Time flies when you're..... unemployed.

Yesterday Kate and I traveled to San Isidro which is a suburb of Buenos Aires and is considered picturesque.  We wandered through the local summer market and through some of the residential streets which featured some beautiful mature growth trees and mansions

I left Kate in San Isidro and hot footed it back to Buenos Aires (and skipped out on train fare!!).  I had tennis lesson #3 with a new coach-- Anna from Chicago.  She was both polite and kind of horrified at my tennis skills.  But she didn't yell or act exasperated like some people (ahem... Daniel) and she actually taught me a few tricks that I think helped me.  I'm started to get my timing down a little better.  I'm not sore today, however, and I wonder what this says about Anna.....  Daniel would clearly find her deficient.

Kate and I started out today with a routine trip to breakfast spot #2, Las Cortaderas.  I think they have fine medialunas.  Kate would go to La Imprenta every day if I let her.  I don't let her.  Please enjoy the eye candy at Las Cortaderas (some photos courtesy of Kate):

We had no specific plans for the day-- we thought we might try to catch a movie because it was supposed to rain.  We sat in Las Cortaderas for hours and by the time we were ready to leave, it had stopped raining and the skies were blue!!!  Kate needed to hit the ATM and we found one a few blocks away.  [Insert obligatory story about helpless old Argentine lady who can't get the ATM to work and thinks we can help her but we can't understand a word she says.]  Then we thought we'd walk a few blocks to find a special store that interested Kate.  Once we found the store, we thought we could just hop on the Subte and check out the Botanical Gardens.  Once we found the Botanical Gardens and wandered around, we couldn't pass up the chance to sit on a bench and read.  [In case you're curious, Kate is reading Lit by Mary Karr and I'm reading At Home: A Short History of Private Life by Bill Bryson.]  And then, without notice, the day was over!

[A sign we saw on our walk which says (roughly): Friend, I respect your political ideas, your favorite musicians, your soccer team, and your sweethearts.  Please, respect my walls and don't write on them.  Thanks."

[A view of the whole wall]

[The wall directly across the street.  I guess the sign worked!]

Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

We woke up in Montevideo to discover two interesting things.  1.) The Queen Mary II had docked at the port during the night.  Kate rode the Queen Mary I on its penultimate transatlantic voyage on her way to study abroad in France, so she wasn't very impressed.  This version of the Queen Mary is stunningly large and so extravagant next to Montevideo's working port.

2.) The Plaza de Independencia betrayed nothing of the previous night's wild activity.  Like Buenos Aires, Montevideo is kept clean by a large group of city garbage workers.  They aren't necessary employed by the city or unionized, but they all have uniforms and are loosely affiliated with each other, dividing up territories so as not to overlap.  They roam assigned neighborhoods with push carts and more often than not, horse drawn carriages.  They sort through garbage which can entail breaking apart plastic garbage bags and looking for plastic and cardboard.  They haul away the rest of the garbage to a dump and bring the cardboard and plastic to be weighed and sold for re-purposing.  They are also apparently adept at removing small bits of confetti from cracked sidewalks and streets.  One would never have guessed at the Carnaval celebration which ended only hours before.

We walked about 5km along the waterfront from the downtown to a more recreational area.  Montevideo has a number of really suitable urban beaches which were being used by families and some tourists.  Off the beaten path, we managed to find a sweet little museum called Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales.  The exhibition was mostly contemporary multimedia art done by Uruguayans, but there was also a very interesting and unusual exhibit of Finnish design and textiles.

[The well hidden but worthwhile Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales]

We stopped at a beach side restaurant for lunch and decided it was about time to try Chivito, the national dish.  I think Chivito was traditionally made with goat meat but these days beef or chicken seem like the more popular options.  It is essentially a layered sandwich with ham, chicken or beef, fried egg, mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato.  I'm not sure I'd have it again, but at least I can say I tried a Chivito in  Montevideo.  Please notice the predominance of french fries.

We continued wandering along the waterfront, amused and amazed by the variety in this city.

[Kate in her UV protective get-up]

Feeling sunburned (me) and hot (Kate), we sat down for a windy beer. 

We made our 9 pm Buquebus ferry departure without incident.  The trip was quite rough and the very polite crew members kept requesting passengers stay in their seats to avoid injury.  Literally no one paid any attention.  After all, what kind of trip would it be if you were deprived of the opportunity to sip wine and eat an unlimited supply of hot dogs?

Kate tried to get a little sleep on the four hour journey while I listened to my iPod (Yes.  I am now one of those people).  Please enjoy this picture of Kate's sleeping outfit.  Mind you, I had no plans to photograph her until I noticed that quite a few of the passengers around us where snapping photos of her.  I couldn't miss out on the opportunity too:

The biggest party of the year

The guidebooks and internet forums about travel in South America discuss Carnaval ad nauseam.  Brazil has the best celebrations with Rio leading the way.  Uruguay also celebrates Carnaval in serious fashion.  Argentina has smaller, less extravagant celebrations.  I had no interest in participating, as usual.  I didn't even bother to look to see when the festivities started....

But on my way back from sightseeing yesterday, I noticed that the main square in the La Ciudad Vieja was blocked off to car traffic.  And there were large groups of men and women dressed in outlandish costumes.  I asked the doorman what was happening-- he looked at me with pity.  It's Carnaval, of course.  And last night was the first night.

Large buses of pulled up and dropped performers at our doorstep.  Then there was a complicated reorganization and waiting process which largely consisted of saying hello to friends, drinking beer, and eating hot dogs.

[The scene in front of our hotel]

[Two hot dogs with the works, please.  I have a lot of dancing ahead of me.]

Kate convinced me to venture further down the street and see the parade as it started.  The streets were lined with green folding chairs for rent.  When we arrived around 9:00 pm, the crowd was 5-8 people deep.  There were adults and children.  Everyone was in a very festive mood.

The performers varied from professional to amateur and they arrived in both small and large groups.  Kate and I couldn't really understand their affiliations-- neighborhoods?  dance troupes?  companies or businesses?  Several troupes featured barely clothed women dancing on high heels wearing huge headdresses.  They were all made up with heavily applied make-up and they plastered huge smiles on their faces as they worked hard at performing.

The whole thing made me nervous, but Kate was very enthused and I couldn't justify missing out on the biggest celebration Montevideo has to offer.....  I have a crowd phobia, so I was mostly hypervigilant about the hundreds and hundreds of Uruguayans milling around me, but when a big float passed by, I could feel the bass in my chest and the colors of the costumes seemed unreal.  It was enthralling!!  As an aside for all of those who are snickering about my overly nervous approach to this joyous event, I did spot a roving band of 10 year old pick pockets.  And how triumphant I felt glaring at them and willing them to try to pull a fast one on me!!

[My camera doesn't shoot well in low light...]

We stayed for an hour or so and then wandered off to find some dinner.  The staff at the hotel said it would continue into the early morning hours--- endless rows of drumming and dancing.  Kate braved the crowds (even bigger at this point) again and watched for a little longer.  I, of course, went to bed.

[That's how I felt by 10 pm....]

Montevideo

Greetings from the capital of Uruguay.  I honestly never in my life thought I would come here.  And before I became a midwife, I bet I didn't even know where Montevideo was....

Kate and I enjoyed a 2.5 hr bus ride from Colonia on an efficient clean and friendly bus service.  We were so shocked to have arrived earlier than scheduled, we were barely ready get off the bus.

As soon as I sat down in the tourism office, I could tell that the culture in Uruguay is palpably different-- a older woman slid into the office ahead of me in line and planted a big kiss on the representative's cheek.  Then she put her hand on my shoulder and apologized for cutting in front of me.  She explained she was just sending a kiss to her son via her daughter-in-law.  They had a sweet, short conversation peppered with apologies to me and then she left.  Friendly people, I tell you.

We're staying in Ciudad Vieja which juts out on a point into Rio de la Plata.  While the air in Buenos Aires betrays no evidence of the ocean and the water is generally either gray or brown, the water off of Montevideo smells salty and is deep blue.  Sidelong glances down streets in this neck of the woods almost always offer the opportunity to see a glimpse of the ocean.

We had lunch in the Mercado del Puerto which was literally vibrating with humanity.  It reminded me of a hotter, smokier, more crowded version of Faneuil Hall in Boston.

After lunch, we wandered the streets of La Ciudad Vieja, including along the water where folks were swimming, fishing and sunbathing.

[The Uruguayan version of my father-- listening to the radio outside his house]

[A city beach]

As we arrived back at our hotel at the end of the day, we noticed that the streets around Plaza Independencia were being closed off.  There were buses of adults dressed in costumes with sequins streaming onto the Plaza.  What was this strange practice?  

Carnaval (aka Carnival).... Uruguay-style.  No joke.  Pictures to come, I promise.

Look kids, it's Big Ben!

[Greetings from Montevideo!  Primitive internet services in Colonia led to the late publication of this blog entry.]

It's almost like Ground Hog Day.... Greetings again from Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay.  Kate and I arrived here by high speed ferry this very morning.  And yet again, the lovely, organized folks at Buquebus failed to remind everyone of the time change.  But I have wised up to this little trick and reset my watch promptly.

We're staying in a little B&B which is more like a small hotel built around a quiet and well maintained courtyard.  The price was right and we got a room with two beds, so we feel like we're living high on the hog.

When Quad and I toured Colonia last week, the weather was terrible.  It rained this morning in Buenos Aires which complicated our packing plans, but by the time we disembarked in Uruguay, the clouds had burned off and it was sunny!!!

[Kate explores the grassy shores of the Rio Plata]

[The sunny main street]

While Kate wandered around the city, I sat and read at riverside cafe and enjoyed the scenery.  Uruguayans are friendlier than Argentines and being outside of the city made me appreciate the fresh air and QUIET.

[Beer by the river]

[These guys should have a blog called To Fish and To Smoke.   We didn't seem them catch anything.]

[Diners at La Pulperia de Los Faros at dusk]

[The Basilica during our evening stroll]

[Dinner at Pulperia De Los Faros at sunset]

Good night....

The creepiest place in Buenos Aires.

I'm basically in bed today nursing a cold.  I sent Kate off to San Telmo to poke around that neighborhood.  It's about 94 degrees here today and the skies are darkening.  The rain that is expected for tomorrow may end up coming tonight and that will be mean cooler temperatures for tomorrow's trip to Uruguay.

Yesterday Kate and I checked out what has been described as "must see" in Buenos Aires-- the Recoleta Cemetery.  Recoleta is a neighborhood just outside the city center and is apparently home to the wealthiest residents of Buenos Aires.  The neighborhood was originally settled when a yellow fever epidemic hit San Telmo in the 1870s.  The cemetery is the resting place for Argentina's elite-- the wealthy, the notable, the powerful.  And it just happens to be the creepiest place in all of Buenos Aires.

The cemetery is organized into streets and the streets are lined by tombs which look much like houses.  The tombs are divided by religion and class-- the "poorer" section contains more modest tombs while in the "rich" section, some of the tombs were crafted like fine art.  Some contain several bodies and others are for just one person.  Many of the old tombs are in disrepair while some of the newer ones are clearly visited and groomed frequently.  They all have doors-- either with glass or without.  Many have windows through which you can see the coffins, altars, photographs, and flowers.

 

 

[Cheek to jowl dead folks]

This cemetery is also well known for containing the tomb of Eva Peron.  Neither Kate nor I were particularly interested in seeing the tomb.  Kate's guidebook made a big deal about how her tomb was made of modest black granite and was hard to distinguish from other graves.  There are no signs leading to the tomb and I was in no mood to hunt it down.  But were were just walking along and noticed a gaggle of tourists taking pictures of an elaborate black granite tomb with the family name Duarte on it-- sure enough, this was Evita's grave.  I can say I saw it.  "I will come again, and I will be millions."

Most of the tombs were fairly uninspired: light granite, simple ironwork, crosses all over (as an aside, the jewish tombs did not have Stars of David but they also did not have any crosses).

[A vegetative volunteer on a typical cross]

A few of the tombs were really interesting.  One, which I failed to photograph, looked perfectly sleek and modern.  The granite was burnished and the lines were clean and straight.  Inside, the floor was light wood and there was a velvet covered chair and kneeler.  The altar was covered in gilded vases and picture frames.  It looked the waiting room in a high end funeral home.  It was definitely nicer than my house.

Another tomb which caught my eye was this one:

Isabella died in 1970 at age 24.  This tomb was unlike all the others because of its shape-- the glassed arches directed light down the stairwell to her coffin (which wasn't visible).  This was also the only tomb we saw with a statue-- you can see that enough people had touched the dog's nose to reveal the unoxidized bronze underneath.  And so I'm enjoying the uniqueness of this one tomb and feeling like I can leave the cemetery without vomiting when I looked closely at her face.

So, after careful reflection, this is still the creepiest place in all of Buenos Aires.

Bicycle helmet count: 4