Epilogue

Wow. Well. We’ve been back in NM for 10-11 days now. It feels as though I just left the last days hanging and the end of the trip, er un-ended. Could be that I didn’t want it to end. Once I got in the groove after my moment of panic I didn’t look back. Or forward, really, except to find the next place to stay. I was content to be in the space, place, and time in which I was. I was going to write “… in which I found myself.” It’s the “found myself” part that stopped me. In one sense it refers to the literal sense of the locale and time period in which you are. In the more abstract, one might even say ‘woo-woo’ sense, it refers to the realization of coming to terms with who you are. Funny, as I write this, I accept both as being true to my experience.

As if you care a jot.

I last posted about the Iguazu Falls. I still get a tingle up my spine when I recall the power and majesty and mist of being so close to the immensity of that natural wonder.

I wrote a bit about the journey from Puerto Iguazu to Santa Fe, but not about Santa Fe. However, Charlie did, so I’ll just add a few of my impressions. It was comfortable. Small enough to not feel overwhelmed. Large enough to have the amenities you want: good food, good drink, banks, nice places to walk. There was one museum that looked interesting, but we missed it. When discovered, it was closed and closed the next day, our last, as well.

We did find this Main Street with a central tree lined median. I was enthralled with the shape of these trees. They also look quite threatening with large knobby bits that have a pointy thorns sticking out of them. Yet, they have a delicate flower. 20190311_072849

At this restaurant we found an alternative to the usual offerings: Tacos! The soft flour tortillas held copious amounts of shredded beef, perfectly seasoned. With the traditional condiments of guacamole, pico de gallo, and sour cream, we enjoyed a small taste of home. We also liked this artwork.

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One cold, drizzly afternoon we sat in the hotel lounge warming ourselves with a whiskey. It was comforting and cozy to sit in the window reading, and pausing periodically to watch the passers-by.

Returning to BsAs went smoothly once our 45 minute late bus arrived. That was an unusual occurrence in our experience thus far. Buses were generally spot on or not more than 5-10 minutes off. Charlie was about ready to book another bus. Cooler heads prevailed.

Being back in BsAs felt good. We stayed in Recoleta barrio, more upscale than San Telmo, so cleaner, but also lacking a certain distinctive ambiance. After staying in a series of smaller cities, the hum and rush of a large one was energizing. The recognition that these were to be our last days in Argentina lent a nostalgic feeling for all I was leaving behind; for all of the spaces we had stayed; for all of the people we had met, connected with, and then parted from.

Attending Rigoletto at the Teatro Colón on our last night provided us with the best farewell I could have wished for. Here is a photo from Google Images.

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Here are my photos of the theatre.

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Yes. We were pretty high up. When we purchased the tickets on-line they looked like good seats; not nearly so elevated. A combination of their website and using a cell phone misled us. Still, while quite a distance from the stage, the sound was not affected. I have a renewed appreciation for opera and will endeavor to attend more – but only in these beautiful old buildings specifically made for that art form.

I’m thankful to be back home. I’m full of gratitutde for the time away.

Las Cataratas

Here are a few random thoughts I had on our first night, March 6, in Puerto Iguazú:

Our travel day to Iguazú Falls was rainy with low-slung clouds washing the sky in shades of grey. The earth responded with shouts of color as the red of the iron rich earth and the brilliant green of rain-slick plants livened the scene.

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We passed shacks, nothing more than boards put together as 4 walls and a roof; a family (?) of 12 or so outside of one, fires burning, clothes hanging on the line.

We witnessed the vastness of the forest, the hills, the trees stretching far into the distance.

About air bnbs: the paucity of accoutrements, yet how much, what can be done with them and how in the end you had just what you needed – at least for the limited time staying there.

Thinking about England, maybe NYC, too and other places, post WWII. Families of 5-12 living in 1 or 2 room flats; barely a kitchen; bathroom outside and down the way, shared by numerous other families. It’s a wonder more didn’t die of TB or cholera or flu or any other possible rampant illness that could spread or be incurred through less than hygienic conditions. And now, we – USA we – have gone in the other direction. So fearful of bacteria that our own systems do not have the opportunity to develop immunities as bacteria have grown immune to our barrage of poisons and chemicals (antibiotics) to eradicate them, or at the very least, to severely limit our exposure. (This as part of my reflection on living in 2 rooms, for the most part these past two months. The two rooms being bedroom and living area; there is also a small kitchen area and a bathroom, so technically 4 rooms, though the actual living space is two rooms.) 

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And now it is March 11 as I write this. We are in Santa Fe! We haven’t posted in days. Why? Iguazú Falls took all of our energy on the first day. We arrived early and stayed until closing. We walked miles and miles of trails to see the as many of the hundreds of falls as we could. We got soaked on the boat ride on the river and into the falls. Oh my, what a hoot, that was!! Drenched. The boat pilots know just how to angle the nose of the boat in between shattering walls of water. As we were up front we got hit with it but good. Breathless, invigorating, joyful.

Notice that boat on the river below? That’s the type of boat we were on, heading into the falls!

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A light rain began as we were making our way to La Garganta del Diablo, the Devil’s Throat, the very large horseshoe falls. It soon turned into torrential rains, made more soak inducing by the wind that blew in sideways, and swirled around making it impossible to escape. As it was pretty warm out I eschewed the use of poncho and just got wet. At the overlook to the Garganta del Diablo, the mist pushed up from every which way. It was not a good day to see the Garganta due to the clouds and rain, but it was an exhilarating day to be there.

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Fortunately, weather cooperated the next day. We returned early and beat a hasty advance directly to the Garganta. We could tell it was going to be a busy day at the park. We arrived at the entry point to the path just after a train pulled in carrying about 200 people all headed to the same place we were. We opted to again walk as fast as we could and pass as many as we could to get there, ahead of as many as possible. I’m happy to report that we were successful in this endeavor. Of course there were still lots of folks there, but not as many as there was about to be. It was worth the rush and I almost don’t feel sorry for any number of people I had to push aside to get there. Carpe diem.

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As we left it apeared that there were close to a thousand people along the walk lining up for their view. I wonder how many cell phones have gone into the falls as people bump and push for the limited space.

There is a point in Puerto Iguazú from which you can see Brazil (on the right) and Paraguay (on the left). We made our way there that afternoon. I don’t think there are too many places in the world where you can be standing in one country and see two more. Sarah Palin would have a field day.

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How quickly the rains come and go. Above you see two countries under cloudy skies. In no time a’tall, this was the view:

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I gained a new appreciation for the phrase, “When it rains, it pours,” while in Puerto Iguazú. 

It took some travel to get from Iguazú to Santa Fe. The first leg was on the Crucero del Norte bus and took seven hours as it stopped at every little town, and picking up and dropping off people along the road at bus stands or sometimes just a wide spot. I wonder how those who live along the road, in an unincorporated area know when the bus will be by. They stand there with bags and babies and children by the hand and flag down the bus. It’s one of the mysteries for foreigners. After a four hour lay-over, we boarded Rio Uruguay for the 13 hour over-night to Santa Fe. These butacas were even better than the ones on Andesmar. The seats reclined 180 and the foot rest came up level with the seat for a fine flat bed. A full size pillow and blanket made for a comfortable rest.

Goodness, it’s already March 12! I don’t understand why this computer has trouble saving and uploading photos sometimes, but that is always my delay. But now we are in BsAs, it will be easier and I will post again tomorrow. Right now I’m falling asleep.

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Best love, Paula

 

 

Iguazu Falls

It has been reported that Elinor Roosevelt exclaimed upon her first visit to Iguazu falls: “poor Niagara!”

The falls border Argentina and Brazil, where an inconceivable amount of water flow from the upper and lower Iguazu River. When more inconceivable is that there falls have gone dry twice in the last fifty years.

There is no possible way to capture the magnificence of these “cataracas” in photographs, particularly with a cell phone. Here are some feeble attempts.

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We were unable to visit the Brazilian side of the falls for a more panoramic view sure to the high cost and time required to get a visa. Form Brazil it would be apparent that the Niagara horseshoe falls pale by comparison.

Santa Fe

Santa Fe is the capital of Santa Fe province, the location where the first national constitution was ratified (1853) as was the first Alfajor (the Argentine national cookie) was created (1861). It is the 9th largest city in Argentina with a population of 500K as of 1010. It is hard to tell whether the city’s best days are behind or ahead.

Santa Fe was founded in 1651 near the confluence of several rivers: Rio Parana, Rio Salado, and Rio Santa Fe. Traces of it colonial past remain and it appears considerable effort is being expended to reverse the inertia of decay. Refurbishing of some colonial structures is underway and tall modern apartments are under construction. Yet the beaches on both sides of the river, which have turned to weeds and layers of trash, serve mostly as fishing spots. The Costanera (promenades) remain undeveloped.

We are staying in a old hotel on the major commercial street highlighted by a peatonal (pedestrian walk way) lined with high end clothing stores, cafes, and collapsing buildings. It is fairly quiet, though that may have a lot to do with our tendency to arrive on a Sunday when many businesses, museums, offices, etc. are closed.

We have enjoyed our stay here, given the closures, walking the various neighborhoods and imagining the city as it once was. Many of the old facades retain their elaborate ornamentation.

Here is an old grain storage silo complex that has been restored to a modern luxury hotel and Casino. The rooms are round, we hear. We tried to take an elevator to the rooftop deck, but after going to the second floor could go neither up nor down and had to take the emergency exit to get back to the ground floor. Security met us at the base and gave us pretty clear directions about how to leave the property.

An old suspension bridge is still used, though a modern multi-lane concrete structure is immediately adjacent. We walked across to the east side of the river and had lunch in a restaurant that had an enormous menu but would only take orders for a handful of options.

The Costanera provides a gathering spot for families and fisherpersons, though none are apparent in these photos.

The Plaza 25 de Mayo has been in use since the 16th century, and some of the buildings, including the Iglesia de Compania, date to the 17th century.

We are in Santa Fe as an intermediate stop on our return home. We arrived yesterday morning after nearly 24 hours traveling from Puerto Iguazu, our farthest destination from Buenos Aires. Tomorrow we take a seven hour bus ride to BsAs where we have only three items on our agenda: buy clothes suitable for the opera, attend an opera at Teatro Colon, and catch our flight on Thursday evening.

Paula and I will be spending some time in the next three days catching up on our blogs and sharing some of our experiences for the last weeks. We have fallen way behind.

Charlie

Carnival!

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Before I get into the post, I ask your forgiveness for these less than crisp photos. It was a challenge to capture images from the stands, under bright lights, at night, and while performers were walking and dancing along the parade route.

We attended on Saturday night, looking forward to arriving early to avoid the long lines of cars trying to get in from the one road that went by the Corsódromo. Tickets indicated that doors opened at 6; show to begin at 9. We figured we’d arrive around 6:30 and have time to tour the grounds, imagining that there would be food and craft vendors (not). Our taxi driver said that 6:30 arrival was early; he also recommended that since we’d be there early, there was a good chance that we could get a close up view of the participants in all of their fine regalia and of the floats. Don’t be intimidated, he said. Just tell them you’re from the US.

Upon arrival at the gate, we were turned away and not only that, but told gates would not open until 8:45! After conferring with our taxista, we had him take us to a mall to hang out whilst time passed. An hour passed fairly quickly and uneventfully. Then we stopped to look at wine in one of the carts that line mall concourses. I had a delightful conversation in Spanish with one vendor, while Charlie and the other vendor conversed in English. Gustavo told me that it would be a good idea to eat before going to Carnival to avoid the long lines there and recommended a place at the mall called Sherwood. It had the best cuts of beef, cooked to perfection, and very generous, too generous portions.

By now of course, we are arriving late to carnival and we do get stuck in traffic, but it moved fairly quickly.

We should have bought our tickets on-line as the best stand locations were sold out. We bought Preferential tickets, but were still a ways down the concourse. The performers had steely stamina, though and provided a good show for the entire length of the route, which was between a quarter to a half mile long. The energy of the evening was electric from the folks watching, to the performers. The music blared, and repeated throughout the long night, though periodically some comparsa would inject something different. At times, the music was live, with musicians and singers on a float, their stage high above the crowd. I don’t have a photo of that, but below are a few more photos to provide an ideal of te flash, the creativity, and the beauty of the costumes.

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We stayed until the end at around 6 in the morning, and joined the crowd in walking to the main drag. Many were taking the buses – they went by, just packed and sounding like the party was continuing. We walked about a mile, passing many others trying to get a cab, before we could procure one. It was a beautiful walk, watching the sky lighten, and it felt good to stretch the legs after dancing on the bleachers all night.

Remember I mentioned a foam spray that was so popular at the Fiesta de Queso in Tafí? It’s called nieve, really does look like snow, and was in abundance here, too. Kids have such a good time trying to spray one another down as much as possible. Others just spray it up into air.

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Arrived home (so many homes in the past few months and 3 more to come!) around 7, had yogurt and fruit, brushed my teeth, and headed to bed for a several hours.

I awoke yesterday morning feeling lethargic and with an upset stomach. It lasted all day, into the night, and is hanging on today. Last night I couldn’t do anything but listen to a book on Audible and go to bed early. Hence the lateness of this post.

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All the costumes are hand made, hand stitched; some by the participant and some pay to have it made. A comparsa is a troupe or a club; members decide together on the theme for the year. People have their favorite comparsas, the one they think is best. We heard that the best ones come at the end, but, I don’t know that I have the ability to discern. They were all, with maybe one or two exceptions, over-the-top brilliant.

Carnival!

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Before I get into the post, I ask your forgiveness for these less than crisp photos. It was a challenge to capture images from the stands, under bright lights, at night, and while performers were walking and dancing along the parade route.

We attended on Saturday night (2 March), looking forward to arriving early to avoid the long lines of cars trying to get in from the one road that went by the Corsódromo. Tickets indicated that doors opened at 6; show to begin at 9. We figured we’d arrive around 6:30 and have time to tour the grounds, imagining that there would be food and craft vendors (not). Our taxi driver said that 6:30 arrival was early; he also recommended that since we’d be there early, there was a good chance that we could get a close up view of the participants in all of their fine regalia and of the floats. Don’t be intimidated, he said. Just tell them you’re from the US.

Upon arrival at the gate, we were turned away and not only that, but told gates would not open until 8:45! After conferring with our taxista, we had him take us to a mall to hang out whilst time passed. An hour passed fairly quickly and uneventfully. Then we stopped to look at wine in one of the carts that line mall concourses. I had a delightful conversation in Spanish with one vendor, while Charlie and the other vendor conversed in English. Gustavo told me that it would be a good idea to eat before going to Carnival to avoid the long lines there and recommended a place at the mall called Sherwood. It had the best cuts of beef, cooked to perfection, and very generous, too generous portions.

By now of course, we are arriving late to carnival and we do get stuck in traffic, but it moved fairly quickly.

We should have bought our tickets on-line as the best stand locations were sold out. We bought Preferential tickets, but were still a ways down the concourse. The performers had steely stamina, though and provided a good show for the entire length of the route, which was between a quarter to a half mile long. The energy of the evening was electric from the folks watching, to the performers. The music blared, and repeated throughout the long night, though periodically some comparsa would inject something different. At times, the music was live, with musicians and singers on a float, their stage high above the crowd. I don’t have a photo of that, but below are a few more photos to provide an ideal of te flash, the creativity, and the beauty of the costumes.

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The backsides are equally beautiful – costume and other wise. But I don’t have any good photos of the otherwise backsides. You know of what I speak.

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There was often some drama played out at participants went by.

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A close-up to get an idea of what the women are walking in.

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I only saw one man in heels – er, kinky boots? And I gotta say, I saw him stumble once. Never saw a woman stumble in that whole long escapade of paraders. Man, I look at the photo below and see relatively few smiles. I feel like I had one plastered on my face the entire time.

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We stayed until the end at around 6 in the morning, and joined the crowd in walking to the main drag. Many were taking the buses – they went by, just packed, not a hair’s width between them and sounding like the party was continuing. We walked about a mile, passing many others trying to get a cab, before we could procure one. It was a beautiful walk, watching the sky lighten, and it felt good to stretch the legs after dancing on the bleachers all night.

Remember I mentioned a foam spray that was so popular at the Fiesta de Queso in Tafí? It’s called nieve, really does look like snow, and was in abundance here, too. Kids have such a good time trying to spray one another down as much as possible. Others just spray it up into air.

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All the costumes are hand made, hand stitched; some by the participant and some pay to have it made. A comparsa is a troupe or a club; members decide together on the theme for the year. People have their favorite comparsas, the one they think is best. We heard that the best ones come at the end, but, I don’t know that I have the ability to discern. They were all, with maybe one or two exceptions, over-the-top brilliant. Look at this one, which came down the pike fairly early in the whole 9 hours (as far as I recall). This guy walked and did tricks and road it upside down. Spectacular!

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At the end of Carnival, some costumes are put in storage; some are taken apart to be recycled for use on next year’s creation; some are donated to the Chamame & Carnival Museum in Corrientes. Chamame is the local music.

Arrived home (so many homes in the past few months and 3 more to come!) around 7, had yogurt and fruit, brushed my teeth, and headed to bed for a several hours.

I awoke yesterday morning feeling lethargic and with an upset stomach. It lasted all day, into the night, and is hanging on today. Last night I couldn’t do anything but listen to a book on Audible and go to bed early. Hence the lateness of this post.

The posting is extra late now (Today is the 6th and we traveled all day from Corrientes to Iguazú Falls) because I had trouble saving it. Sometimes WordPress gets particular about how long a post has gone unpublished. At least that seems to be the issue. My tummy is finally feeling better; this morning was dicey.

It’s raining buckets here in Puerto Iguazú. Hoping for some sun tomorrow and/or Friday for best viewing of the cataratas or falls. We are told they are so much more immense than Niagara. Eleanor Roosevelt is purported to have said, upon viewing them, “Oh, poor Niagara.” We’ll let you know!

Leaving on Saturday for Santa Fe for a few nights on our return to BsAs. Last days coming up! I’m already feeling nostalgic for places we’ve been and people we’ve met. Ties can be made so easily; and just as easily untied, let go. We have found the Argentine people to be so very friendly and happy to engage in conversation, to be helpful, to be genuinely happy to meet us. This is as true in a big city as it is in the smaller ones. I would happily return to Argentina to visit those parts unexplored.

I had better post or this will be delayed again!

Loving and missing you and knowing you are here with me in a fashion. Paula

 

Catching Up

We left Tafí del Valle around mid day on the 28th and haven’t posted since the 26th or 25th. On the 27th, Wednesday, we took a day trip to Cafayate, north of Tafí. It’s another great wine country area, though lesser known than the Mendoza region. On-line google maps indicated that the trip takes 2 hours by bus. Well, I guess that’s a direct bus. It took us 3 hours, what with stops all along the route to pick up and drop off people in small towns, and at times what appeared to be simply a shaded bus stop on the road. One stop was at a Museo Escolar and several students got on for a short ride to their next destination. School is not in session, so we assume they were engaged in a summer session of extra curricular activity.

By the time we arrived in Cafayate, most of the wineries (of which there are several in town) were closed for the lunch hour. So we tucked in ourselves at a local brewery. Many breweries in the north western part of the country only brew rubia (blond), roja (red amber), and a porter. This roja was not so great. I had the local white wine Torrentés which was OMG delicious. It’s crisp, fresh, fruity, not sweet. A delicate array of flowers on the tongue. Look for it!

Since it was still early after lunch, as wineries didn’t open till 3 or 3:30 we went to the Museo de la Vid (vine) y el Vino. It’s the most delightful mix of poetry and science that I have had the fortune to witness. Jazz music plays. Poetry explains the magic of the elements that come together to create wine. This photo gives a sense of the whimsy and seriousness with which the topic is undertaken. I loved these wineglasses suspended like hummingbird feeders.

Later in the exhibit there is a month by month delineation of the tasks that must be undertaken to have the results of a fine wine.

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We enjoyed our first wine tasting at the Vid y Vino tasting room. The one wine we had not tried before, but did here, was a sweet after dinner wine to enjoy with dessert. In this case it was called La Boda de Caná. Too sweet for us. Reminded me of the Vin Santo of Italy. 20190227_151027

We met James from the Bay area here. I helped him out with Spanish. Then we ran into one another again at the next tasting and continued on together through the rest of the tastings. He teaches preschool children in Berkeley and is traveling solo, driving. His mom lives in ABQ! We gave him our contact info but failed to get his. Hoping to hear from him when next he visits his mom. We were so enjoying our time together, and the last wine tasting had such generous pours, that we had to really walk fast to make our 6 pm bus. The doors had closed when we arrived. But unlike a plane, they opened to let us on. I slept the sleep of a wine soaked biscuit on the way back to Tafí.20190227_173053

I’m not sure when I took this photo, but I love it for the moodiness of sky, the clouds above and below, shrouding the mountains in mystery. It must have been the morning of the 28th because that’s what the photo log says. At any rate, the day turned bright and sunny. It would have been perfect for another attempt at climbing the Cerro.20190227_080510

Leaving Tafí

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20190228_141919This is Lago Angostura, created by a dam. I don’t understand why the water exits the dam as it does in the photo above the lake, but I think it’s pretty impressive.

And below is my attempt at showing what it’s like to sit in the upper level of a two decker bus in the front seats. Wow. It’s quite disconcerting not seeing a driver in front of you. When the bus takes the hairpin curves to the right it seemingly goes to the very edge of the road on the right. And when the hairpin curves left, it goes into the oncoming lane. My heart was in my throat a few times, even recognizing that the bus drivers know the route and they must have mirrors that allow them to see around the bend to know that a car is not in that lane. It was a beautiful drive through the mountains and I look forward to our next bus trip to Puerto Iguazu when we again have seats 1 and 2 on the upper level.

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We arrived in Tucuman around 3 pm which gave us time to have lunch in the bus terminal, which was more like a mall. I had a dish I hadn’t seen previously on any menu: tarta de verdura con ensalada. The tarta whas made with squash and chicken in a light a flaky crust and was accompanied with cooked zucchini and beets, and fresh tomatoes, and red cabbage. Charlie had the albondígas portuguesas, (not that we saw any such thing while in Portugal) which are 2 really big meatballs on a bed of rice. The meat was well seasoned and delicious. Meals were served on real plates with real stainless steel utensils. We were quite impressed with this level of attention at a bus station. I pray that the US conglomerate fast food joints never infiltrate.

At 7 pm we boarded El Norte Bis, hereafter known as El Norte Beast as it was pretty much a POS. No ports for phones or head phones to listen to the movie. No blanket or pillow for a 12 hour ride. But, the seats are wide and recline a good bit. BTW, seats of this nature are called “butacas”. In the end it wasn’t so bad, but it certainly didn’t live up to the high standard that we received on Andesmar for the BsAs to Mendoza trip. We didn’t have much of a choice either; probably has to do with the rural nature of the trip from the northwest part of the country across a no-man’s land to Corrientes.

Right now, so excited to be leaving soon for Carnival at the Corsódromo! More tomorrow.

Much love, Paula

 

 

Corrientes

Corrientes is the current name of the settlement called San Juan de Vera de las Siete Corrientes (Saint John of Vera of the Seven Currents), a name that references characteristics of the Rio Parana. The citiy is located near the northern boarder with Paraguay, just below the confluence of the Rio Paraguay, which forms part Paraguay’s southwestern border, and the Rio Parana, which is the southern boarder with Argentina. The population of Corrientes was 346,000 in 2010, making it the 13th largest city in Argentina.

We arrived yesterday on the overnight bus from Tucuman and spent the day mostly getting settled in. Our apartment was not available until 11:30 so we had nearly four hours to spend wandering our way towards our temporary home. After breakfast and coffee we decided to check out street art murals in a somewhat circuitous path.

These murals are bas relief and are representations of various cultural and historical elements of the city. Here are images of a few of the murals.

We are not really familiar with the history of this area and have found little current information in English. The area was colonized by Europeans in the early sixteenth century and has been subject to various disputes, originally with the Guarani indigenous population, and subsequently the Portuguese, English, and Paraguayan incursions. We are assuming these murals reflect elements of that past.

Although we were not particularly touring at this point, we did check out some of the beaches and cooled our heels in Parque Mitre, named for the former Argentine president who was an important general in the war of independence from Spain.

After checking in to our apartment we made a quick foray to the nearby markets to stock the kitchen and then settled in for a few hours to escape the heat of the day and catch up on our sleep a bit.

In the evening we roamed the Costanera, which is a promenade along the river on the north and west sides of the city. It was a wonderful, peaceful walk during which we decided to extend our stay here for an extra day.

We are here for Carnival. Corrientes calls itself the “National Capital of Carnival” in Argentina, though most people we have spoken with think that honor should belong to Gualeguaychu, which is on Rio Uruguay a couple hours north of Buenos Aires. We were expecting a city “painted in color” for the Carnival, but for now all we have seen is a couple of booths selling tickets for the events at the sports park twenty minutes east of the city. We bought our tickets for tonight, and will be leaving the apartment at 6PM for the show that will run from 9PM until 6AM tomorrow. We are going to try once again to see the whole show, which we understand gets better and better through the night.

We will be posting about Carnival de Corrientes tomorrow.