Uruguay

We hadn´t planned on going to Uruguay, but we sure are glad we did.  After Iguazu and a couple of days in Buenos Aires, we found ourselves with some extra time on our hands.  Since Uruguay is known for some amazing beaches, we decided to spoil ourselves with some surf and sand before heading back to cold, rainy winter in Portland.  So we hopped a ferry across the Rio de la Plata to the port of Montevideo.  A quaint little city, it was the smallest, and sleepiest, of all the South American capitals we´ve visited.  A nice break from the big cities of Argentina, the city´s languid plazas, palm trees, and friendly locals whisper, "Relax, you´re in Montevideo."  The people are content to drink their mate (an infusion of the yerba plant for which they carry a thermos of hot water wherever they go) and eat delicious feina (a pizza bread made from chickpeas).  While lacking in the typical ´touristy´style attractions that characterize other parts of South America, Montevideo can still put on a good show.  We were fortunate enough to catch an informal street exhibition of the tambores, a lively scene of drumming and dancing in anticipation of Carnivale.  Each neighborhood has their own group and the competition is friendly but fierce, as they march through the streets with the barrio dancing, drinking, and socializing along the way.  It was here we met a friendly local, Gustavo, who took us to his artist friend´s beautiful house-turned-hostel where we headed to the roof terrace to drink beer, eat pizza, and watch the festivities from above.  The night was a fantastic experience of both the vibrant culture and warm hospitality of Uruguay.
As much as we liked Montevideo, we came for the beach, so we headed a couple hours east along the coast to the trendy Punta del Este.  The sandy playground of wealthy Uruguayans, porteños from Buenos Aires, and celebrities around the world, Punta del Este is where you come to show off your bod, party, and relax on the shore.  We were only interested in the latter, however, so we spent our time playing in the high surf, reading on the beach, and working on our tans.  Since the end of our trip was around the corner, it was a nice way to unwind and feel like lazy, rich vacationers, rather than exhausted, poor backpackers. 
While we would ultimately end our trip in Buenos Aires (next and final post!), Uruguay was a nice retreat into the carefree, gracious, and laid-back South America we have come to love.

Our hostel in Montevideo was in the Old City, where you could see the ocean from three directions.

Downtown from the boardwalk.

Gotta love the colonial architecture with palm trees.

Pretty trees and plazas.

Tambore show!

Dancing in the street!

The drummers lit fires to tune their drums.

The party continued well into the night.

The quieter side of Punta del Este, where we shared sangria and watched the sunset.

We will miss this!

Iguazu Falls via Cordoba/Salta

After some time well spent in Mendoza drinking wine, swimming, eating asada, drinking wine, etc. we had to make an important decision on where to go next.  While most of our trip has been spent heading south along the Pan-American highway, Mendoza was a crossroads.  Do we go south to Patagonia, east to Buenos Aires, or to northern Argentina?  We really wanted to go to Patagonia, but it was the middle of high season, we didn´t have much camping equipment, inflation is running rampant through Argentina, and the bus prices were much higher than we anticipated, so we decided to save Patagonia for another trip.  Iguazu Falls, though, was high on our list of must-sees so we decided to spend the next week heading there through northern Argentina.  Our first stop on the way was Cordoba, a major university city of busy streets, Jesuit churches, and beautiful young people.  We spent our time wandering the plazas and churches, looking for craft markets, and escaping the heat at the movies where we learned that you can get half-sweet, half-salty popcorn.  Next, we headed to Salta, an ugly city surrounding a beautiful central plaza.  The main highlight for us in Salta was going out on the town to the local "peña" shows.  Meaning "pain" these traditional mournful songs are the country music of Argentina, complete with lots of dancing gauchos. We heard they can get quite rowdy in the late hours but we weren´t up for staying out until 5 am to find out.  We are still trying to adjust to the Argentine clock, with breakfast at 9am, lunch at 1pm, followed by a few hour siesta, snack at 8 pm, dinner at 12 am, pre-party until 3 am, and club from 3 am to sunrise.  As a couple that likes to eat often and drink early, this would prove to be a challenge throughout Argentina.
Our final stop before Buenos Aires was Iguazu Falls, an amazing set of waterfalls straddling the Argentina/Brazilian borders. Set in an picturesque jungle preserve, these falls are truly a natural wonder of the world.  Located where the river Iguazu plunges over the Parana Plateau, the result is an almost 2 mile stretch of falls ranging in height of 200-260 ft tall, culminating in the Devil´s Throat, a massive U-shaped cataract so named because of it´s thunderous power.  We were lucky enough to see this waterall from both the top, via a large catwalk, and below, via a boat tour which takes you dangerously close to the falls.  A bit of a splurge, this boat tour was absolutely worth it once you are plunged deep into the depths of the cataract, not to mention a great way to beat the stifling jungle heat.  Since we visited the falls on two days, we were able to thoroughly explore the park and see all that Iguazu has to offer, including a great hike to a waterfall where we stripped off our sticky clothing and went for a swim.  An unforgettable experience, now we know why, upon seeing Iguazu for the first time, Eleanor Roosevelt exclaimed "Poor Niagra!".

Sunny days and old churches in Cordoba.

Old school.

Cool cars and beautiful plazas in Salta.

Dancing gauchos at the peña.

Out on the town late in Salta.

Iguazu Falls! Well, part of it. These were waterfalls on a grand scale.

Oliver approves.

One of the many viewpoints and trails throughout the huge park.

Devil´s Throat

Getting ready to get up close and personal with the falls.

Real close.

Real personal.

Pictures can hardly capture the beauty but we took lots anyways.

Curious monkeys abound, much to Laura´s delight.

 

Coatie crossing.

Can we just stay forever?

Cooling down in the waterfall.

Happy travelers!

Mendoza

Ah Argentina. We´ve been waiting for you. We´ve heard you have succulent beef and delicious wine. After hockey pucks and vinegar in the northern countries, we swore off the good stuff until we arrived in your land of steak and Malbec.  Sure we cheated a bit in Chile, the wine was quite tasty and cheap, but we saved our splurging for you. Thank you for not dissapointing us.
As the New Year and Laura´s birthday approached, we took our final trip across the Andes (we will miss the amazing scenery but not the stomach-turning switchbacks) and arrived in Mendoza, the heart of Argentine wine country. Our first taste of Argentina´s finest would be by bike. Although it took a bit of convincing Laura, who hasn´t been on a bike for over a decade, this was a great way to see, and taste, what Mendoza had to offer. Accompanied by a Canadian, an Aussie, and a Swiss, we were a happy, and buzzed, group of gringos riding through town and country. While not all were good (I´m talking to you Weinhardt who didn´t even give us a taste of Malbec), some were outstanding (cute little organic Pulmary that opened up a reserve bottle for Laura´s birthday). The ride ended on a high note with a trip to a home-made chocolate and liqueur shop. Run by the sweetest old lady with a nasty sense of humor, for a couple bucks we got an amazing array of olive spreads, jams, chocolate, and two healthy pours of any liquor. The chocolate hazelnut liqueur was so good we had to buy a bottle (which went perfectly with some vanilla ice cream). But the real star was home-distilled absinthe, served up with the requisite fire and sugar. Warned to drink it slowly, although in Spanish, Laura and the Canadian took it as a shot, which got wide eyes from the old lady and prompted her to usher us out into the garden, where she served us delicious macaroons in celebration of Laura´s birthday. We returned to the hostel where we layed by the pool and hungrily awaited the asada, or BBQ, that night.  At about 10pm (early dinner by Argentine standards), the whole hostel sat down and indulged in a buffet of grilled beef and wine. Covered in delicious meat juice and a bit drunk, it was the perfect way for us to celebrate Laura´s birthday.
Feeling a bit fragile from the previous night´s festivities, we slept in, layed by the pool, ate a delicious charcuterie plate, and readied ourselves for New Year´s Eve. Since most restaurants were closed, we decided to cook up a feast, rib-eye steak (so cheap!), garlic mashed potatoes, and tomato-zucchini salad, with the requisite bottle of champagne of course. Needless to say, it was a great way to ring in the new year.
Our final splurge in Mendoza would be a high-class tour and tasting of some of the best wineries in Mendoza. Outside our budget, but rationalized by Laura´s birthday, we indulged in some of the finest wines Argentina has to offer. But the real draw was the five-course lunch and wine pairing. Gourmet food and delicious wine? Yes, please. We felt like kings and queens. But after months of living out of packs and eating mostly chicken and rice, it was a splurge well worth it.
So thank you again, Mendoza, for making our first taste of Argentina so delicious.

Ciao Chile, Hola Argentina!

One of the largest casks in the world. That´s a lot of wine!

How are them grapes?

Proof that Laura rode a bike.

Chorizo, wine, and new friends.

Absinthe. Drink slowly!

Birthday macaroons.

Happy New Year from Argentina!

One of the largest smelling rooms in existence.
They had over  60 different scents that characterize wine.

Post gourmet lunch and wine pairing.
See all those glasses? That´s a lot of damage.

Anybody want to go in on a vineyard and move here?

Chile

Feeling exhausted from our busy adventures in Peru, we decided it was time to kick back with a little R&R.  This is still a vacation, right? And what better place to do that than the beach!  So we ate our last grenadilla (a delicious little fruit with crunchy seeds in a sweet, yet slimy, membrane), hopped a bus to Tacna, and found a driver to take us across the border.  Rolling into Chile in a Ford towncar on its last legs, we found ourselves in the northern city of Arica, a busy port town with one very important attraction: miles of sandy beach!  Our hostel Sunny Days, a great little place to crash for 4 days due to its friendly Kiwi/Chilean owners, buffet breakfasts, and 2 kitchens, was outside of the city but had the advantage of being close to the best beach and a huge market.  With fresh fruits and vegetables, a butcher shop, and bakery bread, we would take full advantage of the nearby market and cook most of our meals while in Arica.  This was soft on our budget as we soon realized that eating out in Chile was much more expensive than Peru.  In fact, crossing the border quickly made it clear that we were not in Andean country anymore.  Prices doubled, mountainous highlands turned to flat desert, modern fashion replaced traditional indigenous dress, and Spanish became unrecognizable.  Just when we thought our Spanish was improving, Chile goes and throws it out the window.  Granted, most of the Spanish world can´t understand Chileans, with their refusal to pronounce "s", the end of words, and annoying habit of slurring and mumbling.  This "unique" Spanish would become worse the farther south we headed, culminating in the capital of Santiago.  Before we made it there, though, we would have to contend with traveling in Chile at Christmas time.  After basking in the hot sun and cool surf of Arica, we caught the last bus available to La Serena, an up and coming beachtown half-way to Santiago.  One of our longest bus rides, and definitely the worst, this trip was just plagued with problems.  For starters, we quickly realized something was wrong with the bus when it was incapable of going more than 20 mph.  Since the journey was 23 hours at normal speed, we shuddered to think of how much longer it would take. Finally, after 7 hours of crawling by, we changed buses to one that actually moved faster than a bicycle.  None of this seemed to bother a large family of Chileans who surrounded our seats, however, as the bus ride was fiesta time to them.  This wouldn´t be so bad except for the fact that at least 4 of them wanted to listen to their own music, loud.  Apparently they don´t believe in headphones here.  After stopping again at 4am for an inspection by the military, we were finally allowed to sleep without the use of earplugs.  Unfortunately, we still had to spend most of the next day on the bus with the ecclectically musically inclined Chileans.  As we neared La Serena we were anxious to get off the bus.  Just outside the city, we stopped at a fruit and vegetable market and, seeing other people get off the bus, we thought that maybe this was the stop.  They told us no, we aren´t there yet, they´ll let us know.  Five minutes later, the bus stops and two guys get off.  Thinking that we must be very close now, but confused because we are getting on an express-way, we stare in disbelief out the window as we see the bus terminal pass and become increasingly smaller in the distance.  Running up to the front, Oliver explains to the drivers that we were supposed to get off in La Serena, but the drivers can´t just stop on the express-way.  Knowing that every second driving is going to increase the long walk back, they finally stop on the side of the road.  Tired, dirty, and cursing Chilean buses, we had to walk the long journey back along shady railroad tracks where Laura pierced her foot on some sharp debris (good thing we got that tetanus shot!).  To add insult to injury, our hostel was located only 5 minutes walk from the bus terminal we failed to stop at.  After an hour walk, we arrived at our hostel where we got more bad news. We had decided to stay at Maria´s Casa, a large house run by a friendly older woman, Maria, and her grown sons.  Since it was Christmas, we purposely chose a family hostel to make the holiday feel more homey.  When we got there, however, we learned that the family was not going to be around, but we were free to stay with the run of the house.  Maria, sweet old lady, apologized profusely for not being able to cook us anything but gave Oliver a tour of the kitchen and house and showed him the china cabinet where we could drink our wine out of proper glasses.  Fortunately, we would not be alone in the house for Christmas Eve, as we were invited to dine with a group of Austrians who went all out with a meal of goulash, spaetzel, and chocolate fondue for dessert.  An Israeli would join us and explain, with the wine and Scotch flowing, how the New Year was actually just the circumcision of the year.  I´m not sure we completely understood.  We would be on our own for Christmas dinner, however, and would spend the day braising a chunk of meat in red wine (still not sure what it was because Chilean cuts are different than the rest of the world), roasting potatos, and sauteeing garlic green beans.  To add a litte tradition to the holiday, and because everything else was closed, we went to the movies (twice!) where we learned that Chilean movie popcorn is really sweet kettlecorn.  To induce diabetic shock, they add M&M´s to it.  It´s been fun to see the little differences, and the movies weren´t bad either.  So although we dearly missed our friends and family, we still had a very unique and merry Christmas.
Our next stop was the capital city of Santiago, a modern metropolis with many different and unique barrios.  With its bohemian atmosphere, art vibe, and old mansions we were drawn to the Barrio Brasil.  Our hostel was in one such mansion, complete with winding staircases, vaulted ceilings, swimming pool, and racous Frenchmen for roommates.  We spent our time in Santiago wandering the different neighborhoods, eating completos (hot dogs with just about every condiment known to man), dodging locals on the many pedestrian walkways, and trying to nail down this large and diverse city.  At times, we felt like we could be in any major American city while others felt distinctly Chilean.
In parting, Chile wasn´t our favorite country.  Compared with the exotic and the ancient in the northern Andean countries, Chile was just a little too much like home, modern and chaotic.  But the hospitality and curiosity which is present throughout South America still extends to this long strip of a nation.  Plus, they had really good cheap wine.

A bit of an aggressor, Chile has gone to war with all of its neighbors at one point and loves to show off it´s heroes.

View of Arica from atop El Morro, the site of a major battle between Chile and Peru.

Lying on the beach it was easy to forget its Christmas time.

Delicious Christmas Eve dinner!

Visiting an artisan craft market in Santiago.

We love the plazas.

The old and new in central Santiago.

Walking the streets of Santiago.

Sunset in the Barrio Brasil.