Air Canada Angel

We spent the afternoon at a hotel, grabbing some much needed rest, before heading back to the airport for our standby flight. We certainly were not anticipating getting a seat. We took a chance and stopped by the customer service desk to see if we could plead our case. You will never believe this... Not only did he confirm a seat for us in less than five minutes, but he also upgraded us to executive class. Go figure!

Air Canada Continued

The reason that Air Canada is going down the tubes like a subway off it's tracks, is because it's employees wear such uncomfortable clothes. Their garments are way too tight and their shoes are built for style rather than comfort. This makes them crabby after about the first hour of their shift.

We arrived at the airport in Santiago at 1700 hours yesterday. This was the time that the buses dropped us off. This time their were 600 people lined up because there were all of the people from the previous days canceled flight and all of the people for the regular 8:00 daily flight to Toronto. Of course the agents had not even started to check people in. Both flights were late getting off the ground. Our agent took our boarding passes from the previous day (the ones to get us to Deer Lake) and replaced them with ONE boarding pass to Toronto. When I questioned her about this she said I had to pick up my other two in Toronto. This was my first mistake. Then she told us we could not have our seats that had been reserved yesterday because there was new seating and she put Sean on one side of the plane and me behind him on the opposite side. Mistake number two was not insisting on yesterdays seating. Pay attention now so that you do not make the same mistakes that we did.

When we finally boarded, the crew were contrary due to the straight jackets and bound feet and the disruption in their schedule, so of course they took it out on the passengers for inconveniencing them. Poor Sean sat next to a woman in the early stages of Alzheimer Disease. I think that someone upstairs was shining down on her because there were 299 other people that she could have had in the adjoining seat. Sean may occasionally be a Douche Tard but he is the kindest Douche Tard I have ever met. He made surethat she did not become dehydrated and that her food was unwrapped and eaten. He listened patiently to her repetitive stories for eleven hours. Her family has no idea how lucky they were to have had such a kind and patient caregiver watching over their Mom. He, on the other hand, did not get a wink of sleep. The SCREECHING baby in front did not help matters.

And then we landed and the games began. Customs was a nitemare and that was the best part. Just outside the customs area the whole flight was lined up like cattle waiting to be re booked and there were no flights available because of the storm that just blew thru. We were shuffled from lineup to lineup until we finally got our turn with a ticket agent. I knew we were in trouble when she asked where we were going and after hearing our reply looked at the agent next to her and askedher if Air Canada flew into Deer Lake. By now we had been standing in lineups for 5 hours without being able to go to the washroom or get a drink. This woman insisted that we were delayed due to weather and not mechanical difficulty and could find no flight records on either of us. We were not in the system. After a half hour of her playing with her computer (I think she was just emailing her friends) she said her shift was over and that she was going home. The agent next to her took us over. By now, everyone else on our flight was processed and gone. And due to the weather problems any seats that we could have had were taken. The new agent started from scratch and also could not grasp that we were in this situation due to mechanical problems and kept telling us that most people were understanding about the weather. When she eventually said that we were holding up the lineup and that there were other travelers to process, I got a little testy. I think she got the point then. She put us on standby for a direct flight tonite but we know that we do not have a hope in hell of getting on. Everything else has been left hanging. No confirmed flight in the wings.... we just go back to the airport and wait.

One would think that if a few guys with box cutters could put a stop to all air traffic for a week, that 25 million Canadians could unite and bring Air Canada down. If I could afford it, I would take out a nation wide television ad, laced with sarcasm, showing how Air Canada is not happy until their customers are stripped of all dignity and at their wits end.

Air Cnada sucks in South America, too

We arrived at the airport in Buenos Airies, three hours ahead of time, as we were supposed to, but of course the Air Canada ticket agents were not at their posts and by the time they did arrive all 300 passengers were lined up thruout the airport waiting. We were lucky enough to be the 7th in line because Sean is militant about time, but there were elderly people and mothers with babies who were not so fortunate. They were well down the line. We knew then that the flight would be late because there was no way that the agents could process that many people in an hour and a half. And they certainly were not in a hurry. I had already reconciled myself to the fact that we would miss our connection in Toronto and that I would miss seeing Zack before he returned to school. We did eventually get off the ground and landed safely in Santiago. It was a beautiful flight. We disembarked at the airport there and re boarded an hour later, only to sit on the runway for 3 hours while mechanics tried to fix the pressurization. At 11:00 they finally decided that it needed a new part that they didn't have in stock here so the flight would be canceled. Of course they did not offer us a drink or a cookie in all that time and there were screeching babies and women with perfume overload just to add to the aggravation. Once they did decide to cancel, we had to get off and go thru immigration and customs because there are no exceptions to the rules here. That was hell! There is a reciprocity fee here of $120US per person just to get into the country. They told me I could go on thru, but that Sean would have to line up to pay it. It took awhile, but I finally found someone (he was kind of hot, too) who could speak English and explain that the reason that I did not have to pay it was because I paid it two years ago and it is good for the lifetime of your passport. I sat down to wait for Sean who was at the very end of the 300 person lineup. You would think there would be some kind of pardon for passengers stranded due to no fault of their own, or that Air Canada would have taken care of it, but no. I was dying of thirst but there was nowhere to buy a drink and I couldn't if I wanted to because I had no Chilean pesos. I found a money exchange and changed $20 which in retrospect was a mistake because we are here for the day with no money to do anything. The hot guy saw me sitting and waiting for Sean and he went and hauled him out of the lineup and brought him over and had his passport stamped and let us go thru. Still can't figure out why unless it was because we were the only people in the lineup not freaking out. You really do get further with honey than vinegar. From there it got worse because nobody knew where we were going or how we were to get there and there is very little English spoken here. The screeching babies only added to the chaos. When we did get thru we were told there would be an Air Canada agent waiting outside to tell us where we should go. HA! Nobody. Sean stayed with the baggage while I went looking for her. I noticed a drink machine and stopped because I was so thirsty, only to find the ticket agent hiding in a nook nearby behind the stairs. She was wearing those ridiculous spike heeled shoes so her back and legs were probably killing her but I had little sympathy.... I wanted to impale here on the freaking heels! Finally got to the hotel (The Raddison which was a bit of a consolation prize) only to find another lineup of other Air Canada stranded passengers waiting to check in. When we finally got into the room I went straight to the bar to get some water only to find it locked. Sean went to locate a key and was told that it was locked because Air Canada does not cover that. We had to give them our credit card before they would open it. So guys.... Air Canada sucks everywhere, not just Atlantic Canada.

All that said, my father tells me that Toronto is stormed in anyway and I can think of a lot worse places to be stuck than sunny, scenic Santiago.

My email has been down for four days so I can't communicate thru it, but I can thru my blog, so feel free to post a comment. That remark is especially directed toward my children who I would love to hear from. Latest news is that we leave here 8:00 tonite, but I am not counting on anything.

The Action in Buenos Aires at Midnite

I have yet to figure out when the people of Buenos Aires actually sleep. Nobody goes out for their evening meal till eleven at nite. The only people that you see in restaurants before ten o'clock are tourists and the streets are alive at midnite. Sean and I went to an outdoor cafe last nite for cena (supper). The streets were jammed with people and cars. We barely found a table and this city is maggoty with outdoor cafes and restaurants. At that hour, people are sitting down to a full meal of appetizers, large entrees and desserts, not to mention the wine and beer that is normal with every meal except breakfast. We have decided that the women here must throw up regularly. There is no possible way to maintain their figures with their eating habits. They look like waifs. Even the clothing in the shops is designed for a skeleton. A skeleton with boobs, of course. While shopping yesterday we noticed that there seems to be more clothing stores for men than women. Doesn't THAT say something!

I digress. At midnite there are children as young as five wandering around with arm loads of roses, individually wrapped, trying to sell them to diners. These children are everywhere. They must be making sales or they would not be at it. (An aside.... yesterday we saw a little boy who could not have been more than four, working the streets in Palermo with a case of little shooter glasses in the shapes of bears. You should have seen him sell! And we didn't get a photo!) There are mothers with infants out begging on every corner. Young and old alike are walking the crammed streets.

We went into a bookstore around midnite and the place was swarming with customers. AT MIDNITE! And EVERYBODY smokes... everywhere. I don't think there are any places off limits.

This is quite a city. As much as I love Argentina, I will not miss Buenos Aires. Too big, too noisy, too fast and far to superficial for my taste.

We head for home today. I will try to add some photos to each of my blogs later. If we miss our connection in Toronto (1 hour and 25 minutes to make it) I will do it then. Everybody say a little prayer for us to make it. I want to see Zack before he leaves to go back to Fredericton.

Driving and parking in Buenos Aries

My apologies for going on and on about the driving but I can't help myself. When Jess and I traveled we were too cheap to take taxis so this trip is kind of novel for me. We took the cab ride from hell today. Picture Park Street... got it? Now picture three (not two) lanes of traffic weaving their way thru it at 70km per hour. Now throw in some motor cycles and scooters weaving there way thru that chaos... And just to get the complete picture, we will add people on bicycles. Few of the two wheelers are wearing helmets and the ones who are wearing them are only doing so because they need something to glue their cell phones to. And then there are the guys who have their dogs sitting on the front of their motorcycle with them! Now that you have a mental image of that, watch out for the guy backing out of the Poole Althouse parking lot.... everybody swerves to the left, but nobody reduces their speed. I will say one thing for the drivers here... they are in tune with what is going on around them. They are like air traffic controllers.

The parking is the coolest thing. Even tho there is a lot of green space in this city, every other inch is used. There is not a spot big enough to squeeze a dime into. Needless to say, parking cars can be a challenge. Because there is no space on the street, there are parking garages everywhere. You drive your car just inside the garage, get out, give your keys to the attendant and leave. A jack is then mechanically moved under your car and it acts as an elevator and a forklift. Each car is moved into a block so that the rear view mirrors are touching. Not enough space to open the door if you had to. The cars look like Lego blocks stacked on top of one another. A tower of cars!

The things I will miss most about Huingan-Co

-The scent of Lavender during the heat of the afternoon.
-Carito (goat) cooked in an outdoor oven fueled by wood. The best meat in the world.
-Being called the Canadian Senora.
-The breeze in the Catalpa trees. It sounds like soft rain.
-The 'Saurus' wine. A wine that has taken its name from the dinosaur bones that were discovered by the land owners where the grapes are grown.
-The nite sky.
-Meals in the mess hall and the lively conversation that took place there.
-The crisp white shirts and neatly pressed pants of the men. In a mountainside town with mud roads it is a wonder to see.
-The hitchhikers.
-The blue of the Rio Neuquen.
-The kitten that adopted me at the Troutcha (Trout) farm.
-The people of the town who all waved from their vechicles or geeted me with a friendly 'Hola' when they passed.
-The sing song speech of the spanish.
-And, believe it or not, the kissing. A North American handshake is such a cold greeting.
-The mountains. Definitely the mountains.
-Afternoon siestas.
-Sylvanie, Diego, Veronica, Eduardo, Gracila, Sabrina and Lilliana.
-But most of all, Emiliano, Andrea and Emilio. My Argentine family.

The night before we left Emiliano quietly presented Sean and I with gifts that he had purchased for us. Keychains, made from the wood of the local ponderosa pine. He chose those because he said they contained the keys to Neuquen, so that we could always find our way back.

Poor Sean

I feel like Nero. Was it Nero that fiddled while Rome burned? I have seen more of Argentina in one day that Sean has seen since we arrived. While in Huingan-Co, all he saw was the inside of the library, which is much smaller than my house. He worked from dawn till dark. The last day we were there, he started at 7:30am and finished at 11:00 pm. It wasn't till midnite that we had supper. To put the frosting on the cake, the day we left, a field trip was planned for everyone at the workshop. It was on the way to Neuquen, but it was along the scenic route. At the last moment a meeting was planned for him with the blah, blah, blah... some guys in white shirts and ties and he had to fast track back to make the meeting in time. While I was seeing some of the most phenomenal geological formations on the continent, and viewing the highest volcano (at 4000 feet) in Argentina, and watching real live gauchos, complete with black sombreros and balloon pants herd cattle, and sitting in the middle of the road while waiting for flocks (flocks? herds?) of goats to cross, and seeing the vast ranches which are breath taking, and seeing the teeny, tiniest, lonely shacks in the remotest of places complete with solar panels or windmills, and visiting a world class ski resort and gathering pine nuts on the floor of one of the last Aurucaria forests in the world, Sean was planning strategies in the highspeed truck with John and Monica. Poor Sean. He did get a consolation prize, tho. While eating supper at an outside cafe in Nuequen he saw two guys get into a fight across the street and one of them got shot. He always has to win!

Bathroom Chuckle

Thought you would all get a kick out of this. I was dying for a pee on the plane back to Buenos Aries, but big John was in the aisle seat and I didn't have the heart to climb over him. Headed for the bano as soon as I got off the flight to find a lineup of waiting women and all but one stall occupied. I checked it out, it was clean and had all of the essentials so I entered. The minute the door clicked shut I KNEW what was up. There was no latch on the inside and I was locked in. I couldn't ask anybody on the outside to help me out because I can't speak freaking spanish! So, I slid out under the door. These sorts of things never happen to pretty girls with platter boobies.

Fishing on Rio Neuquèn

Emillio, my personal chauffeur, Sergio, my guide and I went fishing up river yesterday morning. The river is well known for its salmon and people come from all over the world to fly fish. Emillio knows a smattering of english and Sergio knew none. We played sherades all morning and in the process I learned a lot of spanish and Emillio learned a lot of english. Sergio learned patience. I didn´t catch anything but Sergio hooked several fish and let me reel them in. Of course I lost the big one... it gets larger with every telling of the story. Funny how even when you cannot communicate in a common language, everyone understands the big fish story. We were in the mountains very close to the Chilean border and the sky was the bluest blue that you can imagine and the water the clearest clear that I have ever seen. I took many photographs but I know they can never do the countryside justice. Emillio is 65 and looks much like Mario of the video game... short and wide. When we started off I was ahead of him and kept offering him my hand to get from one difficult rock to another. He eventually got fed up with that and bombed on ahead of me. You should have seen him go. He is like a mountain goat. I was so embarrassed for trying to help him. On the drive back we picked up many hitchhikers... it seems that it is how people get around in these parts. First we picked up a Mother and two young boys who were on their way home from school, then we passed the school teacher from Huingan-Cò who was on his way home to Andollo. There was no room for him so Emillio put one of the young boys on my lap to make space. We dropped that bunch off and then picked up a woman in Andollo who had been in town shopping and was on her way home. She was replaced with another school teacher who was on her way home from blah, blah, blah. It seems to be a way of life. And interesting one to say the least.

The day was one of the most interesting and one of the most peaceful that I have ever and I am sure that I could write a book about it but I will bore you no more. Besides, it is early morning and the community hall is coming to life and I think that I am keeping Horatio from using his office, so, until tomorrow...... Adios.

4 Wheel Drives in Neuquèn

The Lonely Planet guide recommends the use of a 4 wheel drive when getting around in northern Neuqèn. This is a misprint. It should read that a tank is needed. However, the locals do not have tanks.... they just think they do. My new best friend, Emillio, took me 35 km up river yesterday to go fishing. He got into the truck, put the gas peddle to the floor and flew over some of the worst roads that I have ever driven on. One lane, dirt, winding death traps. It certainly does not help when all along the road are monuments that have been errected to the people who have died in car accidents along the way. There are hundreds! The hilarious part is when a hairpin turn is approached, the driver toots the horn in a friendly way but does not reduce his speed. The only reason that I can think of for doing this is because all of the local people recognize the sounds of various horns and now they can go into the valley of death knowing who they had the fatal collision with! The scenery was breathtaking, the drive, horrendous. Poor Emillio. He thinks that I should be his wife because I am such a bossy passenger.

Huingan-Cò, Neuquèn

I am in the province of Neuquèn (pronounced Nwe KEN) in the town of Huingan-Co (WinganCO) which is about fifty miles past nowhere. Yesterday, we flew for two hours south from Buenos Aries in an airplane piloted by a re-incarnated kamakazee pilot, an experience I chose to forget as quickly as possible, and then sat on a bus (mini van) for eight hours driving north east into the mountains. I mistakenly mentioned to some of you that it was a dirt road... I was wrong... it did have pavement slapped on it, sort of. Only the last 80 km was dirt. Picture the worst woods road that you have driven on in Newfoundland and then imagine it being worse. That was the road we were on at midnite last nite. If I had not been so tired I would have been scared out of my wits. We arrived here at 1am to a supper prepared by the people who owned the cabins we are staying in. All I wanted to do was sleep and everyone else was in the party mood.

The drive here was beautiful. Mountains and volcanoes all along the route, but we were in what I would call the foothills. The area is extremely dry so there are no trees and only some scrub on the arid hillsides. Most of the area is farmed with goats (cashmere) and sheep. The highway was fenced with a very rugged looking handmade fence for the whole eight hour drive.

Driving down into Localidad de Huingan-Có Provincia del Neuquen the countryside changed dramatically. Even in the dark, we could see the trees towering over our heads. Here is where the story gets interesting. This area was hit with goldmining fever ( not sure when... having trouble with translation.... and, yes Jesse, I know I should have paid more attention to my numbers.) in the late 1800´s, maybe. At the time, the place was completely forested but was clear cut for timber to use in the mines. The climate is so dry and harsh here that nothing regrew. Back in the 70´s the government noticed that all over the younger people were moving away and the town was dying so they called a meeting to see how they could keep the population status quo. They promised schools and health care etc. if people would stay. The problem was that there was nothing here for them to do because the goldrush was over. The principal´s son suggested that because of the slope and wind and water patterns that it would be a good place for forestry industry since years before it had been so heavily treed. With the help of a couple of other people, he planted 4000 hectares of trees, by hand, on some of the steepest hillsides you can imagine. For a time he diverted water from the hillsides and kept them irrigated until one day his system broke. After this he noticed that the trees grew just as well when they were dry so he stopped the irrigation. Today, this whole valley is covered in pine trees and there is a very active forestry industry. The vision of one man has been a truly amazing project. There are still about 10 trees standing on an arid hillside that were leftovers from the past. They look so forlorn standing there all alone.

Today there is a primary school in the town that is devoted to forestry. The children from the surrounding hills live at the school during the week and go home for the weekends. They are unable to travel back and forth everyday because the distance is to great. Some children ride to school on horseback daily. There are about 16 children and there are rough greenhouses behind the school where these children propagate trees and plant them. They are the future.

I wish you could visit this place and see the spirit of the people.

Right now I am in the municipality office. It is the only place in town with internet so they allowed me an office to use. You should have seen me trying to mime what it was that I wanted! All of the employees are gone home for siesta and they just left me here alone. Such trust! Mind you, it pays to befriend the mayor´s girlfriend. She is an angel. I might also add here that I learned this history from the locals and then had to explain it to Sean over lunch. The forestry expert from Canada knew nothing about it!!!!!!!!!!!!! I´m not sure what they are teaching him in that workshop. I am having a lot more fun than him.

The town itself was the home of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when they were fleeing from the law... now I have to watch that movie again. It is built on a steep slope and there is lavender and rosemary planted everywhere. On my way to this office there was an overpowering fragrance of lavender. Such a treat. This is a truly wondrous town with wonderful people.

Greetings in South America

People at this end of the world substitute hand shakes with kisses for greetings. It is weird getting used to it but seeing two women or a man and a woman kissing is not unusual. It is a little disconcerting, tho, to see two men kissing. But last nite was the best one yet. We were having dinner at an outside cafe that was next to a bar where two burly bouncers were keeping watch over the riff raff that were entering. Along comes this mafioso type of dude and the three of them kiss. It was a real National Geographic moment!

Speaking of kissing, it is perfectly normal for young couples to display affection to one another in public. And I mean REAL affection. They are smucking into one another everywhere. You sit on a park bench and a couple sit next to you and they start. They almost suck the faces off of one another. It´s the slopping and slurping noise that gets to me.... it´s like eating next to someone who has their mouth open chewing their food. It´s DISGUSTING!!!!!!!!

Helado (ice cream)

Sean and I travel well together but Jesse and I are more in tune with the laws of eating. Sean just does not get 'ice cream for breakfast' and he does not understand the whole concept of window shopping in pastry shops. It must be something about his military upbringing but he firmly believes that you can´t have dessert till you finish your livers and potatoes. Well, he finally came round this morning and broke down and had an ice cream. Eating ice cream when it is thirty degrees is an art that Jess and I have perfected. He looked like he had been beaten to death by a chocolate fairy by the time he was done. Luckily the shop where we bought it had a wash up area for children or he would have had to go back to the Posada for a shower.

Colonia, Uruguay

After some whining and needling I finally got Sean to consent to border hopping. We took the high speed catamaran to Colonia, Uruguay this afternoon and my, oh my, oh my. Oh... what a spot! Heaven on earth. It is a port city about the size of Deer Lake and extremely picturesque. It is built on a narrow peninsula so you can see water on three sides. The roads and sidewalks are cobblestone and there are huge flowering trees everywhere. And, Connie, if you are reading this, it is a bird watchers paradise. Just to listen to the singing of the birds at dusk was enoough to make the trip for me!

We are staying in the historical section, a place that has gone back in time. Our hotel is one of the original buildings in the city and is like something out of eighteenth century Spain. A beautiful courtyard, rock walls, shutters on the windows.... a storybook setting. The shopping is better than anywhere else I have ever been; the food is to die for and the people are kind and generous to a fault. If anybody were planning a honeymoon vacation, this is the place to visit. We went to the yacht club for dinner (which never takes place till after 8 at night ... and that is an early meal). I had grilled lamb wrapped in bacon and phyllo pastry. I have never had a meal quite like it. The service was excellent and the view stupendous. After that we walked to the town square where a live band was performing with a singer. They were as good as it gets. Incredible. It started to rain so we left to walk home when the singer burst into a spanish rendition of Frank Sinatra´s `I did it My Way´. Wow ! It´ll never be the same again listening to old Frankie! All of the restaurants here sell grilled meats but they grill on charcoal rather than gas. Starting at sunset the smell thruout the city is of the smokiest, yummiest meat that you can imagine. I think I would like to get a job here and stay. I wish you were all here.

Madero Tango

Sean insisted we go to a real tango club so last nite we had his hotel book a dinner show on the waterfront for us. We paid a million dollars for the tickets and when we got there we found out that the table that we had booked was in a back corner where you could not even see the dance floor. So, we paid another million dollars to upgrade. Then we found out that drinks were not included, so we paid another million dollars. At that point the scams started making their rounds.... ¿Photos with the dancers? ¿Video? ¿Flowers? A million dollars each for all of the above. The meal was nothing to write home about. But then!!!!!!!! The dancers started. What a show! It was well worth the thirty million dollars that we spent. Not at all like the tits and ass show that we saw in Spain, Zack. ¿How old were you then, anyway? What a naive mother I was! This was classic tango at its best. And there was a band with 2 accordians, 2 violins, a piano and a bass fiddle. And a male singer. Boy... could he croon! And the band was incredible. It was to die for. Have to go... someone sharking to use the computer. More later.

Repreive from the heat and noise

Last nite the skies opened up and the rain fell. When I say fell, I mean it came straight down, perpendicular to the earth, and bounced off the pavement with such force that it seemed as tho there were a whole different type of weather system going on a foot above ground. I sat on the balcony all morning and read to the pleasant sound of the downpour. The only sound of civilization that could be heard above the roar were the many sirens that are constant in the city and the landing aircraft. All else was drowned. Since the avian world was grounded, all huddled up for shelter, it makes one wonder why aircraft don't take their lead. Surely they understand something that man does not. The thunder and lightening were like nothing I have ever heard. There were a few cracks that made me cringe. I was unsure if they were thunder or crashing aircraft. At noon the wind picked up and the vertical turned to diagonal. From my perch it looked as tho sheets of water were being pushed across the city. The cemetary looked especially cold and bleak.

The storm has ended, the air has cooled and the city has awakened from the lull. Life goes on.

Recoleta Cemetary

Recoleta Cemetary is in the center of Buenos Aires and is filled with the tombs of the wealthy. There is no doubt about it, South Americans appear to be as close to the dead as they are to the living. The money that must have gone into the building of these tombs is often more than we would spend on a home. They could almost be considered vulgar when you consider the expense. Most are built from marble and the smallest would be about the size of my washroom at home. The doors are glass so that you can look thru and see the altars and caskets inside.You can just see marble steps going down to the next level where other members of the family are placed. Many have stained glass windows and roofs that reflect their colors as the sun shines thru. The tombs that still have living family members are well maintained. There are many others whose family members have died off or lost interest and have been vandalized or just allowed to run down. It is rather sad to peer in thru the windows and see fresh roses that have obviously just recently been placed and then to look in thru others only to see them dusty, cobwebbed and descecrated. A few even had chairs where the living sit to be with their departed. We visited Eva Peron's tomb but it was not at all glitzy as you would suspect. She is resting with her family, the Duarte's, not with her husband.

I was reminded while there of the roadside markers of the dead in Chile. There was one that will stick in my mind forever. During the day it looked like a small wooden shed built on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. When we passed it at nite at highway speed I just caught a glimpse of the inside... it was lined with ceiling to floor shelves that held what looked like hundreds of lit candles. Can you imagine loving someone so much that you would make the drive to nowhere every day to be with them. Surely there is a time when one must let go and live what they have left of their own life.

The noise and smell of the city

Coming from little old Newfoundland where the horn on a car is used mostly for greeting, it is quite an experience to be in a place where they consider it a weapon. At any given time there are ten or twelve horns blaring in your ear. I am sure that nobody listens.... at some point you would have to tune out. So what is the point? And the brakes on the buses are constantly screaching and grinding. You can barely hear yourself think.

To accompany that, garbage is collected nightly and there are gangs of people who attack the garbage bags as they are placed outside people's doors. They sit on the sidewalk and scavenge thru them looking for recyclables and anything useful. Before the garbage truck gets to them they look as tho they have been attacked by dogs. These groups of people (often families) parade thru the streets with carts on wheels that are the size of a small car. It often takes two people to push the carts because of their size and weight once they are full. You can only imagine the smell. Last nite when coming back from dinner I stepped over a bag of open leftover food and almost chucked my cookies. The smell was not one I choose to remember.

All of that aside, it just adds to the colour of this city.

We are melting in Buenos Aires

Sorry about the delay in posting. Sean could not bring himself to use the Internet Cafe with the commoners. He was determined to use his own laptop. First we had to find a converter to juice it up and it couldn't take the charge that we needed so we almost burnt the hostel down in the process. The converter melted into the wall but we discovered the boo boo just in time. What a DOUCHE TARD! Anyway, it is working now and the building is still standing.

This city of thirteen million people sounds just like it should. The noise is deafening. The constant trucks, buses, cars and blaring horns is overwhelming. It hasn't interfered with sleeping, tho, because we are both so exhausted from the heat that we pass out when we hit the bed. The temperature makes you feel as tho you are wrapped in a warm, wet blanket. Apologies here to all of you at home who are suffering in the cold and snow.

The flight down was eventful to say the least. It was delayed for the first half hour while the police came to retrieve a rather belligerent latino. I think he may have learned a valuable lesson about verbally abusing women. The next hour and a half of delay was due to mechanical difficulty... just what a nervous flier LOVES to hear. The normally 15 hour flight turned into 17 and by the time we got here my muscles were in spasms from lack of use. I had booked a window seat when booking my ticket and upon arriving at the airport found that I was in the middle of the middle aisle, about as far from a window as you can get. To add insult to injury the tards in the window seats kept their blinds down to block out the sun so they missed the spectacular view of flying over the Andes. Some people are SUCH idiots!

Spent the first day trying to catch up on sleep, but made up for it yesterday. I thought that traipsing thru Chile with Jesse's math books in my backpack was exhausting but hiking around this hot, humid city all day yesterday was debilitating. I am suffering today. Blistered feet and aching calf muscles for me. We visited the Casa Rosada yesterday. It is the main parliament building... the same one where Evita addressed the masses. It is also the place where most protests are carried out and there was one happening yesterday. Not sure what it was about but there were almost as many police as there were protesters. We hope to go back on Thursday when the Madres de la Plaza do their time. These are the mothers of the 'dirty war' victims who march every Thursday. This is just one of the many occurrences that display the passion that Argentines hold dear. Anybody that you talk to about politics say they LOVE their president, Christine. Imagine a Canadian saying that they LOVE their prime minister! We are SO apathetic! You have only to bring up the subject of politics and you are good for a half hour of animated conversation. And, there has never been a woman as revered as Eva Peron. She is an idol here. It is amazing when you think that most people in the world know of her and she was just the lowly wife of a president. Yet she was refused entry to Buckingham Palace and denounced by Time magazine as illegitimate. She obviously did something right to be so well remembered by her people.

The breasts here are pretty outstanding. Either the Argentinian women have the under garment industry cornered or their is a pretty high rate of cosmetic surgery. The breasts are not obnoxiously large like Pamela Anderson's but rather nicely proportioned to the body and look like they are held up on platters under their chins. Sean calls them Platter Boobies. The women walk around in jeans that are so tight I am surprised they are able to move. The business of being a woman here appears to be very superficial. The men are nothing to write home about, tho.

Saw a street Tango yesterday. The gentleman was about 150 years old and did the whole routine with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. The ash didn't even fall off! The girl was about 25 and her attire, what there was of it, was transparent. Sean was very impressed with her platter boobies, which were plainly visible to all.

We took a Tango lesson last nite but had to quit halfway thru before one of us killed the other. It appears that in Tango the man should lead.

We had supper on the waterfront (nothing to write home about) and true to Argentinian fashion, did not eat till eleven at nite. Good thing it was a long walk home and we were able to walk it off. You will be surprised to hear that I have had two steaks so far and neither was as good as what I have eaten at home. I will keep trying, tho.

Our hostel is great! Sean was a tad distressed to discover that they do not fumigate. He did, however, remain calm and not pack and check out immediately. I will spare you of the details but have to say that I was impressed by his ability to ignore what for him must be a challenge. It must be that rosy colored world that he lives in.


Argentina is, to say the least, a colourful country and I am falling in love with it. Can't wait to get to a quieter area tho.

The night before

Well tomorrow I am off on my much awaited vacation to the south.... far south. I meet Sean in Toronto and then we are off to Buenos Aries. I am leaving -20C for 30C... quite the temperature shock. I will be more than happy to get away from the snow and ice of Newfoundland. There has been far too much of it this winter. The greenhouses will left to Cherie and Daddy to manage and I am forever grateful to them both. I couldn't do this without them.... thanx guys. I will post again once I find an internet cafe in Buenos Aries. Ciao.