Colectivos,the what can seem Kamicazzi driven omnibuses that very usefully ply the streets of BA have given me several 'hairy' moments as the coin operated ticket machine that you feed with change to get your journey's ticket consistently rejected my attempts to use my centivos (small change). The queues behind me kept building up with the bus hurtling on its way with the driver muttering as he had to reset the machine time and again whilst in full flight. Today on a quiet trip to the bird reserve I discovered my change included a Brazilian '25 centivos' coin. Eurika!
Another 'eye watering' discovery was that mains water pressure here can cause the centre jet on the bidet to easily hit the 9'0" ceiling of our bathroom! It is not only the colectivos than can have standing room only.
Sunday's trip to San Telmo street market saw me finally succumb to a very tacky tango hat that I'm sure will never be worn in anger or even when dancing tango.
A second visit to the Rio Plata side nature reserve gave a grandstand view of a vast container ship manouvring into dock as well sightings of the very substantial lizards that wandered out from the path side undergrowth.These have the appearance of small crocodiles about 2ft long with similar scaley body.
Irene here: as we journeyed on this almost 3 hour walk the temperature escalated as did the humidity, the whole area was in full sun, the trees giving very little shade. Hat, sips of water etc. gave little respite, when I suddenly remembered my M & S black umbrella rolled up in my bag. Joy - out it came and did the trick, although I did wish it was a gaudy flowery version. A really good looking Argentinian man, just the right age, walking towards me raised his eyebrows and gave me a look. This could certainly not be confused with the Argentinian "come on" I had been warned about. Much more a case of "Mad dogs and English women .............etc.
The evening saw us at a day delayed visit to the Theloneous Jazz Club which was surprisingly good also provided us with a first class supper of Argentinian cheeses, olives and for me two very welcome bottles of Guinness. A real change from tango music and wine.
After midnight saw us hurtling back home in one of the black and yellow taxis accompanied with animated conversation, in Argentinian Spanish about the merits of Maridona's 'hand of God' goal against England and the attributes of Margaret Thatcher; the cabbie looking over his shoulder at us whilst still driving erraticly at alarming speed.
Irene was quiet most of the journey; I think in silent prayer with eyes tight shut, with a strong grip on the seat in front. This is a frequent scenario made all the worse by lack of seat belts, either both parts or if you are lucky to find the long strap you thank God and immediately put it over your shoulder and hold it there for the entire journey in the belief that it will save you in the imminent head on collision. The relief at alighting unscathed cannot be underestimated.
We both slept well last night!
Saturday, 27 December 2008
Saturday 27th December
Christmas day saw us out in the sun in the big local park intent on visiting a rose garden however defeated by a park keepers padlock we with other visitors wend our way back home for a restful evening after last night's late meal. We hadn't counted on Eloise's enthusiasm; she and Maria's granddaughter were going to another Milonga; 'You simply must come, they give a lesson in the tango style you will really like' We agree, again at the due time Eloise in laced up top and granddaughter in shiny hot pants come to call; this sole male being some 90 years, combined, the senior of our two young lady friends. Lesson received from somewhat portly Argentinian tutor, not much different from usual and this venue still reminiscent of Cheam Baths. About 12.30 we leave the younger generations to the continuing night-life. A fast eratic taxi ride home. Boxing day saw us arranging a trip out of BA. The bus station defeated me at first attempt as in excess of 300 differing bus companies vied for trade over what seemed the whole of South America. We opted for a cruise to Uruguay on Tuesday next with a 07.30 start. The bus trip will perhaps be for another day. Today saw Irene going off on her own whilst I visited a big shore line nature reserve. That was interesting with my first view of native animals in the wild. I got back about 2.30 Irene followed shortly thereafter. She had got thoroughly lost! I'll let her tell that tale herself. After booking our awayday cruise we bumped into a couple from the MSC cruiser who recommended A JAZZ CLUB not too far away so that presently is on our agenda for tonight. That was our second chance meeting in Buenos Aires that Boxing day!
Irene here and they say it's a small world! At Buquebus Terminal booking for Uruguay someone suddenly said "oh an English voice" to which we learned not only did she live in England but she lived in a road near sister Viv in Enfield.
My lone excursion today was to the area abutting Faculdad de Medicina where all the bead and fabric shops are situated. Yes fabric shops - I have never seen so many in one area. However on closer scrutiny they sell every kind but the cotton sadly is mostly of inferior quality. People are seen weighed down with great rolls of the stuff obviously taking it to the sweat shops for manufacture. I walked down streets full of hat and sunglasses shops, then others accommodating nothing but toys, then beads, then hair accessories, followed by clothes and underwear shops. I did so much window gazing by the time I stopped I was completely disorientated. Eventually I realised I was going in the totally wrong direction and not one to admit defeat and jump in a taxi I used the Subte (metro) which took me on an unfamiliar line. The carriages must have been the originals with slatted wooden seats and all the inside timber and mirror. If the sliding doors didn't open you had to prise them apart and then jump off when the train was still moving. I avoided this as I had visions of me rolling along the platform. There obviously is a knack - the one you used to alight from a roundabout! The stations were obviously the original 1930s with old white tiling, enamel signage and best of all, ornate wrought iron ticket offices. Although slight panic arose now and again it was well worth it!
Irene here and they say it's a small world! At Buquebus Terminal booking for Uruguay someone suddenly said "oh an English voice" to which we learned not only did she live in England but she lived in a road near sister Viv in Enfield.
My lone excursion today was to the area abutting Faculdad de Medicina where all the bead and fabric shops are situated. Yes fabric shops - I have never seen so many in one area. However on closer scrutiny they sell every kind but the cotton sadly is mostly of inferior quality. People are seen weighed down with great rolls of the stuff obviously taking it to the sweat shops for manufacture. I walked down streets full of hat and sunglasses shops, then others accommodating nothing but toys, then beads, then hair accessories, followed by clothes and underwear shops. I did so much window gazing by the time I stopped I was completely disorientated. Eventually I realised I was going in the totally wrong direction and not one to admit defeat and jump in a taxi I used the Subte (metro) which took me on an unfamiliar line. The carriages must have been the originals with slatted wooden seats and all the inside timber and mirror. If the sliding doors didn't open you had to prise them apart and then jump off when the train was still moving. I avoided this as I had visions of me rolling along the platform. There obviously is a knack - the one you used to alight from a roundabout! The stations were obviously the original 1930s with old white tiling, enamel signage and best of all, ornate wrought iron ticket offices. Although slight panic arose now and again it was well worth it!
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Christmas Eve
The evening before about 9.30 quietly eating our supper in the dining area we were joined by Eloise a young Italian lady who lives and works in Germany. 'What are we doing later? We three or four other young girls from Italy, France and Germany were going to a Milonga'. 'Come with us I will call for you about 11.30' 'Yes!' Why; not its always easy to say no! Finish supper and get into dancing gear; knock on the door at due time, pick up taxi and away. Eloise explains the 'system' at this milonga we have a table and she goes off to join the other girls. Milongas for me sound more exciting than they really are, not up to my dancing days at Loccanno, Orchid, Cats Whiskers, Hammersmith and Wimbledon Palais, let alone the Lyceum. More like a Saturday night dance at Cheam Baths! We have ;a few dances and watch a couple of tango dance exhibitions by some Argentinian oficionados and its already gone 2.30 in the morning. Eloise explains to Irene where she should go to await being asked to dance by the local male talent! Perhaps our cue to think of home and bed; we have a Christmas Eve meal booked for late, what is now this evening! Whisked back home by taxi; yet another new experience!
We arrive at the restaurant about 9.30 for the traditional Argentinian late evening Christmas supper. The restaurant is full by 10.00, traditionally dressed pipers and drummer appear to play medieval style music originating from Galicia and Basque areas; we all clap and sing as the meal goes on. 12 o'clock champagne served and drunk whilst going around the room each toasting one another 'felices navidades and happy Christmas in Spanish English and Swedish. Cards and presents exchanged and fireworks erupt from the street outside. As we were by a window we kept an eye on our neighbours parked car in case the firework lighters got too excited. A fire engine sirens into the street. The party goes on to about 1.30. Good byes all round we go home as the fireworks continue to erupt. Sleep overtakes us as the bangs and flashes continue into the night.
We arrive at the restaurant about 9.30 for the traditional Argentinian late evening Christmas supper. The restaurant is full by 10.00, traditionally dressed pipers and drummer appear to play medieval style music originating from Galicia and Basque areas; we all clap and sing as the meal goes on. 12 o'clock champagne served and drunk whilst going around the room each toasting one another 'felices navidades and happy Christmas in Spanish English and Swedish. Cards and presents exchanged and fireworks erupt from the street outside. As we were by a window we kept an eye on our neighbours parked car in case the firework lighters got too excited. A fire engine sirens into the street. The party goes on to about 1.30. Good byes all round we go home as the fireworks continue to erupt. Sleep overtakes us as the bangs and flashes continue into the night.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Tentative tango
First efforts at Tango in a group are bad enough but at a public Milonga it needs a great deal more nerve. Last Friday at 11.30pm we walked over the railway bridge to a rather austere municipal building. A most unlikely venue for a "knees up" but we were told to "just follow the music". With our new shoes to hand we crossed the threshold and were shown through a door to a large, imposing room, the rear and perimeter crammed with tables and chairs. It was, like everywhere else in BA, heaving with people.
We were ushered to an inconspicuous table (much to my relief) and there we sat absorbing this totally new experience. We donned the shoes to show willing but were mentally transported to those first tentative steps all those years ago at our first dances. "We'll definitely have a go at the next one". The invitation to dance is so fine tuned as to be solely base on discreet eye contact and assent so as to not be discernible by an outsider. At a Milonga you are expected to dance to a set of four tunes then the music changes radically and the ladies are escorted back to their seats. I then "took a turn" with another resident from Caseron Porteno - a novice like us which temporarily gave me some much needed Dutch courage. Brian and I did make the effort but I could feel the notorious spectating gossips burning holes in my back! However, we have now had some private tuition, learned some essential techniques and feel ready for our next venture out, hopefully to one of the open air Milongas in a local park.
Argentinian Tango is like no other dance; the whole concept of the man leading the woman, not by strength but by gentle direction and support allowing the space for her to follow and perform the steps is quite beautiful even for a couple of novices!
We were ushered to an inconspicuous table (much to my relief) and there we sat absorbing this totally new experience. We donned the shoes to show willing but were mentally transported to those first tentative steps all those years ago at our first dances. "We'll definitely have a go at the next one". The invitation to dance is so fine tuned as to be solely base on discreet eye contact and assent so as to not be discernible by an outsider. At a Milonga you are expected to dance to a set of four tunes then the music changes radically and the ladies are escorted back to their seats. I then "took a turn" with another resident from Caseron Porteno - a novice like us which temporarily gave me some much needed Dutch courage. Brian and I did make the effort but I could feel the notorious spectating gossips burning holes in my back! However, we have now had some private tuition, learned some essential techniques and feel ready for our next venture out, hopefully to one of the open air Milongas in a local park.
Argentinian Tango is like no other dance; the whole concept of the man leading the woman, not by strength but by gentle direction and support allowing the space for her to follow and perform the steps is quite beautiful even for a couple of novices!
Monday, 22 December 2008
Monday, HSBC banking Argentinian style
It seemed like a good idea to go to the bank to have money for Christmas albeit our Christmas day meal is booked and paid for. Arrived at HSBC branch about 13.00 something, with Euros to change and passport at the ready. Fairly quickly got the latest exchange rate and conversion done; great! 'Just go and join that line of people over there and wait for a cashier'. Twenty or so people ahead in an orderly line stoically waiting; then HSBC's Argentinian network gives a hick-up; cashiers seem to go into 'underdrive' the line ahead decreases slowly, very, very slowly. No moaning and groaning from anyone, just standing in a quiet line waiting; probably by about 2 o'clock I arrive at a till, I hand over passport, Euros and exchange rate info. HSBC's computer system gives a final cough and dies, the cashier shrugs, turns the screen to show the blank panel, the system is down for 20 minutes I am told would I like to go and wait while 'efectivo' cash transactions are slowly progressed. Others needing electronic arrangements show the first hardly noticeable signs of emotion. I'm stuck with passport and Euros the other side of the security screen. Two hours later with bank locked up around me and 30 other trapped customers, the cashiers/system seemingly decide that if they are going home themselves perhaps the transactions can be done manually. I escape at 16.00, stunned at every one's and my own patience and good humour! Welcome to Argentina.
Rest of the afternoon and early evening with Irene discovering row after row of fabric emporia, Argentinian, Jewish, Chinese, Hindu, native south American Indian, etc. etc. shop after, shop after shop. En route home Irene to a supermarket and me to bookshop where delightful young Argentinian man takes so much trouble to find and Christmas wrap a book that all the fiasco at the bank experience has lost importance.
Rest of the afternoon and early evening with Irene discovering row after row of fabric emporia, Argentinian, Jewish, Chinese, Hindu, native south American Indian, etc. etc. shop after, shop after shop. En route home Irene to a supermarket and me to bookshop where delightful young Argentinian man takes so much trouble to find and Christmas wrap a book that all the fiasco at the bank experience has lost importance.
Saturday, 20 December 2008
Friday of our second week.
This is the least like a holiday we have ever had. We seem to have been absorbed into the place in some odd way. We felt sure the key was this B&B house, its ours and others, albeit, temporary ordinary home, for so many ages and nationalities; we go out from here and return each day. A young Argentinian lady, from Patagonia whose accented Spanish totally defeated my attempts to understand her words, extolled to us the virtues of vegetarian food, very strange in Argentina, went out and bought sample meals for us to cook before she left for home today. That is just one of many links that exist in just living here, the laundrette man, the Coto supermarket check out girl without even thinking of our ever-present housekeeper Maria, walking linked arms with us to the green grocers to get the mornings oranges.
Last night's meeting with the Argentinian English speakers was another example.
We just walked in; an extra table was added to the existing ring of tables and chairs and we were part of the mix of 20 plus, and the conversation burbled on.
'Are we all going to talk at once or discuss together as a group?' vainly called out the nominal chairman. Most conversations subsided one persisted ........ 'He's deaf confided the chairman and can only hear himself speak!' The topics ranged from politics, to war, the economy, the nation states, no topic seemed beyond the pale. What on earth decided you to come to this place? You should have had more sense! Was a light-hearted response to account of our travels to date; no Jingoism here. More nice open people, nice ordinary new friends to meet in the street with a kiss to each cheek. Emails exchanged to receive to keep us in the loop as next meeting days are changed to suit the imminent festivities. From the assembly cafe meeting point to a kerb side meal, a bit smelly at times as cars parked near by; but great vantage point to observe Portenos' parking techniques; if the gaps not big enough:just shunt the other cars ahead and astern along a bit; it works a bit like a pin-ball machine!
Thursday saw us at the British Embassy with Irene much comforted by a portrait of Liz hanging in the reception; security tight with cameras and 'phones confiscated and access to loos denied.
British residents records passed over up until the time they were dealt with by the Argentinian authorities but four possible family name uncovered and other venues to follow up.
Tonight our first milonga. It doesn't start until 11.00 pm, long after Brian's normal horlicks time.
Last night's meeting with the Argentinian English speakers was another example.
We just walked in; an extra table was added to the existing ring of tables and chairs and we were part of the mix of 20 plus, and the conversation burbled on.
'Are we all going to talk at once or discuss together as a group?' vainly called out the nominal chairman. Most conversations subsided one persisted ........ 'He's deaf confided the chairman and can only hear himself speak!' The topics ranged from politics, to war, the economy, the nation states, no topic seemed beyond the pale. What on earth decided you to come to this place? You should have had more sense! Was a light-hearted response to account of our travels to date; no Jingoism here. More nice open people, nice ordinary new friends to meet in the street with a kiss to each cheek. Emails exchanged to receive to keep us in the loop as next meeting days are changed to suit the imminent festivities. From the assembly cafe meeting point to a kerb side meal, a bit smelly at times as cars parked near by; but great vantage point to observe Portenos' parking techniques; if the gaps not big enough:just shunt the other cars ahead and astern along a bit; it works a bit like a pin-ball machine!
Thursday saw us at the British Embassy with Irene much comforted by a portrait of Liz hanging in the reception; security tight with cameras and 'phones confiscated and access to loos denied.
British residents records passed over up until the time they were dealt with by the Argentinian authorities but four possible family name uncovered and other venues to follow up.
Tonight our first milonga. It doesn't start until 11.00 pm, long after Brian's normal horlicks time.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)