We're both big fans of train travel, since trains are usually smoother rides and you can wander around somewhat on long trips, so Tuesday we bought two "tourist" tickets on the train out of Buenos Aires tonight to Cordoba. (The tourist seats are the cheapest they offer--bench seats in an open carriage. We were going to splurge on sleeper tickets, but there were no seats available in anything other than tourist class. That would be strike one.) We hit a snag when we arrived at the train station this morning to dump off our packs before heading back to the Fine Arts musuem, though. There is no train going tonight. Strike two.

This wouldn't be such a problem, except there are only two trains a week to Cordoba: Monday and Friday nights. And the very nice young man who translated for us (our Spanish being extremely poor to the point of non-existant), said they don't know if the train will be running on Monday, either, because of the farmers´ strike. It turns out that the strike has something to do with the train schedule. David and I aren't quite sure why, but the implication was that the train workers are joining the farmers in their protest. Strike three.

So we bought bus tickets, instead. And we're out.

Posted by Leah | Permalink

It's easy to blend in Buenos Aires. It has such a big population (around 13 million!) and there are so many European descendants, that without hiking boots and backpacks, no one really takes much notice to us. That is, of course, until we speak. With no formal training in castallano (what Spanish is called here) conversations are sort of a verbal doubles ping pong game. For example, when buying train tickets, after a greeting, I toss out a word. The response is quick and muddled to my ear. Then, Leah says a Spanish word. Now, from a different direction, a new person helpfully responds with a quick phrase. My turn: I accidentally lob an Italian word into the mix. For the next few moments, the four of us take turns staring at each other. Without warning more words fly by and the volley continues for some time. Eventually with English, Spanish, French, Italian, crude drawings and pantomime, consensus is found.

Other than having awkward conversations, we've been doing what we love: walking. Our somewhat random routes take us to little fruit stands, pastry shops, parks, coffee shops, universities, libraries, supermarkets, dog parks, museums and internet places. We roam on broken sidewalks, pass professional dog-walkers, get dripped on by air-conditioners, pass flower vendors and squeeze past huge magazine stalls. And then, at the end of the day, we return to the San Jorge, a comfortable, little family-run hotel in the Palermo district, where we watch dubbed and sub-titled American TV series and movies. The pretense is, of course, to improve our Spanish, but really all this time in front of the set just leaves us bleary-eyed and wondering why television is so bad, why Homer's voice sounds so wrong and why most American TV series are either medical or detective soap-operas.

So in Cordoba, our next stop, we'll just walk around, forgo the hypnotic television experience and use the table tennis method. In the end, it does work and who doesn't like to break the monotony of their day with a game?

Posted by David | Permalink | Comments (1)

Itinerary for March 16, 2008:

Wake up in Christchurch and breakfast in the tent before the sun rises.

Toss the tent around while packing up.

Walk to the airport because you´re about to spend 24 hours either hanging around various airports or sitting on planes.

Continue reading "picture a day, special edition: international dateline" »

Posted by David | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well, we´ve become quite quiet, haven´t we. New Zealand is not the best place to update a blog: internet access is rather hideously expensive and incredibly slow. And then backcountry camping for weeks at a time doesn´t really help. But most importantly, for us, New Zealand proved uninspiring.

I was more excited about going to New Zealand than any of the other countries on our trip (except when it involved seeing friends in Italy and India, and meeting family in Australia). But there´s such a gap between expecting something to be great, and having an experience that lives up to that expectation. Not that New Zealand isn´t lovely: the mountains are glorious and their national parks system, as run by DOC, is, if not the best in the world, really, really impressive. There is no park entrance fee, backcountry camping is allowed, there are thousands of trails, and you can get to all of the parks on public transportation, though that can be a tad costly.

But other than the parks, NZ is rather "iffy." The towns are unispired in their sprawling blandness, the food essentially English (so, boring), and the people are not nearly as nice as we had been led to believe. Not that they´re terrible, they´re just not as spontaneously generous as we´d thought they´d be. All of which is fine, except that we were "expecting" something rather different, and of course ended up disappointed. But the next place is always better, right?

Posted by Leah | Permalink

Itinerary for Feb 21, 2008:

Wake up on a high-altitude meadow an hour from the peak of Mount Avalanche.

Filter water...seriously.

Stop to enjoy the plant life.

Continue reading "picture a day: arthur's pass national park, new zealand" »

Posted by David | Permalink | Comments (4)