Buenos Aires – Adventures with My Born-Again Homeless People - Guest Post by Suze Tull!!!

(Better late than never! The girls are already in Peru but it has taken me a few days since returning home from Argentina to write this post.)

Being homeless is tough – even if you are homeless because you chose to backpack around the world after college. You’re constantly mobile, sleeping someplace different (and usually in bedding of questionable quality, if bedding at all), wearing your cleanest dirty clothes, figuring out transportation – whether across town or an international border, watching every penny when it comes to food and supplies, exerting significant mental energy to speak the local language and more. I’m beat just composing this list.

So when I arrived the Friday before Thanksgiving at the very modern and hip Hotel De Diseno in Buenos Aires’ stylish Recoleta neighborhood, our little vagabonds, five weeks into their trip and having recently spent 10 days on the spartan Hare Krishna farm, were in good spirits and health but a bit worn out and needing some TLC.

I found the girls in the hotel’s lower lobby, sprawled listlessly, like wilted flowers, across a white shabby chic sofa. Katy Jane’s mascara was smudged halfway down her cheeks and all three chicas were moaning about smelling less than optimal (my paraphrasing of what they actually said). They had gone out dancing the night before and finally left the club around 6:30 a.m. in this very European city, which never sleeps (dinner at 11 p.m. is common, and clubs rarely get going before 2:00 a.m.).

Unable to check in prior to my arrival, the girls had been “napping” in the park across the street. Fortunately, Buenos Aires also is a city of beautiful, well-shaded parks every few blocks, always filled with people and their off-leash dogs.

When we finally got to our accommodations – a lofted suite with two bathrooms including a rain showerhead and Jacuzzi, the cleansing began. I got concerned when 50 minutes passed and Laura was still in the shower, but she was fine. Jess soaked in the tub for just as long. I forget what Katy Jane did but it likewise involved a communion with water and soap. Amidst it all, there was discussion about washing off layers (note the pluralization) of residual dirt from the huerta. And I was asked to take a vow of silence, promising to never disclose the color of anyone’s bath water.

Then we all passed out in big, plush beds with comforters until well after dark. Around 11 p.m., revived and right on time for BA, we went to dinner nearby. I noticed at this and every subsequent meal with our travelers that there was never a speck of food left on a single plate and that desserts vanished within a few minutes of being set down on the table. I also noticed that Jess loves gnocchi, which is widely available in Argentina due to significant Italian heritage and population.

On Saturday, we bussed across town to El Campo Argentino de Polo to watch some of the country’s best teams compete in the four-week long 115^th Argentine Polo Open Championship (“El Abierto”). This is one of the most prestigious, annual, competitive events in the world of polo, a sport at which the Argentines excel globally. I think the girls enjoyed the spectacle of the matches but it triggered some debate about animal rights.

The following day, we went to the weekly Sunday flea and crafts market in the antique district of San Telmo. As is often the case with these types of events, the street performers and people watching were superior to the merchandise being sold, with few exceptions.

Katy Jane and I ran some errands near the hotel on Monday so we got a good feel for the neighborhood in Recoleta, which she likened to NYC’s Upper East Side. It had lots of fancy shops, including more confiterias (pastry shops) and high-end children’s clothing boutiques than we could count. We stopped in at Dos Escudos to pick up a tray of treats, which we ate in about five minutes around midnight in a spur-of-the-moment, hotel room pajama party. The day also included at pit stop to see great art at the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires, one of many outstanding art museums in the city. That evening, we went to the touristy but fun tango show at the historic Café Tortoni -- amazing dancing!

Patagonia -- Heaven on Earth

After four days in BA, Katy Jane and I took a three-hour flight to El Calafate in Southern Patagonia for a few days of outdoor exploration. I have been to the Canadian Rockies and the Alps in three countries but I have never seen anything as exquisite as what I saw here, at what is almost the end of the earth in the southern hemisphere. The view from our rustic-style hotel, La Cantera, included mountain peaks and the turquoise Lago Argentino. The nearby Parque National de Los Glacieres is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and includes the Perito Moreno Glacier, where we trekked with crampons. We spent Thanksgiving day horseback riding at Estanicia Cristina. Breathtaking!

Although we’re not huge carnivores, one evening we went to Don Pichon, a parilla (these restaurants specializing in grilled meats are everywhere in Argentina) that the chef at our hotel recommended. The waiter brought a table-top grill piled about half a foot high with several types of steaks, some lamb and also sausage (but no morcilla, or blood sausage, at our request) and what we later found out were intestines, although we didn’t eat the latter because we suspected it was something like that. The lamb, very popular in Argentina and especially Patagonia, was delicious and so were some of the steaks, but some were average – an experience we had several times during my 10 days in the country. The $12 bottle of wine – a Malbec-Syrah blend from Bodega del Fin Del Mundo – was a knock out.

Mendoza – Wine Lover’s Mecca

The day after Thanksgiving, Katy Jane and I reunited with Laura and Jess in Chacras de Coria, a suburb of Mendoza -- the heart of the Argentine wine country. We stayed in a precious little hotel, Lares de Chacras, within walking distance of the town plaza and casual restaurants with good simple food like pizza and fresh salads as well as more great $10 bottles of Malbec.

And now this is where I will apologize to Bob and Linny Fox and also August and Cindy Caimi for putting the girls in the position of being over served. If they were “born again” in Buenos Aires, in the Mendoza area, they fell off the path … under my watch. Sorry. I hired a driver for a day to take us to several vineyards including Achaval Ferrer, only six or seven years old but already regarded as one of the top quality producers in the country. We also went to an older, more traditional winery, Viña el Cerno, which was where the real over-serving occurred. We all agree it was the tour guide’s fault – he was insistent that we try 11 wines and we didn’t want to hurt his feelings by declining and especially by not finishing the half glass “tastes” he poured of each. We were not very productive the rest of the day.

But it’s amazing what a long, deep sleep in real beds can do! It’s also amazing how people everywhere kept wanting to overserve us. The next day, I went to the Andean foothills to mountain bike while the girls slept late, hung out at the hotel pool and make travel plans to get to Lima. That evening, we went into the city of Mendoza to check out the Vines of Mendoza tasting room, where we hooked up with a friend of a friend of mine who is the COO there. Well, one thing led to another and I am sure that you can figure out how the rest of the night went … and Jess had gnocchi, too.

Thanks, Jess, Katy Jane and Laura for allowing me to crash your trip. I had a blast with you!