Barney Gomez a.k.a. Barney Gumble

As I couldn't remember if we (and by that I mean Brad and Ben and I) had visited Salta during our foray to northern Argentina on fall break 04 other than to catch the Cope Libertadores match, I decided to check it out. After all, everyone speaks well of it. A 24 hour bus cama from Bs. As. later, I arrived. But only after tearing myself away from Buenos Aires with great difficulty.

When I arrived, I saw a city I really had no memory of whatsoever. I therefore headed towards a hostel recommended by another traveller. Of course, it turns out that there are actually 3 hostels by the same name in Salta, and I of course ended up at the wrong a.k.a. the boring one. But that didn't really matter since I would only be staying in town for one night before heading towards Bolivia and the great unknown.

One problem I encountered immediately upon arriving in the city was one of profound stupidity. Think of it as some kind of euphoria-less feeling of being stoned. Or the daze of bright sunlight on your eyes after pulling an all-nighter with Australian backpackers; read that as after drinking heavily all night. Anyway, i was entirely unable to express myself in Spanish, and even my English seemed a little off. Now, all the locals would laugh and say it's the altitude that affects all travellers; I think that's crap as Salta really isn't that high up. I think it's the combination of 24 hours on a bus, which means on and off low-quality sleep, plus hunger (the breakfast was small and not very good), plus the general damage Bs. As. did to my system are to blame. Whatever the cause may be, however, the effect was that my Spanish was greatly diminished, to the point of appearing laughable even to myself. But a nap later, this problem had dissipated, a further indication that it was not the altitude affecting me.

Rested, I thus went to explore the city. My first reaction to the city was that it seemed entirely new to me: even the beautiful central plaza and the gondola that connects downtown with a viewing mountain above the city didn't recall any memories. In fact, nothing I saw or did in Salta was at all reminiscent of 2004 - until I was on my way home after dinner that night, that is. I was looking at a little map/guidebook of the kind given out by hostels and found a bar by the name of Barney Gomez, a character from The Simpsons known to anglophones as Barney Gumble. The name brought back memories of a post-rafting evening with all the trapping of being our best night out on that 04 road trip, so I decided to check out the place. Indeed, it was the same bar we visited back in the day, except that it was pretty dead. But just being there brought back some memories of that road trip that had been long forgotten, and wouldn't be appropriate here.

The next morning I decided to take the gondola to the top of the hill that sits immediately above town, on e of the main in-town tourist attractions. (There are also some nice museums, but more on that later.) The elevation going up is an extra 250 meters, i think, and you do indeed go up in the gondola much like when skiing. Anyway, from the top you have an absolutely gorgeous view of the city, and beyond it the valley that stretches down from the Andean highland towards .... well, I don't really know, but in the direction of the pampa/sea, I suppose. After all, both of those are lower than Salta, and valleys tend to have some kind of incline. I then hiked down the mountain, which made me really glad that I hadn't hiked up; it's abut 1000 steps, plus some incline parts. Unfortunatly the nature trail on the back side of the mountain was closed (for no apparent reason), so I had to be happy with the flora and fauna I saw on the descent. This wasn't particularly spectacular other than the large amount of incredibly HUGE spiders. Some were definitely larger than my hands, and not being a huge fan of arachnids, this kind of creeped/grossed me out.

Other than that though, the city is quite lovely, and not totally unlike Cordoba, in that it has a beautiful central plaza, and the rest of city is sort of a mix between older, nice buildings (including plenty of churches) and more modern, less attractive ones.

Damn you, homogeneity!

So i spent 2 days trying to get a falafel lunch in Palermo at a place the the whole study abroad crowd frequented.... and by frequented, I mean pretty much camped out in once we had discovered it. The reason I so desperately wanted falafel is that it is one of my favorite foods. Moreover, the food in Argentina is best summed up in the following two adjectives: repetitive and bland. So i had been pining for a good falafel and some hot sauce for quite a few weeks, really looking forward to tucking into about 3 sandwiches the first time I'd be eating there.

Here's what you need to understand about food in Argentina: I'm not saying it isn't good, because for the most part it's absolutely delicious. The only problem is the lack of diversity, and the lack of spice. In terms of food variety, your choices are pretty basic: Steak, pizza, past, or empanadas. Moreover, the main spice the country uses is mayonnaise. Mayonnaise! In lots of cheap restaurants, they don't have salt or pepper on the tables, and when you ask for it, you may even elicit a surprised stare - and they may not even have any. Sometimes I really wonder how they even cook in that country.

I couldn't find it the first time, and thought it was just a fluke, because even though there was a place that looked a lot like it from the outside, it sold empanadas, so I didn't go in. Then after spending the following day's lunch time looking for it again, I decided to go into the empanada place, and indeed it was the former Lebenese restaurant, complete with the stairs and bathroom in the same places, but nothing even remotely vegetarian or spicy on the menu. I was pretty upset, but even more so, disappointed. In a city already teeming with empanada places, why not remove the only cheap and accessible Halal food place and replace it with something you can get on every street corner!

Home Sweet Home

I took an overnight bus from Cordoba to Buenos Aires, where i arrived early in the morning. There were several minor problems facing me when I arrived: Even though I had tried to book a bed at Milhouse Hostel - recommended to me by both Looney and a very experienced backpacker - they had somehow not received my first request and thus I didn't yet have a place to stay for the first 3 days. I also hadn't been in touch with my host family from study abroad, Josefina and Nacio, because when I got back to the States after the semester, my computer with the email addresses had been stolen; and since it was 6.30 in the morning, I didn't feel like it was an appropriate time to stop by for a surprise visit. Moreover, I didn't really have a game plan for what I wanted to do while in Bs As, except for my desire to eat falafel at our "establishment" up in Palermo (more on that adventure in another post).

Anyway, I hauled my rear end to Milhouse anyway, thinking they might reserve some beds just for stop-ins (a.k.a. people who just show up) since many hostels do this. Unfortunately, they do not. However, another person had recommended a hostel around the corner from there, which for all its other charms has the unfortunate nomer "The Clan House." However, I can certify that no Imperial Wizards or the like are hiding out there: it's just yet another example of Argentines' trouble with the English language, where certain phrases just don't carry over. I ended up really liking the feel of the hostel and more importantly, the people living there, so I stayed there for most of my time in Bs. As. even returning after my 3 nights at the Milhouse, which I found overly institutional and was populated by about 90% English and Irish. Coincidentally, I ran into the group of travelling Englishmen (and -woman) that have been trailing me around the continent: from checking into Casa Roja in Santiago on the same day to seeing them in Pucón, Puerto Varas, sharing a hostel in Chiloe, and the Bs. As., it's getting a little weird. They're good people though, so it's ok - though like many British travellers in these parts, they speak little Spanish and drink a lot.

Anyway, the first day in Bs As I decided to take a look at Plaza Francia/Recolleta and the design center there (my favorite shops in the world? probably...) and on the way back stopped by and luckily found both Nacio anf Fina at home, so hung out there for a couple hours catching up with them. Since it was Friday, Nacio said he'd drum together the old gang at their new bar, and we'd try to make it an early night. As it were, it was an early night for Argentines - we met at 12.30 am. I think I got home at 8.30 am.

I spent most of my 9 days in the city visiting old haunts and just generally walking around parks and visiting museums. Then, on the weekends, hanging out with Nacio and the other guys I met through him during my study abroad time there, which was awesome, and the best part of being in Bs. As. During my time there, I realized that the city really does feel almost like home to me. I realized that I've spent about as much time living in Buenos Aires as I have in London, and my knowledge of London is hardly any better than that of Buenoas Aires. Plus, which my various accents in various languages, I probably get no more strange looks - less actually - in Argentina than I do in London. And because I speak like a porteño, I don't get messed with like i do in the UK for having an American accent, people expect that I know the city. So hopefully, one of these days I can get a job in Buenos Aires and spend another couple months - if not years - there.