Bodia by bus

 

In the USA and some other developed countries, bus riding is not cool, but that’s how the rest of the world gets around. In Asia, unless you have a motorcycle, the bus is the best transportation option. One of these options is the sleeper bus, with bunk bed type arrangements and seats that almost allow you to get flat. Fares are cheap compared to any other mode, and there is something to be said for the old slogan, ‘Leave the driving to us.’ Of course, the problem quite often is the driver.

Where does the line start?

 

Roads in Cambodia, and much of Vietnam, run about 20 feet wide, shoulder to shoulder, if there is one. That narrow stretch of blacktop holds people walking with huge loads, multitudes of bicyclists of all ages, and mind boggling numbers of motorcycles. Some of these are loaded like a Dr. Seuss cartoon- wooden baskets piled ten by eight, four live chickens tied to each handlebar, sometimes a laden fruit tree twelve feet high. Keep looking, and you’ll see some amazing sights. Entire families hop on board, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and two or three kids. If there’s not at least three on a moto, efficiency is surely lacking. Bikes with families tend to go much slower than the 18 year old kid going solo to see his girlfriend.

Added to this road stew are tractors, a sort of land version of the long tailed boat, with the engine a good 6 feet in front of the driver, and nothing in between. His load might be a dozen people crowded onto a small platform of plywood, and maybe a big live pig in a cage on the very back. Throw in a few tuk tuks, the open air jitneys that are taxis in many Asian cities. These tend to have a top speed of around 30, with a load of 3 people. Squeeze 5 onboard and you’re lucky to see half that.

There are also regular cars and trucks, and these tend to be driven very fast, unless there happen to be 14 people squeezed into the bed, or piled up with a metal mass of 200 bikes, as I saw in Siem Reap. I guessed it might take hours to unload the thing. The big trucks are next up on the food chain, although some, loaded or not, can’t exceed 25 mph. Then there are some that go like they’re in a grand prix, only hitting the brakes to prevent a fatality. Finally, there are the busses, connecting every city and town, driven by guys who know this stretch of road like their dog knows his yard. These drivers tend to be a bit hyper, no doubt trying to make it to the destination as quickly as possible, before other road mayhem finds them. So they end up doing some absurd maneuvers, like passing a convoy of slow trucks uphill on a blind corner, with a semi truck coming our direction having to slam on the brakes to avoid a head on. Variations on this theme occurred dozens of times, and some of the near misses are best not witnessed, lest you be getting very agitated and thinking about getting off this thing right now.

Unloading could take a while

Most of the time, the larger vehicles take their ten foot half out of the middle of the road, avoiding the steady stream of bikes, walkers, and motos. Bus drivers also have a propensity to honk at each of these pesky annoyances, so there’s quite often a near constant staccato cacophony. The horn tends to be a button extending from the steering wheel, so it can be operated constantly, even if the driver is deep in an animated phone conversation, which is often. It’s nothing personal, really, he just wants them to know he’s there, 10 inches off their left shoulder. So the horn becomes a factor in terms of where to get your seats if given a choice. The back of the sleeper busses in particular tend to have a bit more room and are as far away as possible from the one note trumpeter. The close calls between the bus, bikes and motos are countless, and I’m sure there’s plenty of carnage at times, but I didn’t see any on seven separate trips.

 

The revved up bus driver hates to wait, or follow slowpokes, and he will often make passes that would make James Bond grab the seat and brace for impact. Revving the engine flat out, and coming down the middle of the road like a missile, the long distance bus is the top predator in the asphalt jungle. One driver on the stretch between HCMC and Nha Trang, did a series of high speed, high risk, very sketchy passes on the crowded highway, overtaking around two dozen vehicles including some real turtles. Almost immediately after surviving this stress experiment, he pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out. Maybe he needed to check his pants to see if they were brown, or maybe he had to relax and have a smoke, but 5 minutes later we had to do it all over again. I wasn’t a math major, but rolling the dice with catastrophic probabilities is something that is best left to bare minimums. Every multi hour bus trip has at least one leisurely stop, usually at a roadside cafe or truck stop where a half hour break from the wild ride is appreciated by all. Some of these can have some decent food choices and modern conveniences. One stop like this, little over than an hour south out of Siem Reap, featured two large woks piled high with beetles and giant crickets.

                                                 Here’s your protein fix

Departure and arrival times are very elastic with some of the bus companies, and one hour delays are not that bad compared to other possibilities. A bus I took from Sihanoukville, through Kampot and Kep, crossing the border at Hat Thien, Vietnam, and then continuing to HCMC, arrived at midnight, 5 hours past the stated ticket time. This stretch was brutal, due to changing busses a couple of times, and a very slow immigration checkpoint at the Vietnam border. Much of the travel reports I heard in Cambodia said that the hassles begin in earnest there, and that was accurate this day for sure. At one point, after waiting for a shuttle to the bus station to get our last leg into Saigon, we were informed that the van we would be loading into had absolutely no room for large packs, whatsoever. This was complete bull, of course, as a similar van from the same company was packed with people and backpacks. Fortunately, on board with us was a Vietnamese woman who now lived in Ohio and spoke good English, and apparently devastating Vietnamese, as she lambasted our driver into biting his lip and loading us all up. Onward through the delta region of Vietnam, a very watery world, and the final 4 1/2 hours of the 14 I spent on the bus that long ass day .

 

The bus I took from Phnom Penh to Sihanoukville had it’s goofy aspects as well. Departing from a make shift station in the heart of town, packed to the gills, it was very difficult to understand any of the announcements coming over the fuzz box PA system. There was much confusion among the foreign travelers as to which bus was which, when it was leaving, and would there be a seat when they got on it. My 12 noon bus quickly became a 1pm departure, and then that the 1pm bus was declared inoperable and we would be getting on a bus that hadn’t arrived yet. There were half a dozen busses in a dense swarm of humanity on a busy street with very little elbow room. Once our bus arrived, I managed to board amidst lots of chaotic ignorance and duplicate tickets. My seat was good, far as I could tell, but two farang girls across the aisle were repeatedly informed that they were being moved to the next bus out as their seats were reserved for other people. To their credit, they held their ground, refusing to move as the flustered bus employees each gave their best shot at persuading them to get off. These girls were tired and worn out from the goofy bus process already and they were staying on this bus until it got to Sihanoukville. At one point the driver himself came back to give it a shot but they weren’t budging. If the actual police had shown up that might not have done it either. So they stayed right where they were, the driver got over it shortly, and in an hour we were finally out of Phnom Penh Then it was five hours of bobbing and weaving and the endless games of Dare and Chicken. A pretty fascinating experience as long as you keep looking out the side window and not the windshield.

Cafayate

This beguiling valley is only 190 kilometers southeast of Salta, capitol of the province, and that drive is surely one of the panoramic expanses of landscape in all of Argentina. The route on Highway 68 passes through the  fertile pastures of the Lema Valley before crossing into the remarkably rugged mountains surrounding the Calchique valleys. Once past the last real settlement at La Vina, the highway twists through steep, amole, aka, ‘shin dagger’cactus covered ridges before entering the eroded spectacle of the jaw dropping Quebrada de las Conchas, the Gorge of the Shells. This gave me a profound Utah flashback, with every shade of red earth carved into extraordinary forms, evoking the usual impulse of ‘let’s get in there’. 

The portal to the sublime

Passing through this region at sunset really puts the proper shade on these hills, and the reflection on the small yet stunning Rio de las Conchas is mesmerizing. There are several signed rock formations, including the Devil’s Throat, the Obelisk, and the Toad, and thousands more further away from the highway. It reminded me of the Canyonlands in Utah, with fluted walls of petrified mud, and hollowed out grottos and slot canyons like the Pariah Plateau. It’s the kind of place where your hiking boots are waiting like a dog at the door. 

Canyonesque, but way south of Utah

So the method is to get into Cafayate, get a place to base out of, and then get back up to this quebrada. I was able to get some excellent tips from Juan, the owner of Muna bikes, about how to get up to a sublime 8k loop. From the terminal, take any Salta bound bus to km 24, El Paso, just past the Obelisk at km 22. There is no sign other than a barrier blocking entry into this wash, and this is the entrance. Follow the abundant horse and footprints to the east, as this wash begins to tighten up and close in. Plenty of side ravines drop into this one, providing heaps of opportunities to explore more, but continuing on in the main one is the idea. The sandy bottom eventually runs out and an easy slick rock climb emerges onto a Martian red mesa which overlooks another vast high desert delta, beyond which lie cloud topped peaks, a dazzling sight.

Pretty as a postcard

It’s all downhill from here, treading the well worn path across the vermillion scape past some curious rock figures and down into the jumbo wash. This marks a solid left turn, and this drainage is followed all the way back to the highway just a flat half hour away. The end intersects the highway at a site known as ”La Yesera’, where fossilized fish are the remnants of the last ocean to cover the Americas 15 million years ago. The stone layers surrounding the area are visual  evidence of the array of minerals found here, with gypsum, borax, cobalt, copper and sulfur all lending their tint to the terracotta scape.

A couple of the local wooly boolies

The river on the other side of the highway is easy to get down to and offers a fine place to cool off and splash. I startled a flock of parrots that were ensconced in a bushy tree and other than that the only sound for hours was the wind. There’s a roadside store called El Zorrito that is visible a quarter mile away and that’s where I hung in the shade until the Cafa bound bus rolled by again. 50 pesos going out, and 58 from 4k further away on the return. This theme can be repeated at any number of attractions farther into the quebrada, such as the Garganta del Diablo and Anfiteatro 20 k up the road, both of which attract plenty of visitors. There is no lack of shade in the recesses of the canyon I walked up, but none the rest of the way, so adequate water and a hat are essential, and some grub is a fine idea.

Way more hoodoos than humans

This entire panorama is utterly astounding, with loads of other named formations such as the Friars, and the Castles, and several good long days could be spent investigating the area. Depending on the amount of sun and the time of day, the earth changes colors here much like sections of the Grandest Canyon, in Arizona. Visually, it’s a treat, and easy to access, as the busses from Salta are running at regular intervals. The chalky white hills called the Medanos are found at km 6 on the way back towards town, another inviting place to walk through the sand dunes.

The shady plaza is the hub of the town

The town of Cafayate is a unique locale, sitting in the middle of these spectacular canyons to the east and the hulking cordillera to the west and much closer. Surrounded by 30 something bodegas, many quite celebrated, in some respects it’s like a much smaller Mendoza. It’s certainly on the tourist circuit, judging from the quantity of long distance motorcyclist groups which roll through here, and obviously a favorite stay over location. The central plaza is one of the best in Argentina, loaded with trees and birds, grassy and shady, and the locals hang out here for hours. This unsullied square is fronted by businesses on all sides, primarily sidewalk cafes, shops, and wine stores. The foremost church here is resplendent yellow on the north and is next door to an exceptionally helpful tourist office, providing details on accomodations and all things vital to travelers.

The big church is in the epicenter of Cafayate

I rented a bike from Juan at Muna twice and tooled around town, first heading west out through the vineyards, towards the mountain range which was usually capped with clouds. Passing by the Quara vineyards, I pulled in for a free tour but the place was closed during siesta time in the early afternoon. This is the rule around these parts, similar to the hot parts of Mexico, but that’s when I tend to be most active. I’ve taken plenty of tours in Mendoza, California, and New Zealand, so although I enjoy them, it’s not a priority. One km further on is Etchart Vineyards, and much of this stretch features a paved bike path which parallels the road and provides a safe buffer zone from the motorized parade. When I crossed over 3 meters of brushy dirt to get on it, my tires picked up a few dozen ‘goathead’ sticker thorns, which took me a few minutes to remove but fortunately none punctured the tubes, which can happen easily. 

Riding through the expansive vineyards around town

Directly across the highway from Quara is the renowned Estancia de Cafayate, a well financed development that includes a posh hotel and villas, golf course, homesites, and its’ own 70 year old vineyards. I was curious to see what the spread looked like, but the gate guard informed me that I could neither ride nor walk in, but I was welcome to return in an automobile. I wasn’t that curious, and never made it back. I did wheel around for long enough to get hot and tired, and a significant portion of the residents use bikes for transportation. It’s a fine community to ride in, as traffic isn’t too excessive or manic, and most of that is in the center. 

The next day I biked towards the east, crossing the bone dry Rio Chusche and rolled north on Route 2 beneath rows of Poplar trees and through miles of grapevines similar to the westward ruta del vino. The Piatelli Vineyards are 3 km up the road on the right, and this path can be followed for many more across high desert to Domingo Molina. I explored the northern limits of Cafayate on my return, and there’s much more to the northern residential section than the southern part.

Some of Argentina’s finest is abundant here

All the blocks are laid out on a grid, but not all the roads go through and almost all are dirt. I managed to get a little lost and turned around as I was searching for a different way to get back to the town centro. There is also another excellent route to roll on, by taking 25 de Mayo north off Hwy 40 on the west edge of town and heading towards the Rio Colorado. This will lead to Cueva del Sur, an archeological site with caves and petroglyphs, and just up the road a small bodega named Finca las Nubes, the Farm of Clouds. The small town of Divisadero is a kilometer away, with ruins of an ancient setlement and more intriguing geography, at the edge of the mountains where the Colorado and Lorohuasi rivers converge. There are more choice hiking and biking options here, winding through boulders, and across creeks to scattered small waterfalls, reminiscent of the lush Catalina mountains in my old homeland.

On the high road towards Tafi del Valle

I spent my downtime roaming the streets of Cafa, looking for new places to check out, relax, and refuel. There is a range of choices for food and drink, especially on the plaza, but I returned to the reliable as often as not. These were El Hornito, with its’ trademark empanada oven out front, and El Chelo, where the locals converge for hearty, cheap sandwiches. Both are on the same street, Rivadavia, a quick walk from the plaza. The former serves excellent grilled meals and empanadas and a sidewalk table is a terrific vantage point to watch the locals on the move.  I met several travelers here from Europe and North America and we traded information and ideas over fine wine and cold beers. El Chelo was where I started each morning with first class coffee accompanied by a sandwich to go, to munch on later. 

El Hornito is the absolute bomb

Cafayate lived up to its reputation and I plan to return to the area soon, along with some time in the very different Tafi del Valle on the way towards Tucuman. Passing through here on the bus back south gave me a glimpse of countryside that evoked Switzerland, pastoral and beyond pretty, and the wet cloud forest dropping off this high plateau is a drive not to be missed in any weather conditions. The more of northern Argentina I visit, the more motivated I am to get back.

Details:

Juan at Muna Bikes

Muna Bikes, where I rented my metal steed, is also a casual cafe and tavern, serving homemade meals, snacks, and ice cold beers. Juan is a wealth of information about biking and hiking options in the area, and his place is located on the street directly behind the cathedral on the plaza.  This is a good place to start any outdoor adventure in the area, and the bikes come with helmet, pump, repair kit, lock and map. Very handy, and very economical.    Calchaqui 70        +54  291 418 2122   

My digs in town at El Portal

Hostal ‘El Portal de las Vinas’, is located on the same street as the cathedral, Nuestra Senora del Rosario 165. All private rooms, very cool and quiet due to thick adobe walls, with a nice courtyard and good wifi. Air conditioning, cable TV, and budget friendly. +54 3868 42 1098

Humahuaca and Iruya

I traveled to this region earlier in the year, spending my time in Tilcara, 45 kilometers to the south in this massive quebrada. I was focused on learning a new area, so I came to Humahuaca, a much larger village, and that much closer to my real objective of the otherworldly settlement of Iruya. 

Iruya is something else altogether

Humahuaca is situated at 1100 feet altitude, much like Tilacara and Purmamarca, its closest neighbors. Tourism seems to be the economic driver here, and there are a few features that visitors can access, such as the giant salt flats to the west, Valle Grande and Calilegua National Park to the southeast, and the celebrated multicolored hills throughout this immense gorge. The town itself has a historic center with narrow cobblestone streets, a clean traditional plaza with lots of shade trees, and all sorts of monuments. Chief among these is the very prominent memorial to the ‘Heroes of the Independence’ two blocks west of the plaza, with a promenade of steps leading up to a towering statue of the heroes, sitting atop the municipal museum of archeology. The views from the top are splendid, and it’s obvious a lot of work was devoted to this site. Colonial style street lamps lend a lovely light, and this is a worthy place to witness the dusk settle over the big valley. 

The top of the monument offers an excellent view

As in many of these isolated towns, there are a number of renowned old cathedrals and cultural centers, along with open air markets, a clock tower, and souvenir shops galore.

Of course there’s a central plaza

Several outfitters can transport travelers to other points of interest outside of town, and there are ample opportunities for biking, hiking, and long distance trekking. I stayed two nights en route to a planned circuit of southern Bolivia, but my main purpose here was to get to Iruya, a place I had been inspired to visit by many who already had.

The road to Iruya

The turnoff to Iruya is 19 km north of Humahuaca on Hwy. 9, and from then on it’s 54 km of dusty, bumpy, serpentine and steep pitches into the valley where the village sits perched on a mountain shelf at 2800 meters. Even a mountain dweller is likely to feel the altitude here which is deceiving, as this is the bottom of a valley, but there are 5000 meter mountains both north and south of here. 150 Argentine pesos was the fare, and while the destination is quite the payoff, scenic splendor wise, the actual road there is an engineering marvel. The first part climbs steadily through a number of tiny settlements and grazing animals until it reaches the crest of a high ridge. The abundant cactus is in full bloom in early December, and several familiar Arizona cousins are blended with odd altiplano plants. 

A window seat is cumpulsory

The landscape becomes more dramatic and steep with the distance until it falls off that pronounced ridge into a series of switchbacks where large white rocks mark the edges. Which is a good thing, as fog or rain could render visibility near zero here, and competent drivers in a solid 4wd could feel spooked and compelled to crawl along at 5 mph white knuckling this entire stretch. Our driver, piloting a creaky old 40 passenger bus, handled it all like a maestro, no doubt due to his prolific mileage on this king’s camino.

From this shrine on top of the pass it’s all downhill

There is a religious shrine tucked into the big rocks at the top of this pass, and a crowd of locals were congregated here to mark some holy moment. Here it was downhill all the way into the bottom of a broad valley bordered by vertical cliffs and sheer bluffs. Finally the fabled pueblo comes into view, a postcard perched on the bottom of a precipitous mountain. I’ve never seen a place quite like it, and although some of the desert on the way in is stark and daunting, the living beauty is something else altogether. As John Muir or Ed Abbey might say, life affirming, at the very least.

This is as far as the bus goes in Iruya, a bit below el centro

I complimented the driver on his road skill getting off, and he told me would be departing at 2:30, about 3 hours away. My foot ramble commenced with a search for something to eat, wandering narrow stone streets up through the mostly adobe buildings. It was Sunday, and there was a crowd of folks in and around the striking yellow church, with the sermon broadcast via loudspeakers outside. Built in 1690, this structure is the most prominent of all here and has held up quite well. Stopping into a store with a sign advertising empanadas and such, a crusty old guy answered my query with, ‘No quedan nada, hippie’, ‘there’s nothing left’, which cracked me up, not so easy to do. I was sporting a daypack and no doubt looked like a vagrant of sorts, but this response surprised me. I do imagine that some of the locals get weary of the tourist day trippers, if only because this place is so isolated that everybody is an ‘us or them’ to some degree, and as many resist the changes as embrace them. And change used to be much slower here, for sure.

Not many skaters on these streets

Continuing my climb up to the limits of the center, I arrived at a locked up cemetery with million dollar views. Looping back down a lane which could be skied with enough snow brought me back down to the people’s church, where I knocked out 3 small empanadas, carne and goat cheese at 15 pesos a piece.

A fine spot for some serious rest

This was enough fuel to do the trick and get me across the much newer, and solid as a rock pedestrian bridge which spans the broad and usually dry Iruya river, which must be a wild sight when it actually flows. I wandered through this other half of the village, mostly residential, with a jumbo dirt soccer field where first a boy’s team, and then the girl’s, each played a game.

The neighborhood on the other side of the river

It doesn’t take much time to see most of what’s here, and one more leisurely stroll delivered me to the most commercial block with a few hostels, cafes, and small stores surrounded a tiny covered plaza. The pace of life is slow in Iruya, sporadically interrupted by the  tourist bus arrivals, and I killed the rest of my allotted time before returning to the idling bus at 2:15. Which was fortuitous, as after I paid my 150 for the return fare we took off at 2:19, with just a handful of riders and nobody I could recall from the ride in. So maybe all those visitors were staying the night, but if not they missed the ‘boats’ early launch.

Read them, know them, live them

The ride out was as pretty as the ride in, with a new appreciation for the pitch, curviness and route of the mighty road, and the worshippers were all still up around the shrine when we passed over the top. A couple of pick ups and drop offs later, and a quick pull in at the only real village on the way, San Isidro. The 73 kms between Humahuaca and Iruya takes almost 3 hours in good conditions, so a day trip definitely uses up a day. It is an amazing destination and worth the time, but plenty of peeps would enjoy an overnight stay to further absorb the glacial pace of the place. There are trails heading out in all directions, most going straight up, and mountain biking is likewise an option for fun. Don’t miss it if the opportunity presents itself.

The road to Iruya is a serious piece of work

Vital Information

I stayed at the excellent La Humahuacasa hostel, 2 blocks from the central plaza at Buenos Aires 740. Paola and Juan are exceptional hosts, providing a tasty basic breakfast and super useful local knowledge on the area’s delights. Shared and private rooms are very economical, the wifi is good, and a fully equipped kitchen and outdoor grill is ready to go. It makes for a fine base while exploring the area.

www.humahuacasa.com.ar     info@humahuacasa.com.ar   0338 154 120868

There is no shortage of places to eat, ranging from swank tourist cafes to ultra local eateries offering everything from humitas to llama burgers. Just on the other side of Belgrano avenida is a sizable outdoor market where the locals buy everything from clothes and appliances to produce. This is the right place to stretch a peso to the limit.

There are a bunch of outfitters catering to vacationers looking to explore the countryside, trekking or biking, and excursions of all time frames and costs. The Bolivian border at La Quiaca is 160 km north, the appealing Tilcara 42 k to the south, with San Salvador de Jujuy, capitol city of the province and a major hub, another 84 k down Highway 9.

Four leg drive

Cabo Polonio, Bona Fide Best of Uruguay

There may well be other places like this, a scruffy village of dwellings on a cape which seems like it’s from another time, but I haven’t seen any. Most locations remind you of some other place that has some similarities, but I have yet to ever meet anybody who’s been able to name one for here. It has a vibe all its own in a site that provokes photo frenzies and futile attempts at worthy descriptions. Hard to get to, harder to leave, and always generating plans for the next return trip. This is the effect this cape produces, and not many are immune to the spell.

Beasties basking beneath the beacon

It started off long ago, like many on Uruguay’s Atlantic coast, as a fishing village. There were, and still are, multitudes of Sea Lions here, which resulted in thousands being slaughtered for their pelts. The shipwrecks off this treacherous point are many and legendary, so the history of the place is bountiful. The blonde bombshell and animal rights activist Bridget Bardot was instrumental in ending the sea lion slaughter, and now there are, once again, loads of the beasties, often barking up a storm.

A view from the classic lighthouse

Now it’s an actual national park, protected  territory, and all visitors are encouraged to do their best to keep it clean and semi pristine. There’s a modern visitors center, with excellent historical information and a colossal map on the floor to illustrate where you’re bound. After paying to board a whopper of an all terrain vehicle to roll 7 kilometers through sand dunes and coastal forest to reach the village. The option to walk is available, but very few do, as most can’t wait to get there.

These big shuttles are how most visitors get to Polonio nowadays

And there is something else: an ultra rustic village with no electricity that’s not generated from solar panels, wind turbines, or gas generators. Besides the well worn track that the giant shuttles roll in on, there are really no streets, just sandy paths and passageways. Quite a few multicolored cabins, houses, and other structures, and many absolutely ramshackle, as if put together out of a scrap bin. The funkiest community of houses and cabins in one place ever seen, with dogs, chickens, horses and hippies running wild.

Horses run free here, along with everything else

And what a lighthouse, one of a network on this coast that are situated every 20 miles or so.

Vintage, great looking and still kicks ass

This beauty offers a stupefying  360 vista of the cape and everything this side of the horizon, including the expansive lair of the sea lions. To the north lie the lofty dunes that border the woods and stretch for kilometers to the closest settlement of Valizas. Southward, miles of immaculate empty beach for many miles. Cabo Polonio has become the preferred getaway for urban dwellers in 3 countries, and fills up with them every January. Vacancies are meager and lodging rates as high as they get. Nevertheless, it’s the best place you could possibly be at that time of year.

South Beach in low season is a gem even if empty

The rest of the year it usually only gets bustling on warm weekends, and during the cold winter months, it’s a virtual ghost town. The hamlet has 3 named neighborhoods, though I visited for years without hearing any mention of them.

The serene Playa de los Huevos just up the coast

I prefer to order them by geography: Calaveras Beach, extending towards the dunes to the north; South Beach, on the other side of the peninsula reaching in the direction of the next town, La Pedrera; and the grassy peninsula between these two which is filled with granite boulders. The actual ‘town’, more of a hamlet than anything, is situated in this middle area. This is where most of the commercial businesses are, the hostels, cafes, shops, and now, 3 small grocery stores.

This is the main commercial drag

Calaveras Beach, facing east, has the strongest surf while South Beach facing almost due south is much more gentle. Most of the dwellings above South Beach are painted white and appear to be more solid and upscale than the rest, with a few exceptions. Many of these pads are available for rent and are among the most expensive and swank in the area.

These white cabins are some of the choicest on the cape

The village center sports the most accommodations and without doubt the cheapest. There are also a few hostels and B&B’s facing Calaveras Beach. Many of the places to stay close up in the low season, which lasts from May through November, and for the ones that stay open, this is the economical season. Hostel World lists just 3 places that are operating in the off season, but this number probably triples during the summer. Rates that are $10 per bunk can easily triple in January, when Cabo is full blast.

On the rocks, with hammock of course

There are some extra funky digs back away from the beach situated close to the dunes, and some of these can be rented as well, although the methods of contact are usually word of mouth. Those dunes are great fun to wander around, offering sensational views of the entire cape, and I’ve found sizable pools of fresh water here after rainy days, a special, ephemeral treat. One of the popular diversions is to hike the trail from Cabo to the neighboring town of Valizas, first starting on the beach and then winding inland through the dunes. This can take 2 to 3 hours depending on energy and time demands, and a 2 mile longer route follows the coast line the entire way, past a superb beach called Playa de Los Huevos (egg beach), directly below the prominent rocky overlook known as Buena Vista. This ramble as a round trip day hike will probably be too much of a physical challenge for most people to enjoy, but there are plenty who do it.

Buena Vista hill between Cabo and Valizas

I’ve gone to Cabo for just a day, and I’ve made the trip to stay just a night, and neither of these are what I would recommend. Two nights even seems a bit rushed, and I have friends who won’t even consider staying less than two weeks. Generally speaking, the longer the better, as the state of absolute relaxation and disregard for time is enhanced by the day. Four nights is quite de-stressing, and this provides enough time to do everything desired. It used to be the rule to bring as many supplies, food and drink with you as possible, but besides a few essential items, Cabo this is no longer the case. With 3 grocery stores that sell most items at a reasonable cost, including wine and liquor, specialty products now make the most sense. Because of the absence of electricity, locals rely on candlelight for lost illumination, so long burning candles serve a practical need. When there is rain, there are mosquitoes, so repellent is exceedingly valuable at times as well, although most places have nets. Another essential commodity is suntan lotion, as the big light in the sky is powerful and relentless. One of the features of  Cabo Polonio is the lack of trees, so getting out of the sun is not so easy in hot weather. Therefore a hat is an important thing to have, and sometimes the only shade around. I would advise anybody to bring what they can comfortably carry, and I have made the trip toting several bottles of wine and specialty snacks. If you’re a fan of marijuana, now legal in Uruguay, definitely bring your own, as it is scarce and expensive.

This stretch of the Uruguay coast is pristine and primo

Driving to the entrance station is no problem, but cars are not allowed on the road through the dunes to the village. This absence of traffic is another of the positive attributes of the park, both for the lack of noise and relaxed surroundings. Parking is available and there is a daily charge. Since there are few vehicles allowed, and almost all either ‘grandfathered in’ or work trucks, it makes sense to take a bus and just get dropped off, saving the parking fee. Rutas del Sol makes three arrivals and pick ups each day, more in high season, and they can be booked and boarded at the main bus terminal at Tres Cruces in Montevideo. The cost is around US$40 for the 270 kilometer, 4 1/2 hour ride.

No matter  how you arrive, just make sure you do. Cabo Polonio has been my favorite place in Uruguay since I first visited, and years later, it still is. I make it every year regardless, and it’s a must see for every foreign visitor who comes here. I can’t recommend it when the weather is wet and stormy, but any other time it will be worth the effort. It’s a word that’s frequently overused, and almost a cliche, but Cabo Polonio is one of the rare places that is, no question, MAGIC.

One of the best places in the world to do absolutely nothing

48 Hours in Buenos Aires

Gallery, Library, Palace????? No the Waterworks Department

It’s surely one of the most impressive cities in South America, and a must see for any traveler, even folks who prefer the countryside. Having said that, it is a gigantic mass of humanity, and for many, two days and nights could be plenty. So here’s what to see and do to get a good return for 48 hours of your precious time, and without blowing your wad, as in budget, perv….

The most useful subway lines for visitors are the top two, green and red, ‘D’ and ‘B’. The vertical blue line, ‘C’, is also very handy

One thing that will prove to be very efficient and thrifty is to purchase a blue Subte card from kiosks and ticket windows in the subway stations, and there are many. The cost is minimal, so put some credit on there, which for two people for two days is about AR$300, less than US$10. Thus will get you around and downtown and back, as long as it’s before midnight, when the tracks stop dead. This will cut taxi costs by 90%. There are now six lines, and though they don’t cover the entire city, most notably La Boca, but they will get you close to most of the special sites and cool places.

Dog walkers here usually manage packs

I prefer to stay in the vast Palermo neighborhood, which actually encompasses Palermo Viejo, Soho, and Hollywood. This sector contains much of the very best eateries, bars, and nightclubs, so it makes sense to stay here instead of San Telmo, or elsewhere in the city center. I’d rather go there in the daytime and then return to Palermo for serious night tripping.

There are hundreds of affordable places to stay in Palermo, and I always use one of the hotel and hostel websites to locate them. Locations around Plaza Armenia and Plaza Italia are ideal, and basically anywhere in the giant grid surrounded by Santa Fe and Cordoba, and between Scalabrini Ortiz and Arevalo provide walking access to the prime spots.

The Recoleta barrio is mostly quite shiny

So, without further ado, here’s a master plan for extracting the juice from this planet sized city. Hop on the subway, lines B or D and ride to 9 de Julio station, and transfer to line C, there’s no extra charge. Get off and up at Independencia station and walk 5 blocks east to Defensa street, and follow it south to Plaza Dorrego. This is the heart of San Telmo, with heaps of old school BA flavor. There are lots of economical places to eat and drink, and every Sunday a huge street market. From here it’s a leisurely walk north through the Montserrat district to arrive at Plaza Mayo, surrounded by historical buildings and sites. Just a couple of blocks towards the water sits the swank Puerto Madero hood, which seems like it’s a different country altogether. New and modern is the rule here, and it makes for an enjoyable stroll past some landmarks such as the Puente de Las Mujeres, the Women’s Bridge.

Puente de la Mujeres in swank Puerto Madero

Continuing our march, we can trod past the Obelisk, smack dab in the middle of absurdly wide 9 de Julio Avenue, and walk on up Cordoba through the core of downtown or hop on at any subway station, connect to line H and unload at Aguero station. Here it’s a 12 block walk through the scrubbed Recoleta neighborhood, with lots of luxury for sale and rent and one extraordinary cemetery.

No, this isn’t D.C.

This is truly a walled mini city of the dead, with some very over the top tombs, holding the remains of many illustrious ‘Portenos’ such as Eva Peron. For myself, almost as impressive is the enormous Gomero tree in front of the entrance. The shade provided by this mammoth is extraordinary, and some of the lateral branches are now supported by braces. It’s a Swiss family Robinson monster, but don’t try to climb it.

The massive tree in front of La Recoleta cemetery

But back to the cemetery, where many of the mausoleums are like miniature buildings and absurdly gaudy. The closest subway access is the Aguero station on the new H line, which connect lines A, B, D, and E. The cemetery is free, although aficionados of such places may want to contract a guide to help navigate the hive of walkways and seemingly endless tombs. Recoleta is a shiny, expensive part of the city, but this city of the dead is worth an hour or two. After this trek a late lunch and siesta is deserved, so get back to your lodging and take a break. You deserve a brownie or a beer, take your pick.

Tonight is the night to take advantage of early dinner happy hour pricing at one of the first rate beef houses, which is a stalwart of the dining scene in BA. La Cabrera, at the corner of Thames and Cabrera, offers a 40% discount of the total check if you make it in to eat before 7:15. This is hours before the locals even begin to think about dinner and an opportunity to experience prime Argentine cuisine at a decent price. The big ribeye is perfect to share with a salad and a bottle of Malbec, and after this the tank will be full. Time to take a walk a few blocks across the tracks to Palermo Hollywood, and sample a few bars.

San Telmo’s Sunday Street Fair

A great first stop is Frank’s, almost hidden on Arevalo between Conde and Niceto. First pick up the phone and ask to come in, or state your reservation name, Then the bouncer will emerge, give you the once over, and if you’re accepted, let you enter a classy, old school cocktail lounge with a long bar and heavy drinks. Stay as long as you like.
Then, shuffle north and a couple of blocks west to Humboldt, turn right, and enter the Ferona Social Club, another hidden gem with a comfortable rooftop patio and lots of cush sofas and chairs. Our next stop is right around the corner at Carnal, with multi levels and a great place to meet friendly Portenos. Finally, now you’re ready to cross Niceto Vega and go in the fabled Niceto Club, a big place with two sides of music, one always live. This is where you can dance and kick out the jams until the sun comes up, or you hit the wall.

The Whore Mother – Palermo Soho

Day 2 begins with a stroll around Palermo to find some coffee and breakfast, and the choices number in the dozens. After fortification walk south towards the river and check out the vast parks that stretch for several miles along Avenida Libertador. This is where the botanical garden, Japanese Gardens, Rose Gardens, and Modern Art Museum are found, and it’s where the fit folk run, walk, bike, and roll on miles of paths. On a sunny warm day there are heaps of active peeps here, and you can rent a bike, or skates, or a paddle boat and join in.

Sunday at the park

Lunch can be had at a thousand places on the way back to your Palermo pad, and a fave for healthy food is Mark’s Deli & Coffee House, at Armenia and El Salvador. Strolling around Palermo close to Plaza Armenia takes you by every hip clothing store in the city, and the shopping crowd can be very alluring. The choices for everything are countless, spend as much time as needed, but don’t blow your dough on something goofy.

Tonight dinner can be later, as there’s no deadline for anything. A celebrated spot is Nola Gastropub at Gorriti and Alvarez. Nothing fancy, just Cajun cuisine, as in Gumbo, fried chicken, and craft beer. Order off the board, grab your grub and sit outside and survey the scene. They also serve classics like sweetbreads, red beans and rice, and killer cornbread. Load up, kick back, and get ready to pub crawl.

Which begins at BrukBar, on the corner of Costa Rica and Santa Maria de Oro. Classic cocktails and a bunch of party people at a real locals hangout. Another worthy stop is On Tap Craft Beer at Costa Rica and Humboldt, with 20 local beers on tap and a chill vibe. Our main target tonight is Rosebar, a huge Miami Beach type club with a giant dance floor, outside patio, and talent off the charts. Women get dolled up here like it’s New Years Eve, and there’s a cover charge until late for all the dudes. It’s a huge scene, and sits right next to the railroad tracks on Honduras. This is definitely the place you want to be going into the 4th quarter, with the game on the line, if you’ve got it in you.

The White House in Argentina is pink, Casa Rosada

That’s enough to squeeze into 48 hours, especially in this metropolis, and likely enough special memories to reminisce for months. Buenos Aires is a whole lot of city, especially to live in, but for a weekend getaway, it can’t be beat.

The Road to Carate, Costa Rica

One of several water crossings on the way to Carate from Puerto Jimenez

In a country, Costa Rica, renowned for terrible roads, this might be the worst of the lot. 42 kilometers is all that separates Puerto Jimenez from Carate, one of the 3 entrances to the spectacular Corcovado National Park, situated on the isolated Osa Peninsula. But it’s a hellish drive with 13 major water crossings, thousands of crater potholes and various other terrain problems capable of gutting any oil pan. Every article or report I’ve read in every guide book states that even with a high clearance 4wd vehicle, the potential for disaster looms large. The National Geographic Expedition catalog, while touting an excursion by boat, declared that the park was ‘unreachable by road’, certainly a misrepresentation of the facts. So, when the opportunity to try it with a 2wd Nissan sedan presented itself, there was no question.
We had to give it a go.

Make sure the windows are up

Leaving Puerto Jimenez, heading south, the dirt road is semi smooth, with multitudes of potholes and deep ruts, rolling through beautiful country and several ranches. About 5 k from town, the first water obstacle is reached, a small stream which is only troublesome during rainy season. The next crossing is much the same, shallow and flat, but the third presents a new degree in difficulty. This one is steep on both sides of the water, with an abrupt ridge that could stymie a tentative driver. But we didn’t have that problem, and kept on thrashing up and over a long muddy hill that climbs several hundred feet. Momentum is essential here, as a spinout could result in a stuck vehicle that would have no alternative but to back down , all the way to the water, to attempt it again. There are 3 large hills that need to be negotiated like this, so a slow truck could really get in the way at the wrong spot. Shortly, two more crossings are met, both of minimal difficulty, before another challenging spot of a wide river, flat but deeper than any before. Walking across before driving is highly advised at the worst of the crossings, both to find the shallowest line and to remove potentially problematic rocks. Number 7 is the most daunting of all, a deep river with steep banks up both sides and about 2 feet deep at it’s lowest. This is the one that requires careful study before committing, as any lack of momentum and you’re floating downstream. This crossing provides an alternative route, favored by motorcyclists, just upstream but the start is deep rutted mud, a very easy place to get stuck. If the river is running any higher than it was on that December day, the possible peril is accentuated, and we gave this barrier an 8.5. On the return trip, we had the great fortune of having a skip loader tractor scraping and then dumping gravel on the crossing to aid in underwater traction. Never the less, a couple of locals watching here were summarily amazed watching the Nissan emerge again.

Momentum is key

There are 6 more water crossings, none worse than 3.5 on the gruesome scale, but a thunderstorm can change everything. The Osa Peninsula received almost 400 inches of rain that season, the most ever recorded, so the condition of this road is variable at best. But besides mashing the plastic cowling underneath the front bumper on a couple of rough pitches, no damage was done to the rental, and even that was quickly re rigged manually. However, a lame driver could get a Hummer stuck in a number of places, so driving expertise and finesse trumps superior equipment. Due to rental car liability and possible repercussions, our driver shall remain anonymous, but his ability and experience driving challenging roads is prolific. High clearance is certainly useful, and 4wd will come in handy, but there are no guarantees here, and no insurance for poor judgement. One round trip here brings a new appreciation for roads, period, and just how bad some can get. There’s a heck of a payoff at the end of this one.
Go, and then make it back………

 

 

Corcovado National Park Costa Rica

As far as Costa goes, the souther the better

Yeah, I know Costa Rica’s not technically South America, but it’s actually further south than parts of Colombia, believe it or else. Besides that, it takes great care of its parks and reserves, hunting is illegal, and I love the place. Certainly, parts are being overdeveloped and some areas and towns are not so pretty, but the good places are great, and this article is about my favorite. For the most part, wild animals are treated with considerable care and respect, compared to many countries where they’re considered pests and nuisances to be eradicated. Here, they’re a big part of the family.

The local croc here is known as ‘El Guencho’

Costa Rica boasts 18 national parks, asylum for thousands of species and the conservation model of the third world. One of these refuges, Corcovado, is managed as a place where the wildlife rules supreme. Man is the visitor, with only slight concessions offered for our convenience, so the effort and endurance required to fully, or even partially experience the wonders there is substantial. This is how the CR government likes it, difficult for people, and low impact on the wildlife that abounds here.

Pizotes in the park

Some of the wildlife is not only wild, but downright dangerous, like the Bull Sharks and crocodiles that inhabit the bays and rivers in the park, some of which need to be crossed on foot, ideally at low tide, for obvious reasons. The only camping allowed in the entire park is on the grass at the 3 ranger stations, all situated on the Pacific coast- San Pedrillo, Sirena, and La Leona, from north to south. Besides short loops around the stations, there are only 2 actual trails, one running from north to south from San Pedrillo to La Leona, and another west to east from Sirena across the interior to Las Patos, which has no ranger station. Each of the stations is about 20 kilometers from the other, so serious stamina and wilderness savvy is compulsory. Ideally, a 4 or 5 day backpack across the park and back should be enough to get the jungle fever out of the system, and wildlife opportunities promise to be off the charts.

In this part of the country, you’re on your own

Another possible feat would be to get dropped off by a vehicle at the Los Patos entrance, then covering the 20 k to La Sirena, and spending the night there. Then another 20  k ramble southward, crossing both the Rio Sirena and Rio Claro rivers, and exiting the park at La Leona. The Rio Claro holds crocodiles, and the Sirena Bull Sharks, so timing the tides will be critical. This trek entails 40 jungle kilometers in two days, so maybe two nights camping at the Sirena station would be more practical.

Eyes up to the trees to spot these guys

I have stayed at the Corcovado Tent Camp, on Drake Bay and accessible from the north via the airports at Palmar Sur and Drake Bay. They offer economical packages including transportation from either airport, accommodations, meals, and guided park tours, and it’s a good value. The roads are funky and rough on the Osa peninsula, but the place can probably be accessed on the ground as well. At the time I went, it was definitely the best deal to get into the northern section of the park. The setting is idyllic.

https://www.corcovado.com/

There is no travel permitted off the trails whatsoever, as any venture off the beaten path is foolishly dangerous, poisonous snakes like the Fer De Lance and Bushmaster are numerous, and crocodiles inhabit virtually every river and stream. Lago Corcovado is a large inland lake that the ranger reported is absolutely packed with crocs and completely off limits to non reptiles, probably the closest this hemisphere gets to sub tropical Africa.

Guides are recommended for visitors, but anybody with minimal observation skills will see enough wildlife to keep scanning the bush nonstop. All four types of Costa Rican monkeys, Capuchin, Spider, Howler, and Squirrel, reside in large numbers here, along with sloths, anteaters, pizotes and lots more usually seen only in zoos. There are enough exotic birds to keep a fanatic binoculared for years, and reptile populations found elsewhere only in the Amazon basin. Because of Corcovado’s limited access points and resulting minimal human impact, the animals in the park have flourished, and that’s the key. The vibe of a primitive, primal, somewhat ominous jungle is obvious to all, and anybody looking for convenience and ease is dreaming.

Get used to this

But this is one of the great independent adventures still possible, and getting to the Osa very straight forward and uncomplicated. Fly or drive to Puerto Jimenez, and then take the bus or drive the sketchy 42 kilometer road to Carate, adjacent and just south of the park entrance at La Leona. Although two tent camps are slightly closer, the finest and best value accommodations are at the Lookout Inn, with luxurious open air cabinas built on the slope above the road. Outstanding meals are included, served in the main building, which sports two tremendous patios frequented by dozens of local birds. This is the place to stay before and after the jungle trek of a lifetime, and is also close enough to take day hikes into the park and make it back for a hot shower, a great meal, and a soft bed. The staff is endlessly friendly and helpful, and park passes are available, which otherwise have to be purchased on line, or in person, at the Bank of Costa Rica. Park visitors can no longer just show up at the entrance and pay the fee, passes must be procured in advance. All of this hullabaloo further insures that the human visitors will never intrude on the residents, and from all present indications, this is a place that will last.

http://www.lookout-inn.com/

Iguasu, from Both Sides Now

The Power and the Glory

Waterfalls are among earths finest features, happy places for millions and landmarks that punctuate the terrain and mark a change in levels. A torrent of water dropping off a cliff can be stared at for quite a spell, and many in the USA are fabled and mighty- Yosemite, Havasu, Yellowstone, Niagra. There is, however, one waterfall, way south of the equator, which exceeds almost all the others put together, and the effect it has on the senses makes it worth any effort to visit. The sheer scale of the place defies description, and invites absurd visual analogies, mine being, “As if the Mississippi River plummeted off the edge of the Grand Canyon”.  No matter that the Canyon is close to a mile deeper than Iguasu Gorge, but the disbelief index is still fully engaged. Ansel Adams would have difficulty doing this place justice with pictures. It has to be seen to be believed possible, much less merely believed.

Each of the separate falls, almost 300 total, has its’ own name

The Brazil portion of the Falls sports very nice and new visitor facilities, and everybody is loaded onto modern double decker busses for the ride a few kilometers to the viewing paths. A number of vista platforms connected by a kilometer of walkways provide very misty perspectives on one large section of the Falls. As many are just above the water, plastic bags and rain gear are invaluable, especially for photography purposes. Park admission was 37 reis, about $20, and there is an elevator to bring visitors from river level back up to the top where a restaurant and gift shop are located. The bus ride back completes the circuit, and several optional tours, on land and water, are available. Both parks are situated in prime rain forest, and critters abound, from coatimundis to monkeys, with lots of tropical butterflies and birds, including two types of fish eating eagles.

Show up early to see the wildlife

The Argentine side of the Falls offers a different experience altogether, with 6 kilometers of metal walkways and trails through the rainforest, and many more vistas of this extraordinary site. Admission is almost identical to Brazil’s park-$20, but that’s where the similarity ends. On the Brazil side, most of the trails are lower, just above the river, and the view is mostly up. Argentina’s park paths are almost all on top of the Falls, and the views are out, down, and superior. In addition to all the paths and trails, a small passenger train transports visitors several miles along the edge of the river out to a walkway that is perched on the rim of the river.Directly above the ‘Garganta del Diablo’, the Devil’s Throat, where a huge portion of the river drops into a 3 sided gorge, this is by far the most stunning section of all the Falls. The sheer force and volume of river dropping here literally leaves one reeling, and the hydraulic energy being released is seen, heard, and felt like an earthquake.

The walk out to the precipice of the Devil’s Throat is worth every step

 

From Argentina’s side, many of the comparatively smaller falls, still huge, all named, and in the hundreds, can likewise be appreciated individually. The tremendous network of pathways makes it possible to leave the crowds behind and really enjoy some stellar rain forest, and the wilderness of Isla San Martin is just a short boat ride across the river. Lots of concession stands sell food and drink to fuel the footwork on the walkways, and there’s room to roam. If one day is all the time allotted for Iguasu, spend it here. And if you don’t get soaked,  and I do mean waterlogged, you haven’t gotten close enough.

 

Vital Information:

Iguasu straddles the border between Brazil and Argentina, and each country has it’s own national park with visitor facilities designed to get a really good look at the spectacle. The Brazilian side is reached from the city of Foz do Iguasu, 10 miles away. Brazil’s park development is newer, with modern shuttle busses that transport several miles from the Visitor Center to the one kilometer of walkways adjacent to one section of the falls. Various optional tours are available, including boat trips as close to the chaotic water as is possible. Just like the Argentine side, Brazil’s park also provides a luxury hotel steps away from the viewing paths, Hotel Das Cataratas, rates starting about $250 per night and maybe worth it. The Argentine park has it’s own posh counterpart, the Sheraton International, also nicely located walking minutes to the Falls. But there are many better value hotels towards and back in both towns. On the Argentine side, Puerto Iguasu has dozens of accommodations, budget to plush. Across the big river, in Foz do Iguasu, The San Rafael, directly downtown, has clean rooms, a nice pool and many amenities for a quarter of the 4 star price. Taxis are plentiful and a short ride can take you to Paraguay, just a bridge across the river, where care and safety precautions should be exercised. Some border areas can be dicey, and this is one of them.

It’s actually quite easy to get from one park to the other by using the city busses that continuously connect Foz do Iguasu with Puerto Iguasu, with a quick stop at the border crossing. And each country has it’s own airport adjacent to their park, if you’d rather forego the 8 hour night bus from Curitiba which I took. Connections from Sao Paolo, Rio, Porto Alegre and Buenos Aires are frequent.

Cordoba, Prize of the Plains

Catedral del Sagrado Corazon        
 

I’d long heard about the city, fabled for beautiful women and big heat, and made it a point to see for myself coming back from farther north in Argentina. It’s an easy place to arrive and get around, as both the bus and train stations are located next to each other on Guzman boulevard, which runs along the Suquia River, which wraps around the north side of the city center. The streets are laid out on a grid, with many uniform, square blocks. Another feature is that almost every street is a one way, making it easy to maneuver on foot or a bike without feeling like you’re in traffic hell. As soon as I landed, I walked 11 blocks to the superb Hostel Terraza, one of the best I’ve stayed at. It sits 3 blocks away from Plaza San Martin,
one of the historic points of historic interest. A number of well kept museums and cathedrals are within a short walk from this point.

Electric trams run these streets as well

Cordoba boasts an electric trolley, which runs on Belgrano Street, which becomes Tucuman after it crosses Dean Funes, which itself changes to Rosario de Santa Fe. This switching of street names is a confusing feature if rambling from one side of town to the other. Just be aware and get used to it, as it’s rather rare elsewhere. In terms of proximity,  within a half kilometer radius of Plaza San Martin lie 18 different noted city attractions.

 

Once I dropped my pack and started exploring, I walked 15 minutes to the green grass of Parque Sarmiento, where many locals walk their dogs. There are a number of monuments here, including a tower that serves as a fine landmark. I wandered into the adjacent Museum of Natural Science, paid the 15 peso admission, and spent almost an hour examining all types of compelling things.

Mineral collection at the Museum of Natural Science      

 

It’s worth at least double that amount, and also has a curved flying saucer roof that can be strolled to the top for a fine aerial view. It also must have been popular with skateboarders at one time, as a number of barriers have been installed to keep the rollers from enjoying the sloped roof.

Skating and rolling is discouraged       Roof of the Natural Science Museum

 

Almost directly across the street is the ultra prominent Plaza Espana, notable for the fact that it is the point of convergence for 10 different avenues, all radiating outward from here. As populous a city as Cordoba is, with a million and a half residents, the center is surprisingly compact, and easy to walk. There’s plenty of traffic, but since 90% of the time it’s coming from one direction only, crossing streets is pretty much stress free.

Another notable intersection is the multi street terminus 6 diagonal blocks due north at basically the absolute center of the city center. Patio Olmos, Cordoba’s most important and prestigious shopping mall, is a striking multi facade building remodeled from a historic architectural structure. It faces the fountain roundabout at the intersection of Boulevard San Juan and Avenida Velez Sarfield, two of the foremost traffic arteries in the city. Two other main roads also converge here, and it’s a big open intersection where lots of people meet.

Patio Olmos Shopping Mall               

There are a several streets just north of here which are now pedestrian walkways, lined with shops and historic buildings. he longest, at 25 de Mayo, runs 8 blocks and intersects another, San Martin, itself 7 blocks in length. There are three shorter pedestrian malls in this area, close to Plaza San Martin, and the busiest, Obispo Trejo, covers five blocks. Not often do you find so many traffic free walkways in the absolute center of a big city, and it all adds to the attraction of the place.

One of many pedestrian walkways in  Cordoba

But for aficionados of the vida nocturna, there is one outstanding neighborhood that rivals any belt of bars and nightclubs anywhere, including Austin and Medellin. This is the barrio of Guemes, four blocks south of Patio Olmos, where several clocks are teeming with beer bars, taverns, micro breweries, cafes, nightclubs, and live music venues. There must be 50 different establishments in this zone, many massive with double and triple levels and giant outdoor patios. A dedicated night tripper could spend the best part of a week here and not spend time in the same place twice.

Lots of  live music in Guemes                

It’s also the home of a small, humble sandwich shop which became a go to favorite immediately. Marfer, on Laprida, at the edge of the night zone, serves terrific sandwiches with the crust cut off(migas) at a price that’s hard to believe. Once I found it, after hearing some good reviews, I returned to try another and even bought one to go for the train ride. 60 Argentine pesos, less than 3 dollars, is a bargain for what they offer, and they’re open from 8 am until almost midnight. Their only negative is being closed on Sunday and Monday, but for 5 days a week they can’t be beat.

 

Marfer sandwich        Delicious and economical as hell

Of all the attributes Cordoba boasts, certainly one is the quantity of great looking women, of all age groups. I had heard mention of this before, jabbering with friends who had traveled to the area, and popular belief places only Rosario above Cordoba, in this category. But after spending time in the second city, I can absolutely state that’s it’s reputation as a hotbed of beauties is 100% accurate. I don’t know Rosario yet, but of it’s in the same class as Cordoba that is a very strong endorsement.

Yes, there’s heaps to like about the city, as it is large enough to offer anything without crossing the line into urban stress lab conditions. With lots of open space, organized and orderly, the primary bummer would only seem to be the heat that engulfs the region for much of the year. I had heard about it, and thus planned my trip to arrive at the end of April, hopefully past the big heat of the summer. Nevertheless, it was plenty warm, with temps reaching the mid 30’s which is in the 90’s on the North American Fahrenheit range. But I grew up and spent plenty of time in Arizona, so I knew that there are ways to deal with hot weather, and here it is likely the same. But probably best to plan any trip outside of December through March, just the same.

Tower in front of Sarmiento Park        Cordoba

Finally, the hostel I stayed at in Cordoba was one of the finest I’ve ever had the pleasure of flopping in. Hostel Terraza, in the heart of the downtown at the intersection of Tucuman and Dean Funes, is one I would recommend enthusiastically. In the hospitality business, it’s the people that make the difference, and every member of the staff was super friendly, helpful, and eager to inform at all times. The building has a superb rooftop patio with a barbecue grill, and makes for a fine place to enjoy a beer and watch the sunset. The building is on two rather busy streets, so there is some traffic noise, but the convenience of the location made up for that in my opinion. Bunk beds are cheap, 4 to a room, and bathrooms and the entire interior are kept clean as can be. 8 blocks from the killer nightlife sector, and less than that from almost everything else, the Terraza is a worthy place to base out of.

Cordoba is a gem of a city that merits a few nights to enjoy and appreciate. I heard lots of positive reviews for small towns and places to see a little ways out of town, such as La Falda and Villa Carlos Paz, but in my limited interval there I couldn’t make it. Next time around, and there will surely be one, just not by train.

Train Train The Slow Roll out of Buenos Aires

Retiro station is one of the classics on the continent

This article has nothing to do with the legendary railroad, the Patagonia Express, which runs in the southern province of Chubut, or the train of the clouds, a tourist line operating out of Salta. This is an account, first hand of course, about the passenger trains operating out of Retiro station in Buenos Aires that rolls to Tucuman and Cordoba in the north.

I was curious about these lines because I had heard that the new administration in Argentina was robustly rebuilding and restoring train lines throughout the north of the country. That may well be true, there is work being done, but ask a local about it and he’ll laugh. Progress is leisurely, to say the least. Never the less, there are a lot of signs claiming that the train is coming back to say, Jujuy, and clearly there is work being done.

So, after futilely trying to purchase tickets on line at the official website for passenger sales, I blindly got to the station one Thursday morning to buy a ticket to get first to Tucuman. This leg would help me get to Salta and further into the Humahuaca Quebrada, north of Jujuy, and close to the border with Bolivia.

I was informed that the tickets to Tucuman were sold out, so I went to Plan B, to try to at least take this train to Rosario, where I would improvise and hop a long distance bus if need be. I was able to make this purchase for 370 Argentine pesos, which was about US$18, a relative bargain for a pullman seat, which has no adjacent seat, the only upgrade from first class, which is slightly cheaper. But if you prefer to have nobody sitting, or sleeping next to you, it’s worth the extra scratch. I boarded the fairly new coach and settled into my seat, # 37. Our departure was slow and steady, rolling out of the giant station yards and rusted hulks, taking a northern vector through the greater metropolis of BA.

It took close to an hour and a half to escape the sprawl and slums of the city, with lots of squalor and garbage visible from my slow rolling window. The average speed at take off never exceeded 25 mph, which would explain the 30 hour scheduled time to complete a journey of 700 miles, incredibly, 4 hours more than when first completed in 1896. Apparently, the continued deterioration of the tracks, and inadequate maintenance all this time, is the reason for the crawl. At many places along the way there are places where workers are busy doing something, and hopefully getting the iron horse back up to speed is the goal.

If you’ve got the time, and a good book, the train is the way to go

The terrain opened up and became rural when we finally got out of the BA suburbs, with lots of horses and dogs everywhere. The dwellings were predominantly concrete blocks or reddish bricks, with lots of rebar sticking out. My fellow travelers were all locals, in all age classes but all economizers like myself. As night fell, we were steadily passing through agricultural country, fields of who knows what, tractors and wide open spaces. Our arrival into Rosario was tedious, like a glacier, and this city appeared to be very spread out with no obvious center. At 8:15 our crawl ended at Rosario Norte, where I assumed I would get off, grab my stuff, and head for the bus station which was not far away. However, as I passed through the station lobby I decided to inquire from the lady at the ticket window if the train continuing on to Tucuman was indeed sold out. She informed me that there actually were seats available, but her computer was not working properly so couldn’t process the transaction. So she emerged from the office, escorted me outside, and asked one of the conductors to assist me and get me on the train. He helpfully complied, walked me back onto the train I had just departed, took me to a first class seat and told me to wait there, while he took my ID and processed my ticket.( As I write this now, the Trenes Argentina website is completely down, so that is a major problem with their operations which you might think would be easy enough to resolve. (Think again.)

So now I was back to my original plan, and after waiting around a few minutes, I got antsy and decided to go find the dude, who had told me that the dining car would be opening at 9pm. I found him on his way to get me, take my cash, and give me a ticket. The only problem was that I only had US dollars and a credit card, neither of which he could take, This temporary snafu was resolved when an affable local, overhearing our conversation, offered to exchange my dollars for pesos, no problem. After a quick calculation of the current rate, he gave me 2040 Argentine pesos for my C note, and I in turn gave 400 of those to the conductor. I celebrated solving this snag with a ham and cheese sandwich, about the only item still available on the menu, along with a sprite for $80. Damned reasonable on a train to nowhere, and I wolfed it down back at my first class seat with no neighbors. There were lots of empty seats here, another indictment of the thoroughly dysfunctional train website.

Settling back into my seat, and wisely getting my down sleeping bag out for a pillow and comforter combo, I contorted myself into every angle to get some sleep. The train seats do not recline much, and the massive metal armrest between seats is immovable and a pain in the ass. Nevertheless I did manage to doze off into spells of tormented sleep, punctuated by bursts of racket, ranging from crying kids, to hacking coughs, scattered ringtones and assorted metallic creaks. The rhythm of the train would soon rock me back into a trance, from which I awoke every half hour or so. I watched a lot of barren landscape roll by, and several abandoned looking settlements, ghostlike reminding me of a Twilight Zone episode. Some, like Ceres, had a dilapidated train station, now almost in ruins, from when the old train used to stop there.

Waking up to early light at 7, I was staring out the window when another tiny burg, Pinto, passed by. Here the houses were made of adobe, much more basic than the south in this dry desert. Lots of mesquite trees, cactus, wire fences and horses and dogs. The only other critters I saw were birds, one of which built jumbo branch nests on top of the old power line poles, some of which were close to washing machine size, similar to the ospreys in Baja California. One after another, but I never did see which fowl was doing all the work.

My train mates were a jovial bunch, many traveling with families, and the bathrooms were kept clean as could be expected. The traffic on the nearby road put our pace to shame, and even some of the birds were leaving us in the dust. The big plus was the hypnotic rhythm of the tracks, canceling out many other more irritating sounds, like the branches rubbing against the exterior of the coach. At Colonia, another one horse town, I hopped off to grab a couple of 10 peso empanadas, nothing fancy but hot and adequate. The train actually performs a maneuver of sorts after leaving Rosario, where by we are now facing backwards, leaving the sensation that we’re heading back to big BA.

Actually, we’re continuing north, the land is flat as a pancake with no hills visible in either direction. The nearby traffic is almost all produce trucks, all covered so I can’t tell what they’re hauling, but not much else besides the odd bus or motorcycle. The desert here is quite lush, prickly stuff, similar to parts of Arizona or Mexico, and a machete would be essential to get through the tangle. Goats seem to have replaced cattle as the primary livestock, probably a better beast for this absolute briar patch of cactus and stickies that would be a problem for most living creatures. A few narrow trails, but very forbidding country.

The sky was solid overcast al day but no rain or big wind. I was getting antsy towards the end of the line, timing our progress against the km markers I would see, but I quit when I realized how slow we were going. Kind of like watching food commercials when you’re hungry. I had a free reservation in Tucuman at a place called La Gurda, where I was looking forward to a hot shower, decent meal, and a cold beer.

The advertised 30 hour ride actually took 31, with an excruciatingly slow arrival in Tucuman that was more like a reentry to earth. This was an ancient looking terminal, with heaps of old cars and locomotives rusting away. There was a huge welcoming mob here awaiting their arrivals, and I unloaded, and staggered through the crowd and out the front door. I got approximate directions to my place, and set off for the 5 block walk to find it. As it turned out, nobody knew of the place, it was semi hidden but directly across the street from a busy police substation. I had a $US 21 dollar private room with shared bathroom and breakfast included. The only negative was the smoking area in a courtyard about 15 feet from my door, so I had to get the group to pipe down twice later that night so I could get some z’s. And that was with earplugs, but it worked out.

After a week spent in Salta, Tilcara, and Calilegua, I arrived via night bus from Salta to Cordoba. It’s a grand city that I will expound upon soon, but this piece is all about the train rides. Despite a gruesome 31 hours on the way from Buenos Aires to Tucuman, I was determined to take my medicine and finish what I started with the 19 hour return to Retiro station. Thus, as soon as I arrived at Cordoba’s bus station I walked directly across the street to the train terminal and bought my ticket for 3 days later, just to make sure I got on……very convenient and $600 for the pullman back, US$29. When I boarded that train, Sunday at midday, I was fighting an exotic cold, and had already bought snacks and water for the trip.

The passengers today were an older bunch, likely returning to the big city after visiting family over the weekend. We pulled out of the station right on time, and again our takeoff could be measured with an hourglass and not a stopwatch. Of course this very poky departure provides plenty of time to study the neighborhoods passed through and examine the city scene with a leisurely, steady eye. The afternoon passed by and I was grateful to have a good book to read. The scape became solid fields and plains for hours, sunset came and went, and back out came my sleeping bag to hunker down with as night fell. The coach was not very full, so as I was looking around for a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, I found a set of unoccupied first class seats with a pair facing each other across a fixed table. I was able to stretch out from one seat beneath the table to get my feet on the facing seat, which enabled me to extend almost flat. This was an improvement on all other configurations so far, and I was able to catch some solid z’s. I awoke as we were entering greater Buenos Aires, and checked out the hordes of commuters heading to work on an early monday morning. We arrived on time at 7:30, I grabbed a cup and croissant in the station, ambled downstairs and boarded the line C subway and lurched across town to Constitucion station. Here I got out on the street, brazil I believe, and walked 13 blocks to Colonia Express, where I waited 3 hours for my boat. When I finally arrived at Tres Cruces bus station in Montevideo, my passage from Cordoba had taken 29 hours total. I’m glad that I did it, but there will likely be no repeat of this mission.