(Written by Mark)

 

On Saturday we arrived at Puerto Iguazu, a tourist town organized around the main event of Igauzu Falls.  We arrived at the small airport with our driver Juan Pablo waiting.  He didn´t speak any English, so this was my first chance to ditch the crutch of the lost phrasebook and let my Rosetta Stone Spanish I skills shine.
 
Juan Pablo gave us a quick tour of the town.  He drove a brand new Chevy.  Much to my surprise, Chevy´s are popular in Argentina.  As Javier had explained to us in Mendoza, they are inexpensive, reliable, and parts are easy to find in Argentina.  Who knew?  The town of Puerto Igauzu is small, but charming.  It has all the normal services a town could need, bank, post office, hotel, and lots of parrilla restaurants (Argentinian BBQs).   We went to a scenic vista at the edge of town, which was an intersection of rivers where you could see Brazil and the Ciudad del Este skyline in Paraguay.
 
After the quick tour, we went to our hotel: Hotel Cabañas del Leñador.  The digs were nice.  We had our own Cabana, complete with honor system mini-bar.  The tropical forest grounds were nicely maintained.  The only downside was that the pool was not very clean.  It seemed it wasn't high season just yet and they did not put a priority on keeping it clean.  After Juan Pablo dropped us off, we setup an appointment to go to the Brazillian side of the falls.  We hear it's good to check out the Brazillian side first then do the Argentinian side the next day.
 
Juan Pablo took us across to the Brazillian side.  There was one tense moment at the border crossing.  While waiting in the border line, I mentioned to Juan Pablo in my limited Spanish, ¨¿Es no problemo sin visa?¨  He gave us an ¨Oh Fuck!¨ look then told us let´s just proceed and see if they deny us.  I probably should have just not mentioned it and just see what the border official would do.  We knew from reading the guide book that they Brazil ¨unofficially¨ will let you through the border without a previously organized visa if they know you are just going to the falls for the day.
 
The Brazil park was organized efficiently for straight-up, lazy tourism.  A bus takes you to the drop off point.  There's a short downhill walk to the falls, then a panoramic elevator ride back up to an area with gift shops and buffets.  As far as the falls, I had my doubts, but they delivered.  As Eleanor Roosevelt exclaimed upon seeing them, ¨Poor Niagra!¨ (thanks Wikipedia).  At the bottom of the falls, named Devil's Throat, you are awed at all of sheer force of all the crashing water. 
 
We ate at a buffet with a great spread of food at the end.  The place was packed to the gills with mostly Brazillian Tourists.  I found the Brazillian tourists to be generally more rude than Argentinians.  They didn't have much respect for lines or personal space.  Even worse, the woman had zero respect for the unwritten spandex rule,¨It's a privilege, not a right.¨  There were way too many obese Brazillians just letting every muffin top, jelly roll, and pork fat piece of their bodies hang out of various shades of spandex.  We must have missed the spandex required memo.  After a Juan Pablo inspired stop off a huge bird zoo (Tucans, Flamingos, screaming parrots!), we headed back to our hotel and retired to the mini-bar and some television. (ed note: Around dusk, a cacophony of birds and wildlife outside our cabana reached a fevered pitch the likes of which we´d never heard before. It really was crazy - just screaming birds making the weirdest noises for about 20 minutes. And then a return to normal bird noises. I really would like to know which birds were responsible for the dusk time concert. It was amazing.) 
 

(Written by Mark)

 

Dear Argentina,
 
Print some more money.  
 
We learned shortly after arriving here that having exact change is a commodity.  The problem is that the ATMs only dole out 100 Peso notes (about $33 USD).  And yet, hand someone a 100 peso note and it´s like you just gave them their HIV positive test results.  We handed a 100 Peso note to a Locutorio clerk and her response was to throw her hands to the heavens and mutter ¨Dios Mio!¨ (Oh My God!).  The standard response is usually ¨Do you have anything smaller?,¨ to which we apologize and they empty out their till or call a manager over to give them more change. A few days into the trip we started organizing our purchases around where we could get change.  Normally restaurants don't complain if you bust out a $100.  A few days after that we started doing multiple ATM transactions to get smaller bills. 
 
The culprit of all this?  Argentina doesn't have enough smaller bills or coins.  http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1859249,00.html  I can recall only having a $1 peso coin a handful of times on this trip, and much of the paper bills are crusty and old.  I hypothesized this problem early on to Beth much to her doubt.  I imagine I'd get similar responses in the United States if I tried to pay for a pack of gum at a convenience store with a $100.  But that never happens, since ATMs only give out $20s and our mints are staying on top of things.

 

 

From Mark:

 

On Saturday, we went to ride horsies.  I've never ridden a horsie before, so Beth has requested I write about it so we get the first-timer perspective.  Giddy-up!

 

Backstory on the use of the word horsie rather than horse.  Richard Pryor used it on one of his old comedy albums.  As he assesses his audience (paraphrasing here), he says:  "Where's all the white people at?  You guys still fucking?  I don't see any white people anymore.  You guys stopped fucking because some rich guy told you to (in white guy voice). 'Stop having babies!  I need lots of land so I can ride my horsie!'
 
Javier picked us up at about 9:45.  It was an unusually chilly morning, in the 60s as opposed to the 80s that we've grown accustomed to.  I asked him if we should pack something warm, and he instructed us to "wear a thick shirt and bring a jacket."  So I grabbed my base layer and jacket and Beth grabbed her button-down shirt and her thin cotton jacket.
 
The drive to the ranch took about an hour and a half.  We drove up into the mountains past some scenic vistas and to the country into an area where many of the richies have their holiday homes.  Beth fell asleep within ten minutes as she normally does while Javier and I chatted.  I'm convinced that Beth has a condition in which a moving car causes her to fall asleep.  There's got to be some long medical name for it.  It happens to her every time without fail.
 
Once we arrived at the ranch, the riding commenced.  Anne and Matthew, a nice couple from England, were waiting and would also be riding. Renaldo, the Argentinian version of the Marlboro Man, was introduced as our riding guide.  Lucia, Javier's cousin and former Polo player, came out and instructed us how to ride the horse.  "You will be riding South American style.  Hold the reins with one hand.  Pull them right to go right, and left to go left, and back to stop.  Kick the horse with your heel to go."  There may have been more instruction than that but that was the gist of it. 
 
Renaldo led the way and we headed out.  Beth said I had the "look of fear" in my eyes when the horse took off, but I don't remember it that way.  I think of it more of a "what is happening?" look. [editor's note - he had the look I imagine I had when we were riding that boat in Jamaica] We headed out of the tiny village and into the country side.  My horsie, a large white horse named Tamano, kicked into slow trot and followed along.  I soon found out that I really didn't have any control of the horsie.  He was so well trained he would just follow along.  Sure, I could steer him a little bit, but he already knew the route and didn't care what I wanted.  Nor did he care about going fast.  Matthew and I were perpetually in the rear while the ladies rode out front.  

 

[end Mark's writing] Mark grew weary of writing this blog, so I will finish it off. We ended up riding for about 2 hours up into the mountains - it was beautiful but cold as FUCK. Literally, the last 15 minutes of the ride, I was just silently waiting for it to be over (and Mark confirmed that he was thinking the same). But the rest of the ride was lovely - Renaldo regaled us with information on the flora and fauna of the region. After the horse ride, we returned to the lodge and had lunch. Renaldo built a fire for us thankfully preventing frostbite from setting in and we enjoyed a lunch of steak, salad, bread and wine. (As an aside, no matter where we've gone in Argentina, the bread has been delicious and homemade. Every restaurant brings you a bread basket of at least 2-3 types of bread. Which probably means I've gained weight.) What is it about being coming in from the outdoors that makes a meal so delicious? The salad in particular, with fresh tomatoes and onion, was very simple, but tasted like heaven. And for dessert, we had simple canned peaches but somehow they were just perfect. We finished off the meal with coffee around the fire. It was a nice meal and it was fun talking to another pair of newlyweds (the Brits Mark mentioned earlier).

 

After lunch, we went to a local brewery called Jerome (after the owner). We learned that there are very few microbreweries in Argentina, and Jerome is the only one that uses only Argentinian grown hops and barley. The owner himself gave us a tour - I use the word tour loosely. It was just Mark and I along with Javier and Jerome talking about beers of the Pacific Northwest, home brewing, Jerome's brewing process, some new experimenting he's doing, etc. Afterwards, we finished off the day in Jerome's pub with a few of his beers. They were quite good. Apparently, he does have some contracts with places in Seattle, so we'll have to try it again sometime.

 

I slept some more on the ride home and then we said a sad goodbye to Javier and Mendoza. That night, we rode the bus to Cordoba and had the pleasure of going first class in the Royal Suite. It was wonderful! Our seats became completely horizontal, they served us a very good meal of roast chicken and potatoes, we drank champagne.  We kept paraphrasing that song GLAMOROUS - "riding first class up in this bus, drinking champagne..."

 

I can,t really figure out how to use the apostrophe on these Argentinian keyboards. On some, it works, and on others, it doesn,t. So I,ve decided to substitute a comma.

 

The last several days have been the nicest of the trip so far.

 

On Thursday, we went to a hotel up in the mountains that has thermal baths. It was about an hour out of Mendoza and the ride up through the desert mountain landscape reminded me a lot of California but with bluer skies. Surprisingly, we were the only English speakers on our tour. This ended up being kind of nice in its own way - we were in a little bubble of just the two of us that day. We were at the spa from 11am until 5:45pm so we had a good long time to enjoy our little relaxation bubble.

 

When we arrived, we opted to sign up for a half hour massage each. Mark had never had a massage before and they were ridiculously cheap, so it was a no brainer. We were then shown to the baths. The baths (filled with thermal water of varying temperatures) were set right on the river,s edge. The river cut it,s way through a few high cliffs - it was a beautiful scene. We spent the morning lounging in the baths, covering ourselves in mud and then drying out in the solarium, and generally just relaxing about while the smell of lunch,s barbequed meat began to fill the air. When the time came for lunch, we went to the restaurant and were confronted with a buffet the likes of which I have never seen. It was huge and comprised of a variety of vegetables prepared in many ways, several lettuce types, various salad toppings, a soup, potatoes prepared 3 ways, other sides, and then a mountain of meat of different cuts and varieties. I was literally unsure where to begin. We leisurely made our way through mounds of food and then took some time to digest before our massages.

 

Before the massage, I told Mark that he may or may not need to take off all his clothes.  Usually at home you do take it all off, but who knows what the protocol was here. My masseuse told me, in English, to take off my top only, so I assumed Mark,s masseuse would tell him likewise. I learned afterwards that she only spoke Spanish so he got fully naked and then the woman came back in and was like No and left again so he could put his pants back on. I got quite a laugh out of that story.

 

The rest of the day, we spent in the baths, sleeping by the pool and in the underground cave-like sauna. If you{re ever in Mendoza, you need to go to this place. It was heavenly. It reminded me of those old tyme novels where people with mysterious ailments spend months at a place taking in the healing waters.

 

Last night, we had our first experience with one of Argentina´s luxury buses. We took an overnight trip from Buenos Aires to Mendoza. We ended up travelling ¨cama¨class which is not the premier class, but just 2nd to that. We booked at the last minute, so we had to "settle." We arrived on the double decker bus and took our seats - they reclined 160 degrees and were cushy leather. Much nicer than a plane - even from what I´ve glimpsed of first class on a plane. The ride started out with a friendly round of bingo where I very quickly translated my knowledge of French numbers to learn Spanish numbers. I was the lucky winner and my prize was a bottle of wine! A round of applause all around for Elisabeth in Seat 14!! From there, a DVD of about an hour´s worth of music videos all featuring the exact same easy listening drum beat cycled while we were served a large dinner. After dinner, a movie was played (A Perfect Storm - kind of a dumb movie, I tuned in and out, didn´t even need the sound to understand it). Once the movie was over, lights out and time for sleeping. I slept through the night - a little restlessly, but sleep nonetheless which is shocking since I can rarely sleep on a plane. I totally woke up with swollen ankles though because of the weird incline the foot rest puts your feet at. After being served breakfast, we arrived in Mendoza! We promptly booked our next bus trip for later in the week - this time in Premier class - also known as Royal Suite - where we shall experience a full recline!

 

Today we ate a lunch of homemade pasta and then explored Mendoza by walking what felt like the entire length of it. Tomorrow, we´re off to a thermal spa for the day and Friday, a tour of local winderies.

 

Our last night in Buenos Aires, we had a very fancy meal at Bar Uriarte. It was WONDERFUL. We started with ricotta and risotto croquettes and a spinach salad with croutons, almonds, warm egg, thick bits of pancetta and a dijon and truffle oil dressing. It was maybe the best salad I´ve ever eaten in my life. I could eat that salad every day. For my main, I had a pork loin cooked with ginger and lemon in a brick oven. The meat just fell off the bone. It was an amazing meal. I wish they had their cocktail menu online as well because I had a cocktail there that I would like to drink every day before I eat that salad every day. I´m not entirely sure what was in it, I´m missing one ingredient but it did have strawberry juice, vodka and just a hint of tabasco. Towards the end of the night, I was rather tipsy and playing with my (titanium, not the ROCK) wedding ring and spinning it around on the table. DUH. It went flying away from the table and we had to enlist the staff with a huge flashlight and get all CSI to find it. Luckily, it was towards closing so no one else was in our section to be interrupted by the floor combing. After several anxious minutes, the ring was found and the evening ended well!

 

We also went to a futbol game that I enjoyed far more than I expected. We arrived an hour and a half early and sat roasting in the sun watching an usher who looked like Rodney Dangerfield harass tourists for "teep, teep, teep" every time he ushered them to their seat. Oh, everyone tipped him, locals included, but they just gave him a few coins and he moved along. He expected more from the tourists and would let them know. We were with a tour guide, so we didn´t deal with him, but we did notice Rodney yelling at our tour guide about (we assume) how he doesn´t get any teeps from the lousy tours!

 

In other news, we have seen two children urinate in public in as many days. And, sadly, if people in Buenos Aires love their dogs, then people in Mendoza abandon theirs. We have seen far too many stray dogs in our one day here. They all look like good dogs too. Sad, sad stray dogs!

 

1. I love a country that loves dogs. It´s obvious that Argentinians love dogs - they´re everywhere in all shapes and sizes. You´ll often see dog walkers walking 12 or 15 dogs at a time which is impressive. The only downside is, of course, the dog turds everywhere. Actually, when we arrived on Wednesday there were far fewer turds everywhere so I´m wondering if they street sweep at the beginning of the week or something. That´d be awesome. Anyway, it´s nice to see all the pups.

 

2. Argentina is for lovers - PDA everywhere! I´m starting to feel self-concious for NOT riding Mark´s jock in public. Here we are on honeymoon and everyone else is making out on street corners and in back booths at bars. I guess we should pay heed to the expression "When in Rome..." (or in this case Buenos Aires) and start lip locking all over the joint.

 

3. Argentina vote Obama way. Everyone who speaks to us in English asks us if we were for Obama. And when we say yes, nods of approval all around. Our waiter told us last night "All Argentina for Obama¨ It´s nice. I feel kind of sad about missing out on the election, but it´s interesting to learn just how much the rest of the world was paying attention and that they were as pleased with the outcome as us. On the plane over, the pilot came on and said "I have some news - America´s new president is Barack Obama" and then the plane exploded in applause and I broke into tears. A few hours earlier, Mark had managed to tune his MP3 player into a radio station out of Jamaica, so we´d heard the early favorable returns, but it was still a huge moment to get the official word. I still choke up every time I think about Obama winning.

 

4. I always look forward to trying the various beverages available in other countries, but Argentina has made this challenging since Coke Zero (Cero) is PERVASIVE. My beloved Coke Zero is available everywhere Coke and Diet Coke are available. I can only dream of the sweet elixir being so widely available at home. An interesting side note - at the Boca Football stadium, all the coke branding is in black and white instead of the traditional red and white - this because the Rivera team, Boca´s enemy team, has the colors red and white and no way are they advertising those colors at their stadium regardless of Coke´s global brand initiatives.  In addition to Coke Zero, we´ve been enjoying a lot of aqua con gas. For some reason, the sparkly water here is very refreshing.

 

5. BA has been nice, but we´re sort of ready to move on. Hopefully we´re off to Mendoza tomorrow (Mark is working on booking the bus as we speak - easier said than done. It seems that perhaps it would have behooved us to do a bit more advance planning/booking prior to the trip).

*What Would (el)Derlies Do? 

So far, our trip has been very laid back in pace. In fact, we are practically elderlies. For example:

 

1. We nap everyday. Naturally, this nap is preceded by us splitting a liter of beer, which may or may not be popular with the senior crowd but is certainly popular with us. Being in a country that makes mid-day naps official is very nice. We arent lazy, we are just taking a siesta!

 

2. We have persistent medical ailments. Ok, not "we", but I do. Walking around in high heels for Halloween for like 3 days and then sitting on a plane for 16 hours aggravated my bursitis. For the first 36 hours we were here, my hip was in major pain and I was bitching like a contestant in a bitching contest. I was afraid the whole trip might be ruined (like, seriously, international travel is all about the WALKING) and that I might have the unique experience of seeking medical attention in a foreign country. Thankfully, after copious amounts of anti-inflammatories (see also: naps), my hip is back to normal. Well, the first hour this morning it was still a little stiff, but it hasnt troubled me at all today.

 

3. We take guided bus tours. I dont think Ive ever taken a city bus tour before - it always seemed like something old people do. I was surprised when Mark suggested it but agreed due to the aforementioned leg pain. And for sure we were the youngest on the bus, but it did allow us to cover a lot of ground. The best part was stopping in colorful La Boca where I purchased a handmade leather belt (orange!) for 15 dollars. Nice. The tour company also tried to upsell us on a photo of us photoshopped onto two tango partners, but, like any self-respecting elderly person, we declined on the basis of outrageous cost. I suggested we take a photo of the photo (it was a surprisingly flattering capture of us) but Mark called that "low." I guess I am an even bigger cheapskate with each passing year.

 

Other than that, we have enjoyed copious amounts of dulche de leche, taken a tango lesson, eaten fabulous pizza and watched tv in our awesomely located apartment. And, of course, a staple of all trips in my experience, we have wandered around desperately hungry searching for food - the surest way to bicker with loved ones whilst travelling.

 

And a shout out to Mark - his Spanish is really good! I have been impressed at his comprehension.