Alright, BA, you get another chance, since we have to fly out of you anyway.
We arrive on the ferry from Uruguay at around noon. At the nice terminal, in the nice new waterfront area. It's hot and humid, but the city looks pleasant and summery. Alright, maybe we were too quick to judge BA. All we need to do is hop on the subway and it will take as clear across the city and drop us at our hostel in a cool neighbourhood. We're prepared.
6 blocks walk to the red line. The gate is locked. All the gates are locked. Hmm, maybe the station is closed - walk to the next station. All gates locked. No signs, no indication of a problem. Alright, let's walk a dozen blocks (with 2 packs each in the noon sun) to the green line since that's what we want anyway. All gates locked. What the hell? Ask at a tourist info kiosk - yes, the subways are all on strike today. Crap.
Traffic is gridlocked around the obelisk where we are. We could get in a cab and pay an outrageous amount to go nowhere. Or we could get on a bus, maybe sit or maybe stand, and go nowhere. Or we could do something crazy, channeling our inner Canuck and hike with two packs apiece across the entire city to our hostel. Let's do it.
It was damned hot, and a long way (over 2 hours of walking city streets through crowds). But it was also a welcome bit of exercise combined with a satisfying way to thumb our noses at BA and its always-suspect transportation options.
To be fair, once we finally arrived at our hostel and had cold showers, we had a really fun tango lesson at our hostel that night. And I had a very decent steak afterwards. But it's just not enough, BA. The magic is gone - in fact, it was never there. We're done with you, it's over. Maybe you should find someone who is more into partying at 6am, or who is involved in some trendy local scene we're not aware of. But it's just not us.
And to be clear, it's not us - it's you.
Now give us our sweater back, take your toothbrush out of our bathroom, and let's try to be civil about this. Thanks.
Oh, and if you could give us a trouble-free ride to the airport on the way out, that would be a nice gesture.
Showing posts with label Buenos Aires. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buenos Aires. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Friday, November 30, 2012
Buenos Aires, Let's Start Over
As Chad has pointed out, we didn't have the greatest welcome to Buenos Aires. Over the next few days we gave it a chance to redeem itself, as we wandered about soaking up atmosphere and seeing the sights.
It was a Sunday, so there were mostly only other tourists about as we wandered through the somewhat empty Microcentro (the business district). We started in the Plaza de Mayo,
The next neighbourhood we visited was Puerto Madero, a recently revitalized waterfront area. In the mid-19th century this area was turned into a modern port for Argentina's growing international commerce but within 12 years the amount of cargo was already too great for the port.
Our friends Luke and Grace write in their blog about how after six months in Asia they grew 'templed out'. The McFrothys are marketed out. Since it was right in our neighbourhood, we visited the Feria de San Telmo. Although they did have some different goods to what we've seen before, we didn't linger too long in the busy streets. [Chad: and the goods repeated every block.]
More wandering ensued...
Then a walk through the upscale Retiro area (though you are warned not to go behind its train station, as apparently there are slums back there).
The next day we saw a bit more sunshine and set out again.
We spent some time in the famous Cementerio de la Recoleta, where the 'streets' are lined with huge tombs and lovely statues.
Finally we headed up to the neighbourhood of Palermo (like a grittier Yaletown) to spend the afternoon. This was our favourite spot, and where we will probably stay when we return to Buenos Aires before flying home. Apparently we were too busy looking around to take many pictures...
After three days we still didn't love Buenos Aires, or even like it all that much. The day we left for Uruguay, Argentina was having a general strike (apparently Argentinians love to strike) meaning that many busses and trains were cancelled, as well as all domestic flights. There were many closed roads, protests in the streets, and broken windows showing on television as we ate our breakfast. It was the perfect time to escape!
It was a Sunday, so there were mostly only other tourists about as we wandered through the somewhat empty Microcentro (the business district). We started in the Plaza de Mayo,
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| These amazing purple blossoms were on trees all over the city. |
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| Apparently the current Argentinian president (usually called only by her first name, Cristina) is stoking the flames of controversy over the Falkland Islands ownership again. If you talk to an Argentinian, they're the Islas Malvinas. |
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| Casa Rosada, which contains Cristina's offices. From the balconies politicians (including Evita) have preached to their people; true to history, Madonna sang from here in the movie Evita. |
The next neighbourhood we visited was Puerto Madero, a recently revitalized waterfront area. In the mid-19th century this area was turned into a modern port for Argentina's growing international commerce but within 12 years the amount of cargo was already too great for the port.
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| Two former naval ships serve as museums. |
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| Chad crosses the bridge across the waterway. |
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| Construction continues... this area is kind of like a more commercial Coal Harbour. |
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| This compass points south instead of north. |
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| We actually thought these very colourfully dressed old ladies were statues until they started moving! It was just naptime, apparently. |
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| Chad makes friends with his potential dinner (don't worry, it's not real). |
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| On the bow of a ship that came to the rescue of a stranded Antarctic expedition many years ago |
Our friends Luke and Grace write in their blog about how after six months in Asia they grew 'templed out'. The McFrothys are marketed out. Since it was right in our neighbourhood, we visited the Feria de San Telmo. Although they did have some different goods to what we've seen before, we didn't linger too long in the busy streets. [Chad: and the goods repeated every block.]
 |
| We did, however, stay long enough for this guy to make us a freshly squeezed orange juice. |
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| What do you think? Should he buy one or not? |
More wandering ensued...
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| Evita looms large atop this building. On the other side she speaks into a microphone. |
Then a walk through the upscale Retiro area (though you are warned not to go behind its train station, as apparently there are slums back there).
 |
| The tower in the background was a gift from the Brits to the Argentinians. Nice gift, though it didn't exactly sooth relations between the two. |
The next day we saw a bit more sunshine and set out again.
We spent some time in the famous Cementerio de la Recoleta, where the 'streets' are lined with huge tombs and lovely statues.
 |
| This is Evita's grave, probably the most visited but certainly less impressive than some of the others. |
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| We wondered whether the dog is buried here too? |
Finally we headed up to the neighbourhood of Palermo (like a grittier Yaletown) to spend the afternoon. This was our favourite spot, and where we will probably stay when we return to Buenos Aires before flying home. Apparently we were too busy looking around to take many pictures...
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| Chad's lunch time desert - dulce de leche ice cream. |
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| These unfriendly looking tracks run through Palermo. But I promise, it's much nicer than this. |
Unwelcome Buenos Aires
[A bit behind & playing catch-up again...]
Bus from El Chalten to El Calafate airport, then on to Buenos Aires. We had heard so many good things!
At the airport, you can take a cab (expensive) or shuttle (expensive) or city bus (direct and $0.50 each). Bus it is.
We went to the government-run information/tourist desk to ask about buses. A surly young woman "assisted" us.
"Can you buy tickets to the bus here in the airport terminal?"
"No, you need to pay on the bus, exact change in coins only."
"What if we do not have coins?"
"Then you cannot get on the bus." <Blank stare>
<Stunned silence>
"OK, um, well... we have Argentine money, just not coins. Where can we get coins to use on the bus?"
"I do not know. Maybe buy something."
We needed only one more coin, worth less than $0.15. So we went to a kiosk, looking for change. The kiosk employee said no change for the bus, you have to buy something. OK... uh... TicTacs then (for $1.50 [Sarah: much to my delight, TicTacs in Argentina are usually less than 50 cents!]). We give him a 10 peso bill. He gives us a 5 peso bill in change. Um no - we just told you we needed coins! No, no coins. Ugh, just give us our money back then.
Walking up and down the concourse we didn't see any better opportunities for change - everything was horribly expensive and not change-friendly. The guidebook was correct that people in BA horde their almost value-less change like it's bullion. Then Sarah had a good idea - we went back to the kiosk and handed the employee three 2-peso bills for the 5-peso TicTacs; the only possible change was a 1-peso coin, which we needed. The young employee gave a subtle, wry smirk as he handed over the coin. It was all I could do not to flip him off for being such a dick, but my "good ambassador" behaviour held on.
Off to the bus, which was quick and cheap and took us within a few blocks of our hostel - people on the bus even advised us which stop to take. Ahh, like many cities, BA the city appeared to be better than the airport would suggest.
We got off the bus and put on our packs with rain covers. There was no possibility of rain, but our guidebook said that a common scam was for someone to throw crap on your pack, then another person to point it out and offer to help clean it off, while pickpocketing you. This seemed far-fetched - until we ran into a British couple earlier in our travels whom this had happened to, and they had then bought rain covers to protect their packs. It was a Sunday and quiet, so it didn't seem like there was much risk of this happening.
About a block from our hostel, I was keeping an occasional lookout at a young guy behind us - then as we turned a corner, Sarah said, "you have a bunch of stuff on your pack." Sure enough, I had a bunch of yellow-brown smelly crap all over my rain cover. I looked at Sarah, and she had even more, which had dripped onto her jeans as well. Clearly the dude following us had chucked some fluid at us then peeled off. Just then, a young woman said - in English - "hey, you have all this stuff on your packs." We stared her off as we kept walking. All this in full view of the guards at national government installation directly across the street.
The sour-smelling crap washed off the covers easily enough. But after a long travel day, we were wholly unimpressed with BA at this point. Our hostel owner was very nice, but barely even recognized we had been the targets of garbage throwing - clearly it's a common occurrence for people heading to her hostel, and is "just one of those Latin American things." Right.
Then she cheerily pointed out that from our San Telmo location, we were not to walk either SW or NW, because those were terrible areas even during the day and we would likely be robbed.
Why do people like this city? So far it seemed like Paris 40 years after a zombie flu outbreak, but with none of the charm.
Fair warning: all the locals shopping at the grocery store, heading to school, etc. either carry their backpacks facing forward on their chests, or have rain covers for them. As far as I can see, if you carry any sort of baggage more than a couple of blocks in Buenos Aires, it's more likely than not you will have crap thrown on you (or depending what area you're in, they might not waste time and steal from you directly instead).
Bus from El Chalten to El Calafate airport, then on to Buenos Aires. We had heard so many good things!
At the airport, you can take a cab (expensive) or shuttle (expensive) or city bus (direct and $0.50 each). Bus it is.
We went to the government-run information/tourist desk to ask about buses. A surly young woman "assisted" us.
"Can you buy tickets to the bus here in the airport terminal?"
"No, you need to pay on the bus, exact change in coins only."
"What if we do not have coins?"
"Then you cannot get on the bus." <Blank stare>
<Stunned silence>
"OK, um, well... we have Argentine money, just not coins. Where can we get coins to use on the bus?"
"I do not know. Maybe buy something."
We needed only one more coin, worth less than $0.15. So we went to a kiosk, looking for change. The kiosk employee said no change for the bus, you have to buy something. OK... uh... TicTacs then (for $1.50 [Sarah: much to my delight, TicTacs in Argentina are usually less than 50 cents!]). We give him a 10 peso bill. He gives us a 5 peso bill in change. Um no - we just told you we needed coins! No, no coins. Ugh, just give us our money back then.
Walking up and down the concourse we didn't see any better opportunities for change - everything was horribly expensive and not change-friendly. The guidebook was correct that people in BA horde their almost value-less change like it's bullion. Then Sarah had a good idea - we went back to the kiosk and handed the employee three 2-peso bills for the 5-peso TicTacs; the only possible change was a 1-peso coin, which we needed. The young employee gave a subtle, wry smirk as he handed over the coin. It was all I could do not to flip him off for being such a dick, but my "good ambassador" behaviour held on.
Off to the bus, which was quick and cheap and took us within a few blocks of our hostel - people on the bus even advised us which stop to take. Ahh, like many cities, BA the city appeared to be better than the airport would suggest.
We got off the bus and put on our packs with rain covers. There was no possibility of rain, but our guidebook said that a common scam was for someone to throw crap on your pack, then another person to point it out and offer to help clean it off, while pickpocketing you. This seemed far-fetched - until we ran into a British couple earlier in our travels whom this had happened to, and they had then bought rain covers to protect their packs. It was a Sunday and quiet, so it didn't seem like there was much risk of this happening.
About a block from our hostel, I was keeping an occasional lookout at a young guy behind us - then as we turned a corner, Sarah said, "you have a bunch of stuff on your pack." Sure enough, I had a bunch of yellow-brown smelly crap all over my rain cover. I looked at Sarah, and she had even more, which had dripped onto her jeans as well. Clearly the dude following us had chucked some fluid at us then peeled off. Just then, a young woman said - in English - "hey, you have all this stuff on your packs." We stared her off as we kept walking. All this in full view of the guards at national government installation directly across the street.
 |
| Chad's pack cover |
 |
| Sarah's pack cover |
The sour-smelling crap washed off the covers easily enough. But after a long travel day, we were wholly unimpressed with BA at this point. Our hostel owner was very nice, but barely even recognized we had been the targets of garbage throwing - clearly it's a common occurrence for people heading to her hostel, and is "just one of those Latin American things." Right.
Then she cheerily pointed out that from our San Telmo location, we were not to walk either SW or NW, because those were terrible areas even during the day and we would likely be robbed.
Why do people like this city? So far it seemed like Paris 40 years after a zombie flu outbreak, but with none of the charm.
Fair warning: all the locals shopping at the grocery store, heading to school, etc. either carry their backpacks facing forward on their chests, or have rain covers for them. As far as I can see, if you carry any sort of baggage more than a couple of blocks in Buenos Aires, it's more likely than not you will have crap thrown on you (or depending what area you're in, they might not waste time and steal from you directly instead).
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