Cordoba

Buenos Dias from Cordoba, the city of Che Guevara and Nalbandian. The Gringos have made it past the milestone of one month. Great Success!

Monday

After the longest busride we've endured so far (admittedly it was only a 14-hour one), we arrived in a very chilly and wintery Cordoba (check the map to see where it is). We took a taxi to the center of town and found the hostel where we had a reservation - Baluch Hostel, founded by some Israeli travellers who never went home. The hostel was on perhaps the busiest street in Cordoba and it was bustling with young travellers. Our room was not ready yet so we took the tour of the hostel and then sat on the rooftop terrace with a cup of coffee to try and defrost (it was honestly about 5 degrees in the sun).

After getting settled in our room we decided to go explore the town and get orientated. We all immediately loved the city because of its vibrant atmosphere, friendly people and charming streets and buildings. We then decided to go find something really ethnic and local to eat and Fausto, having been to Cordoba before, told us he knew just the place. After finishing our BigMacs and dealing with the McStomachAche set in and so we decided to go back to the hostel to partake in the everyday tradition of the Siesta. We were in a 4-bed dorm but as of yet no one else had checked in. All that changed when young Gordon, a flamboyant Canadian from Calgary who was very proud to be Canadian. Despite all this, we ended up quite liking our roommate. We then ordered empanadas and ate them. An Empanada bears a slight resemblance to a smallish pie/samoosa but it is neither of these things. They are usually half-moon shaped and filled with all kinds of magical ingredients. They are also only 2 pesos. We really like Empanadas. We chilled (freezed) out on the roof terrace with the other inhabitants of the hostel and got to know the Israelies I mean other diverse travellers around. So far we have encountered far more Israelies than all other nationalities combined (Aussies, Brits, Canadians, Yanks, Dutchmen (the real Dutchmen), Swedes, Fins, Poles, Poledancers, a surprising amount of Irishmen, and a Kiwi. Everyone was having a good time until Liam, the 'other' Canadian in the hostel had too much Fernet and began insulting everyone's mothers, speaking far too loudly, explaining for 2 hours the intracacies of the phrase 'fuckin A', enlightening everyone with his so called literary knowledge, teasing a Pole, and generally just being a tosser. Liam did not make a good first impression, and Gordon, slightly embarrased, was quick to explain that they were from different parts of Canada.

Tuesday

Today we wandered around the city again and saw some of its cathedrals, museums, galleries, and streets bustling with many not-too-bad-looking people. We have discovered that Fausto's name is far less exotic in Argentina than it is in South Africa. After looking at the Hotel Faustino, and eating more empanadas from Don Fausto's Empanadas, we toured Nueva Cordoba, the university district (there are 7 here), and slowly made our way to the main Plaza, where we were fetched by Emilse and Gustavo. Gustavo is an old friend of Aurelio (emodad/PapaFonz) and Emilse is his "marrida" (Steve's bad Spanish grammar). They took us back to their house in the suburbs and we were immediatly overwhelmed by their hospitality and friendliness. We had a tea of crossiants and the ubiquitous criollo, with dulce de leche (delicious caramelish spread which Steve eats too much of). We then met the whole family - the beautiful daughters Azusena and Florencia, Juan Cruz the eldest of the bunch, and Gustavito son of Gustavo, Flavia Juan Cruz's girlfriend, and the insanely cute Juanito Ignacio, their son. They all did some serious welcoming.

Emilce dropped us back in town, near our local supermarket where we purchased some pasta, chorizo and wine. In theory our dinner was to be fantastically delicious, but the "fresh" pasta we bought went rather sticky and our dinner fell woefully short of the mark. The wine was great. We chilled out in our dorm room and got to know Gordon a bit better, before getting an early night.

Wednesday

Woke up earlyish and took a bus to the nearby lakeside town of Villa Carlos Paz. We arrived and, like real locals, headed straight for the tourism office. The guy behind the desk had clearly dreamed of being a tourism officer his whole life and he explained everything we needed to see in the town, in Spanish, in under a minute. It was inspiring. We walked around alongside the lake for far too long (we discovered that lakes get a bit old quite quickly), got slightly angry with each other because we were hungry, so we found a place to have our first Milanesa (Argentina's answer to the WienerSchnitzel mit Pomme Fritte unt Salat). Carlos Paz is famous for its giant 2-story Cuckoo clock, and so we made our way across the river to see just how interesting a big clock could be. It was no more interesting than a small clock. Far more interesting was a guy dragging his ass across the street. However, we noticed that the hour of 3pm was approaching and realised this meant only one thing - the Cuckoo would emerge not once, but 3 times. As 3 O'Clock approached, we sat in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the arrivial of the cuckoo. 3 o'clock came and went, sans Cuckoo. The bastard was asleep - as it turns out, everyone, including the clocks, partake in the custom of siesta. While many tourists were staring at the giant 2 story clock with their cameras out ready for a cuckoo who was not coming out, Steve asked a man for the time (a man who was staring at a giant clock) and he put his camera down so that he could look at his watch. Classic. We soon realised that Cuckoo was dead, and so was the town, so we became despondent and hastliy left the town.

That evening we decided we really wanted some local cuisine, so we found a Chinese takeaway, China Wok, on the map and, after being offered the delivery service, we decided to walk (wok) 15 blocks so that we could enjoy our food in a nice chinese restaurant. As it turned out, ChinaWok is a delivery-only restaurant run out of one tiny room, so after telling the guy (to his face, not over the phone) to deliver the food to our hands, we chilled in the local park and ate our delicious local chinese cuisine. We had planned to go out for real that night, and since it was only 10pm, we had lots of time to kill before the bars and clubs would open (at 3am). We took a slow walk back to the hostel where we sat and actively passed the time while Gordon gave us a lesson on Canada and its musical greatness (Celine Dion, Brian Adams, Alanis, Nelly Furtado, Sum41, Avril Lavigne... all from Canada! Wow!) We were determined not too repeat our past mistakes and go out too early. We went out too early. However, we did not give up this time, and at about 2pm we found a very informative and up-to-the-minute club called CNN Disco, which sported a completely original logo. We sampled some Argentinian drinks, most notably Green Fernet (mint-infused fernet with Sprite, which, by the way, is freakin delicious), and Gancia (also naat bad). We got an early night and got home at 5am, leaving a packed club full of bemused locals who wondered why we were leaving halfway through the night.

Thursday

After our big night, we needed some hangover food, so we bought a Lomito from the corner shop. Little did we know we had just bought the Worst Lomito in Argentina. These awful snacks ruined our day and so we sat around doing nothing, lamenting our misspent morning and plotting the murder of the man who made those lomitos. That evening Gustavito, Flor and Azu fetched us and took us shopping before going to eat pizza. We have discovered that, despite the Italian influence, Pizza in Argentina consists of bread and lots of cheese, and not much else. It sucks. We are still having trouble adapting to dinnertime here, which is usually at 10:30pm. We got dropped back at the hostel and chilled out.

Friday

Early in the morning (10am) we were woken by what sounded like the girl who worked at the reception desk at the hostel. It was the girl who works at the reception desk at the hostel, and she was informing us that we had only booked places in the dorm until friday and that we had to check out today, at 10:30am. What a lus. Since there was no more room at the inn, Gustavo and family kindly agreed to put us up for the weekend, but said they would only pick us up later that evening. We packed up our stuff, left our bags in the hostel and walked around the busy downtown streets just outside the hostel. It was in one of the shops on this street that Nadia finally, after a month-long search, found shoes suitable for both the mean streets of the various cities we see and for the strenuous Machu Pichu climb in July. She had packed one pair of flipflops, which she replaced in Brazil, and one pair of not-very-good shoes, which Steve had approved of but which were pretty kak. Anyway her new shoes are far better. I'm not sure if you guys care much about the shoes we are wearing, but we thought we'd ramble on about it a bit. Hmmm... Next we had lunch at Johnny B Good, a local chain of steakhouses/bars where they offer "Good Times and Funny Meals". Cane, an aussie we met whom we liked very much, decided to join us for lunch. Cane does a very good Kiwi accent and also bears an uncanny resemblance to Nicholas Haagensen. In fact, we think it may have just been Nick putting on an aussie accent.

We then went back to the hostel and met some more Israelis. One of them informed us that there are 20 000 Israeli travellers in South America (wow!); Israel must be pretty empty right now. Apparently everyone travels in South America after the army service and to Asia after University, and there are even special Israeli hostels around (who would want to go travelling to only meet Israelis? 20 000 Israelis, thats who). Emilce and Flor then picked us up and took us back to their place, where we moved in and began to pass the time by eatng empanadas because planned to once again attempt a night out. At about 2pm we left the house and went to a bar called Contender, a cool vibey place where we drank Fernet and played pool till the wee hours. Finally a successful night! (Although to be fair we did not have the huevos to go clubbing).

Saturday

Woke up early today to try and watch the Arsenal game, but for some reason the tv people had chosen not to show the greatest team in the world, so we went back to sleep, only to rise late and eat more crossaints with dulce de leche (this is the standard breakfast here). We hung around and did some admin on the internet before watching a feeble Man United dribble out a draw against a brave and spirited blackburn side (who deserved to beat those seal clubbing Mancs - Fausto is busy on his phone right now so steve is taking the opportunity to slate Man U...) Emilce then made us her famous Milanesa's and Fausto made his not so famous or exotic but equally delicious mashed potato. We had a huuuge siesta until 8pm, did some laundry, chilled with the family and friends outside. Steve and Fonz put on some hats and soon everyone was wearing hats and being rather silly. Fausto then tried his hand at going to a club but returned at 4am without success. Nevertheless he had a good night at Johnny B Good (despite the funny meals), although he claims he had The Worst Mojito in the World.

Sunday

Early awakening because the Gustavo Clan planned to take us on a Brokeback Mountain Gaucho adventure to their place in the countryside. Steve was naaat feeling so good, but after being called a 'Wet Chicken' ('Chicken Wet') repeatedly and given some local remedy, he bucked up and was alright. After a 2 hour drive to the beautiful countryside (it combines free-state grassland with drakensburg hills and large lakes - not bad eh?), we arrived at the 'Campo', their stone country cottage where we had a large assado (braai). On the menu were such delicious treats as Morcilla (blood sausage) and Chinchulin (cow's intestines), but also some tasty ribs and steak. The Great Plains look of the countryside, combined with the large amounts of meat, was getting us into Gaucho mode and soon we were full on brokebackmountaining it (minus the homosexuality). The place was one of the most beautiful places you could imagine, with crystal clear icy rivers (which Fonz and Steve heroically swam in while battling thousands of hungry leeches) and isolated areas of riverbeachsand where we passed the afternoon in the sun with Azu and Flor. On the way home, Steve wouldnt let go of the cowboy image and so sat in the back of the bakkie (Gustavo has a lank kief bakkie) we stopped in Villa Belgrano, a town full of Germans (probably ex-nazis who fled to Argentina to escape the warcrimes court, but we wont hold that against them because they made us some nice coffee). After a most-awesome day in the country, and a kareoke car ride home, we eventually arrived back in Cordoba, rather exhausted but satisfied.

We are all in pretty good health, our spirits are high, and we are all getting along (apart from this morning when Steve decided not to have his morning coffee and cigarette and was very grumpy). The Gringos are beginning to speak some good Spanish, except for the occaisional misunderstanding which can lead to some funny situations (like Fausto trying to tell Flor he wanted to lie down, but actually telling her he wanted to sleep with her; or Steve misunderstanding a conversation and informing everyone that the third biggest tribe of the South American natives was in fact The Beegees). We've got an eventful week planned, and with Fonz's dad coming to visit Cordoba on wednesday, and two of the gringos moving onto Buenos Aires on thursday night, it promises to be a good one.

We'll keep you posted.

Lots of love and besos,

The Gringos

PS: Photos are up on picasa here http://picasaweb.google.com/steveo.zogg/CordobaPart1