Are we there yet? Wait, where is "there"?: Mendoza

Erik´s entry: The overnight bus from Rosario to Mendoza was painless, once we finally succeeded in actually getting on the bus. (See Rosario entry for more about that.) All the long-haul buses are equiped with "cama" (bed) or "semi-cama" (almost a bed) seats. We had the cheaper - but still pricey - semi-cama seats and we both were able to sleep a decent amount during the 12 hour ride. Pulling into the Mendoza terminal, we could see the surrounding desert framed by the snowy Andes mountains, which made for quite a dramatic arrival.

We were able to check our packs at the station, and so could relax and take our time as we sought out our lodgings. Good thing, too, as Mendoza is pricey, and we'd timed our arrival perfectly to coincide with a major school holiday. Cheap hotels were full, and prices were all high-s

eason rates. We spent the better part of the entire day going from hostel, to hotel, to hospedaje. Everything was either full or too expensive. Mid-afternoon we decided to take a break and get something to eat. We found a tiny, divey cafe called "Flako's" ("Slim's"), with a cheap Menu del Dia, and sat down to a great, simple meal of Argentine pot roast. Delicious, filling, and affordable - what a combo. While we were eating, a man sitting near us asked us where we were from. His name was Jorge, and it turns out he'd spent several years working in New Jersey, so we chatted for a while. As he paid his check, he gave us his phone number in case we'd like to meet up another time. He also gave us a tip on a hostel near the bus station, where we ended up staying for the first night. It was absolutely tiny, with bunk beds and pretty much nothing else (including floor space), but it was affordable, so we took it for one night. It actually reminded me a little of the sleeper cars on the trains in Vietnam. (Photo makes it look more spacious than it was.)

The next morning we moved to another hostel, and that was to set a trend. In five days, we slept in 5 different rooms in 3 different hostels. It's not that we're so insanely picky, but the places were busy, and we'd always get the crappy room to start, either with a broken bed, or that adjoined the common room where people were partying and playing music until 4am.

We finally settled into a room in Hostal Central Parque, which seemed a nice, small, quiet hostel. That was on our 4th day, a Thursday. We woke up the next morning, and the breakfast table was jammed full of people. Where had they all come from? Where were they all staying? Turns out the place was bigger than it seemed, with secret little dorm rooms everywhere, and the place had filled up for the holiday weekend. We even had a famous alternative rock band staying in one of the rooms. Everyone pointed out how lucky we all were because they played free concerts for us in the evening, which was nice, but the entire weekend was very crowded and very noisy.

Luckily, Mendoza is the epicenter of Argentine wine, which helped take th

e edge off the noise and crowding. 70% of Argentina's wine is made in Mendoza county. We went out one chilly, sunny day to a central spot in vineyard country and did a little tasting tour. It´s a little too far to walk to these places, but not worth it to rent a car, so most people rent bikes. We'd been meaning to work on Talor's pedaling skills - she's not biked since childhood, and despite the generally-held wisdom, it's not just like riding a bike - so we rented a bicycle built for two and hit the road. Or the road hit us, is a better way of putting it. Riding a two person bike is difficult, and you can't simply stop pedaling to c

ushion yourself agains bumps/dips in the road, both of which there were in abundance. So with aching legs and bruised butts, we made our way to a few wineries. We took at tour at one of the oldest wineries in Mendoza, San Felipe, which also has a museum attached with loads and loads of centuries-old equipment, which was interesting. The free wine wasn't bad, either. The high points of the day, though, were the delicious, and deliciously cheap, empanadas we found at a tiny bodega along the way, as well as Mr. Hugo, the lovely man who rented us our bike and made us sit down and drink more wine with him and his dog once we 'd finished our tour. He reminded us both of our friend Gerry, and we kicked ourselves for not getting a photo of him.

Just a quick side note on my use of the term "bodega" here, which in New Yorker parlance, is a corner store. In Argentina, a bodega is a winery. In this case I was referring to the corner store, not the winery, despite our being in wine country. (Confused yet?) All throughout Central and South America, we've found different terms in each country for a convenience store, none of which is "bodega", which literally means "store room." In Mexico, they were "tiendas", but tiendas are clothing shops in most other countries. In Honduras and Nicaragua, they are referred to as "pulperias." In Argentina, they are called "almacens", though also referred to as anything from "kiosko" to "mercado", "mini-mercado", "super-mercado", "super-mini-mercado" (no kidding). Anything except "bodega." Oh, and don´t try asking for drugs at the "drugstores" either because all you´ll find is snacks and groceries.

We'd had such a nice meal at Flako´s the first day, that we continued to go back and lunch there nearly every day, often twice a day. Everything else we found in Mendoza was fairly pricey, fancy and touristy. Flako´s never disappointed, and helped us to stay in budget as well. We'd hoped to run into Jorge again there, but finally decided to call him. He agreed to meet us for a drink and drove us around the city, giving us a quick tour, before taking us to his sports club for a nice bottle of wine and picada (meat, cheese and olive snack tray.) He had little time, as he was very busy at work, but he drove us back home, and we made him promise to let us take him out next time. What a nice man! Everyone we'd met in Argentina had been friendly, but Jorge's hospitality was almost overwhelming.

We managed to return the favor a few nights later. Jorge again picked us up in his car, accompanied by his wife, Susana. We'd insisted on picking up the bill this time, and so Jorge was sly and took us to the fancy Mendoza mall, where there was a cheap but cheerful italian restaurant - he was gracious enough to have chosen a spot where we could treat them, but which wouldn't put too much of a dent in our budget as well. They are a wonderful couple, and we hope to meet them again sometime, perhaps in New York. Thank you, Jorge!

One nice th

ing about the cramped quarters at the hostel, was that we were forced to meet people. One morning we commented on a young boy's new bright-0range nike soccer shoes, which he kept shining throughout breakfast. His name was Martin, and he was very, very proud of his new shoes. We ended up spending a good deal of time with Martin, his sister Belen, and his parents, Patty and Marco. They were from Chile and vacationing in Mendoza. From what I could understand in my bad Spanish (I'm truly embarrassed that I still struggle to understand after 6 months in S

panish-speaking countries), they'd decided to vacation in Mendoza because that was the nearest place that Martin could buy his fancy footwear! It's always interesting to hear how people choose to travel where they do. We spent one very fun night drinking wine with Patty and Marco while being entertained by Martin and Bele

n. It was a very fun evening, and Patti and Marco were SO patient with our poor Spanish skills. Evenings such as that that are exactly how we'll learn to speak better. We were leaving Mendoza the next day, but we exchanged emails, and hope to meet up in Santiago, Chile. As has nearly always been the case in our travels, it's the people we remember, not the sites. Thus we tend to avoid the speedy sight-seeing type of travel experience.

Talor: Highlights for me included a small aquarium, where we sa

w a kooky collection of exotic fish, including this crazy looking albino with no eyes. Pushed and shoved the annoying kids out of the way so I can have a closer look, and when I did, it gave me the creeps, but I couldn´t stop staring! Then great sadness came when we went into another room and found a giant sea turtle swimming in a not too giant fish bowl. After that we decided to forgo checking out the snake museum across the street, where we heard they house the snakes in equally tight quarters.

Aft

er eating in the same cafe every single day for lunch, we were at a loss on Sunday because... (gulp!) Flako´s was closed! In fact lots of places were closed, except for the touristy strips, which we swore we wouldn´t go to. We wandered around aimlessly searching for food, and a couple of hours later, we were almost at that desperate point, when things could have come to blows (weak blows since we had no food in us...) when we spotted a very cute, very tiny Middle Eastern restaurant that was (could it be?) very o

pen. Ordered a tapas-type tasting platter, and dove in. Although it all looked like the Middle Eastern food we know and love, somehow the flavors were a bit different. In the end, we agreed it wasn´t the best we´d ever had, but put together a nice, relaxing, homey ambience with a very warm and patient waiter, the fact that we were starving, and we were eating non-Argentinian food for a change, added up to all smiles in the end.