Day 1: We departed from JFK on October 19th for a 10 hour stop over in Bogota, Columbia on our way to Buenos Aries, Argentina. Just as the plane started its descent, I peered through the dense silver-grey rain clouds hovering over the airport. “Wow, isn’t it beautiful!” I exclaimed pointing out the window. Farm land with green pastures dotted with clusters of black and white cows filled geometric shapes. At first glance, the ground appeared a
s an abstract painting with rectangles and squares filled in with a variety of green hues from a painter’s palette. At the security check point, we approached tables where young officers dressed in khaki military uniforms patted down the passengers. I felt uncomfortable as a young female officer pressed her hands over my chest and slowly encircled my thighs while talking to me in another language. Imagine trying to pretend that you understand what is going on!
Day 2-3: Buenos Aires is a cosmopolitan city of blended architecture, old, new and modern. As we wandered down Florida Street, we looked at unusual leather jackets, belts and bags in the store fronts. Finally, we sat down in a Café on the second tier in Galleria Pacifica. As I stood in front of the Lacombe shop, I fortunately remembered that I didn’t leav
e my moisturizers at home. Shoppers visit this exquisitely constructed French style building where they enjoy a day of over-spending, sipping espresso coffee and marveling at the religious painted murals of naked woman on the walls and the ceiling. Although our hotel is in walking distance from Grande Boulevard, the elegant fountains and the Docks, the neighborhood is unique. Late 19th century building facades are under construction. On the same street are upscale shops such as Barbour, selling original British clothing, and small laundry mats and food markets.
On Sunday we walked the entire length of the Docks heading for Plaza Dorrengo. The 19th century Docks along the Puerto Madero harbor still have Grain Silos and old red brick buildings which housed the ships cargo. These same cranes which lifted the ca
rgo are memorialized along the walkway. On our way to the antique fair, Allan and I walked under the arches of the cranes still standing on their tracks. After walking a distance on Av. Independencia, I finally heard the sound of string instruments. Along Humberto St. peddlers, artists, musicians and tourists enjoyed the Sunday afternoon entertainment. Finally, I saw a long, lean young woman wearing a low-back red dress dancing the Tango with her strong, well-coordinated partner. As they moved together to the music, he gently grasped her arched back and she let herself be led by him.
Day 4: The early morning flight from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, the southwestern part of Tierra del Fuego, was fully booked with locals and hikers . To my dismay, the alarm clock sounded simultaneously with a 3 AM ‘buenos dias’ wake up call. How would A
llan be able to explain to the taxi driver that our flight departed from the domestic airport instead of the international airport? Neither one of us speaks Spanish! Allan pointed to the current schedule and said,” We’re flying out of Jorge Newbury Airport not Pistarini International Airport!” The night clerk served as the interpreter while the taxi driver called his office and confirmed the change in plans. I kept my fingers crossed that we were all on the same page.
Our plane descended into the grey-silver morning rain clouds. I grabbed Allan’s arm as the plane started to shake. He understands that I’m nervous when planes take off and land and he gently removes his arm from my clutches. At first glance, Ushuaia has all the charm of a frontier town or ‘an end of the end of the world city’. However, the construction taking place around
the harbor will eventually turn Ushuaia into an urban center more than it is now. Our hotel, Hostel Del Bosque, located on Magallanes St., is situated at the foot hills between the white capped mountains and the harbor. During the morning we walked down the narrow steps on partially torn up streets leading down to the Port. The cool breeze and sunny sky lasted about an hour. Walking back up the steps to our hotel was even more exhausting (on very little sleep) especially when the nice weather was followed by fierce winds and torrential rain which occurs about every two hours.
s an abstract painting with rectangles and squares filled in with a variety of green hues from a painter’s palette. At the security check point, we approached tables where young officers dressed in khaki military uniforms patted down the passengers. I felt uncomfortable as a young female officer pressed her hands over my chest and slowly encircled my thighs while talking to me in another language. Imagine trying to pretend that you understand what is going on!Day 2-3: Buenos Aires is a cosmopolitan city of blended architecture, old, new and modern. As we wandered down Florida Street, we looked at unusual leather jackets, belts and bags in the store fronts. Finally, we sat down in a Café on the second tier in Galleria Pacifica. As I stood in front of the Lacombe shop, I fortunately remembered that I didn’t leav
e my moisturizers at home. Shoppers visit this exquisitely constructed French style building where they enjoy a day of over-spending, sipping espresso coffee and marveling at the religious painted murals of naked woman on the walls and the ceiling. Although our hotel is in walking distance from Grande Boulevard, the elegant fountains and the Docks, the neighborhood is unique. Late 19th century building facades are under construction. On the same street are upscale shops such as Barbour, selling original British clothing, and small laundry mats and food markets.On Sunday we walked the entire length of the Docks heading for Plaza Dorrengo. The 19th century Docks along the Puerto Madero harbor still have Grain Silos and old red brick buildings which housed the ships cargo. These same cranes which lifted the ca
rgo are memorialized along the walkway. On our way to the antique fair, Allan and I walked under the arches of the cranes still standing on their tracks. After walking a distance on Av. Independencia, I finally heard the sound of string instruments. Along Humberto St. peddlers, artists, musicians and tourists enjoyed the Sunday afternoon entertainment. Finally, I saw a long, lean young woman wearing a low-back red dress dancing the Tango with her strong, well-coordinated partner. As they moved together to the music, he gently grasped her arched back and she let herself be led by him.Day 4: The early morning flight from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, the southwestern part of Tierra del Fuego, was fully booked with locals and hikers . To my dismay, the alarm clock sounded simultaneously with a 3 AM ‘buenos dias’ wake up call. How would A
llan be able to explain to the taxi driver that our flight departed from the domestic airport instead of the international airport? Neither one of us speaks Spanish! Allan pointed to the current schedule and said,” We’re flying out of Jorge Newbury Airport not Pistarini International Airport!” The night clerk served as the interpreter while the taxi driver called his office and confirmed the change in plans. I kept my fingers crossed that we were all on the same page.Our plane descended into the grey-silver morning rain clouds. I grabbed Allan’s arm as the plane started to shake. He understands that I’m nervous when planes take off and land and he gently removes his arm from my clutches. At first glance, Ushuaia has all the charm of a frontier town or ‘an end of the end of the world city’. However, the construction taking place around
the harbor will eventually turn Ushuaia into an urban center more than it is now. Our hotel, Hostel Del Bosque, located on Magallanes St., is situated at the foot hills between the white capped mountains and the harbor. During the morning we walked down the narrow steps on partially torn up streets leading down to the Port. The cool breeze and sunny sky lasted about an hour. Walking back up the steps to our hotel was even more exhausting (on very little sleep) especially when the nice weather was followed by fierce winds and torrential rain which occurs about every two hours. 
1 comment:
I want to go to Buenos Aries. However, I do not see myself dancing in the streets. I'll leave that to others.
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