Putting some meat on the bones
It is a cold, grey and miserable day in Santiago de Chile. The sky drools on one in an intermittent, but highly unpleasant manner, imagine the outcome of a baby that some delirious new parent forces on one thinking that you care... Moreover, coming of the Andes is a gusty gritty wind that bites and scratches. It seems that Felicity well timed her departure.
This all explains why I sit spending time recounting some more of our adventure (a further reason is that despite the miserable weather, I am about to undertake a voyage to Antarctica, while the vast majority of you are at work - it is well known that it is incumbent on people in interesting places to tell those who are not, thus leaving them to experience fits of jealousy and curse).
Looking back it appears that Felicity has left me the job of providing detail on some of our adventures (perhaps, more fool her? Although she also has editorial rights so maybe she thinks things cannot get to out of hand or over blown?).
But first, a warning, this may be long, occasionally sentances, paragraphs and tangents get away from me - as some of you well know I am more than capable of offering up dozens of pages on the dullest topics, let alone a trip through South America. If it is any comfort though, reading this means you probably wont have to listen to me carry on when I get home. There is always a silver lining....
So here goes, I will try and be brief.
Mendoza
From the City of Shoes we made our way to Mendoza, the source of most Argentine wine (you may be seeing a common theme in destinations by this stage). Unfortunately, Mendoza is a large city, which meant the wineries and vinyards are farflung and most processing (and tasting) is done at sites within the city limits. Thus the tasting experience lacked the charm of Cafeyette. It was all a bit manufactured. That said, the booze was pretty damn good.
Mendoza is however, a very pretty place, with wide tree lined avenues (filled with cars and buses belching fumes) and backed by the Andes. Scattered throughout are parks and plazas, where hippies and other layabout types proffer handicrafts to allcomers. Which is very nice indeed, if I was not sick to the death by this stage of markets, woven goods, little carved objects and assorted rubbish......on this point - all the stuff is incredibly similar, the only change between a market in Peru, Bolivia and Argentina is price. I cannot imagine how hard they must work those small children to churn out sufficient quantities of finely stitched product.
The horse ride
In Mendoza we decided to attempt another physical activity, horseriding. I am not so keen on horses, having spent the earlier years of my life feeding them, shovelling up their crap, undertaking medical procedures (I still have far to vivid memories of a complex medical procedure requiring the spreading of a horse and its insides over our front lawn) and chasing the damn things about the countryside (Im told the experience was character building, but given a preference I would probably have preferred to be a colourless, boring individual and become a lawyer or accountant).
So anyway, we were taken an hour out of Mendoza into the foothills of the Andes for a 4 hour horseriding experience. The scenery was not too bad but it took days for me to recover. The ponies do not steer like Australian horses, the saddles were hobbit sized and we were expected to ride like jockies, almost sitting in the animals ears. But no worries, teeth were gritted, the horse was flogged til it did as it was told (sort of) and a good time was had by all (except maybe the horse).
Then we waited 4 hours before starting back to Mendoza. 4 hours waiting aimlessly, being driven around for no apparent purpose, grinding our way up mountains to pick up randoms, causing my temper to fray and eyes to narrow.
The steak
Things were redeemed that night by a shower and a visit to a restaurant that had a 700g steak on the menu. I did not choose to eat this huge hunk of beef, deciding on a 450g version instead, but was made happy by having the option. This steak was washed down by a bottle of red.
And things dont get much better than that.
I could go on and provide more detail of our time in BA, the tango, the coffee, the shopping, the delightfull night spent almost mingling with the Argentine equivalent of Home and Away stars...but prior to escaping from the rain and misery I saw a Chilean dish being offered by a nearby restaurant. As far as I could tell it involved chips, steak, chorizo, fried eggs and a few other things piled on a plate. I think the objective is to cause heart failure. Anyway, Im off to try it.
Tomorrow morning (Saturday) I go to Ushuaia, which is a damn long way from anywhere at the bottom of South America and where I commence the voyage to Antarctica.
This all explains why I sit spending time recounting some more of our adventure (a further reason is that despite the miserable weather, I am about to undertake a voyage to Antarctica, while the vast majority of you are at work - it is well known that it is incumbent on people in interesting places to tell those who are not, thus leaving them to experience fits of jealousy and curse).
Looking back it appears that Felicity has left me the job of providing detail on some of our adventures (perhaps, more fool her? Although she also has editorial rights so maybe she thinks things cannot get to out of hand or over blown?).
But first, a warning, this may be long, occasionally sentances, paragraphs and tangents get away from me - as some of you well know I am more than capable of offering up dozens of pages on the dullest topics, let alone a trip through South America. If it is any comfort though, reading this means you probably wont have to listen to me carry on when I get home. There is always a silver lining....
So here goes, I will try and be brief.
Mendoza
From the City of Shoes we made our way to Mendoza, the source of most Argentine wine (you may be seeing a common theme in destinations by this stage). Unfortunately, Mendoza is a large city, which meant the wineries and vinyards are farflung and most processing (and tasting) is done at sites within the city limits. Thus the tasting experience lacked the charm of Cafeyette. It was all a bit manufactured. That said, the booze was pretty damn good.
Mendoza is however, a very pretty place, with wide tree lined avenues (filled with cars and buses belching fumes) and backed by the Andes. Scattered throughout are parks and plazas, where hippies and other layabout types proffer handicrafts to allcomers. Which is very nice indeed, if I was not sick to the death by this stage of markets, woven goods, little carved objects and assorted rubbish......on this point - all the stuff is incredibly similar, the only change between a market in Peru, Bolivia and Argentina is price. I cannot imagine how hard they must work those small children to churn out sufficient quantities of finely stitched product.
The horse ride
In Mendoza we decided to attempt another physical activity, horseriding. I am not so keen on horses, having spent the earlier years of my life feeding them, shovelling up their crap, undertaking medical procedures (I still have far to vivid memories of a complex medical procedure requiring the spreading of a horse and its insides over our front lawn) and chasing the damn things about the countryside (Im told the experience was character building, but given a preference I would probably have preferred to be a colourless, boring individual and become a lawyer or accountant).
So anyway, we were taken an hour out of Mendoza into the foothills of the Andes for a 4 hour horseriding experience. The scenery was not too bad but it took days for me to recover. The ponies do not steer like Australian horses, the saddles were hobbit sized and we were expected to ride like jockies, almost sitting in the animals ears. But no worries, teeth were gritted, the horse was flogged til it did as it was told (sort of) and a good time was had by all (except maybe the horse).
Then we waited 4 hours before starting back to Mendoza. 4 hours waiting aimlessly, being driven around for no apparent purpose, grinding our way up mountains to pick up randoms, causing my temper to fray and eyes to narrow.
The steak
Things were redeemed that night by a shower and a visit to a restaurant that had a 700g steak on the menu. I did not choose to eat this huge hunk of beef, deciding on a 450g version instead, but was made happy by having the option. This steak was washed down by a bottle of red.
And things dont get much better than that.
I could go on and provide more detail of our time in BA, the tango, the coffee, the shopping, the delightfull night spent almost mingling with the Argentine equivalent of Home and Away stars...but prior to escaping from the rain and misery I saw a Chilean dish being offered by a nearby restaurant. As far as I could tell it involved chips, steak, chorizo, fried eggs and a few other things piled on a plate. I think the objective is to cause heart failure. Anyway, Im off to try it.
Tomorrow morning (Saturday) I go to Ushuaia, which is a damn long way from anywhere at the bottom of South America and where I commence the voyage to Antarctica.
posted by Flossie | 1:25 AM
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