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.