advance.

 You may be wondering why we chose to stop in Colombia – the Mecca of cocaine junkies, drug cartels and home to the (in)famous FARC, the most dedicated guerillas in South America. First of all, it is anticipated that we’ll run out of funds when we reach Colombia. Secondly our dear friend Ben is there, helping out his brother Julien to run the bar, that Julien opened recently. If everything goes well we hope to be able to stay at Ben´s / Julien´s place long enough to get back on our feet, find a job etc.  Don’t ask us what we’re about to do after that – we have no idea. We’ll just improvise, as usual.

While We Were Gone Part II: Misiones

After yet another longer break we welcome you again! Let's continue with our story, shall we?

After seeing all there was to see in the Iguazu National Park on both it's sides, that is in Argentina and Brasil, we still had a couple of days left there and we decided to use one of them to make a small trip to the jesuit ruins scattered all over the province of Misiones. The ruins are situated not exclusively in Argentina. There were many that were built on the territory of todays Uruguay and Brasil, but the ones that are most famous are in Argentina. We had several options to choose from, including a tourist (yuck!) bus ride with a complete package, but after a rather short discussion we decided that it suits us better to rent a car and do the trip on our own, thus allowing us to be masters of our time. To be honest the costs are quite similar, so unless you're a big fan of having a tour guide with a clear superiority complex, I would advise you to seriously ponder renting a car too.

The one who was the most happy about this idea was - of course - Niki, who by then had been eyeing all passing cars with a crazed look that contained a mixture of nostalgia, envy and racing confidence of Michael Schumacher. If you ever want to be on good terms with her, never (and I mean NEVER) try to question Niki's driving skills. In the end you'll do as you please, but don't call me then asking to cover the expenses of any (or all) of your broken limbs, let alone moral damage - you have been warned. The car rental guy asked who will be driving the car, to which Niki innocently pointed her finger at my mom. In theory only my mom was supposed to drive it, but in the end she drove not more that 200 m back to our hostel, where Niki took over the command and we headed south. At considerable velocity, I might add. 

Our target was the town of San Ignacio, where the biggest complex of preserved jesuit mission is situated. The distance from Puerto Iguazu is of roughly 230 kilometers (which is a stone's throw by argentinean standards). During the drive we had our first (out of a couple more to follow) perplexing encounter with local gandarmes, who for reasons unknown to us organized a small checkpoint, but after all we are all entitled to some fun, aren't we? Either way, while approaching the checkpoint we were not quite sure what a couple of guys in uniforms standing here and there on the road expected us to do. Slow down? Stop? Niki's bet was to drive through at 60 km/h, but it seems to have been the wrong one. One of the gandarmes gave a signal to stop and patiently asked Niki, if she intended to kill any of them at that speed. Then smiled understandingly at waved to proceed. This situation illustrates perfectly why I don't have a driving license: we would just get into trouble, thats why. But a pretty foreigner chick (who just happens to be the driver too) is all that's needed to trigger a sense of mercy in all the seasoned law enforcers you might meet on your way. 

We carried along the way occasionally checking our bearings on a touristic flyer map. It also served us to find out that there are some cool places along the road, where we can go for a swim, but mysteriously we always managed to pass the right turn. Soon enough my mom spotted some booths decorated with signs "Mango", where they were selling pineapples... not mangos. A thorough inspection of one of the booths confirmed that indeed no mango was to be found. Eventually though, we managed to find one that sold mango and we stopped there. I bought a couple of them and asked the guy if there were some places of interest around, to which he replied that 6 km from where we were, there was a place called Gruta India (which translates to "Indian Cave"). We took the opportunity to explore his advice and indeed - after driving about 6 km more on a dirt road we arrived to a pleasant camping stretched under blissful shade of trees, but no indian cave in sight. To enter the camping we had to contribute to local tourism with 5 peso (1 euro) and so we did. Then we found this:

Hmm.. yes, we've seen it in the movies too. So after all the mango guy proved to be the most reliable tourist information so far. It was clear that we were about to spend a couple of hours in this little piece of paradise, so we looked for a way to approach it conveniently and without braking legs, and jumped into the water to cool off.

The cave itself was quite impressive, spacious and it was evident that whoever lived there (most likely indians) must have been rather happy there. It actually made me feel like ripping off my clothes, making a stone knife and settle there for good, make children in amounts that would provide me with my own football team etc. Of course Niki has different opinion about this project, but luckily for me this blog is in my absolute power mwahahahaha!

After staying there for a couple of hours we consumed the mango and left the place convinced that it was worth to go there.

In an hour or so we arrived to San Igancio, making only a brief stop to eat something at a small drive-by place, where we managed to pull the service out of their afternoon nap and cook us a meal, which consisted of huge burgers and milanesas. This was the place where we also came up with the next great business idea - there you go: travels do inspire!

In San Igancio the weather became a bit less optimistic - it seemed like rain. You don't have to spend a particularly long time in Argentina to be able to tell the weather. When the air is hot and humid and there are grey - or at least not friendly looking - clouds over your heard it means you have max one hour to look for shelter. And I don't mean a small bullshit european rain, but RAIN. Big one. In our case we had some 30 minutes to see the ruins, which - of course - is not enough, so we ended up wet. Curiously enough, on the way back all stayed in their wet clothes except me (known for my exhibitionistic tendencies), and dried up much earlier. In the end I put on my wet shirt and let it dry on my as drying separated from my hot body (mwahahaha!) clearly didn't bring the desired results. Below you can marvel at some pictures from San Ignacio mission.

Basically while we were taking these photos rain was already dripping on your heads. 10 minutes later we were standing under a tree, about half way from the ruins to the museum wondering if the protection it provided would be sufficient. It wasn't - we all got completely wet, but all in all it was fun. The original plan was to go to see another complex in Santa Ana, but the rain crossed that plan, so we returned to Puerto Iguazu.

While We Were Gone Part I: Iguazu Waterfalls

Girls and boys... and whoever doesn't fall in any of these categories... Go grab a beer, wine, make yourselves a cup of tea or whatever it is that you indulge on such occasions - this is gonna be a long one. And yes, we'll make up for not writing for a month.

As some of you know, or not, my parents have visited us last month. They made a good use of the winter break at polish schools and came to chase some sunshine and argentinean beef, heh! I, on the other hand, took the liberty of quitting my job, which - quite honestly - I have been looking forward to for a long, long time, for understandable reasons (for example I deserve something much, much better, right?). I feel this is the right place to thank my father for sharing his little part time activity with me. What happened was that already for some time he has been writing for a small polish magazine about mysteries of World War II, and since I too have unquestionable talent with words (yes, now you can smile) it appeared like a good idea to let me do some writing too.  So now I work from home, which is great, plus I can do something that I really like - being a smart ass. It's really incredible that I can earn more money with 3 articles than with a month's work in a call center... Niki doesn't really like the actual status quo, so I am also looking for something else, like a part time job at a restaurant or a hostel. But back to our story.

It's really nice to have someone from Europe visiting us, especially family, as they understand our longing for some items that are not particularly accessible here, like polish vodka. My parents brought a couple of bottles of this fine distillate, of which the best is of course Żubrówka. By the way I also learned that in a store couple of blocks away they have excellent polish vodka Belvedere, unfortunately the price effectively scares me away from buying it. Interestingly, when we visited the store with my father we also found a stock of Jarzębiak, which was bottled still in the politically incorrect times. They selling it here for 15 pesos, which is probably due to the fact that they have no idea what it is. Oh well, I'm not going to worry about it, am I? Anyway Argentineans are not especially fond of stronger intoxicants...

During the first 3 days we stayed in Buenos Aires, so me and Niki showed them the city - the regular tour: center, La Boca, Recoleta etc. But one day we also took a trip to Tigre, which is some 50 km north of the city. Niki has already been there before and she posted some photos before, but for me it was the first time too. The place is absolutely amazing! Imagine something like Venice, but in the forest, and no tall buildings - only houses with gardens. There is no other way to access them than to take a boat and many people living there have their own motor boats. The area is huge, has lots of small islands an channels. It looks like this:

After taking a boat to one of the islands we had a nice meal in one of the restaurants overlooking the channel. I must say that the meat served there was by far the tastiest I had so far, but of course I haven't yet visited all the fancy places in Buenos Aires. My mother received a piece of "bife" that was roughly the size (but not the consistency) of a mid-sized brick. We all had huge portions, and we found ourselves in a risky situation of not being able to move due to long digesting process, so took a brave decision and wandered off to walk it out. The island - at least on the map - looked relatively small, with only one path that led us all around it... or that's what we thought. The more we went the harder the terrain looked. It had been raining couple of days before our arrival and the path started to turn muddy. We decided to move on, even though one of the locals warned us that it's probably not the best idea. "What the hell", we thought. "We are not some ordinary tourist people. We can handle it!". That's when the path turned to mud and introduced us to a couple of improvised bridges thrown over smaller channels. They were tricky to cross, because of the 2 cm layers of mud on our shoes or - in some cases - flip flops (the best way to learn is to take the hard way, right?). Every time we had to cross one of those bridges, tension grew higher and higher - it was extremely slippery. After some 45 minutes of walking we were forced to conclude that we it was impossible to continue our joyous hiking - the path was gone. By that time we were all scratched to blood, Niki decided that it's a better idea to walk bare foot and some had the misfortune of crash landing in the mud. Decision had to be taken quickly as the only way to keep mosquitoes away was to walk, so our voluntary guerilla squad turned and headed back. Quickly, it was getting dark. All in all if anyone is wondering how it is to be in the jungle, I advise to do what we did. Of course it's not even close to the real jungle, where you would have to be very lucky to find a path (assuming that it leads somewhere safe), and you would probably have close encounters with considerable numbers of curious animals, wondering if some parts of you are edible. But we'll get back to this subject later.

After our short but exciting visit to Tigre, we spent one more day in Buenos Aires. My father found an old frigate docked in one of the channels in Puerto Madero, and as a old time, die-for fan of everything that floats and has guns, he went to visit it. The next day we were to take off for Puerto Iguazu...

There are a couple of things that I find very strange and controversial about Argentina, I have already written about some of them in my previous posts. This time I will tell you about tourism in this beautiful country. Although in most cases you probably won't encounter this phenomenon, at times, such as flying with Aerolineas Argentinas to a domestic destination, you will be asked to enter your nationality while booking a flight. This, unfortunately, is not for purely statistical or bureaucratic purposes. Argentineans and residents of Argentina enjoy lower prices of plane tickets, while foreigners, which are widely regarded to as "gringos" (even though not all tourists are american..) have to pay more. As an example, Niki, who has her residency, payed about 500 peso (cca. 120 euro), while me and my parents had to pay about 750 (cca. 180 euro). For an European (or gringo) the difference is, perhaps, not that significant. However, keep in mind that 250 peso is enough for one weeks life in Argentina, even if one dines at restaurants everyday. Furthermore, entry to the Iguazu Natural Park is also more expensive for foreigners - 40 peso, while it's 12 peso for an Argentinean or a resident. So keep this in mind while planning a visit to the waterfalls. 

 

The flight was not the most enjoyable I had, with the plane being late and we couldn't get seats next to each other. I was the most unlucky - my seat was at the back of the plane, with no windows and no possibility to lean back, but what the hell - it's just a bit over one hour, and I don't really care for the conditions as long as it takes me where I want to go. Eventually we landed in Puerto Iguazu airport. The air was heavy and it was very hot. We took a taxi to the city and checked into the hostel I have previously reserved. The good thing about traveling with my parents is that they don't care for luxury neither. We booked a simple dorm room with bunk beds, and as there was four of us, we had the room for ourselves. The plan was not to spend most of the time in the room any way. The plan was only to sleep there. The price was around 10 US$ / bed / night, with breakfast included (that is bread, butter, jam and coffee / tea), so all in all it was very cheap. The hostel - Hostel Park Iguazu - is nice and clean, has air conditioning, nice, english speaking staff, and a swimming pool to cool off after running around the jungle all day. We decided to leave our staff and go to the brazilian part of the waterfalls as we were informed that one needs only a few hours to take the trail around it, while for the Argentinean side a whole day is hardly enough. The taxi driver that took us from the airport agreed to take us there for 150 peso, which is actually more than normal, so don't go for it as we did - there are cheaper ways to get there. The only advantage was that he offered to take us to the bird park (Parque de las Aves), wait for us there and then take us to the waterfalls and wait for us there too, so that after it all we could get to Foz de Iguazu, brazilian equivalent of Puerto Iguazu, to eat something. He also tried to persuade us into buying one of the "adventures", as they call the special tourist attractions, like speedboats that take you very close to the waterfalls, but after learning the prices, we decided to skip it, and so I advise to anyone going to the brazilian side - you can do the same on the argentinean side for much less. 

Parque de las Aves is a small zoo-type garden dedicated to preservation of rare and not so rare kinds of birds from all over the world, mostly from tropical regions. The entrance fee is about 40 peso, not the cheapest, but not a big tragedy neither. Anyway it's worth to go and see it as it is the first occasion to see rain forest fauna, and all the noisy birds, living in relatively big spaces that allow them to fly more or less freely. I guess the biggest attraction are Tucans, that are really fun, curious birds, that are allowed to wander around the park freely, posing to pictures just as this dude here: 

Apart from birds, there is a big collection of water turtles, couple of snakes, crocodiles and a wonderful butterfly cage, where I saw the biggest and most colorful butterflies I have ever seen in my life. In the very same place I also had a chance to see a humming bird (kolibri) for the first time in my life.

 

They come to feed on flowers or from little containers filled with whatever they like to get high on, and disguised as flowers. I saw one of them from really, really close. They are so small... Like a big bumblebee, really. But definitely my favorite there was this dude (I want to have one):

 

From there we went to the Iguazu Park. The entrance fee to the brazilian side is pretty much the same as on the argentinean one - 40 peso, more or less. There is the park's bus service that take you to various locations in the park, we took it to arrive where the the trail starts and after a couple of minutes it's the first of the many shocks you will experience looking at the falls. It's worth to note, that it's not the biggest one (I men the shock). It's very hot and humid, the air is very heavy and in it you see a mist that comes from water crashing down from over 50 meters. There are over 200 single waterfalls that build up to the breathtaking view of Iguazu Falls. When you have the first encounter it looks something like this:

From then on there is a roughly 1,5 km trail leading close to the Devil's Throat, the biggest waterfall of Iguazu, but you don't have a good view of it from the brazilian side. During the walk you get to see many interesting animals that live there, like Iguanas and big hairy spiders. I would say that it's worth to go there, because of the panoramic view of the Falls. Nevertheless, there are a number of impressive locations on the brazilian side, with walking decks build above the mirror of the water so that you can get closer. The sound of crashing water is almost deafening, it really makes you realize the power of the nature. For those who have seen it, there is a great scene in the film "The Mission", when a missionary who failed to win the trust of local Guarani tribe is tied to a cross and let down the river that eventually reaches the Devil's Throat, where the poor guy finds his end in it's roaring waters 70 meters below. Here are a couple of pictures from the brazilian side: 

After reaching the end of our trail we took a bus back to the gate of the park, where our beloved taxi driver was waiting for us. He took his chances and decided to persuade us to a dinner in one of the tourist restaurants in Foz de Iguazu. The program consists of local dance shows (I don't think that samba and tango are really local dances there) and a dinner for nothing but 40 US$ per head. No thanks. Suddenly he got sad, realized that he can't squeeze any more cash out of us and started mumbling something about leaving us in Foz de Iguazu, because he didn't feel like waiting for us. What a prick! Sorry man, we're not here to spend our evening in a tourist asylum, and get ripped off; we want something local and authentic! So we got off in the center of the city, which actually doesn't look like center at all, found a bunch of hippies selling bracelets and necklaces who were really nice and showed us where to go to eat something good and cheap. A couple of meters from them there was a simple restaurant, with great food, huge portions, everything cheap, and none of that "feather up my ass" attitude that we would undoubtedly have to cope with on numerous occasions in the future.

From there we took another cab to the argentinean side, consciously bargained the price to a reasonable amount as the cab drivers get a little bit overexcited when seeing foreigners and arrived to our hostel just in time for a nice cold beer, after which we called it a day. Next morning we had to wake up early not to waste time. It was going to be a long day on the argentinean side of the park.

 

As anticipated we woke up early, had a brief breakfast (only because you can't really play around bread and jam for a long time), went to the city to stock up on empanadas and took a bus to the Falls. Our plan was to first go to the Devil's Throat, then take a 30 min boat with a guide that shows some interesting things about the jungle and some even more interesting animals, and after that, to end the day, take one of the speedboats that come really close to the falls, giving everyone a good shower. One of the differences between the argentinean and brazilian side of the park is that there are no buses on the argentinean side, they have a small train that takes the visitors to various places in the park. 

After arriving to the Devil's Throat station, we took a long walking deck built above the river, which leads directly to the edge of the fall. We were lucky to come there after the high season, so there were not so many people, normally it's hard to find a good spot to see anything and you have to wait for a train for hours before it's your turn. As I said, the deck is very long, it takes around 20 minutes to arrive to the showdown, but there are many interesting things to see while walking. For example there is a bunch of friendly butterflies, clearly accustomed to the fact of having people walking forth and back. They often sit on people's hands, apparently feeding on minerals in human sweat. You can walk a good 5 minutes before the butterfly takes off looking for someone else to board.

 

Every now and then, when the deck goes through the trees, there are signs calling for attention as some of the snakes living there may get overly friendly and drop from a tree on your unsuspecting head. It's also worth noting that all the snakes living in this area are venomous. Although their bite is not particularly deadly, I paid good attention in order to avoid their curiosity. Eventually, as we were closing to the destination of our trip, we started hearing a low, humming sound, and we saw that the riverbed suddenly disappears in something that could only be compared to a very large drain, like something that you can find in your kitchen sink. Without any further a do, this is The Devil's Throat:

   

I can tell you one thing for sure: I have never, ever, seen anything like this in my life. The waterfalls, with the water rumbling down cascades, that no leaving creature can survive (except birds, that occasionally dive into this mayhem only to find a moment of refreshing breeze), the jungle that surrounds it, the noise, the hot that seems to stick to every bit of your skin.. It's hypnotic. Every time I stopped to look at the waterfalls, it was something that devoured my attention entirely. One may think that it's just water flowing. But some simply don't realize that it has been flowing like this for millions of years. It's a spectacle of destruction and undeniable beauty. It's a spectacle that keeps on drawing the attention of hundreds of thousands of people who come to see this marvel of nature every year. I felt like I could never leave this place. I felt that I could stand there staring for months, before deciding that my needs for visual feast have finally been satisfied. Every time it seemed that it's enough and we should leave, I felt like coming back and looking and it a little bit more, over and over again. Pictures and videos can't possibly show you what I am talking about. You really have to be there. It's the mother nature saying: "DON'T FUCK WITH ME" and saying it with an echoed voice of billions of drops falling on stones and plants to finally reunite with their own element many, many meters below, where it finally calms down after this loud exclamation, as if having to make this point had cost it a lot of effort, and now it flows freely, throwing gentle reflections on stone walls. Leaving this place somehow filled me with a deep sorrow, I didn't know when would I have a chance to see such a marvel again. But then again, if every moment of our lives was filled with such marvels, we would never learn to appreciate their true value. The only problem that acts to obscure the true dimension of this experience is that all in all it has been brought to nothing more that a tourist attraction - there are thousands of people seeing this place every day, there are bars, and souvenir shops selling T-shirts with logo of the park and it somehow doesn't feel right, but then again I think that not many people would have a chance to see this wonder if it wasn't what it is today. You have to remember that someone, back in the day, has seen it for the first time and told about it to his or her friends who went to see it and passed the story along. The first stone was cast and the avalanche that follows it was just a question of time. I don't think that there are many places of true beauty that are not contaminated with human, invasive presence. It always makes the spectacle a bit less impressive, but there really is no way to avoid it. If someone was to decide not to share a discovery of a place of comparable or greater beauty, it would only be of selfishness. 

After satisfying our eyes (to some extent) with the Devil's Throat we returned to the station, next to which a small pontoon dock was situated. That was the beginning of a slow and quite ride on the more peaceful currents of the river, all to discover a bit more about the wildlife of the jungle. Our guide was a young guy from Puerto Iguazu, who lived in the neighborhood all his life. He was really a nice person to be around, partly because he knew so much about all the things that we had no idea about, and partly because he didn't try to make himself look as something better than us - ignorants. He wanted to pass his knowledge to anyone who cared to listen. Luckily there was only us and a couple of other people in the boat, all of which were asking questions about the jungle and the animals living in it. Within five minutes we found ourselves looking at a crocodile 5 meters away from us. She (yes, she) was on the shore, sleeping and guarding her eggs. 

The way we encountered wildlife in the jungle was very cool, because we were on a small rowboat that was making little noise, if any. We never stayed in one place for a long time to make the animals feel endangered, besides they are kind of used to having people come and go every 20 minutes (which sucks). Our guide told us that half an hour before taking on our group he has heard a monkey family in the jungle, perhaps they were still there, so we decided to go and check it out. We didn't find any, but we entered all the narrow corridors made together by the river and the forest to find out what's there - usually a bunch of screaming birds. The guide also told us a story that the area of the park, although normally safe, knows some events, when wild animals showed to the people living there that they can't freely interfere with their territories. Couple of years ago a jaguar kidnapped (and consumed) a baby that was foolishly left by it's parents to play alone in the garden. From his own experience, he has also met a jaguar on his path, without such grim consequences, nevertheless all he could say about the meeting was "he was really big" which proves that you should never neglect wild animals in this region. After the ride, we were transported to the nearest train station from where we could continue our adventure.

The idea was to take the so called "internal trail" that leads to a couple of smaller waterfalls and eventually reach the dock of speedboats that would take us closer to the them. The trail was pretty long and exciting but I will not talk about it too much. One thing worth mentioning are the animals that we spotted on our way. They were funny monkey-like creatures, but unfortunately I already forgot what they're called. One thing I remember is that they were always hungry. If someone was not giving them food, they would climb up, and into, garbage bins and scavenge all the edible stuff they could find. They looked like this:

These little bastards are everywhere, and - as usual - all the signs seem to apply only to humans. I mean, there are no signs for those fur-balls saying "don't beg humans for food", but there are signs for us saying, more or less: "don't feed the fur-balls". As with everything, the responsibility for the well being of our planet is in our hands. No surprise here. Anyway, walking the trail we got to see some really beautiful sights, before we eventually got down to the speedboat dock:

That last picture is also the last of the "adventures" that we took. I know it sounds dull, but you know what? I can actually recommend it at the end of the day of watching waterfalls from every possible angle. It just brings you back to life. It's nothing that much special in terms of seeing beauty - no, you won't see any. It's just adrenaline. You will be thrown under a waterfall (a small one mkay? I ain't ready for suicide) and you will be splashed and slashed by the water falling down directly in your face. My advice: bring water goggles. Oh, and listen to the guy who tells you to put all electronic devices in a dry place (that means: a bag) - at the end of the ride you will be wet, soaked, there won't be a single dry spot on you, and yes, that includes your underwear too. All in all a good ride, worth it's money, in my opinion.

After that we walked a little bit and arrived to a nice little bar, where they had beer (no alcohol on the brazilian side - you have been warned!). We took a small rest there, drank a couple and talked how wonderful it would be to live in a place like this, provided that there were no tourists. 

The next day was something else again.

/end of part one. wait for what's to follow/

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