Funny Ha-Ha

I sent an email tonight to everyone who I have met travelling (obviously only those whose email address I have), ie, a lot of people, just to say "hi" and that my trip (or "adventure" as some like to call them) is coming to an end. Yvonne pointed out what a funny joke I had made, titling the email "The End Is Neigh". Hmmm

Lots of travellers end their journey with the treat of a stay at a luxury hotel. I had no such plans, but Thursday Jordi and I are off to Calafate, where the famous Moreno Glacier (lots of facts and figures here) ends in spectacular style. We shall be staying in spectacular style, at the four star Posadas Los Alamos. It will be the plushest hotel I have stayed in on this trip. Ok, ever. I am really looking forward to a big, non-saggy bed, with thick light duvet and hot showers at any time of day in the warm on-suit bathroom. So forgive me if you don't hear from me until I'm home on Thursday.

BJ's Cyber Cafe

This story hinges on a common feature of men's toilets that might need an explanation for all those girlies out there. You have urinals right? Troughs and individual urinals. More often than not the individuals are set too close together, at best making it awkward to pee next to somebody, at worse making it practically impossible to fit two bodies around two urinals, this usually occurs in a corner where two urinals will point at one person standing there. What are they expecting? Siamese twins? One urinal to break, leaving the backup? A man with two penises? Anyway...

So after a bit of an internet sesh I needed a wee and made a trip to the toilet. There were two urinals in a corner, as explained above, and a man using one, so I decided to wait. But the man said "pase, pase", I'm not sure how to translate that*, but you get the idea. So I go in and decide, no, really, I cannot fit into that space, even skinny old me, so I tell him I'll wait. He finishes, goes to wash his hands and repeats "pase, pase" so I pase and start the serious business of peeing. He talks to me a bit, I don't really catch what he says, but I figure he's cursing the people who are thinking of the Siamese twins, so I nod and laugh in agreement. The guy comes back to the other urinal and starts unzipping himself. This is when I figure something is up. I was right, there's not enough room, he might as well use my urinal. He's looking over, I swear it. Not really that phased I finish and do my myself up. He goes for my groin. This is when I start saying "no". I wash my hands. He apologises, and explains that he likes to... and here he made a very explicit gesture with his hand and his mouth, now if he'd just said that from the start...

In other news my flight is a week Tuesday. I really don't want to leave Buenos Aires :'( My current fantasy is that I will find a company in the UK who will pay me half what I was getting in London but will let me work from here.

*Update: Jodi says that "pase" translates to "come in", I replied that you wouldn't say that in English, it would sound a bit weird, but then I suppose maybe it sounds weird in Spanish too, and warning bells should have been ringing from the start :)

Drunk Tom

A couple of weeks ago I noticed a new guy in our hostel, it was around midday, I was just having breakfast, he was just having a couple of beers. I didn't think much of it, people do that sort of thing in hostels, though it's a little dangerous in Argentina as you often don't stop drinking until the next day. Later we met and he turned out to be a nice young American thinking about getting a flat in Buenos Aires. That evening I came back to find that he was still drinking, though holding it together quite well, just going a little slow, though later he lost the ability to string a sentence together, and later still made a female friend of mine a little uncomfortable.
The next day I went down for breakfast at about the same time to find the same scene, Tom drank a couple of beers while I was eating my breakfast. This is when I first started to suspect that there might be a problem. Things continued in this vein for a week until one day he came to our room saying that he had to leave as there were no spare beds, I went down to reception as I hadn't booked a bed in advance either. The receptionists gave me a bed on condition that I didn't tell Tom. Apparently Tom was being subtly chucked out of the hostel for breaking some stuff and attempting to punch someone, I'd only ever seen him as a peaceful drunk. After he'd gone I felt a bit guilty that I didn't try to offer him any help. But not that guilty, he returned to the bar one evening and I remembered how awkward things could get.
Skip ahead to yesterday evening, I and four friends were eating at a restaurant a couple of blocks from our hostel when Tom walks in. Slowly. He comes over to our table and attempts a conversation but we couldn't really make out what he wanted to say apart from "should I leave?" and "should I eat here?" We weren't really sure of the answers to these questions. Eventually he sat by himself at another table and the waiter came over to apologise, I told him not to worry, we knew him. During our meal Tom repeatedly tried to engage in conversation, in vein, once apologising, for what we weren't sure. After a while he started to pace a couple of times and the waiter came over and told me that he needed to go to the loo but couldn't make it on his own, the toilets being down a spiral staircase. I got up to help him, but as I got up I could see that I was too late and sat down again. Tom got up leaving his books and jacket and left the restaurant. The waiter wanted us to pay for his bottle of wine. We refused.
This morning I went to find Tom to tell him where his stuff was and offer him help. He didn't take me up on the help, though I'm not sure what I could do. He told me that it's happened a couple of times, he's been half way through a book and lost it. I wondered if he really thought the book had caused him to lose his temper. It took two people to explain to me that he meant he'd lost the book and not lost his temper.
So that's my (attempted) good dead for the day, now where are some kittens I can kill?

In other news Jordi is famous after appearing on TV at a competition to see who can do the most convincing rolly-polly. She appears at 1:25 here.

A First Time For Everything

I've never been too quick in certain situations, so when I noticed Jordi shrinking away from two guys walking towards us I didn't think much of it. I began to think more of it when they started asking for money, but I still attempted the ostrich defence thinking that they were probably just begging and walked between them, Jordi was less sure. When one started to hold her jacket I kind of pulled her on in an attempt to get her to keep walking, I managed a "que pasa?" (as Jordi pointed out recently, my favourite Spanish phrase. Actually my only Spanish phrase) she got out her purse and gave them some notes (about 20 pesos, £3) and they ran off. I wonder what would have become of me if Jordi had taken her bus and not walked me home. I might have lost all the money that would have gone to the tattooist if my skin had healed better and he'd been able to finish my tattoo.

Smooth Operator

There seems to be something about the Argentinean phone system which is conducive to wrong numbers (there is some weirdness with mobile numbers changing depending on where you are in the country and whether you want to call or text, it is a big country, but then the population isn't that high), I've even been told that people keep chatting to wrong numbers on occasion in the hope of securing a date. So I wasn't that surprised to get a text a day or so after getting my own mobile asking after Gaby. What is surprising is that these text messages haven't stopped. (It has occurred to me that this might be one of Jordi's friends, but it seems a little long winded for a practical joke.)

Thursday

HOW'S IT GOING GABY?

I'm not Gaby, I'm Jamie.

I HAVE THIS NUMBER AS GABY'S

(In English) Stop shouting, Gaby is not here!

Wednesday

Hello Skinny-Girl! How are you? I need a favour...
(Flaco/Flaca is a nickname for a skinny boy/girl)

I am not Skinny-Girl, I am Skinny-Boy.

Sorry, you know what? I would like to communicate with gabriela, you don't know her?

Is she pretty?

You don't know the number? I am a girl? I don't know...

Thursday

HOW'S IT GOING GABY?

Saturday

HOW ARE YOU GABY? I REALLY LIKE YOU A LOT!!

(The term "te quiero" is quite difficult to translate, it kinda means "I love you", but it's quite loose and means different things when you say it to a friend, a family member or a (potential) boyfriend/girlfriend, "Te quiero pero no te amo", "I love you but I don't love you" is famous.)

Thanks, but I am not Gaby

SO WHO ARE YOU?

I am Jamie.

TBC

Does He Take Sugar?

Now don't get me wrong, my Spanish is pretty bad, but after a month in fucked-up-Portuguese speaking Brazil having to struggle through the simplest restaurant request, I'd forgotten how much Spanish I actually knew. Yesterday I went to get my hair cut, it was the first date I've ever been on at a hairdressers, but anyway, I couldn't really get much of what he (the hairdresser, not my date, who was female :P ) was saying, though he still complimented me on my Spanish, and then later that evening I was chatting to a guy on a bus and really got everything that he said, I was pretty pleased with myself, I think I am beginning to see why people like learning languages.

Back In BA. Again.

At the risk of sounding like a pretentious knobber, comng back to Buenos Aires really felt like coming home. Mexico was my favourite holidaying place (sorry Sonia, Colombia comes a close second) but Argentina is the place that I'd emigrate to. They just know how to do things right, from the buses, food and wine, to the food and wine on the buses. The mosquitoes really know how to bite. My hand and wrist have swollen due to a couple of nasty ones. It's strange as it's so cold here, and I wasn't bothered this much even in the Colombian jungle.

Last night as I was walking home I witnessed a tramp having a wank in a large, glass fronted, very well lit ATM cubical.

Paranoid And Sunburnt (Ur-a-gay)

I finally went to Colonia, Uruguay, yesterday. Which was nice. When I got up in Buenos Aires it was raining. I took Kai's umbrella and my jacket but left my factor 40 suncream behind. I have been more sunburnt in my life. Once. The first day that I was in Australia and had six blisters on one lip. But yesterday I managed to burn the back of my hand. Who else has managed to burn their hand?! I blame the sun halo (pictured). Colonia is lovely, I highly recommend it. To get there you have to cross what must be one of the widest "rivers" in the world, which is really really brown, it ruined lots of the pictures, I suppose it's pollution. Sonja, my Colonia companion, said that her travel book says that if you fall into the water around BA you should see a doctor, so we went for a swim, and the water didn't taste salty, so I guess it really is a river.

I have some plans. I am going south tomorrow, for two weeks, hopefully going right down to see the glacier, then hopefully meet Kai for a few days in Baraloche (the lake district). Kai is here now, but he's going up to Iguazu in the interim. After that I am meeting my "old" friend Johanna, who I spent time with in Cordoba and Salta, for Christmas and New Year in Valparaiso, Chile. I then want to travel north, visiting Bolivia and Peru, and then up to see friends in Venezuela and Mexico. I was hoping I might be able to just catch the second leg of my flight straight from the US, but apparently that's not possible :(

I think I can feel the beginnings of three blisters on my lips.

Everybody's Looking For Something

I had a dream last night:

I was travelling, and I met this really lovely girl who I really really liked, she happened to look a lot like Victoria, sparkly eyes and all. Unfortunately she was leaving, but I realised that I had a ticket for exactly same date and time, so I was hoping that we would be able to stay together. Then I was waiting at the train station, with 15 minutes to go, and I realised that I hadn't got my bag with me, and that I hadn't even packed it. The train arrived and I explained to the driver that I had to get my bag and she said that it was ok, they could wait for me. So I started back to the hostel where I was staying but I couldn't quite remember where it was, or even go in the right direction, I think I had to crawl for some reason. And by the time I got back and packed it was far too late, and I had to take a bus, knowing that I would never see the girl again.

I think that it's one of the most obvious dreams that I've ever had in my life. The night before I dreamed that my youngest brother, Josh, was stealing this huge ship-like metal contraption from our mum's garden.

So yeah, Victoria and I are parting company, slowly and painfully but surely. Kai of course has been a bastion of support, coming out with little gems, such as "ah well...", "plenty more fish in the sea" and "I have a wart!"

In other news, through the power of the internet, I am now listening to the song that I had in my head this morning when I woke up this morning - Automatic Stop by The Strokes, yay! :)

Odds And Ends

Four posts in two days, it must be bad.

My "illness" continues, psychologically I feel better, but I awoke at 8 again and couldn't get back to sleep, and my right hand has had cramp all day. Does that mean I've had a heart attack? Or is that the left side? What does the right side mean? I just read in my book, Veronika Decides To Die, that "a lack of serotonin impairs one's capacity to concentrate at work, to sleep, to eat, and to enjoy life's pleasures." No mention of cramp in right hand though. Maybe I have caught some of the radiation from that Russian spy.

Usually when I go to another country I am struck by how little I think of the local music, but Argentine pop, and the rock especially is pretty good, I even sent Maddy a CD thinking she might like it, she hasn't got back to me on that one though :) Although some of the pop artists are difficult to tell apart, or maybe there is just one incredibly popular guy. It's possible. Talking of music, it's the one thing that I really miss, I'd just love to be able to hear Some Things Come From Nothing by Super Furry Animals or What Would The Comunity Think by Catpower.

I saw another T-shirt today, it was actually really good, but I can't fricking remember what it said, anyone know hypnosis?

OMG, in this internet cafe you cannot browse webpages with "pink" in the url!

I have another film to recommend: Pieces of April. A good film staring Katie Holmes, whatever next?

####### Americans

It took a while to stop refering to people from the USA as Americans, because obviously, everyone here is American. I just made eye contact with two American women...

"Doo yoou speak ENglish?"
"Yes" (Do you?)
"Do you know how to call the United States?"
"Have you tried dialling 001?" (You see the USA had to be 001 so that y'all could remember, y'see?)

Actually I feel a little guilty, I just overheard them, they've had some sort of problem here, and of course, no one speaks ENglish.

BTW, the reason for the hashes are that this ####### internet cafe has some sort of clever sensoring software, although strangely, in some wierd concession to sussex it doesn't sensor "sex", but you can't visit any website with "####" in the url.

Back In BA

So I went to Brazil. I saw a waterfall (Iguazu, on the Brazil/Argentine border). The Brazilian side was actually a little disappointing, although it has the more impressive view^*, I realised that the really fun part about the Argentinean side was all the walking though the jungle and seeing all the wildlife (ok, birds, butterflies, lizards and a caiman).

I also went to a bird park that I had been recommended in Brazil. I quickly remembered how little I like seeing large birds in small cages, and even less paying to keep them there. But will I ever get the chance to stroke a friendly toucan again?

So I'm back in Buenos Aires, and I've been feeling really strange, I can't quite put my finger on it. At first I thought it was the 18 hr bus ride which I found too cold to sleep, but I woke up this morning at 8 and couldn't get back to sleep, which is unheard of for me. I am actually wondering if I am a bit ill, other symptoms include taking on lots of fluids and lose of appetite. Maybe I'm in love :) no, it's just a funny phase I'm going through, or maybe it's delayed altitude sickness from Purmamarca and the salt flats.

* Actually I just realised that Argentina has the most impressive view, right over the biggest part of the waterfall, but I arrived there as the park was closing and was hurried along, I'd been spending too long photographing butterflies :)

It's Gettin' Hot In Herre

When I arrived in Argentina the first thing Kai and I did was to visit Tigre. It's a nice picturesque town to the north of BsAs, but when we were there it was fricking cold. Victoria and I went back last weekend and found that in the hot weather it had become more like a pleasant beach resort with families sitting drinking mate in the sun. The one downer was the buena vista spoiled by a great big McDonald's stuck in the middle. I tried to explain the concept of planning permission to Victoria, but (I think) she said that if you own the land you can do what you like with it.

When In Argentina...

Well it's been a pretty bizarre weekend. Victoria and I spent Friday night in a transitory hotel, where you can hire rooms by the hour. Our room had a jacuzzi, a mirror above the bed, a plastic covered mattresses, duel showers, porn on TV and a kind of cabinet with doors on both sides set into the door, which allows the maid to leave drinks without having to open the door. It wasn't nearly as seedy as I had imagined. Apparently these hotels are extremely common in South America because so many young people live with their conservative parents who are in denial about them having sex, the girls here were quite surprised to hear that we don't have them in the UK.

Then Saturday night was museum night, when the museums of Buenos Aires open for the evening and there's a big party at the central museum. Going round museums at 1am didn't prove to be very exciting.

Our fellow classmates are, as I type, at the observer number 1 sporting thing to do before you die - watching River Plate vs Boca. We turned on the TV to watch it and wondered why we were seeing so much of the crowd. It turns out it's a pay to view match and if you don't pay you just get to see the crowd and hear the commentary. Guess we should keep an eye out for Toby and Rich.

This Is South America, You Can Smoke Wherever You Like

There are quite a lot of no smoking signs around Buenos Aires, no one seems to take much notice of them though. Then on Saturday night, in our local, the girls we were with were told that they couldn't smoke after midnight, which seemed a bit bizarre, but it turned out that from 1st Octobre smoking is banned in places with under 100m² floor space.

In other news Kai is ill. It's the only conclusion I can come to. He enjoyed spinach, and he admitted it. We went to a Geek Meet, some linux guys Kai met last week, and he dragged me along this time, I was expecting to leave early but it turned out to be pretty cool, really nice people and a nice mix of speaking English and Spanish, and they took us to their favourite pizza place afterwards.

You Are Here

This is our hostel on google maps, the area doesn't look nearly so dreary in real life, and this is Puente De La Mujer (Woman's Bridge) at Puerto Madero which I took some photos of a couple of days ago. Apparently Puerto Madero is where all the tourists go, God knows why, it's like the Docklands in London and even has its own Canary Wharf.

I should have said in my last post that our breakfast consists of two medialuna (half moon) facturas and a beverage. The medialunes are like small dense croissants glazed in sugar and got a bit boring after the first day. Kai defends them by saying they're not boring, sometimes they're stale, sometimes they're fresh. He's right, sometimes they're very dense and sometimes they're quite light. Anyway, it was a bit of a shock to the system this morning to be presented with toast and jam!

Food Glorious Food

Up until last night I had been a bit disappointed with the steak, it's not bad, it's just not been as good as everyone made out. There was one exception which was the Sandwich De Lomo Completo, or Lometo. It is the most incredible thing, a slice of tender beef, cheese, ham, lettuce and tomato inside a piece of French bread, I really can't tell you how good it tastes! And then last night we had the most fabulous steak in pepper sauce.

Kai's been obsessed with being able to cut the steak with the back of his knife. Last night I went one better and cut my steak with my fork :)

Now I'm hungry, and it's only 4:20. Everything happens so late here, the restaurants don't get busy until 10, and trying to get everyone together and out the door is what Kai and Spencer might describe as a nightmare or hell on earth. Victoria took my watch away on Friday night and wouldn't give it back to me until Sunday night. I can hear Jo's mum saying something about letting women walk all over me :) (Probably while telling me what I should be doing.)

They love their sweet pastries (facturas) and tarts here, they look wonderful, and sometimes taste quite good too :)

Ah, I See

"...the thing you eat your cereal out of is spelt bowl, the thing in your blog is the tube your food comes through, bowel, if you reread your blog substituting bowel for bowl its really funny."

Well Ha Fucking Ha :)

Letter From Home

"Is this a kind of enema, mensioned in your last blog, it sounds rather painful, and not particularly tasty."

Well now you mention it, it's not particularly tasty, but it's that sort of thing that tastes like it will do you good, or at least might make you feel good.

The weather wasn't so good on Friday and Saturday, it rained Friday night, and when it rains here it really rains, we had horizontal lightning and everything.

¡Happy Spring!

Thursday was the first day of spring, which is celebrated here with flowers and a day off school, which is traditionally used for picnicking and drinking mate. Mate is kind of difficult to describe, it's kind of like a green tea, but with quite specific drinking equipment. You fill up a bowel with leaves and a bit of sugar and then pour in some hot water and drink the water through a straw with a filter on the bottom. You keep replenishing the bowel with water and pass it around amongst your friends. We did this in a park around Palermo, very close to the airport.

Friday night we went to another dance class, I think this one was the milonga, as opposed to the tango we did before, again, much fun was had, and I'm sure there are some photos somewhere.

I think my Spanish is getting worse. I swear I will do more work this weekend.