(Urgh, I am not sure why but my writing is particularly poor today. Sorry!)
There is a popular saying: the writing is on the wall (which is a bible reference, by the way. This is why I always feel learning a language is ofteb difficult: it is not only about grammar, but also about cultural references, sayings, idioms, etc.). I have never really written anything permanent on a wall, but that’s also because I have been told that it is a crime to vandalize properties. During this trip, I learned about the movement to legitimize graffiti art from a few graffiti art tours. It is an interesting concept: to try to move public opinion on an action that used to be viewed as destroying properties to treasure them as art instead. Artists now spent days to paint a wall with original concepts, and usually with the blessing of the owners. Cities are slowly starting to recognize the beauties of graffiti, instead of the uniformed cookie cutter (man, so hungry for cookies) buildings we have come to know and love.
During our walking tour yesterday, the guide mentioned a great place to see graffiti in the city of São Paulo: the Beco Do Batman neighborhood (and that they will be starting a tour on graffiti soon). It definitely caught my interest (and with a neighborhood named Batman, how can I not visit?!), and so after a quick run, I took the metro and walked to see the graffiti. It was an interesting place: the graffiti simply started out of nowhere and took over all the walls for about one block. Since today is Sunday, many of the shops were closed and there was no much traffic on the street, allowing for some great photo opportunities. Unfortunately, with my limited knowledge of graffiti artists and symbolism, I can only appreciate the drawings in my limits capacity. I think a tour wold be a great idea, but of course I am bias from my great tour experience in Bogota.
For dinner, I met up with a new/old friend: Renato from Mendoza. Argentina. He was nice enough to take time from his buys work and study schedule to have dinner, and brought along 12 friends (luckily we did not come up to 13…). We had a pretty decent conversation going on with limited (my favorite word of the day) English and Spanish mixed with Portuguese. It was so great to meet a friend from the trip, and even better to be able to meet some locals (mostly Asians) who shared their experience and views.
It is tough to change people’s views and expectations. From graffiti to race to interracial marriages (something we discussed a little during dinner) to politics (how the current Brazilian president only has 7% approval rating), change is tough. I guess it take a long of character and persistent effort to affect other people’s view points, and even more hard work to affect the change. I am just glad there are people with enough conviction and strength to lead the way for the rest of us to follow.
(Well, it is a very long winded way to say I am too lazy….hmm.)
a bus scenery scenery mountain river scenery to custom entrance
more downhill steep Is this safe FHWA so many water choices expensive Chilean Chinese Restaurant So bad…It always confuses everyone when they ask where I am from, and then see my passport. I am still one of the few (a relic, I am sure) that hold a UK overseas passport. It was the reason I was stuck behind many borders. When I was in Singapore, I went on a trip to Malaysia with the Chinese Orchestra. I was stuck behind both the Singaporean and Malaysian border. The whole orchestra had to wait approximately 3 hours. When I get to the US, I am a frequent visitor to the waiting room at the Border patrol From JFK to Canada, I was used to being detain every time I cross a border. So it was with some apprehension I started this trip, since I have to cross quite a few borders by bus and planes.
Around 9am, I ate my last breakfast at Mora Hostel in Mendoza. I will definitely miss the most awesome breakfast so far: omelets, crepes with Dulce del Leche, hard boiled eggs, coffee, cold milk, warm milk, orange juice, oranges, toast and croissants. It was beyond compare, except breakfast in Poland (which had included ham). I ate as much as I could, since I thought I would not be having lunch on a bus to Santiago. (Well, you know how cheap I am. You don’t? Have we met?) After eating a very “healthy” portion of breakfast and saying good bye to Ellie (who was enjoying some very fine tomato…long story), I walked to the bus station, boarded the correct bus, checked my bags, found my seat and sat with an uncomfortably full stomach wondering why I ate so much.
I have heard a great deal about how great the scenery is during the ride from Mendoza to Santiago, and so I kept myself awake. The bus was only 30% full, and everyone had a lot of space. I met a surfer from Newport Beach, and a Swiss working in Brazil. With nothing much to do, we all just sat around watching some pretty great Spanish music videos (which had a lot of dancing, love sick male, Shakira, and an unexplainable animations). An hour in, the driver switched over to American movies, and we all watched some weird shows I have never heard of. As we ascend the mountains, the views were majestic. I think you can see most of them from the photos above. I would highly recommend the bus trip. Oh, and they actually served lunch on the bus, which made me even more full.
Arriving at the Chilean border at Paso Paso Internacional Los Libertadores, we all got off the bus while our driver lined us up. Since the immigration building looks like a ski resort, it felt a lot like a ski instructor trying to bring us to a chair lift. The 17 of us went inside a border control office in a single file. It was slightly confusing, since we had to get an exit stamp from the Argentina side, and then step across to the other counter to get an entry stamp into Chile. Finishing that, we got back onto the bus…and then off the bus again as they took all our luggage onto the xray machine. We all waited while our luggage were checked, and a border agent came around and asked if we were carrying meat or/and fruits. In the end, we all got through with no problem, which was a relief. Once we boarded the bus again, we were served some form of dessert and coffee/tea. Having eaten so much, I sat bloated and just sat watching Dumb and Dumber II and watched the scenery.
We got into Santiago around 4:30pm, and I decided to withdraw some cash from the atm at the bus station. I tried to withdraw US$200 worth of pesos, but an alarmed sounded on the atm. I got some pesos, but no where close to what I am supposed to have received. Checking online, the bank charged me more than US$300, but only gave me $100 worth of pesos. No one in the bus station knew anything about the atm, and I finally had to give up and went looking for the subway. Luckily, subway was relatively easy to operate, and with Ellie’s BIP! Card, I got to the hostel without too much issue.
As I am typing this up, a group of English travelers in the mid 20s are obviously drunk and making a huge ruckus. It was the first time this trip I met travelers this drunk and obnoxious, even calling the front desk lady a bitch. I guess everything balances itself out: while I had an easy time crossing the border, I was “robbed” by an atm machine and am now surrounded by drunks who think they are awesome. (I wonder if I am that bad when I am drunk…) I am not sure which is worst: getting stuck in a room at the border, or losing money and dealing with drunks.
(No, I have never had a cavity search. Why would you even think that? What’s wrong with you?)
Back in 2000, I was a poor and naïve junior in Cornell University, studying Civil and Environmental Engineering. (Does that sound a little like the beginning of a fairy tale? Sadly, it is not.) A senior told me about this famous wine class in the Hotel School – the largest wine class in the east coast. All students got to try a few wines during lectures. Of course, it was an extremely popular class. It was only when I started MBA that I learned the importance of hooking your customers early. That was exactly the ploy used by cigarettes companies in the early 80s. I remembered learning a lot about wines, various regions and characteristics. I remembered studying wines from Argentina, and that the final consisted of 150 questions.
Being in Mendoza, I had to do the most touristy thing- do a wine tour of the local vineyards or bodegas. To be somewhat healthy, I chose to do the bike and wine tour. Not only did it allow me to see some of the surrounding areas, it also gave me an excuse to imbibe as much alcohol as possible. It’s really a win-win scenario. Around 9am, Ellie, Renato and I sat in the lobby and waited for the bus to pick us up. We started discussing Argentinian time, and debated what time the bus would eventually arrived. The board notice said 9am, the counter sign said 10am, but the front desk said it should be between 9:30am to 10am.
We were picked up at 10am and joined an already full bus. There were a couple from Australia, a few people from Brazil, a ballet instructor from England, a Japanese lady who worked in Landon, and a Swiss. We started chatting among ourselves, trying to gather as much information about the places they have been and we are going. It was interesting to hear how we are all traveling in different directions, but always stopping in the same few locations. At the same time, we all complained about our guidebooks (e.g, lonely planet!), and how to cross check hostel recommendations using internet. I was warned that internet is really bad in Bolivia. (So if I stop updating the blog, you know why…or I maybe dead somewhere, rotting away…)
I would not bore you with all the vineyards and what was explained (also, I was drinking a lot and could not remember much). Here are some key facts I do recall. Mendoza is in desert region, and they control flow of water strictly. This means each vineyard only have access to water for a limited time. However, the climate also allows for stable growth of the grapes, without as much variation in rainfall, insects and temperature changes. They used to use ice and giant fires to protect the grapes from frost. All wines that have been barreled for 12 years are called reserve. They export lots of wine to United States and Asia. Wine is cheap in Argentina, about ¾ of the price in US. The wine makers here are also trying to use more and more screw tops instead of cork. Sustainability is a big issue in the vineyards here, since temperature control is very important. We went to: Dante Robino, Norton (owned by Swaski), and Tapiz. They all have pretty amazing wines. Dante Robino has great sweet wine, Norton has really great prices, and Tapiz has an amazing white and light red for casual drinking.
Education and facts aside, we all had a roaring good time. They gave us lots of wine. Our fees included lunch, which was served in a vineyard with 2 bottles of wine per 5 people. As you can imagine, we all drank a lot. With wine comes friendship, and we all chatted happily about our home country. We all had a blast. After lunch, we rode the bike for about 8km (South America uses S.I. units! It was a welcome change from miles and yards. Why is US still on the old English system when England is using the S.I. unit???) We ended the tour with a group photo and returned to the hostel by bus. Ellie started asking Gem (the ballerina from England) about places she had been, and soon we were busy taking notes on hostels, tour companies, names and places.
Back in the hostel, we all split up and started to prepare our departures. Most of us are leaving tomorrow, at various times with different modes of transportation. It is a little strange – you run into a great group and then everyone is off on his/her own adventure. We all crossed path once, never quite sure if we will meet again. But I will always have the great memory of biking and enjoying wines in Mendoza in a sunny afternoon with a group of awesome people. Just like my memory of the wine class in Cornell: hazy, but generates a great feeling. And maybe with some knowledge that will come back to me at the weirdest time and places. And I am finally at a place where I learned about in a class 15 years ago. It took a little time (and a lot of money!), but slow and surely, I hope to get to see places which I have always wanted to. And if I am lucky, meet great people along the way to share the experiences.
plaza espanaparkwaterpeopleparkstatuemuseummountainspoolparkcentral park
In 2008, I attended my first Mariners game in Seattle, WA, USA. It was a great experience, as I had never been to a MLB (Major League Baseball) game in my life. I had been to a few minor games in the east coast, but to see a real major league game was quite an event. It was funny to see how they encourage spectators participations by playing songs, starting waves and cheer at different innings; and everyone actually joined in. I was not familiar with the song “Take me out to the ball game”, but slowly learned it along the way. Admittedly, I am not the biggest fan, nor do I know the rules and strategies well. However, I still get excited whenever Mariners wins a game. (Well, my heart belongs to the Sounders, but I am a supporter of Seahawks and Mariners too.) To commemorate the first experience (ahem), I bought a Mariners baseball cap. It had stayed with me ever since, and I used to wear it jogging in the rain/ice/snow.
Sundays in Argentina means almost all shops are closed and all families are in church or at home. I have realized that they take the day of rest pretty seriously here. Nothing much was open, especially before 11am. Having finished breakfast (that included omelet and pancake!), I signed up for a bike and wine tour for the next day. On asking the front desk what I should do today, he said “Err…how about walking around the town?”
Walking around the town, I eventually arrived at the Plaza Principal which commemorates the founding of the City. Being a Sunday, the museum was closed, but there were a few people flying kites around the park. I walked around, trying hard not to take photographs of kids in case people think I am a pedophile. I also made my way to the Central Park (no, not the one in NYC. Although that would have been nice since I could have gotten some Shake Shack burger!) I won’t bore you with the lecture on what the park is and why it was built. Feel free to google it. It is a very nice park, but what park can compare to Green Lake Park in Seattle?
On the way back, the sun started to really beat down on me and that was when I realized: I could not find my Mariners baseball cap. I try to think back when I last had it, but the memory was hazy. Was it at the restaurant I had the delicious hot chocolate with coffee? Or was it back in the hostel? I was quite upset at myself: 11 days into my trip and I was already losing things. I rushed back to the hostel, but the cap was nowhere to be found.
Feeling dejected, I just stayed in and researched Santiago de Chile online, trying to find a good place to stay. Eventually, I ventured out to get my bus ticket for Chile, and came back just in time for free wine hour. I started talking to this lady from England who is also going to do the Bike and Wine tour. As we got louder, another guy approached us about the tour, wondering if it is worth the time since he doesn’t drink. We managed to convince him, and decided to all go out for dinner to celebrate. We chatted a lot about our work and future travel plans. Turned out Emily from England was just in Santiago. In a generous gesture, she passed me her BIP! Pass for the subway in Santiago. I was genuinely touched. While it is not worth much, it was nice to receive a gift from a fellow traveler.
Of course, this being Argentina, we finally finished dinner at 11pm. I am now sitting in the main room typing up the events, while still smelling of grilled pork chop. I am still missing my favorite cap, along with all the memories associated with it. I guess that is part of life, everything comes and goes at its own time. (Well, or I should just start to keep track of my belongings more carefully.) On the bright side, at least I found some new friends along the way. Especially friends who will drink free wine and go to dinner at 10pm. More importantly, someone who is willing to give me a free subway pass…
I never claim to be a budget traveler. To me, a budget traveler is one who wants to spend as little as possible to see as much as feasible. I am certainly not in the wheel house, not even close. Certainly this attitude has become a little worse as I grow older. I still remember the days when I traverse the US by Greyhound, just amazed and happy I was seeing new things. Now, I complain about the seats, try to find rooms with private bathrooms, wanting to try expensive excursion tours. (The fun and thrill seeking ones are usually the most expensive – e.g., skydiving, heli-sking, sandboarding. The more danger there is, the higher the participation fee. Why?!) It is actually never a easy decision: I really want to extend my budget as much as possible, but I also want to try new experience (or have good night sleeps so I can actually enjoy the day activities).
Loads of people told me how great the luxury buses (I think they call it executive class) are in Argentina and Chile. I know I will definitely do it for my trip from Santiago to San Pedro de Atacama, as it is a very very long bus ride, but I want to try it on a shorter, cheaper route so I can assess the difference. I thought I did ok with cama class (which, after experiencing it, is more akin to economy plus class), but still slept really poorly. (Wow, that’s a lot of justification to spend 30 pesos more on a executive class seat…) So I bought a executive class seat from Cordoba to Mendoza. Not only was it a direct bus, it also promises 180 degree bed, food and tv. For someone who has never flown first class, and am too cheap to pay for economy plus, it is a big treat. (Also sad. How is it I have never been upgraded??)
I arrived at the bus station in Cordoba at 8pm for the 10:15pm bus, since I had to walk through a red light district. It went pretty ok, because I think most people who saw me with my backpack assumed I was too poor to take a taxi (that costs about 30 pesos). I was, however, slightly offended no one approached me for “service” offers. Afterall, as a student of economics, I am always interested in the current pricing schemes. With so much time to spare, I tried to order the daily special at the bus café, only to have a lot of Spanish threw at me. It was only when the order arrived that I discover the waiter had upgraded my special to the executive special – pork chops. To ensure money well spent, I just sat at the restaurant for 1.5 hours while charging my phone.
Boarding the bus, I was immediately impressed: leather seats, blankets, pillows, attendant, nice headset, and personal screen with movies, music, games choices. It was almost like being in the first class seating on a plane. The seats also reclines fully, with a leg rest so everyone can sleep horizontally (I wonder if there are some who prefers to sleep vertically??). It was the most luxurious bus I have been on. Interestingly, the clientele was a huge mix – families, businessmen, teenagers and kids.
W
hile watching the latest “Hobbit” installment, silverwares were distributed. Then, we were served a tray of food that included quiche, ham, cheese and pudding. Thinking it was dinner, I happily ate everything, only to discover it was only appetizer. The main course was vegetables and pork – delivered steaming hot. I ate so much and was totally stuffed (Again, refraining from 6th grader joke here.).
After dinner, the attendant came asking if we want breakfast (err…if course!), how we want ur coffee, and turned down the lights. I have to say, while it was nice to have such a comfortable seating, sleeping on the bus was still very bumpy. Breakfast was 2 different types of biscuits, coffee/tea. The attendant even came around and gently woke everyone up.
Arriving early in Mendoza, I decided to walk to my new hostel – Mora Hostel. As with Cordoba, the neighborhood around the bus station is a little rough (someone should really do a study on that). For the first time in Argentina, I was harassed by a few people, whistling into my face and/or blocking my path. Too tired to care, I just walk by them, but it definitely left bad taste in my mouth (Heh. I wonder how many got this joke. There were days when Shane and I sent this type of emails for hours on end.) The hostel is nice, except the showers and bathroom are shared. (Something I am slowly getting used to after living alone for more than 10 years.)
Mendoza, located on the eastern side of the Andes, is famous for its wine and olive oil. In fact, quite a few of my friends know of Mendoza because they have drunk wine from here. In 1861, a huge earthquake destroyed most of the town, and it was rebuilt with huge squares and large streets (for seismic concerns), which gave it a modern city appeal. One thing that is special: there are huge canals along the side of the roads and streets for irrigation purposes, and diverts snow melt from the Andes into the streets and vineyards. I visit the San Martin Park, the Independence Plaza and Plaza Espana. The open concepts, along with many many trees, make this a really beautiful and enticing city.
The rest of the day was spent looking for essentials, since this is Saturday. Also, there is siesta from 1pm to 5pm, which also makes finding things interest.
As I was sitting typing this up in the hostel, a group of US students from Santiago and some other hostel members just came back from a night horse ride. I am sure it was a great time, since they are chatting up a storm. It also surprised me how much this group of students were willing to spend so much money on all these activities. I guess the idea of whether somethings are luxury vs. basic sometimes depends on who is footing the bill… For someone who had saved up his own money for a trip, I want it to be spent on new experiences and maybe a little comfort. I wince every time someone tells me how cheap traveling across Argentina is, since it took me a long time to get here. I wonder If every penny you spent was from blood and sweat, will the money be spent more efficiently?
(Well, then again, I have been known to buy shots and lots of drinks. I don’t quite have a high ground to stand on…Maybe I am just too old for the party hostel. It’s ok, we all get old. Well, yes, there are exceptions…)
Most people know me to be a mild manner engineer. (Again, this is my blog and I can portray myself as I see fit!) This was especially true when I first started working in the US. I mean, not only were I a newbie, I was also under the ever present threat of work visas. First it was Optional Training Visa for one year. Then the company has to apply the H-1B work visa for you. Finally, you have to go through the greencard process – LC, I485, I295, etc. It is a non-stop cycle of being worried for your job, since your presence in the country is tied to work visas. One wrong move, and you are out. I became the most agreeable engineer possible: Work weekends? No problem. Do extra work? Sure. Sell my first born? Well, none yet, but I can start right away!
I decided to leave Cordoba after 3 days to head to Mendoza. Known as the Napa Valley of Argentina, I have heard great things about it. But to tell the truth, I am there because I have been told the bus ride from Mendoza to Santiago, Chile has some of the best sceneries. (Come on, wine tasting, good scenery, who can resist?). In addition, I decided to splurge a little and take the First Class seats on an overnight bus, in the hope of experiencing some luxury while saving money on hostel. How will this work out? From my experience, usually poorly. (But I like to pretend I am a hard core traveler. In truth, I’d like nothing more than a nice comfortable bed, private bathroom, personal service, air condition, and good food.)
So I packed my backs, left the hostel in search of things to do, I came across Museo Historico – Provincial Marques de Sobre Monte. From what I understood, it is an old house that belonged to a rich family in 1783 to 1796. The attendant told me it was 10 pesos to enter, which I happily paid. For some reason, (and I am pretty sure he knew I speak no Spanish), he started a 15 minutes explanation on how to tour the museum. He started drawing crosses, arrows, directions and numbers on the floor plan, and at one point pulled out (I really should refrain from making a 5th grader joke here) a sheet with the word pomegranate written in 10 languages. I do the only thing I can do, nodding along saying “Si”. At one point, I think I said “que?”. He ignored me completely, but not before taking my backpack and camera for storage. So I wandered the old big house using maps and trying to ponder what the arrows and crosses meant. I finally figure out the big tree in the center courtyard is a pomegranate tree (because all tourists want to know exactly what tree grows in the courtyard?). Luckily, there were a few exhibits with English explanations, so I happily continued the treasure hunt with the map.
Feeling accomplished, I went for lunch, opting for some steak. As usual, it was a game of charades, poor Spanish, and one word answers: Si, No, No? Si? Thankfully, I got my meal without too much issue. I pulled out (Heh) a book to read while eating, and noticed that the family seated across kept trying to read the cover. I wasn’t quite sure why, except the cover is in English. Maybe they were trying to learn some English?
As a professional tourist (i.e., unemployed), there is one great advantage in my schedule: I can pretty much do anything I want for as along as I want (well, unless money runs out). So the rest of the afternoon was spent in a café drinking coffee with vanilla ice-cream and typing up this blog. It was great doing nothing in the afternoon, enjoying the sun shine in a foreign land. Life would be great if Hulu and Netflix work here!
As I sat typing this, the waiters came by and asked if everything is ok. Well, at least that’s what I think he said, since I said Si and he left. It is funny how as our work experiences grow; we started to feel more confident in our abilities- enough to start saying no. Looking back, I really would have liked to say no to a lot more things. I spent a lot of time saying yes because it felt like the right thing to do (well, and immigration process didn’t help). Maybe I can use to trip to practice the art of saying no.
Wait; why did the waiter bring me another ice coffee?? I really need to say no more often…
There is a popular saying: the writing is on the wall (which is a bible reference, by the way. This is why I always feel learning a language is ofteb difficult: it is not only about grammar, but also about cultural references, sayings, idioms, etc.). I have never really written anything permanent on a wall, but that’s also because I have been told that it is a crime to vandalize properties. During this trip, I learned about the movement to legitimize graffiti art from a few graffiti art tours. It is an interesting concept: to try to move public opinion on an action that used to be viewed as destroying properties to treasure them as art instead. Artists now spent days to paint a wall with original concepts, and usually with the blessing of the owners. Cities are slowly starting to recognize the beauties of graffiti, instead of the uniformed cookie cutter (man, so hungry for cookies) buildings we have come to know and love. 
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