Chilling out in Cordoba

Cordoba´s slightly off the tourist trail. It doesn´t have the stunning
scenery of Argentina´s more popular resorts and some parts of town definitely felt quite sketchy in the early hours of the morning. But what it did provide was a chance to see Argentinians at work and play in their natural environment.

First impressions weren´t great. By a rather unimpressive bit of map reading I managed to wander around town completely bypassing the historical pedestrianised bit. Looking for the town´s well regarded colonial architecture I instead turned up a series of car-fume filled streets, brutalistic cement-constructed tower blocks and some pretty run down shops.

A shower and change of clothes later things improved. Taking the other direction from the main central square turned up the university area with tree lined avenues, old churches and plenty of cool little cafes to munch some lunch and let the world pass by.

Oh and one more thing jumped out. A large image of the Union Jack with a Swastika at its centre!!! A bunch of ex-army officers were running a stall demanding the return of Las Malvinas (the Falkland Islands). The only other time they had come up in conversation was on a previous trip when the taxi driver went near rabid. He´d had two brothers injured in the conflict - but was quick to point out he had nothing against the Brits - only the ex Argentiain leaders who´d entered into an unnecessary conflict to boot their popularity only for their efforts to spectacularly backfire. Their failure ultimately ending the country´s unpopular military regime and returning democracy.

Well in this case the feelings towards the UK were a lot less equivocal. Banners proclaimed that while the US was the muscle it´s still Britain that rules the world. And apparantly we have further ambitions in Argentina that must be thwarted. I furtively grabbed a couple of photos and quickly moved on.

And that´s basically what there´s to do in town. Suited me pretty well as I wanted to get some last minute revision in before going forward onto Mendoza. The banks are also usefully all based together which aids the cash machine shuffle... for reasons I can´t explain withdrawels on foreign cards are limited to about 40 pounds (300 pesos) except for one bank which allows you to withdraw another couple of pounds (320 pesos). So when checking into a new hostel it means having to take cash from about 3 different banks until you have enough. Each time stressing that the machine will eat the card and leave you reliant on western union transfers from home. Matters weren´t helped by my mistaken belief that I´d lost one of my cards - which I then cancelled only to discover I´d hidden it in my washing bag. grrrr

Hostel I was staying was being run by a bunch of young Americans most of the time who were friendly but not really the best guides to the city. So one night headed out with a 26yr old Irish guy I´d met there in search of la marcha.

Went to a bar around the corner and got chatting to a group of Argentinians at the next table - all in their 30s. Asked which was the best club to go to if ´they only had one night left in the city´- the answer Zuna - sin duda es el mejor este noche.

A taxi ride later we´re outside an impressive looking entrance with electro music pounding into the street and what seemed to be a young looking crowd. Were we too old to get in? It seemed not, after a short wait we were waved in.

It very quickly became apparant apart from us the maximum age seemed to be 17yrs old. Makes you wonder exactlly what the Argetinian would want to get up to on his last night! But the music was good, the crowd friendly and didn´t stumble back until around 5am

Quick bit of added info on the hostel for anyone using this to plan a trip - I was at
Hostel Morada, Humberto Primo 532 tel 0351-4262238, moradahostel@hotmail.com). Nice but pretty quiet, slightly run down and no great buzz to the place. The upstairs terrace was being renovated so might be more fun in other times - but if you´re thinking of staying in town hostel Baluch looked more fun and has a much better location in Nueva Cordoba where most of the nightlife is. Plus Morada was the only hostel I´ve stayed at to charge a fee for guarding bags after check out. V cheeky.

And that´s Cordoba. A decent pit stop - and a chance to improve the language skills - but really only worth a few days unless you intend to study there

Still to come...

OK - am ridiculously behind with this but will update when I next can (about to miss my bus now...) including a rather odd night clubbing it in Cordoba, Beauty pageants and a cast of 500 at the wine festival, Force 5 rapids and a skydive over Mendoza, and mountainbiking and treks to a black glacier in Bariloche

This travelling thing is high octane stuff...

Salta - Sun, Salt (lots of it) and Killer Spiders

Currently writing this in Chile having just crossed the border. Have a couple of hours to kill before I catch my connecting bus and figured the blog was well overdue an update....

So second stop on the tour - Salta - and a very different feel from the capital.
It´s way up in the north of the country and has emerged as a key stopping off point for travellers coming to and from Bolivia. The place has the feel of a slightly run down chaotic Oaxaca (in Mexico) with some bright coloured colonial buildings and the mountains peeking out from the end of the streets.

The main shopping streets are pedestrianised and throng with locals, only calming down for the long afternoon siesta.
Cafes line the central square where you can knock back a few chopps of Quilmes while waiting for the summer sun to soften its rays.

Or you can go wandering the streets in search of one of the many street vendors filling the air with the scent of freshly made popcorn
- their stalls imploring you to let Jesus into your life.

The city´s most famous for being the starting point for El Tren A Las Nubes - one of the world´s classic train journeys - passing through the clouds on huge aquaducts into the north west of the country. Massively impressive on a technical level the huge cost involved in its creatin is impossible to justify as it only links the city to a series of dustball towns before coming to an end in the Andes. It was my original reason for coming to the town. So it was a bit unfortunate it was out of service.

The reason depended on who you spoke to. It was closed because this is the rainy season. Because the company running it was facing financial problems. Because it needed work. But no worries - the city´s entrepid tour operators all run excursions along its route.

So every week hundreds of tourists pile into small minivans and hurtle along mountain roads alongside a temporarily defunct railway that doesn´t go anywhere special. Bizarre. But there are some great views en route - and there´s no other way you´d be allowed to go running over the railway bridges doing your best to ignore vertigo and the temptation to leap far below into the dry river valleys running below.

It´s a long days journey. Leaving the hostel (which arranged all the tours) at around 7.30ish and not getting back around 9ish. Luckily you´re not just looking at railway tracks all day. In fact after a few hours we seemed to lose track of the track and made our own way through the landscape. And it varies hugely. One minute we were going through barren land, flat and featureless apart from the odd group of woolly llama picking their way across the territory. After a while we´d stumble across a village - if that word covers a small assortment of decript buildings and a cow. Though it might not look it this part of the Jujuy province is actually economically active with mines dotting the area rich in minerals and metals. But you´d be hard pushed to see where the money´s goes in these small settlements belonging to farmers who eke out a more basic existence.

Then all of a sudden the land pulls a whitey. Huge expanses of dried salt - all that remains of what used to be a sea. So bright it dazzles the eyes - stretching to the horizon in all directions. In the middle sits a group of craftsmen sitting in the middle of a now defunct restuarant made of salt, carving chess pieces and other sculptures out of salt. Though chemically identical to what you get served with your meal here the substance has been compressed to become stone hard. Walking on it is weird. It feels very cool and rough to the touch - but alongside the workers a few shallow pools have been carved out and filled with water into which we were able to dip our feet - which were then encrusted in the substance once they quickly dried out in the overhead sun.

Then we shot up to heights of around 4000 metres before heading to a village where I went hiking into the hills for an hour with an Argentinian girl from the group while the others stayed behind to enjoy the less strenuous activity of eating icecream in the shade. Finally we made our return passing through a rainforest slowing down to allow random assortments of cows and horses to make room as they chewed on the grass alonside the track.

Second day in town and another tour - this time to the south - this time passing through huge catcus filled landscapes - looking as if they were a massive army prepared for attack. "Don´t pick up any stones" - warned the guide. The reason - this is home to a huge colony of black widow spiders. One of which we got to get right up close to. Centimetres away it was slowly dissecting a wasp caught in it´s web. A tiny creature capable of killing a horse in minutes - or a tour group of over inquisitive gringos.

Lots more to fill the day including mulicoloured moutains, their soil stained by an assortment of minerals, a HUGE lunch in the mountains of marinated goat cheese and roasted meats, stunning views across deep valleys - home to condors (though they proved a bit shy), a climb thousands of metres above sea level to a tiny graveyard which nearly pushed some of us over the limit - and the chance to chill in Chachi´s beautiful town square.

As ever tours like these are also a great chance to meet other travellers. There were quite a few Argentinians about (the devaluation of their currency makes it v hard to travel abroad) and by this point my Spanish was good enough to understand the guide´s stories in Spanish. I also got friendly with an Italian from Milan whose company had recently been bought by Oracle, had cashed in his share options and was now spending the fruits on a S American tour. A great guy and drinking companion in the evenings.

Could go on for ages but going to limit this as am getting typed out!

So a few other observations - As you might guess travelling on these trips meant long days. So how did the drivers manage to keep alert day after day? The secret - cocaine!!!

Shops in the city centre openly advertise the sale of Coca and Bici. That´s the leaves from the Coca plant which produce the nose-candy and bicarbonate of soda which they are chewed with to release the drug. Of course it´s in far smaller quantities than that found in the powder. But the legal status of the substance is a bit ill defined. While it´s easy to buy police searches on buses in and out of the city can see it confiscated and don´t even think about trying to take it through the airports. It seems that any huge stash of the leaves will incur a police crackdown and jail time - but small quantities for personal use in the area are fine.

Hostal wise I stayed at Backpackers central (c/Buenos Aires 930, p. +54 387 4235 910, bktravel@backpackerssalta.com - booked on hostelworld.com) About a 20min walk from town but a great set up. The group owns 3 hostals in town and most evenings hosts an asado (bbq) at our building on the roof bar with loads of salad and the chance to mix with others. Then at about 11pm they get everyone together to explore the nightlife. Private room had a huge bed and loads of hot water as well.

It´s also worth leaving time to explore the town itself.
The place is overrun with schoolgirls (though bizarrely v few boys) but once you get beyond the central square things calm down to allow a pleasant walk along treelined parks - while a cable car let´s you rise high above to look down on Salta and realise it´s a lot bigger than it feels when exploring by foot. However one day is enough.

It had been my original plan to spend another night and tour Cafayte´s rock formations and wineries. But while the past few days had been loads of fun I wanted to get out and about more rather than sitting most of the day in a minibus - however good the views. Plan A had been to take the bus down to Tucuman - from where Argentinia´s independence had been declared. But all the Argentinians I´d met said Cordoba was a lot more fun - so after booking the first of my overnight Cama bus tickets I was heading south to Argentina´s second biggest city and its university capital...

BsAs revisted

Back in the land where the moon´s face is upside down, the water goes the other way down the sink, summer is both hot and the rainy season and the nightlife only gets going around 2am. It´s great to be back.

The journey over was pretty stress free. Flying with the Brazilian airline TAM which was on time, half empty (so plenty of room to stretch out) and was sat next to a Porteña who´s been living in London the past few years so had good conversation as well - and a good omen of how easy it is to start random conversations with strangers when travelling solo. Connection via Sao Paulo and a few hours killing time in the airport amusing myself repeatedly listening to Arcade Fire singing `Brazil´ on the iPod before finally arriving in Buenos Aires.

From first glimpse through the plane window to the ride in the taxi to the hostel the sense of excitement mounted. The driver also gave me the chance to put my very rusty Spanish to use - and gave me my first insight into what´s happened to the economy since I was last here. Although the exchange rate seems better than it was (around 6 point something pesos to the pound) he told me that inflation has been running at a scary rate - so the money buys less. The days of buying a huge steak, chips, glass of wine and dessert for less tha 2 pounds may be over - but it´s still pretty cheap - especially by London standards. I reckon about half to a third of the price depending on what you buy which makes everything seem a bargain.

Anyway lugged my bulging suitcase (containing around 16 books!!!) into the hostel - Palermo House - and was greeted by friendly staff who apologised for the fact my room wasn´t ready as the current tenants hadn´t checked out on time and had disàppeared. No problem as I dumped the bag behind the desk, grabbed a quick shower and headed out to re-explore.

Exciting and slightly weird to be wandering around Plaza Serrano´s bars and boutiques. Lots of ghosts of memories from the past trip - and for the first couple of days I was quite happy to immerse myself amongst them and not make a huge effort to meet other travellers - plenty of time for that later. Instead lots of walking, photo taking and enjoying all the city´s quirkiness.

Buenos Aires doesn´t have the same show-stopping tourist sites like London, Paris or many of the other World´s great capitals. But what it may lack in must-see attractions it more than makes up for in character. The odd bit of stencilled graffiti, the plaque in the road marking the home of one of the desaparacidos - left wingers who ´disappeared´- murdered by the right wing government, dog walkers marching small armies of four-footed perros of varying sizes along the streets (or in one case simply taking them to the park and then taking a long sleep), weather faced men pulling carts full of rubbish along the roads and the huge number of one-off shops. The lack of many big chains makes window shopping a real pleasure with some great interior design shops making buying a flat in the city a real temptation. Within hours I had that feeling again - this would be a very easy city to live in.

Over the next 48hrs I spent a small fortune on new Spanish music (including the excellent recording of Sabina and Serrat´s concert), chomped down on some juicy steak and morcilla (blood sausage) and slurped up some of the world´s best ice-cream. Lots of artesanial heladeria´s which have perfected the art of Italain style ices. For anyone intending to visit a trip to Altra Volta on Avenida del Libertador 3060 for their orange flavour is a must!!!

http://www.unaltravolta.com.ar/

Walks lasted up to 5 hours and included a trip to Recoleta´s cemetary - something I´d missed out on before. Tomb after impressive tomb sandwiched together into a patch of land no bigger than the average city block. Once upon a time it was open to all - now buying a plot costs around 20-thousand dollars and that´s before the tenants-to-be´s familines invest in hugely ornate marble structures, decorated with angels and other figures. All this with stray cats slinking along the corridoes and tombs falling into disrepair cramped next to new minimalist designs. Evita´s buried somewhere in here although I didn´t spot her tomb. Atmospheric and slightly bizarre with huge city blocks poking above the walls around the cemetary´s edges. Half an hour was enough before the need to get back onto the city´s wide open lanes became overwhelming.

These days were the perfect detox from recent London life and left me eager to re-engage again and chat to other travellers. I´d picked the hostel as reviews on the internet suggested it was an easy place to meet other mochilladors (backpackers) and the posts proved accurate. The hostel has a huge living area with an open air balcony. Getting to know others is as easy as plonking yourself down next to a group, introducing yourself and swapping travellers´ tips. Really one of the best bits of travel. Many of the residents were staying at the hostel for extended stays - often for months at a time. That meant many stay in to eat but on my last night I headed out for dinner (finally a salad after all the meat) with two girls from the hostel. Tanya from Germany and Kavita from Australia. Then onto Green Bamboo (a fave from last time) for cocktails before back to the hostel.

Then one of the highlights of the trip so far. Tanya headed to bed but Kavita and I had one of those crazy rambling conversations that took in everything from past relationships to favourite books via innumerable other topics - each ricocheting into something else. It was after 6am before we were all talked out and ready to pass out. Except of course I had to pack and be ready to leave at 8am for the next bit of the trip.

Other memories of the four days -
Waking up to realise I´d been bitten on the eyelid by a mosquito and it had begun to swell. Reminded of looking like the elephant man when something similar happened in Mexico - the solution is to hold an ice cube on the spot to remove the swelling. Which in this case meant nearly freezing the eyeball beneath. yuck!

Standing on the street corner with the rest of the street watching a policeman chase a young thief up and down the road until he finally caught him

Noticing a big reduction in the number of locutorios (places where people go to make telephone calls) and internet salons. An effect of the rise of the mobile and the huge number of travellers who stick a laptop in their backpack.

Being one of many tourists to turn a group of riot police into a photo opportunity as they monitored one of the city´s many protest rallies next to the Casa Roja on the main square.

A major rainstorm that shut down the city and led to traffic jams all over once the clouds started to clear - everyone hooting hard but not getting anywhere fast.

Knocking back litres of Quilmes on Plaza Serrano, not-so-slowly getting sunburnt whilst developing a happy beer buzz.

Learning to look again with a soundtrack of Bajofondo Club´s electrotango, Amy Winehouse and Jack Johnson playing through my earphones.

All sheer bliss and I could have quite easily spent all five weeks in the city - but this had always been meant to be just a chance to acclimatise to being back in Latin America. The real adventure would start with new places and Salta...

(PS one tip - don´t bother buying a guide book before coming. Time Out have an excellent up to date half-yearly magazine on sale from all the city´s magazine stalls with all the best places to eat,drink and visit)