A very inauspicious start to the Argentinean part of the trip. Having reviewed my travel plans in detail I requested the exit row so as to get the maximum legroom. No soon do I get on the plane then I find that the expected legroom not only had not materialized, but that I actually had less legroom than normal seats because they had put an extra panel in to increase the number of Business Class seats. With a 9+ hour plane ride from Miami to Buenos Aires to look forward to, I was fuming. The full plane ride didn't help, so just 10 minutes before take off I relocated myself to an aisle seat across which still had minimal legroom. The stewardess informed me that the reason for the lack of legroom was that they were now flying 767's instead of 777's, so there was vastly fewer seats because of the economic situation. Regardless, I was in a bad mood and was unable to get any sleep at all on the plane. The pitiful tiny screen two rows ahead prevented me from watching the movie to pass the time, and the fact that the door to Business Class was blocked with a drinks tray and sign reinforced the peon status of Cattle class. I immediately resolved to upgrade to Business Class on the way back if at all possible.

Thank god for Vlad. When I arrived exhausted at the terminal there was a car waiting for me which made things drastically easier. The ride to the hotel was interesting, and the view from the suburbs to the city gave me an impression of a surprising amount of greenery. It was almost reminiscent of England in a way, although naturally there were touches of Mexico City in the traffic and Latin feel. Arriving at the hotel I ran into Jay almost immediately. He was running out to the Japanese gardens with Lynne, but we agreed to meet up later in the afternoon to do stuff. Vlad wasn't around, so I went up to the Diplomatic suite by myself. Unfortunately, their definition of a Diplomatic Suite wasn't mine, especially after having seen Malone's palatial abode at the Palms just 2 days before. There wasn't much point having 2 bedrooms if one of them had a twin in it. After running into Alon, Vlad's cousin, he gave me a couple of notes including one from Allan telling me that he had decided we should get 2 standard rooms instead of the diplomatic suite for this reason and that the hotel staff had been alerted to this. This was the first of many instances of incompetent boobery by the Hotel Staff, reinforcing the many differences between customer service in the United States and outside the US. I couldn't really fault the hotel staff at the Christopher Columbus, because I'm sure any equivalent hotel would have been just as bad. It's a case of being spoiled by what we have in the US, and especially New York.

Three hours of semi-dozing later I felt a little bit more human. I attacked the list of stuff I had, starting with taking out money and getting a haircut. This was the beginning of the revelation as to just how the Peso devaluation was going to prove to be a beautiful thing for us. Getting my laundry done was 10 pesos (at 3.6 to 1, that meant about $3). The haircut was from a decent chain (Pino's), and after paying a lot of attention to my hair and giving me a good look, the final bill was 20 pesos including tip. A long run around the park in Palermo gave me an idea of our surroundings. The lake was nice and there was very much a feel of Central Park around, with people sitting around it, sleeping, reading and jogging or blading. After a shower, it was time for the long hour+ massage from the infamous Anibal. Having been warned by Vlad and never having had a professional massage from a guy before I approached it with trepidation, but he did an excellent job, all for the princely sum of 20 pesos.

For dinner Jay, Lynne and I agreed that Argentinean beef was the way to go. Barely a block away from our hotel was a well recommended Steak place, so in we walked. Although I'd been warned about the Argentinean background (all European, blatantly racist, hated by all other Latin countries) it still took some getting used to open stares in our (my) direction as we waited for a table and walked in. As long as we were going to get served in an appropriate fashion I didn't really care and put it down to another sample of the whole experience. We were able to order somewhat competently, and started our love affair with Argentinean wines with a good Malbec. The meat itself was a little too exotic for my taste. Kidneys and blood sausage didn't really hit the spot, and not knowing the contents of the mystery meat made me glad we had enough sides of fries and creamed spinach. Not that the meat was bad, but we fortunately learned on our first day itself that we would be better off ordering complete steaks as opposed to going for the Pot Pourri. We decided to call it an early night as we were going to be heading out to Colonia in Uruguay the next day.

Colonia turned out to be a small quiet town, but most of our desire to go there revolved around adding another stamp to our passport, since it was in Uruguay. The ferry ride across was just under an hour, although made more unpleasant by screaming kids. Apparently in Argentina parental supervision over misbehaving kids is minimal, an unpleasant discovery that reared its ugly head time and again. Mercifully landing at the port, we eschewed renting scooters (much to Jay's disgust) and decided on a more leisurely jaunt along the riverside. I hadn't actually realized it was the river as everything indicated the body of water being the sea, which led to the unusual view of grass going all the way out to the rocks. We were also able to romp up and down the wall of a Portuguese fort, which was particularly interesting for me as I'd done exactly the same thing on the walls of a Portuguese fort in Goa, India, almost exactly across the globe from where I was. Unfortunately because of the grass and the fact that it was spring here, my hay fever unexpectedly sprung up with a vengeance. Having taken it for granted in the US thanks to no recent attacks along with the use of Claritin and Nasonex, I was all of a sudden reminded of just what a nightmare it was. The sedate style of life, nice views of a quiet port and pleasant lunch were submerged under a miserable blizzard of sneezes, watering eyes and runny nose. Fortunately Lynne and Jay put up with it without too much complaining and we were also able to find a pharmacy with some anti-histamines which provided some mediocre relief. We spent just enough time in Colonia not to get bored, but after browsing some knick-knack stores and looking at our watches it was time to get back to the high speed ferry again. The kids weren't as annoying on the way back and we made it back to the hotel by 7pm, alas too late for my $6 hour massage.

We'd been invited to have dinner with the families, so off we went to an Armenian place for some appetizers and more excellent red wine (or 'Vino Tinto', as I was fast learning to ask for). I also happened to like the aerated water they provided, tap water not being an option. 'Agua sin gas' (Non-aerated water) and 'Agua con gas' (aerated water) soon became standards at the lunch and dinner table. As a group we all then went out for ice cream, before Lynne, Jay, myself and our ever gracious host Juan split away to go for a couple of drinks. He took us to a place in Palermo Viejo (Old Palermo) that was walking distance from the restaurant as well as our hotel. It had a very Parisian feel to it, with a large center circle surrounded by open cafes, restaurants and bars. We settled on an Irish bar (what else?) and ordered a couple of Quilmes (when in Rome, or Buenos Aires as the case may be). Unfortunately one of the results of the devaluation is less freebees, so I got virtually no matchboxes, because this place would have been a perfect candidate for one. A few beers, watching some NBA basketball on the telly, a little chat about life in BA and before you knew it it was 1am. We tried to wait through the thunderous tropical storm that had suddenly appeared, but our patience grew as thin as the hour grew long, so we chanced it and jumped into a cab. Another great thing about the devaluation - cabs were all less than 10 pesos and frequently only 5, so we never did get to see the subway.

Thursday saw the arrival of most of the rest of the crew. I ran into Glen Roter and his girlfriend Stacy at the reception desk and almost didn't recognize the older, mature, married Mark Leach. Fortunately Vlad's cousin Alon was playing the part of Camp Director, so he set us up in vans going to Natalia's house where the post civil wedding luncheon was being held. It was a good half hour ride out of the city, but provided another view of the suburbs. Again I was struck by how first world the city and suburbs look, which reinforce just how disappointing and backwards India appears to be in comparison to some of these so called 'developing' countries. Naturally we were running a little late, which was nothing compared to the van behind us holding the rest of the group. Eventually everybody arrived and we got to see a lovely open spacious suburban Argentinean home. The reception was out in the garden which happened to be monstrously hot in the baking sunshine, but at least unlike Vlad I didn't have a suit on.

A couple of glasses of wine and some food sorted things out, but after the speeches and cake people were jetlagged and had to make it back to the hotel. As a bit of a welcome, we decided to have an impromptu happy hour on the top floor of the hotel, where there was a small bar and pool table which was apparently at our disposal. Having sent out for some empanadas and run out for some beers, we had a little gathering at which we covered what the general plans were for the next few days. Unfortunately I wasn't feeling at my best, so I had to call it an early night, which inevitably led the rest of the crew to call it early without my impetus leading them on.

Friday. Nothing scheduled except for shopping. All we did in the morning was visit our tourist agency to give them the money for our Bariloche trip. This was an odyssey in itself as apparently finding ATM's in Buenos Aires isn't a problem, finding one that works with a US card is. Thousands of locations around the world my ass! Finally it was up to good old Bank of Boston (which I'd never heard of) to provide me with the necessary Pesos, naturally it was located a block away from all our mad scrambling. Trip paid for, it was time to scout out the leather district, which apparently consisted of one block of leather stores. Finding something suitable was easier said than done, because it had to have the combination of price and look to make it appealing. Based on last year's fiasco of the $200+ jacket ripping all the way along the buttons I knew that my next jacket had to have a zip, but after that I was open. Up and down we went through every store, running the gamut of disinterested sales people to pathetically eager to help. Finally the jackets that we saw earlier on fit the bill, whereupon we had to go through a ridiculous combination of pantomiming what we wanted as well as collecting enough cash from the group to pay for the jackets (Credit Card payments added 20% to the total, which was 20% we'd rather avoid). Finally, Corey, myself and Alan had the same jackets in different sizes (with Corey's in brown). The sales people were happy and so were we with our $120 leather jackets. Thank god, if we didn’t achieve any more shopping this trip at least we'd completed one major purchase!

Back to the hotel, but once again too late for a massage. Tonight's main event would be a religious service at temple where Vlad and Natalia were to be honoured followed by an optional dinner at the Chabat house followed by a night at Senor Tango's, the preeminent Tango show in Buenos Aire. After the usual lobby confusion the bus arrived to transport us to the temple. Unfortunately security at Synagogue's is a big thing and it took a little convincing for the guards to let 30 of us dressed in suits in for the service. What was to be a one hour service turned into an interminable 2+ hour service. Probably about 2 1/2 minutes were in English, the rest being Hebrew or Spanish. To Vlad's surprise I politely declined the chance to hear more Hebrew and Spanish at the Chabat house, as I needed a little more sustenance than Gefilte fish. A splinter faction of myself & Juan, Mark & Heather, Glen & Stacy, Joe and Sarah made a quick getaway, followed by the longing eyes of Corey, Jay et al. Because of the overly long ceremony we had a time crunch as Senor Tango was set to start at 11:30pm and it was already almost 10pm. Juan took us to one of his favourite places in Palermo Viejo, 'En Portuguese'. In double quick time, we had a table for 8 outside on the opposite side of the street. Thus began one of the finest meals I had in Argentina, and that's saying a lot. Juan ordered for all of us, now going for the familiar Malbec from Mendoza as well as a Syrah for contrast. The three steaks were baked with chips made from fresh potatoes, and constituted two made with onions and tomatoes as well as one with mushrooms, all medium rare. I can't even remember if we ordered more steaks, and about a third of the way through the meal I had stopped focussing on the clock and allowed the meal to just whisk me away. Oh my goodness, did I forget about the glorious heartattack of an appetizer? I don't remember the name of it, but it essentially constituted a large slab of deliciously fried cheese with spices topped by a fried egg. My cholesterol did a dizzying climb just looking at it.

As all good things come to an end, so did this. I did notice that we wouldn't have much of a chance to get to Senor Tango's on time, but the meal was worth that. Jumping into a cab with Mark & Heather, we were soon treated to an impromptu tour of Buenos Aires by our loquacious cab driver, despite the fact that we spoke minimal Spanish. It was the first time I remember travelling along the Nueve de Julio, which is the world's widest avenue featuring the Obelisk Monument as well as the Teatro Colon on one side. The journey seemed interminable but eventually we took a right into a seemingly deserted isolated neighbourhood. With visions of my kidneys being harvested for Pesos it was with much relief that we took a quick left and saw the huge sign of 'Senor Tango'.

Horses and riders up on stage indicated that the show was indeed on, not surprising given the fact that it was almost midnight. Rather than stumble around in the dark we grabbed a table a little above the main floor and had a glass of wine. The moment the riders finished I was able to spot the rest of the group way to our left, so we were able to go over and scare up a couple of seats. I didn't have a chance to ask how the Chabat house meal was before seeing everyone hungrily wolfing down pieces of cheese and sandwich meats, which apparently was all they could get to eat at that time of night. Jay gave me a look which said don't even dare talk about your meal, so I didn't. The tango show turned out to be pretty interesting, but I'm not that big of a show guy. After the first several dances they turned out to be all the same to me, even the solos on the accordion by the venerable old people who were supposed to be famous experts.

As I'd had time to digest my meal and energized by the show I was all ready to go out, but everyone was too surly and wanted to go to bed. I guess the fact that it was about 2:30am was a reasonable excuse. Out of the blue, Sarah and Joe appeared very enthusiastic to go out. I waited in the lobby but only Joe showed up, Sarah having let the burns from the summer sun get the better of her. Having no Juan to lead me to the burning night spots I had to make a decision, and was glad I had asked Juan the name of the place we were at with Jay and Lynne. 'La Place de Serrano' I commanded the cab driver, and we were off. It looked nothing like the other night, with an abundance of people at the Parisian circle, with many people in the cafes opposite. We grabbed a Mojito quickly and stood on the pavement, soaking up the scene. This was nightlife in Buenos Aires! Ten minutes of this and we were on to bigger and better things. Spying two women just sitting in front of us I coerced Joe into telling me some rudimentary Spanish, and armed with that I attempted to make some basic contact. Initial signs were unpromising, but within about 5 minutes an unexpected conversation appeared, with the girls mastery of English far superior to my non existent Spanish. Apparently 'La Placita' was a notable gathering place for University Students. Although they had been hit hard by the devaluation, young people still needed a place to go. Most of them were in the center circle, where they could buy cheap 40's of Quilmes and relax, listening to music and generally passing the time.

Because there's so much to add and I've procrastinated too long, I'm going to add short snippets of what we did each day that I remember and then fill them in later (maybe):

Saturday Nov 23^rd: Got up, went on the bus tour with Corey and Suzanne that started at the Alvear Palace hotel and went all the way around Buenos Aires. I got to see the outside of the Bombanera at La Boca as well as check out several other areas of interest including the Pink House. After the tour ended we were able to go to the market before heading back to the hotel to prepare for the wedding. The Ceremony was blessedly short and sweet, with Vlad practically beaming from ear to ear. After being pronounced Man & Wife he practically mauled poor Natalia in front of the whole congregation, to the amusement of us all. We took a bus over to the hotel which was as opulent as you could ever wish for. Wine and appetizers were followed by an enormous seven course meal which went through the entire night. Seeing an Argentinian/jewish/Russian/Israeli wedding was definitely an experience, and to our surprised it turned out just Jay and I were drinking. We took a cab back at 6am the next morning because I had the 9:30am start for the River Plate game the next day.

Sunday Nov 24^th. I had to wake up after only a couple of hours sleep since somehow I ended up being the ringleader to go to the River Plate Game. On reaching the lobby I saw Vlad's uncle, little cousin and other uncle ready to go. At this point I threw in the towel, since the River Plate game was not going to be a major game, and I was unwilling to travel there without a guide. With my nonexistent spanish and the minimal english of the other 3 it was just too much aggravation. I went back and crashed out before getting up when everyone else did. We decided that hitting the Sunday market was the best thing to do, so that's where we went off to. We took the scenic route and split up via cab, but managed to find the rest of the group okay. Lunch was excellent on a roof overlooking the shenanigans in the market place, and we then wandered all over the market looking at interesting knickknacks. Barely 90 seconds after splitting up from the group I was harassed by a cop for possession of brown skin, which once again reaffirmed that we weren't in Kansas any more (maybe Mississippi). For dinner we went back to En Portuguese with the whole group this time, so the Chabat Crew could finally sample the delights of the meat that we talked about earlier.

Monday Nov. 25^th. It was an early flight out to Bariloche. We did have an amusing time at the airport though as we saw that Glen and Stacy had inexplicably decided to bring their entire luggage with them for the 5 day stay. The 4 suitcases were extravagant enough just for two weeks in Buenos Aires, but the reasoning behind lugging these enormous suitcases for 5 days as opposed to leaving them at the hotel like everyone else was never made clear. The bemused airport staff pulled them aside and informed them of the extra luggage tax, and more hilarity ensued when Glen was unable to understand the reason for the tax. Finally, we made it on the plane. Unfortunately we were unable to nap on the plane because of the obligatory screaming baby and unsupervised toddlers. Upon arrival there was another example of common sense gone mad as the luggage was run through metal detectors AFTER having arrived in the airport. After having an amusing time at everyone's expense the joke was on me as I had failed to process that even though it was summer we were in the Andes, so shorts and t-shirts weren't going to cut it. Fortunately the woeful Argentinean economy once again came to the rescue as I was able to rent a hefty ski jacket for a mere 20 pesos ($6) for the week.

Tuesday Nov. 26^th: Snowfights in the mountains, viewing Hotel Lhao Lhao, driving around the lakes

Wednesday Nov. 27^th: Bus ride to boat for wonderful scenic ride across lakes, coming up almost to the border with Chile. Also viewed waterfalls.

Thursday Nov. 28^th: Great van ride out by the gorgeous lakes. Lunch at small café with several St. Bernard's in the yard. Renting bikes in order to come back through the Arrayanes forest. Glorious boat ride out, lying on top of the boat and loving life. Brutal 12 Km bike ride back, but exhilarating at the same time. Fun van ride back listening to 80's music and baiting Glen.

Friday Nov. 29^th: Taking it easy, just shopping for people back home. Great meal when we got back.

To be continued…(March 27th, 2003)