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)