Salta, Argentina

Salta has hype. It’s a main stop off point in the far North West of Argentina where people either branch off into San Pedro de Atacama or to the La Quiaca/Villazon border. After the 24h bus from Iguazu in the North East, I have to say, i’m slightly underwhelmed?

Part of the fuss, me thinks, is an area of bars/clubs around Balcarce street. However one ‘Calls Lane/ Silver Street’ does not a great town make!

Last night my new hostel buds and I shunned the above for an altogether more sophisticated evening at the Opera. No really. We stumbled upon a free classical concert at the Teatro Provincial De Salta, where they did a mega-mix of extracts from Carmen. Cultured or what.

I think my main beef with Salta however, is the noticeable change in climate. There is mist, and there are mountains. The temperature is starting to dip. Less than 48 hours ago I was in a bikini poolside in Brazil, blogging in a hammock. Today I’m in a hoodie and duvet wishing I had thermals. I miss the sunshine! And it’s only gonna get colder from here on in :(

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Iguazu Falls – Argentina Side

Here is a vid clip of Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat)

BA to Puerto Iguazu…

One bus. 18 hours. Here is how I did it….

Hour 1: get seat, get comfy, mess around packing and re-packing bags. Look at pretty Argentinian sunset and countryside. Have a little think about life.

Hours 2 – 5: Read a good book. Life saver. Emergency Sex – No it is not what you think. It is about war zones, Cambodia and the United Nations, who I now what to work for. Inspiring stuff.

Hours 6 – 10: Oh no, they are putting films on. Bet they are in Spanish. Wait, what is this – English. Better still its an actual trilogy of guns, cars, and the lovely Jason Statham saving the world whilst looking hot.

Hours 10 – 11: I learn my 3 new Spanish phrases of the day. Today it was “That is too expensive”, “what time” and “Sorry I am not Spanish, I do not understand.”

Hours 12 – 17: Sleep

Hour 18: Try and not look rough as hell, and get excited about Iguazu!

Simples.

Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina

This city is hard core. Two of us went for dinner last night, rocked up at a heaving restaurant, realised it was 3am?! That’s just how they roll.

So about the steak. It was….well, nice, I guess? Like I remember.  Cows of the world breath a moo of relief, I shan’t be turned. I just figured, that to come to Argentina and not try it would be a crime. A crime, people.

So Emily and I swapped our denim cut-offs for posh frocks yesterday at the sport of rah’s; Polo.  It was a big International match –  England v’s Argentina, at Campo Argentino De Polo stadium. The whole thing was brilliant. God those little ponies sure can run. Best of all, they let you onto the pitch to stamp the divots (check me with the Polo lingo.) Emily, I, and our new partner in crime Eddie decided to use this as an opportunity to get ourselves on ESPN news, larking about in the background as they interviewed players. Childish, us? Emily and I were shameless WAGS and bagged ourselves an autograph too (from a player not pony). Although I did also sneak into the horsy area and pat a few ponies. Do you get to do this kind of stuff at Wembley?

Finally, to complete my list of Argentinian cliché’s we went to see a great Tango show. Better still, we ended up at BA’s version of pineapple Dance Studio (minus any Louis Spence character) to learn us some moves. The whole thing was painstakingly awkward, school disco style, when they made us dance with boys. No, not even hot ones.

Things I will miss in BA-ville; Emily, my BFF. We met at London Heathrow when I accidentally knocked her down some stairs, and were inseparable for the next 5 days. Also, despite her spending all week in Spanish school, the only phrase we successfully came out with was ‘Donde es Evita’s grave?’ Sadly, not really applicable to many situations. I’ll miss Kyle and Andy for appointing me front of house at your imported Colombian Bean bag jacket shop empire. It was a great pitch, i’m in. I’ll also miss Ulrik for being my Sambuca bud, Oli for using phrases like ‘Safe bruv’ despite being a white boy from London, and South Africa for your exquisite taste in cocktails, and my Easter egg bunny. In the words of the great (read annoying) Jack Black; ‘That’s f*cking Teamwork.’ I hate you for introducing me to this song.  I will also miss Max, not that I ever spoke to him,  but for enabling Emily to recount this following gem….

… So Emily meets dorm mate – American, dreadlocks, talks like a total stoner man…You know the type. So they launch into the ‘where you been/where you going’ talk, and he’s spent some time in ‘She Lay.’ Emily is mucho confused, asks everyone if they’ve heard of it –  ‘shheee lay?’  This brand new mysterious country?  Took us a full day to work out he meant Chile :)

San Telmo & Recolita, Buenos Aires, Argentina

San Telmo

You know you’re in Argentina when….

A lovely old couple strike up a spot of tango in the street whilst being serenaded by live guitarists. A very pleasant way to spend my first sunny afternoon, wandering through San Telmo’s Sunday antique market.

Rocoleta

My new four BFF’s and I took a long walk through the city to BA’s numero uno tourist attraction; Cementerio de la Recoleta. Yes a graveyard. Yes it’s a little weird. Think haunted looking ornate marble shrines, with a few creepy cats for good measure, and Evita’s grave.

I saw in the early hours at La Bomba Del Tiempo. It’s a really cool outdoor block party in a graffiti clad yard where people party to the sound of improvised percussion & bongo’s. Hippy.

An.an.tas.in : The Anantasin is the name of a shipwreck just of the coast of the Sensi Parasise, Mae Haad Bay, Koh Tao, Thailand. It’s one of my many favorite places.

Lit.tle: Just because it’s cute.

Blasts From The Past…

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