So Today I Met, No. 2: Some dude who has been traveling for 13, or 16, maybe, years or something. Cray.

I think my blog post titles alone should earn me an Emmy. I mean, just take my top 10.

10.) I puked in the fishbowl, don't say it was you
9.) Inappropriate things I did as a college freshman and #10 wasn't one of them
8.) How did Tucker Max EVER get laid with a name like that? He must have lied to women. About his name.
7.) Top Gun is the greatest bro movie ever made and Keanu is pissed he passed up the role of Slider
6.) Slider *sniffs* you stink
5.) Something something shirtless volleyball mmm shirtless volleyball. Men's volleyball. IT'S A TOP GUN REFERENCE.
4.) Four Top Gun Blog Post Titles So Far, How Am I Looking?
3.) The Lead Mig's Hooking Into Guns Range. There's a mig on our tail, we gotta get outta here! He's coming around, he's coming around, he's gonna get behind us!
2.) I'M NOT. LEAVING. MY WINGMAN.
1.) You can be my wingman anytime. Bullshit. You can be mine.
0.) Beeehhhhhrrrr weeehhhhhrrrr wehr wehr wehhhhrrrr (it's...it's the Top Gun theme song).*

Back to my post...thanks for indulging my random aside. Random asides aside, let's continue. And be brief.

So today I met a guy, I knew his name, but I've forgotten since, who had been traveling 16 years. I swear he told me 16 when I asked him but someone else later told me 13 years. 13, 16, it's a damned long time. I prefer 16 because it sounds better. You know it, I know it, get past it.

It's just kind of...fascinating. 16 years! 16 years not at home, without a home! He sounded British so we're gonna say he was British. He'd seen, like, everything. And even though he'd seen so much, he still hadn't seen it all. Not even close. Think about that, America? Think you're well-traveled cuz you spent 2 weeks in the Amazon or did a mission trip somewhere for a week when you were 12? Think again, fat boy! Try traveling for 16 years and then having the balls to admit "No, I haven't seen it all."

Now, granted, he did stay put in some places for a little bit. I think he said he lived/worked in India for like 4 years. And he had gone back to the UK at least once for a year to work to make more money to support his habit. He also (getting this info 2nd hand here) has an apartment/flat/something/whatever in the UK he collects rent from to support his lifestyle and also has some inheritance from his parents.

Still, it's amazing, and awesome. He was a very cool guy. His pajama pants had holes and were tattered but so what? 16 years of traveling and, if you weren't frugal at the beginning, I bet you are now.

Anyways, that...that's really it. I explained where he was from, what he is doing, how long he'd been doing it, and how he was doing it. He was also very tall and skinny with a well-groomed beard.**

*Spoiler alert: I just told you the whole story of Top Gun, except for GOOOOOSSSSEEEE! The rest is just noise. Glorious noise.

**Yes, I did just write this post as a tribute to Top Gun. You're welcome.

The Fashion Here - La Moda Aqui

I wanted to write a quick note on the fashion here. This is not a review/critique of the fashion here; I haven't taken enough time to properly observe and analyze the fashion here to do that. Just a couple of quick notes.

Typically...

Typically the people dress fairly...normal...here. You know, jeans, jackets, t-shirts, button downs. The occasional pair of Keds or Converse. There's mildly more "trend/fashion" here than in the US, more variety I guess I should say, but less than in Europe. A better way to say it: the fashion here falls somewhere between that of the US and Europe, but closer to the US. Again, not a bad thing, just is.

I haven't anything striking or stunning. No "window shopping" displays of women's dresses or men's that stand out or are remarkable.

Men's suits and mainly their ties

You do see plenty of (presumably) businessmen in suits. They seem fine, ranging from the lower to middle, maybe upper middle of the range of quality of material and cut. I have't anything truly outstanding, in suit or combination of suit and tie. The Argentinians aren't always dressing to impress on a Tuesday, which makes sense.

I do have to say, the ties, las combats, LAS CORBATAS, seem, more often than they should, to be too short. One of the most basic rules of fashion: unless you are trying to be different, the tie should come right to the top of the belt, just touch it, graze it, kiss it. Shorter and you look like you're too tall/fat for the tie. Any longer and you look like you've hiked up your pants and you're 80 years old. You might need a top hat, cane, and suspenders, but the Mr. Magoo version of all these things, not the sweet Dumb n Dumber version(s).

And that's all she wrote.

-B

So Today I Met, No. 1: A dude biking from Buenos Aires to Patagonia (Updated)

So, today I met (just imagine "Wheel! Of! Fortune!*" but "So today on Today! I! Met!") this brilliant Belgian guy named Xander (the closest I'm sure I'll get to spelling his name). Xander was really cool for a lot of reasons but the primary reason I'm writing about him is he is biking from Buenos Aires to Patagonia. And by biking, I don't mean a "motorbike", a motorcycle, a scooter, or a Vespa. I mean a bicycle. As in, self-powered. As in using his own 2 legs. And in this case, a recumbent bicycle (see below for photo).

Buenos Aires to I don't remember if I forgot or just didn't ask (how rude of me!) what his final destination was (no movie pun intended...this time). But I believe he said his total distance would be 3000 km. Or about 40 km for those of you on the metric system. Seriously. 3000 km. There and back. 6000 km on his legs. Yeesh. Good luck to you, Xander.

Xander told us (various folks at the hostel were discussing his trip, desire to do the trip, etc, with him at various times) that he wanted to do the trip, because, well why not. He told his mom "Hey mom! I'm gonna go bike through Argentina!" and his mom replied "Ok, but don't be late for supper! You don't want to eat cold bean stew, do you??" She didn't get it. I never know what she's doing in there. And off he went. He actually brought his bike from Belgium.

I was really quite impressed with how well Xander had planned his trip. Definitely had thought of things I hadn't, but then again I've never planned a trip like this so cut me some freakin slack. If you know anything about Argentina, and I don't blame you if you don't, when travelling south and across the country, the towns are quite spread out. He estimated that he would travel 100 km per day, a fair estimate I'm sure. He, too, estimated that, at a stretch, he wouldn't see a town for up to 3 days. Of course he was bringing food with him, and would restock along the way, but that means at times he would need enough food for 3 days (!!) with him. And would have to spend the night outside. So what else did he have? A tent, naturally. Oh, and for (from Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels**) "dispensing with the pleasantries of nature", he has to bring toilet paper. He had cleverly placed in a plastic bag so it wouldn't get soaked in case it rained. Nothing worse than already-wet TP, if you ask me.

But Xander also had to plan for bike failure. What happens if gets a flat tire? Busted rim? Broken chain? Can't just call up AAA. Do they have AAA for bikes? Anyway, so he was taking extra whole wheels with him, stuff to fix the chain, etc.

Now stop and think about this for a minute. Surely he had a bag, I'm not sure of the size, within it some extra clothes/blankets/whatnot since it gets cold in the south of Argentina (hey, it is the bottom of the world), his tent, extra tires, stuff to fix his bike, and enough food for up to 3 days ALL ON HIS RECUMBENT BICYCLE. Betcha getting up them hills sucks.

This is why I'm writing about Xander, because he is 1) biking 2) 6000 km across a country 3) he doesn't know 4) by himself 5) on a recumbent bicycle 6) loaded with everything he'll need to make the trip. It's a truly impressive feat, to be sure. It's not quite as good as biking from Canada to Patagonia***, but still, what have you done lately? I think it's interesting, writing these stories about these people. Kind of the point of the series in the blog, dont'cha think?

Oh, and I have to tell one more story about Xander because it was great. It's the definition of a "you had to be there moment" but I'm telling it anyway. So stop reading now if you don't want to be bored. Too late? Yeah, I thought so. Just hang in with me for a couple more paragraphs.

So we, of course, as Xander is Belgian, got on the topic of beer. I naturally spilled my guts about how much I love Belgian beer. Xander told us the tradition of Belgian beer, why it is so popular in Belgium, and why it has been made for long in Belgium. (Naturally, with all that practice, it's no wonder that it's so good.) So apparently, in lots of Belgian towns, back in the day, the wells (the water supplies/sources) were, unfortunately, and somehow often, placed near cemeteries. The rotting corpses infected the groundwater. So people in Belgium began making "table beer" from it. Like really weak, 3% I think Xander said. You could give it to a kid. And you had to do this because in the process of making the beer, you boiled the water and killed the bacteria. I guess you could have just boiled the water straight up, let it cool, and drank it, but where's the drunk in that?

So, after telling this story, one time a few of were standing around, shooting the shit, and we got on the subject of coffee in Argentina, and how bad it is. Then we talked about the coffee at the hostel, and how bad IT was, just the sludge that it is. So Xander goes, in his Belgian accent, "We should make beer out of it." And the crowd goes wild. Told you, you had to be there.

Anyway, I'll probably come back around and clean this up a bit later, cuz this post has literally no point. Less of a point than any other post I've written. Who wants to read about people I've met?

Love you all,
B

*Not sure if I hated, but I never really liked, The Price is Right and I like(d) Wheel of Fortune even less. More random thoughts of tv show at a later date.

**I do remember something from senior year lit, Ms. Halli! Look! And balancing on eyebeams and a piet! Or was that freshman year. Damn I can't remember. Whatever. What's on tv?

***There is a story/legend about two people biking, sort of together, from Canada to Patagonia. I haven't met them so I probably won't write about them. But damn.

Update 1 (2013-10-26):

God I'm a horrific writer

So Today I Met: An Intoduction

Hi everyone,

So, I'm writing and you're reading a blog. There is such thing as microblogging, i.e., Twitter, but I imagine Facebook posts, individually, count as well.

But, what do you call a series, or even mini-series, as it were, depending on how bored I get, within a blog? That's not rhetorical. Seriously, what do you call it? A mini-blog-eries? Frosted mini-blogs? I don't care nor do I care to commit the time to do thinking about it right now. Come back to me, I had something for this.

But, allow me to introduce, without further pomp and circumstance, or other strippers, "So Today I Met", a mini-series within my blog cataloging and discussing various perps and pimps I've met in my travels. I am writing about them because I find/found them interesting and neat enough for me to write something about (it doesn't take much). For the most part I've forgotten their names, faces, ages, details, and countries of origin. What I have remembered is not much. Enjoy!

As always, and yours truly,
B

Brennan Gets Economical: The Big City Conundrum

So, as I was walking through Buenos Aires yesterday, I thought about an interesting fact/problem that tourists may have in big cities. I believe that typically, the best stuff in a city is not on the main streets/avenues/boulevards. They are on the smaller side streets. And by best, I mean "best bang for your buck" stuff, as for food and for goods. Let me pause here a moment to define best "bang for your buck":

Let's say there's a restaurant on a main drag in New York. A meal is rated a 10, the best score a meal can receive. The price is $50. So with some math, you paid $5 for every point. Now, let's say on a side street, you get some choripan and fries. It rates at an 8, but only costs $25. Again, with some math, you've effectively paid $3.13 per star. Better "bang for your buck". Not as good a meal, but much less of a ticket price, too.

Now, I call this a "problem" for tourists. Really, it's not. It's just, life. People can spend their money however they choose. Maybe they really enjoyed their meal and were happy to pay that much more for it. And of course the restaurant and especially the city are happy for the extra revenue. But it seems like you'll only experience touristy things this way. And to me that seems bad for the tourist and the city's reputation.

How does this happen? Well, the bigger streets have more foot traffic and therefore command a higher rent. So only the more expensive places can afford to exist on the bigger streets. In cities, tourists, in order to see more and because bigger streets can take you more places, tend to stick to bigger streets. So they end up missing out on some of the better smaller stuff.

Unless you're a savvy tourist like me.

Ok, look, this idea sounded good when I first sat down to write this. I've now realized that I haven't said anything. I won't apologize for wasting your time because I doubt you came to this unimportant blog inadvertently, or stayed inadvertently. What I mean is, you knew what this was.

Love,
B

La gente aqui no pueden usar veredas correctamente

In case you're wondering, the title of this post translates to "People here can't use sidewalks correctly."*

And, well, you'll be happy to know that's the gist of this post. It's very short but I figured I'd make a post of it instead of a Facebook post or tweet. What's the definition of microblogging, anyway? Requirements, please.

Seriously, the majority of people here DO suck at walking on sidewalks. Most sidewalks are the normal width, comfortably fitting 2 people walking past each other, or 3 side-by-side (lado a lado) at most. Even Avenida de Mayo, which has sidewalks 3 times as wide, is littered with kiosks and chairs using the sidewalk as a patio, completely defeating the purpose of a wider sidewalk. When I'm walking, or God help me if I'm running, people either don't recognize that exist, and therfore don't move, or do recognize I exist and don't give a shit, and therefore don't move. Some people are actually quite nice and yield the sidewalk when I'm running, but that's less often than not. I usually try to get out of the way because I'm the one running. Lookit, kids, I don't care about you and you don't care about. Let's just get past each other and move on.

And it's not just when we're going the opposite direction. People, when alone, will walk in the middle of the sidewalk, really slowly, not realizing it makes it hard for people to pass them. They just don't realize other people exist in the universe. Pick a side, people! Yeesh, you greedy fucks. Or they'll step out of shop right into a busy sidewalk, not realizing they're about to cause a traffic jam. Jesus people, GTFO of the way. Seriously. I'm not walking 7 km for my health. It's because I don't want to pay for a taxi and forgot that the Subte here is actually very good. It's very frustrating, my stupidity and their lack of awareness.

In case you're wondering, or assuming at this point, that I'm taking this too personally, I am. But it doesn't mean I'm wrong. I've seen it with other people. The lady holding her child struggling to get past the old man lazily taking his afternoon constitutional, dreaming of birds and Edgar Allen Poe. The businessman in his business suit trying to pass the child stopping to look at everything all the while he's late for the 4:30 conference call with Wall Street. People just don't realize the impact they're having on other people. Butterfly effect, kids.

Also, I'm sure you've figured it out by now, this post has turned quite satirical/farcical/sarcastical. You kind of had to realize it with the title of the post. Without further complicating it, enjoy!

-B

*Vereda is the Argentine word sidewalk. In the US (ok, wordreference.com doesn't make sense. I get there are people in the US that speak Spanish, but is there such thing as US Spanish??), it's "acera" and in Mexico it's "banqueta". Whew.**

**Obviously I didn't know any of these words and am practicing my Spanish. The end.

La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 5: LCDLM In Review and The Making of a Man (Magic)

I'ma let you finish, but...

This is the story of my adventure to La Cuevas de Las Manos (The Cave (bum bum BUUUMMM) of Hands). So much to say. Where to begin.

After writing this post, it was so long I knew I'd probably give some a hatred aneurysm, so I cut it into several pieces.

Part 5: Confidence and A Beautiful Experience

I'll make this pretty quick. This blog post was so long I split it into 5 pieces so I'm sure you're tired of reading about it.

La Cuevas de las Manos and the trip to and from were both amazing, both equally and differently. The cave itself was incredible. Really a beautiful experience. These drawings, done how many ever thousands of years again, have stood up to any number of the elements, including some of the strongest wind on the planet*. These humans, this early us, left their mark on this world, on our planet, us to them, reaching through the rock, their paintings, through time, to touch us, regardless of skin, hair, teeth, religion. They didn't care. They said "Here, our hands. Reach and touch us. We cannot stay and you cannot take us with you. But we are here forever. Our lives." I cannot say I felt any big religious overthrow in my bowels or feel any closer to humanity, God, or Jesus. I had built it up too much in my head for that. And maybe that wasn't the point.

As for the trip itself, every step of the way, I did myself**. Figuring out exactly where TCOH was after only reading a bit about it a few months before going. Finding/booking the flights. Renting the car. Driving in Argentina with no GPS and a joke of a map. Staying in a place that has versions of modern conveniences but is certainly not what I'm used to. Driving to TCOH, across gravel, dirt, and danger. And finally seeing it. Sitting there. Looking. And the return. I know it doesn't sound like much, but for me, it was huge. And important.

You can't buy that kind of experience. Irreplaceable. You have to go out and do it. You'll be so much better for it. And I did it.

Love you all,
B

*Try kicking a field goal here. You'd have to kick in the opposite direction.

**Again, recognizing my grand fortune and socioeconomic circumstances.

La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 4: I mean, there is a cave, but (Brennan messes up magic tricks)

I'ma let you finish, but...

This is the story of my adventure to La Cuevas de Las Manos (The Cave (bum bum BUUUMMM) of Hands). So much to say. Where to begin.

After writing this post, it was so long I knew I'd probably give some a hatred aneurysm, so I cut it into several pieces.

Part 4: A New Hope... nah, I kid: THE CAVE, and THIS TIME, it's not a shitty movie

When last we saw The Lone Ranger, he had completed his drive to La Cueva de Las Manos. I arrived at 12:15 and the next tour was at 1. I hung out in the cabin I was supposed to hang out in, wondering if my little 3 door ninja could make the return trip back to Perito Moreno and reading all the information they had up in the cabin about the cave. Again, in Spanish and English. So that helped. I found a mistake or 2 in the English here hee. Always fun.

So we get going. The tour is, of course, in Spanish, so I understand some, especially because the guide (guia touristica) spoke a lot with her hands. Very helpful. We walk out of the side of the cabin and along a travel part way down in a valley. This by itself is beautiful. Absolutely marvelous. Reminds me of The Grand Canyon, which I've never seen, but, you know, Murica.

Time to pause for a second: I'm not sure how many years ago it was, but Argentina made a big deal/project out of this park, or at least the paintings. I'm very proud of them. They created the roads to get down here, the awful but passable gravel/dirt access roads, the cabins for tours and to house the tour guides/workers, but the stairs and handrails to help you walk/not fall to your death down the side of hill into the bottom of the gorge, and put up protective fence to protect assholes from touching the paintings. Good job, Argentina. This site is important to both your country and the entire world. Where we came from. Our beginnings. Just, incredible. EXCEPT FOR THE FREAKING WEBSITE, THE EASIEST PART. I'll eventually let this go.

I'm in a group of I think about 8 of us (tour guide included). A family of 4 I think, if I remember correctly. It appears to be maybe 2 brothers, a woman (relationship unknown), and a mother/abuela. The two brothers would stop and get photos at every place we stopped on the tour, and sometimes in between. It was dorky but cute. There was also an Argentine couple that was driving from Buenos Aires to the south of Argentina, including crossing the country west to east, then returning by car. WHEW a long trip. The 7th and 8th persons are, of course, myself and the tour guide.

We walked through this canyon, halfway up the hill, the highest part you could possibly walk before the rockfaces begin and you can't literally go any hire without ropes or ridiculous jumping ability. We come to the first section where there are drawings and paintings of mostly hands and various other things, like animals or human like figures. THIS is where the cave is. It's one cave, not that deep (profundo) with some drawings inside, mainly on the right. There are far more paintings on the actual canyon walls as you walk along. The tour guide explains in Spanish while I don't pay attention. I help the family take photos and they return the favor and get some of me.

Note: I sort of mentioned it earlier, but anywhere there are drawings that you can touch, there is a fence separating you from them. It was really disappointing to have come all this way and not be able to get up close and personal with some ancient hand drawings, but I understand why they're there. Cuz people are assholes and would fuck them up. Hell, some people don't wait (I'm referring to the Banksy works and some of their defacings in the month of October 2013). The folks there even built a staircase up to a part where recent humans had fucked up a few of the drawings just to show you why they had to protect the rest. Made sense. And I think somewhere some asshole wrote his name. I am not sure I got a photo. I hope I didn't cuz fuck that guy.

So we walk along and, it's not continuous, but every little bit there are more and more drawings. It's fabulous. Really, really stupendous. I loved it. I got copious (or at least generous) amounts of photos. And the valley view really complimented the entire experience. Both were equally beautiful.

So we go to the end which overlooks the kind of cul-de-sac over the valley. We return, I hang out briefly, and then I got back in my car to begin the uneventful trip back.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the pit-bull puppy. One of the workers there had a 6 month old male pit pup. He was ADORABLE. I was sitting down and he jumped up and put his paws on my knees and licked me in the face. Loved it.

And that's all she wrote, for now. Be on the look for Part 5: A Final Overall Review of La Cueva de La Manos.

La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 3: The Drive To The Cave and What Men Are Made Of (The Prestige)

I'ma let you finish, but...

This is the story of my adventure to La Cuevas de Las Manos (The Cave (bum bum BUUUMMM) of Hands). So much to say. Where to begin.

After writing this post, it was so long I knew I'd probably give some a hatred aneurysm, so I cut it into several pieces.

The Drive To The Cave and What Men Are Made Of

The drive to TCOH from Perito Moreno is 116 km. Google says 163 but it doesn't know about the (new?) access road after 88 km south. 88 km of smooth sailing.* Then about 13-15 km of hell, then a final 13-15 km of not bad, with a final "poop your pants" moment at the end. Quite the finale.

After the 88 km of yellow brick road, you turn onto a dirt/gravel/bullshit access road. I get it's probably not worth it to pave the road, but damnit your tourism strategy SUCKS, ARGENTINA! ALL CAPS EXPLETIVES! This road you really can't go more than 40 km on (you know, 25-30 mph). It's just too much gravel and rocks and I'm in a 3 door POS. But it was fun.

There were a few very steep parts of the road, to go up or down on, and of course, I knew I'd have to do the opposite on the return trip. There were guardrails in most spots where there should have been but a couple where there weren't. If I had started sliding left-to-right, or vice versa, uncontrollably, I would have had to bail out. No joke. This road was so steep in several spots, than, it was like that feeling you get right when you get to the top of a rollercoaster and you kind of lose your breath right before you drop and your nuts end up in your throat (or ovaries. I'm totally equal opportunity/pro choice, ladies.) I'm not kidding, that's how steep this shit was. Just "bang them drum, slowly" down these roads. And going up, it was 1st or 2nd gear and "come on, come onnnnnn, COME ON BABY WE CAN DO THIS! WOOOO!" And then I'd feed it a carrot. I was really grateful to have a manual at these times.

Also, this road was both simultaneously wide and narrow. You really wanted to stay away from the sides, or at least away from danger, so more in the middle. It was more than wide enough for 2 cars to be side by side but you never really wanted that happen. And I thank God it never did. To me, anyway.

On a personal note: doing this, this trip, the planning, the renting a car, driving on this road has given me a great deal of confidence in what I can do. I've never been terribly self-sufficient but I'm proving to myself I can be. A trait which can be learned and improved. It's a cliché, but I'm sure you've seen in a movie or TV show or perhaps someone has said something similar in real life: "You see, nothing seems that hard when you've looked a tiger right in the eye and he blinked first."**

Having conquered these really steep roads, up and down, mildly worrying about them on the way back, I come to a T. I think it says 15 more km to the left is TCOH. To the right, I can't remember, El Calafate maybe? So whatever, I go left. This road is WAY BETTER. Well, that's relative. Still not paved, just less actual gravel. More packed dirt. And it's great, I can up to like 60 km on this road. I passed all sorts of animals: alpaca (sp?), horses, cows. I almost stopped and took a photo of this group of cows. I would have posted it with the caption: "What is this, India?!" But, alas, no WiFi and I would have forgotten to post it anyway. I passed other animals on this excursion in general. You had to be pretty careful sometimes because, well, you don't want to hit them. They'd screw up my car/strand me and walk away laughing.

So finally I reach the entrance. You have to go down a road that alternates direction because it's so steep. I remember 2 sharp cutbacks but I think I'm misremembering. I think there were more. Oh, and this part of the road was DEFINITELY only wide enough for 1 car. If you met another car, you're totally fucked. And with no guardrail. Jesus. Almost pooped a brick.

And then, you get there. There are two nice, well-constructed log cabins there, one for tourists to hang out in while you wait for the tour to start with loads of info on TCOH. The other was for the workers there, I believe, to live, or at least keep their stuff in. Again, Argentina, you frustrate the shit out of me. You can do this, with your bilingual signs, but not a simple bilingual website. Just, damn it.

And that's it! I've got another post about the cave itself but nothing on the return trip. It was basically this post in reverse, but with a little less sweat and a little more confidence.

*Argentine roads, it seems, are as good as US roads. Really very nice. Nice work, Argentina.

**Brennan, for the love of God (capitalized here for effect), go back and put the Justified quote in here about staring down a coal train.

For more, see: La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 4: I mean, there is a cave, but (Brennan messes up magic tricks)

La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 2: The Trip (The Turn)

I'ma let you finish, but...

This is the story of my adventure to La Cuevas de Las Manos (The Cave (bum bum BUUUMMM) of Hands). So much to say. Where to begin.

After writing this post, it was so long I knew I'd probably give some a hatred aneurysm, so I cut it into several pieces.

The Trip

I also considered renting a car and decided on the way there that's what I was gonna die. For multiple reasons, but one being that the buses ran to Perito Moreno at like 7 something in the morning and 7 at night. My flight was at 5:15 AM (it was the cheapest of 3 flights that day and Priceline is the devil when it comes to changing flights) so I would effectively sit all day in this town until 7. It was a beautiful little town/city (citylet?) right on the Atlantic ocean.

So I figure I'll land and go straight to the Hertz or Avis office. Which did exist, in fact. Except that I flew in to CR on a national holiday (a "feriado"). Something like "Appreciation for Cultural Diversity Day" or some shit. Did you know that Argentina has more national  holidays than any other country. I don't know if that's true, but I swear they have like 15 or 16. No joke. So the offices weren't open. Fuck. So I cabbed into town** and went to a hotel. They were REALLY nice. They broke out the phonebook and started calling car rental places. And finally, at one, someone answered! The hotel guy, who spoke okay English, thought it was a good idea at this point to put me on the phone with the car guy who spoke no English. I don't know if you know me, but if you do, you know my Spanish is horrible. I have a very specific set of requirements that must be met in order for me to speak Spanish, including that I am looking at the person. Talking on the phone violates the first law of robotics, er, that. I'm sure I misunderstood, but I thought he said something about meeting in an hour. So I set out to walk to the office, which isn't super far. Of course it's closed. I figure "You win this round, Argentine trickster." It's probably appropriate to play tricks on foreigners on "Appreciation for Cultural Diversity" Day.

I return to the hotel and, with the help of the front desk guy, we call the place again. Dude answers and, otra vez, hotel guy thinks putting me on the phone is a wise move. I swear he and car guy are colluding on this prank. But (BOOM) I turned it around on them. I put hotel guy back on the phone with car guy! You know, since they both speak Spanish. Hotel guy hangs up the phone and, looking disappointed their joke was short-lived, tells me the guy is coming to the hotel in "10 to 5" minutes.

So this guy shows up, I think his name is Hugo, and we go to his office. It was definitely closed for the holiday but he was nice enough to rent me a car. And by rent me a car, he rented me something with an engine. I’ll eventually pull down the photos from my camera and post a photo of this boxcar racer with the blog. It was a 3-door Chevy something or other. And by 3 door, I mean 2 doors with a hatchback. I’m a real-life Cyril Figus. I try to do something smart, smoothe, or suave and royally, despite my best efforts, fuck it up. In my defense, I did ask for the “most economical” (read: cheapest piece of shit you have) car they had. And boy she was a beaut. And a manual, which was actually a hellua lotta fun. I was really hoping it was going to a manual.*

Fortunately, too, he had a map of where I should go! Like right to the town! A bit south then straight west. Perfect! Had a been renting from a real car rental agency, not “Hugo’s House of Horrors, Wonder Emporium, and Tragical History Classes Car Rental (DID YOU GET THE JOKE YET??) Agency”, I would have gotten a (real) car with a (real) GPS. But they were fresh out of reality that day, so I got a 3 door bad joke from “Will and Grace” and a piece of paper map. Just like the pioneers did it! And I know what you’re thinking: “Brennan, my oh my, you haz a smartphone! They all have great GPSing and map apps! Where’s your brain at, puto?!” Well, good point, and did Google map some directions before I left. But it only helps so much when your phone only works on WiFi outside of the US. In the end my phone was helpful because I did get lost after 11 km…which is a pretty good start.**

With everything ready to go, Hugo having specified multiple times about the specific type of gas to get, he starts telling me I should stop in the next town called Rada Tilly (yes, Rada Tilly, you read that right) for lunch…somewhere…blah blah blah. I figure it’s closed anyway due to the holiday. In its defense, Rada Tilly is a GORGEOUS beach town. I mean, just stunning. I got a photo or 2 I’ll post…eventually…But I didn’t stop  because I had 14 horses rearing the heads underneath my engine, begging me to release their might all over the highway. And release them I did.

So the trip across Argentine was fabulous. Gorgeous. I really was an idiot for not at least getting a couple photos of the rock formations. On the way, from the start, you pass through 3 towns, then just drive, baby. However, in these 3 towns, the signage either a) sucks or b) LITERALLY DOES NOT EXIST. Hence, I got lost in all 3 towns for 15-20 minutes, or probably even more, searching for the route through town. And no I didn’t stop anywhere on the way to ask directions because I couldn’t find a convenience store I looked like I could trust. No offense, Argentina, but I didn’t trust it. Fortunately these 3 towns are all early in the trip and I could just cruise the rest of the way. Lots of fun. Straight west.

Something I didn’t notice until I got to Perito Moreno was the wind. EL VIENTO ALLI EN LA PROVINCIA DE SANTA CRUS ES  MUY FUERTE HOLY POOP!. I, of course, didn’t notice because I was in the car and thought the gusts of wind pushing my ultralight car around were more cuz of the car, not the wind. But man, seriously, the force wind is strong with this one. They even have road signs of trees getting blown over by the wind. Another thing I wish I’d gotten a photo of. Looks like one of those whacky inflatable tube guys blowing in the wind. Or a breakdancing palm tree.

I finally reach Perito Moreno and after fighting the wind, I check in at the hotel. There are NO hotels in Perito Moreno with websites that allow you to do reservations, only by e-mail and phone. I sent 2 e-mails and got responses to them AFTER I’d already checked into the hotel dot dot dot. So I called using my tablet and all they took down was my name and number of nights. Wow. But, lo and behold, I was in their book when I got there. The room they gave me had 2 twin beds so my bag got a good night of rest, too, and the internet was super slow, but it worked.

The next morning I walked to the tourism office (ok, Argentina, actually having a tourism office here was smart, but why can't you have a just damn good website about TCOH, too. YOU HAVE A WHOLE FREAKING BUILDING BUT YOU CAN'T HIRE AN EIGHTH GRADER TO BUILD A WEB PAGE? Jesus.) and a very sweet girl helped me get directions and information (like, when the park is open) for TCOH. I also spoke with someone about driving me: he said he would charge me less since it was just me (he normally takes 2 people) for 500 pesos (roughly $62.50 US). I said no, I'll just drive.

*Argentinians tell me that manuals are super popular here and that automatics are for poor people (ha ha) and ferrets with drivers licenses. I’ve heard the estimate of 95% manual, 5% automatic. Someone said “Oh, in the US it’s the opposite!” and laughed and I said, “Driving an automatic is easier, so we’re not working hard, we’re working smart.” I think something was lost in translation.

**This is ACTUALLY a time I wish I had a Nokia Windows Phone because they have a) spectacular maps and b) offline maps (!!!)

For more, see: La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 3: The Drive To The Cave and What Men Are Made Of (The Prestige)

La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 1: The Plan (The Pledge)

I'ma let you finish, but...

This is the story of my adventure to La Cuevas de Las Manos (The Cave (bum bum BUUUMMM) of Hands). So much to say. Where to begin.

After writing this post, it was so long I knew I'd probably give some a hatred aneurysm, so I cut it into several pieces.

The Plan

So, as I was "planning" my South America journey, I discovered something called The Cave of Hands (TCOH). Not sure how. Random research, I'm sure. And I said "Hey, can I get a fresh coal?" Oh, and, "I MUST DO THIS."  I guess I should explain what TCOH is. It's a cave in the middle of rural Argentina where they are paintings, both like handprints and negatives (the outline of the hand) done by cavemen, like, a long time ago. I forgot if it was 9300 years ago or 9300 B.C. A LONG TIME AGO, OKAY? And there are some other drawings, like of animals (a hunt, I imagine) and people. But mainly hands. TONS OF HANDS. There's even one of Les Miles clapping. Actually, no joke, there are 2 rocks that look like that. Well, of someone clapping. I prefer to think of Les Miles but his clapping form is so ridiculously asinine. I'll eventually get the photos on Facebook.

I researched a little bit about the cave and where it is located. There are several websites about it, with history, stories, testimonials, and (tons of) photos. Naturally, The Lonely Planet's site on it is very good. The one thing all of these sites is missing is a step-by-step guide on how to get there. I mean, here I am, sitting in the good ole US of A and I can't plan a trip to the rural part of a country in South America simply by searching online for a few minutes?* WHAT PLANET ARE WE ON RIGHT NOW? It's like I'm taking crazy pills. Ground control to Major Tom. Anyways, same when I was kind of planning this in Buenos Aires. I mean, I wasn't even sure if I had the right location. Google even says it's in Chile! (It displays the correct location in Argentina, though... go fig.)

I did find one bit of very, very useful, valuable information: the closest airport you can really fly into to visit the cave is Comodoro Rivadavia (CR - abbreviating here because my autocorrect is being really aggressive right now.).

So I put together this trip: fly from BA to CR, take a bus from there to Perito Moreno, which is the closest town to TCOH, then hire a driver there to take me for the day. There ARE, awesomely enough, free tours there everyday. They have tours but no website with directions. Damnit.

*This excludes all websites in Spanish. I was too lazy to translate. Although, I know this sounds dickish, but English would be wise here, oh Argentine internet gods. You know for the sake of tourism. I have a whole other post on that, though.

For more, see: La Cueva de Las Manos - Part 2: The Trip (The Turn)

Iguazu. Or Puerto Iguazu. Oh whatever, THE WATERFALLS. Damnit: Part 2 - Go Round n Round

Iguazu: The Bus Trip

 

I want to talk a minute about the buses and the bus experience to and from Iguazu. Really, one will suffice. I just want to talk about the bus for a minute, okay? The buses, from my entire experience of sitting on all of two, are very nice in Argentina. And probably most of South America, from what I’ve heard from other travelers. They have to be, really, because there isn’t much other option than driving yourself some places. Air travel is less common and there isn’t a great train network in SA.

 

“Wow, Brennan, you describe them as ‘nice’. You really paint a picture. A regular Jackson Pollock of the pen to paper artform, no doubt. Nooooo doubt. Hey, is that Bill Shakespeare over there?! I LIVE IN A VAN! DOWN BY THE RIVER!” Ok, haha, I get it, harsh inner self. (I hate it when people say they're their own toughest critics. Shut up. Just, please, okay? Thanks.) I’m not a great writer. I get it. Allow me (permitame) a describir (to describe) the buses here. The ones I’ve been on are double decker, like legit, walk up a set of stairs, not the bunk bed style double decker (India, AHEM). The buses are very well-constructed. They appear new, with a modern style, for example the outside corners of the buses are rounded, resembling newer, more modern styles of autos (cars) in recent years. The paint is typically bright, in lime green or mango, like a Lamborghini… … dot dot dot. The floors of the inside have the pattern like that of a car showroom, painted a light grey with the specks they put on it. It’s pleasing. It seems unnecessary because, hey, it's a bus. Function over form, right? But, see above paragraph about competition. The seats are wide and spacious with a footrest that folds down. The construction I was in was 2 seats on one side, 1 seat on the other. They are well-upholstered; the seats are neither torn nor tattered. And they are comfortable (!!!).There are monitors every few seats for playing typically movies or sometimes a bit of music. The windows have shades that you move horizontally (as opposed to vertically) for sleep at night.

 

There are several types of buses, distinguished by how far their seats recline.The ones I remember, the ones you shall only know of due to my poor memory and the fact that we both know you’re not gonna go Google (or Bing!) South American bus styles, are called “semi-cama” and “cama”. No, not comma. Cama is the Spanish word for “bed”, and hairdresser. Is he being serious? No. It just means bed. Obviously cama bus seats recline further and are more expensive. (Ok, just one second. Who…WHO thought of that? “How do we differentiate our bus experience and create different and competitive pricings?” “HOW FAR THE SEATS RECLINE.” “GENIUS!” “There’s nothing to uhhhhh…to uhhhhh…to uuuuuhhh DO.” “Brian, Brian, gimme, gimme your keys, you’re drunk.”) I think the cama seats recline maybe 160 (where is the degrees symbol…who ever uses this except for physicists and drunk cats…oh here we go) 160°, semi-cama I think is 130° (copy paste, fools!). So, cama in this case is perhaps a misnomer since it’s not like a bed, a full 180° (3 degree symbols in one blog post? Now you’ve gone too far, Brennan. I was questioning 2, but 3 is just wholly unrealistic.) I imagine it’s perfect if you suffer from heartburn, though. I haven’t tried semi-cama, but I surmise it was worth it to pay for the extra 30°. I do hope (using the subjunctive here) there are at least 2 other styles of bus: superULTRAcama, with a ONE HUNDRED NINETY degree experience (Degree Ultra Extra Dry: a deodorant, possibly champagne-inspired experience, for men) and “Poor as fuck”: no seats, you get to stand for 20 hours. Nah, that’s mean.

 

As for the experience: comfortable, relaxing, and uneventful. Not bad scenery. Some stops along the way. They played several shitty movies and ZERO good movies. Oh and of course the movies were in English with Spanish subtitles or in Spanish with no subtitles. The audio was hit or miss. They played that movie with Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo where she’s in a coma (not cama) and haunts his new/her old apartment. Honestly, dude, Mark Ruffalo, love you, man, but Jesus. You have the potential to be one of the best leading men in Tinseltown, but this? Just, Jesus. DOA, brother. Yeah, okay, I would have taken the money, too. I guess not every movie every actor does is great. (Can’t think of a good joke/reference here. “Got a clip? Oh, no clip? Thought we had a clip.”) And I guess they played Ice Age 3? AW-FUL. Like so awful I almost cried it was so awful. And not just cuz of the hilarious guy who was speaking in place of Ray Romano in Spanish. And they also played the Marlon Wayans' movie (I think I have the right Wayans brother here?) that’s a spoof on the Paranormal Activity movies. HILARIOUS. I feel like Marlon Wayans is super underappreciated. Wasn’t he in “Requiem For A Dream”? And isn’t that supposed to be a good movie? I mean, I can’t blame him for doing the GI Joe movie. No, it should have never been made. EVER. But it had like Dennis Quaid, JGL (HOLY SHITBALLS JGL WAS IN A GI JOE MOVIE. THE FUCK?), and, um, Channing Tatum. Weird.

 

Anyways (de todos modos), the sleep was very good! Way better than you’d think you’d get on a bus!

 

And that’s all she wrote kids. I don’t think I’d wanna do a longer bus trip, but 19-21 hours ain’t so bad.

Iguazu. Or Puerto Iguazu. Oh whatever, THE WATERFALLS. Damnit: Part 1 - A Review Of The Actual Waterfalls (Updated)

So, north of Buenos Aires, where Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil meet (yearly for a friendly basketball tourney. Ok, I wish.) there lies (lays?) the magical town of Iguazu. There should be an accent over the first "u" here, but if you're reading this, you've accepted my laziness. I guess the full name is Puerto Iguazu. I don't know and I don't care. The important part is: Iguazu. I guess the other important thing is it is home to some of the most spectacular waterfalls, if not the most spectacular waterfalls, in the world. I say waterfalls (plural) because there's plenty of them and all of them are breathtaking. Keep reading for more on my journey, thoughts, and peep my Facebook for 3 albums worth of photos. Beware: there are a few pictures of my ugly mug. You've been warned.

Iguazu: The Journey

So,  before arriving in Buenos  Aires, I'd never heard of Iguazu, which is...embarrassing. Several people were like "You've never heard of Iguazu?" My responses ranged from "I'm an ignorant American, what do you expect?" to "Shut your mouth." to "No hablo español bien." Which are all pretty much the same thing. So, if you've never heard of Iguazu Falls, now you have. You also no longer have an excuse not to go. Money's tight? Sell that shiny new DVD player you just bought. Mortgage your cat. I don't care, JUST GET THERE. I spoke with people about it in my respective hostels about and I heard it takes about a 20-21 bus ride to get there. Or like maybe 3 hours by plane. So I'm like "Well, poop, now I gotta do this." More on this later, but the point of this trip is not to travel extensively. But some things are too good to pass up.

So I form a plan: leave on Monday, arrive on Tuesday, stay two days, leave on Thursday, return to BA on Friday. At least I save on a couple of nights of paying for a hostel, right? I buy my tickets and figure out how the bus station works. Love learning new stuff! I knew where it as because, well, I'd run past it a few times. Nah, it really was cool to take an overnight bus in Argentina, just to have done it. Confidence builder. More on that for another blog post.

So I got there Tuesday, talked to a tourism guy at the bus station (cleverly and conveniently placed, Argentina, well done) and figured out about getting to the Argentine park and crossing over to the Brazilian side. Oh, I didn't mention that. It's a big national park, well, I guess international, shared by Brazil and Argentina. It's not really that important to know that fact. The guy tells me it takes about a day to see the Argentine side and half a day for the Brazilian side. So I figure, given the amount of time I have, I'll see half the Argentine side Tuesday, then the Brazilian side in the morning on Wednesday, and the rest of the Argentine side Wednesday afternoon.*

Quick side note/interjection CUZ IT'S MY BLOG AND I DO WHAT I WANT! (I run with 12 gangs!): the cost to enter park: $170 pesos. When you leave, if you talk to the ticket guys, they'll scan it and you can re-enter, provided you have your original ticket and your passport, for a 2nd consecutive day, for half-price. But only for the 2nd day and only if it's consecutive. CONSECUTIVE, people. Your ticket won't work on the Brazilian side, though. Duh. Only an idiot would think it might. ... *crickets*...Oh, and the stupid, stinking bus out there costs I think $70 pesos for a round trip. So I totally mcgoatally paid for that 2 days in a row. From what I can tell, it's a normal city bus (colectivo) so I probably could have just gotten on at a normal stop and paid $3 pesos. WHATEVER, LANA.

So, Tuesday, I go to the Argentine side. I think I got in at like 1:50 PM maybe (??). After dropping my stuff off at the hostel and taking the bus 20 km out to the park, I've effectively got maybe 2.5-3 hours to check it out until it closes at 6, but I need to be back at the entrance at 5:30 just in case so I don't miss the last bus back into town. In my mind, the Argentine side has 3 spots, besides the gift shop (yes, it's touristy there, but you get the great benefit of seeing amazing waterfalls. Get over it...he said to himself.): The Throat Of The Devil (La Garganta Del Diablo), The "Upper" Circuit, and The "Lower" Circuit. The Throat Of The Devil takes you to overlook the biggest, most prominent, and first (as in, it's the first waterfall/beginning of the river and there are more falls furher down the river and on the sides of the river off of cliffs) falls from the side, the upper circuit takes you near the top, and the lower circuit much lower when you can get much closer to the falls and get showered by them.**

I decide Tuesday to just do The Throat Of The Devil. You take a train to it, which has 3 stops: the entrance to the park, a middle stop where you get off to hit the upper and lower circuits, and then The Throat Of The Devil. The recommendation is to walk to the 2nd stop and board there rather than wait at the first stop which is filled with people. Warning: the 2nd stop is also filled with people. Such lies in this place.

So I walked to the 2nd stop, boarded the train, got to the stop, and walked out to The Throat Of The Devil . UnFUCKINGreal. Incredible. Absolutely incredible. Probably definitely the coolest thing I've ever see. And if you stand in one spot you can get misted on. Really neat. Check Facebook for an album titled*** for photos.

So then I trained it back to the front, bussed it back, and went to sleep. I guess now is a good time to explain how the Brazil side works. I booked it with the tourism guy at the bus station. A guy in a car (a "driver") collects you (another side note: that's why in-town buses are called colectivos*, because they collect people) at 7:30-8:00 in the morning (hence why I didn't party the night before, 7:30 AM is effing early...oh, and there's not much fiesta in Iguazu that I could find, not that I looked that hard, EFF OFF), collects other people at their respective hostels, takes you through Argentine then Brazilian customs, drops you at the park, picks you up some odd hours later, and do the first part of the trip in reverse (I don't feel like retyping all of that. You get the idea, I'm sure.) Costs $100 pesos a person. Oh, random side note...on the Brazilian side, the driver just took our passports, when in, and got them stamped. Like, do they even care at all who enters their country? Anybody could have been in our car. Like, ANYBODY. They didn't match our faces to our passports or anything. Dudes are just sitting back, sipping their lattés. You rock, Brazil. Argentina, well you were not so lax. More on that in a second.

So (side note: Brennan, find a new way to stop paragraphs other than with the word "so"), we get to the park, which, we got there early so we had to wait 'til like maybe 9 AM to enter. They took credit card, so that was good. And I was wearing my sweet Brazil Pumas. OH AND DID I MENTION I WAS IN BRAZIL? Life goal: achieved. So the park was great and the waterfalls were breathtaking, per the ush. The best part is at the end of the they've built this platform you can walk out on, like, over the water. See that other album on Facebook for pics.*** It's awesome.

So the driver returned me to the Argentine side. Argentine immigration were dicks to me about not having my paper showing I'd paid the reciprocity fee. I didn't think about keeping it on me. But apparently I should. It's not like I didn't have a stamp in there FROM TODAY showing I'd JUST LEFT ARGENTINA. Seriously, just, whatever Argentina. I won't cry for you, thank you very much.

Also, another random side note: I crossed over with these 3 people. They decided to just stay in Brazil. Neat.

So I got back, bussed (is it one S or two here?) to the Argentine side and saw the upper and lower circuit. The lower circuit was fabbysauce because you can stand really close to a waterfall and get showered. See the Facebook album*** for pics.

Anyways, it was fantastic.

Iguazu: The Journey There and Back: A Bus Tale. See also: Fiefel Goes West

This part coming soon. I'm tired and want to take a break. This post is long enough as it is.

*So, while I would definitely give myself 2 days to do the whole thing properly, like the guide said, a day for the Argentine side and at least a half a day for Brazil, it's not necessary. You can do the whole deal in a day if you're a young, in shape, fast-paced person, you know, like me. And there aren't loads of tourists in the way. It was definitely touristy when I went but it was early in tourist season so I'm sure I was lucky. Moral of the story: give yourself ample time, i.e., 2 days.

**Which rocked.

***Brennan, remember to go back and put the name of Facebook album title for people to see. Maybe even a link, you cheap bastard.

Updated (2013-10-19)

Ok, since this post looks to be the longest of my blog so far, I am going to split this into two posts, so look for part 2: The Fellowship Of The Ring.

I'm back

I SO could have titled this post "Guess who's back? Back again..." something something vomit. Or something lamer, like "I'm back". It's like those doormats that read, "Hi, I'm Mat". HA HA HA. WE GET IT. Oh, that's what my jokes are like? Shit.

Anyways, I haven't posted anything new in 10 days, and I've never posted anything good. So get ready for a slough of new posts today and tomorrow. I've had a couple of adventures and lots of opinions. Lots to talk about and lots of typos to make.

Love,
B

I miss beer

Twice I sat down for about 48 seconds (each time), trying to think of a clever title for this post. But this post is too serious, the topic too important to a) waste more time thinking of a title instead of just getting to writing and b) to joke about.

Beer. I miss it. Seriously. Fo sho. Fo shizzle. Fo shizzle dizzle. Something something Snoop Lion. I really miss beer.

I can hear you now, "But Brennan, you fool! They have beer in South America, in Buenos Aires, surely, of course!" And why, yes, they do...kind of. They have Quilmes (like Bud Light) and Brahma (like Miller Light...I guess. I hate Miller Light so much I've almost forgotten the taste). And other beers. German beers are quite popular in many bars, too. You can find Warsteiner (the stuff here I think is actually made here in Argentina) and Isenbeck (which is German, right?? Just...shut up). And a few others here and there, a Stella, a Budweiser. And in some places they have "artsenal" beers, which I guess is our answer to microbrews/craft beers. But please. Just please. Stop. Por favor. I tried, I dunno, 2 or 3 of these at one place. They don't hold a candle to our American microbrews. Ugh. I miss them so much. Now, I could be wrong. I haven't tried all of them. But I tried "IPA" for example. I don't know who makes it. But the beer was not "an" IPA, it was literally named "IPA". Was it an IPA? Not by a longshot. Not unless IPA means "sweet tasting liquid" (spoiler alert: it doesn't). Anyways, maybe there is good beer here. But I sure haven't found it. If you know where there is good beer in Argentina, tell me. THERE IS A REWARD.

So, American beers. I don't say American beer to be jingoistic/xenophobic/some asshole American. It's just, well, hell, I've lived most of my life there. Nearly all of it. And boy do we have some tasty brews. I miss plain ole simple Sweetwater 420, from my beloved Atlanta. Ugh, if they just had that here! NOMS. And and Lefthand Sawtooth or Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA or or God how about a Magic Hat #9 or gosh what else! Sierra Nevada! Or Terrapin Hopsecutioner! Oh man I'd hopsecute someone for some of that right now! Yeesh. Just...I miss that. I miss having so many good beers and so many so readily as my disposal (hope you get that joke...the disposal also being my gullet).

I miss it. I miss the flavor.

Now, that is not to say I don't love non-American beers, tambien. I love me some Belgian beers. The beers I thought for the longest time were the only ones that could make black out. Thanks for proving me wrong, Oktoberfest. No, seriously. Jerks. (Nah, I love you Brotoberfest. You rock. I'll come back any time, thanks.) But I love Belgian beers! Ay yi yi, in Brussels! Magnificent! I did find a Lefe here and gladly paid the billion dollars it cost due to import tariffs or what-the-fuck-ever and savored every expensive-as-liquid-gold drop. Yum!

In Defense of Argentine Beer

One other thing...I do have to defend Argentine beer and my taste for it. I buy the cheap shit here. Quilmes mainly. A little Brahma when a place is out of Quilmes. It's terrible. The thing is, I haven't found a step up from here. There is no other Argentine beer that I know of. Just these two sloggin' it out (also enjoy my use of the term "sloggin'") for the title of "Worst Argentine Beer"! Sweetwater 420 isn't the cheapest thing in the states, but I'll happily pay a little bit more for it than a Bud Light.

Anyways, love you guys. Have some Hopsecutioner on ice for me when I get back. Besos.
-B

More Discussion On Culture, But This Time A Little More Global

Well, since I just wrote a post on Argentine culture (a small, small part of it, no doubt), I thought I'd talk a little bit about the American culture, specifically, school, ambition, and travelling, and of course contrast these to a different lifestyle more popular (from what I've seen only) in Europe, Australia, and New Zealand.

From what I've seen the in US, our lifestyle is pretty formulaic. School, blah blah, high school, college (university), get a job, get married, have a bunch of kids, work for 30-50 years, have a 401K, pension, or both, you pay for your kids to go to college (if you can), those kids have kids, your grandkids, you retire, maybe do some travelling or be an old sod and stay home, maybe buy the second home, then die.

I know there are variations on this. And this isn't a bad way to do it. Typically I would say "fuck that". But that's not fair. It's really not. This way works for a lot of people and is very good. One of whom is my sister, a person I love very dearly.* If you want this, sure. What I want for Americans is they know there are other ways! There is a world bigger than this path. Of course, there is a discussion in the US right now about the cost-benefit of college. It costs x to go, but will it really pay off? Yeah, probably. IF THE THING YOU WANT IS MONEY. The discussion about the value of college is fine.

But whether college is right for everyone is not the point of this post. The point is, the world is even bigger. Sometimes I find it frustrating that in the US we don't travel enough. You went to Southeast Asia for two weeks? Yeah, it's cool. But did you live there? Did you get to know people, the locals, travellers, the culture?? If you didn't, as always, fair enough. I'm sure you had a good time and spent a lot of quid on the trip.

There is an entirely separate way to live: travelling. Of course you need some luck and some means (to get started) but you can travel and work in the places you travel. I met a guy (coming soon on an entirely new set of blog posts called "So Today I Met") who has been travelling on and off for 13 years (he may have said 16, not sure). He has seen SO MUCH of the world. It's incredible.

Sometimes I sit back and think of how big this world is and it breaks my heart and I shed a tear. It's that first peek over a bridge or a cliff and your muscles tighten and you lose your breath. I have to step back and catch my breath. This world is so big and there's so much to see. All I want to do is see it and wrap my arms around every country.

It is unfortunate that in the United States we sometimes view people like this as hippies, gypsies, unambitious, unmotivated, or otherwise out of their freaking mind. I am absolutely guilty of this. In college, I was talking with a guy about where he was going to work after college and he said he was thinking about (and actually did) take a year off and backpack through Europe. What did I think? "Hippie." Even as recently as two years ago I thought this was a hippie thing to do. I wanted to work and make money and move up in the world! But at the end of the day, you can try to move up in the world, and with a bit of luck, you can. And at the end of the day you may not have. You may be remembered as a Steve Jobs or Barack Obama. Or you might not. With travelling, you know what you are getting. It is a guarantee. And it is not an experience you can duplicate in the office.

You can go to university, get a job, have the house, the car(s), the debt (a subject I won't harp on yet), the wife, the kids, money, success, fame. Or you can travel. It's hard to do both, I think, at least, and here's the kicker: at the same time. I will most likely have both, but I want to travel young, before the rest, the wife, the kids, etc. I could die tomorrow. If I have two choices, travel or family, it's travel now. If I have a wife and kids and die tomorrow, I leave them in the lurch. Now, I just lose me. That's a selfish attitude but we all know I'm not ready for kids.

Europeans typically take a "gap year", a year in between high school and university to travel. I think Europeans are already typically more well-rounded due to the number of cultures that exist in Europe and that they interact with. But this, too, makes them more well-rounded. In the US we lack so much cultural awareness. I want more of it in the US. My heart aches for it.

In the US, we might be lazy but we work a lot. We do focus on work. Compared to the culture in Argentina especially (see my post "La Cultura Aqui"). With our friends, at bars and whatnot, we commonly ask "How's work?" Sure it's polite conversation but it's also cultural. We measure our value by what we've done, what we've achieved, our position at work, our cars, and our salaries. What's your mortgage, your mortgage payment? How many rooms does your house have? Are you sending your kid to the best school because you can afford it? This can be unfortunate and detrimental. THE WORLD. IS BIGGER. THAN THIS.**

There is a different way to live, and I want you to know of it before it's too late. In this US, yes, it's unconventional. But it is acceptable. And wonderful. It is different and difficult and you don't have to do it your whole life, or for very long. And I am sure you will not regret it. It will change you, maybe break you, but it won't fail to repair you. It is irreplaceable.

Go out and see the world, America. Not so we can be some cultured society. I don't want to force that on anyone. I want us to see the world because we are missing it. And it is beautiful.

You don't know what you don't know. But once you have one taste, one sliver, one morsel of this world, your eyes will go wide and you won't be able to blink because you won't want to miss a second more.

*What up, sis?

**I am fully aware this is the point of view for those from a background of means. But it is my background and it's what I know.

P.S. - to my employer: should you read this, I love you and have nothing but respect for you. You treat me extraordinarily well. I absolutely, 100% intend on coming back to work on March 17, 2014, as promised. Don't worry. I'll be back.

La Cultura Aqui

Thought I'd write a short post on the culture here.

As always, I am never trying to offend anyone. I am just making some observations and a few (awful) jokes. Keep that in mind. If you find something offensive or inaccurate, just let me know.

Ok, so, when I say the culture here*, I mean "The Culture Of Now. The Culture Of Today." What this means is, people here live for today. They do not think of the future. They do things like there is no tomorrow. They do not plan for tomorrow. They spend money like there is no tomorrow (not literally) and do not save for tomorrow. As a friend of mine said, (paraphrasing, I don't remember her exact words), "You can talk to men here who are 30 years old and still live at home. If you ask them their plan, if they ever intend to move out of their parents' home or what their plan is, they don't know."

It kind of helps explain the "go out at 2:30, come home at 7:00, go to work at 10:30-11:00, siesta around 2 or 3" and do it all again the next day lifestyle. Another guy I met in a hostel mentioned how it affects progress here, and where there is less here than in other places.

As always, the culturally is not 100% pervasive or saturated. Certainly not everyone here is like this. There is plenty of ambition here. There are Starbucks and McDonald's, plenty of signs of economic progress (That's sort of a joke. A mediachiste). But there is plenty of commerce here, like I said, ambition.

Having said all this, I haven't had a full-on, serious discussion with an Argentine about this. Just a few people here and there. I'll check back in when I do. Until then, peace out cub scout.

Love,
B

*I don't think this is a South American thing, just in Argentina.

More on currency, arbitrage, and XOOM (Updated)

So, I didn't know this before I got here, but the American dollar is a big deal here. As I wrote in my post "Money and Dogs", ATMs are widely available here and credit cards are pretty widely accepted here. Not as widely as in the US, but as always, I am comparing this to my experience in India, in which case, ATMs and credit cards might as well not have existed.

Anywho, let's see if I can structure this post a little better.

So, if you use a credit card here, and you're not from Argentina (como yo), through all the transaction processing and what not, the banks convert the bill from Argentine pesos to whatever currency is in your homeland and add that to your credit card bill in the currency of your homeland. With me so far? Same goes for withdrawing cash at an ATM.

A couple examples:

1. I go to a nice restaurant. Have a nice, juicy steak here, a great cut of meat right of the cow. They have good steak here. And good wine. So throw in a couple bottles of wine. Let's say the bill is $200 pesos. And let's say the bank rate (you can Google it, it shows up right in the search results, you don't have to click any links) is 5.8 pesos to 1 USD. So 200 pesos becomes $34.48. Throw in any fees, and that gets added to by credit card bill. Sweet. This is how it works in any country.*
2. I go to the ATM. I withdraw $500 pesos. Conversion, blah blah $86.21 USD is deducted from my bank account.

Still with me?

But, so, la gente de Argentina (the people of Argentina) expect their currency will face inflation in the short term. Which is probably will. That means, among other things, the Argentine peso will grow weaker against the US dollar. What would you rather have, a currency that holds it's value better or worse? Better, of course (this sounds like an AT&T commercial with that little kid focus group). So the Argentine people would rather have the US dollar**.

So why don't Argentine people just go buy a bunch of the US dollar as an investment? Well, as far as I can tell, they can't. Not directly, anyway. For example, some travellers I've met so far, not from Argentina, have made trips over to Montevideo (Uruguay, a wholly separate country for you ignorant Americans) to withdraw cash from the ATMs IN US DOLLARS! How neat! I wonder if they have Chick Fil A yet...but yeah, so what if an Argentinian tries to do this?? Womp womp. IT WON'T LET THEM! The system sees it's from Argentine bank/citizen and bam, DE-NIED.

And why not? I'm not sure, but I've been told by travellers that the Argentine government wants the Argentine peso to stabilize a bit better and they want to fight inflation. If everyone is running the USD, that makes it harder. Not sure about all this, though.

So what do Argentinians do instead? Buy it on the blue market/black market***. You'd think the blue market was run by Heisenberg. Anyways, it's most popular down on Avenida de Florida. In fact, it's the only place I've seen so much money changing going on so frequently and in such density. There are dudes lining this street for blocks, one on either side every 10-15 feet saying "Cambio! Cambio!" (obviously spanish for "change")****. At first I was wary of these guys. Were they going to give me change right there or take me into a back alley? Would they try and short me since I don't know the currency very well here? Would I get a good rate? It doesn't help my Spanish isn't perfect, either.

As it turns out, most of these guys are pretty legit. I can't speak to the illegit ones, nor really of the legit ones. I've never actually done a transaction with these guys. Though I've met some travellers who have. They say typically they take you to a nice, legit-looking office and you're fine. And they get 9-9.5 pesos per USD. WHICH IS WAY ABOVE THE BANK RATE. By how much, you ask? Do the math. (9.5-5.8)-5.8 = 63.8%. You're getting that many more pesos for each US dollar. AWESOME.

So, what if you're like me and only bring $200 USD with you to Argentina? That first $200 goes a long way. But after? There are two options I know of:

1. Go to Uruguay. You can take a ferry, withdraw USD there, and come back, and convert  at the best rate.
2. Use XOOM. It works just like Western Union but gives you a rate FAR higher than the bank rate. Just yesterday I got 8.34 pesos to every USD (43.8% better!!). You do pay a charge that increases with the amount sent. I paid $7.50. But depending on the charge and the amount you convert, you should still do better than 8 pesos per dollar. Yesterday I got 8.1 pesos to every dollar, so 39.66% better. Not sure if this is right, but I guess you could say that amounts to a 40% discount? Trev?
   
   Oh, and when I say it works like Western Union, you sign up, link a bank account or credit card (the fee is higher when paying by credit card), and send yourself money, then pick it up at a location in the city. BAM! Just needed my passport and gave them some info. Argentina is smart about it's AML (anti-money laundering) laws. Didn't have to wait too long, but a wait does mean the service is popular. Very smart on their part. Whenever the government creates a law, it may be creating a new and/or black market. Love it.

I imagine there are more ways than this. Probably other services similar to XOOM.

Moral of the story: if you're American, (or from somewhere where the currency is stronger than the Argentine peso) convert your money to pesos at a great rate and pay for everything with the peso. (This includes the Euro. The Euro is even stronger than the dollar here, but it is in general). You can often times just buy things outright at stores with the dollar, but do that only if you want to do the math every time. Kind of a headache. I met one guy who got 10 pesos to a USD, but that was in Patagonia, so a higher rate there where the USD is even less common makes sense.

*If you know differently, speak now or f*ck off.

**You have to understand, the US dollar, for better or for worse, is huge EVERYWHERE IN THE WHOLE WORLD. See this. The US dollar and US government treasury bonds are the equivalent of hiding your money under your mattress (NPR's Planet Money blog, not me).

***Concerning the currency market here on the streets, I've heard the terms "blue market rate" used and "black market". I imagine it's called the blue market because the currency exchange is not illegal, but in general Argentine citizens can't really directly invest in foreign currency, either.

****Typically, these guys, and most people in Argentina, want fresh bills. None with markings or tears. Crisp, new, preferably fresh from the mint. NPR wrote a post about how this is even truer in Myanmar now as well. OH, AND HERE, $100 BILLS ACTUALLY PULL AN EVEN HIGHER BLUE MARKET RATE. Cray.

Update 1 (2013-10-01):
Dictionary.com defines "arbitrage", in terms of finance as - the simultaneous purchase and sale of the same securities, commodities, or foreign exchange in different markets to profit from unequal prices.

Seems fitting. Taking advantage of currency valuations and fluctuations to profit off of one currency in another. And given that I am American, prefer my money in USD, and the standing of the USD in the world market, I suppose I'll enjoy profiting with the US dollar here.