Thursday, December 10, 2009
Cars of Argentina III
I didn't say they were all beaters, but I'm not ready to start buying any of them soon.
It makes you wonder if they have paint at the body shops.
It makes you wonder if they have paint at the body shops.
Cars of Argentina I
Marianne has been inspired by 
the fabulous vehicles we see on the road. So now we carry a camera wherever we go to capture some of the true gems. We plan to keep adding to our collection and all the pictures we post will be of fully functional cars, although many won't look it. About half the cars here have been converted to compressed natural gas so the exhaust is not nearly as bad as you would imagine with these clunkers hitting the streets. Our understanding is the government puts such a heavy duty on imported vehicles that most owners make their cars last a long time. Most of these beauties have been seen in the US for over forty years.
the fabulous vehicles we see on the road. So now we carry a camera wherever we go to capture some of the true gems. We plan to keep adding to our collection and all the pictures we post will be of fully functional cars, although many won't look it. About half the cars here have been converted to compressed natural gas so the exhaust is not nearly as bad as you would imagine with these clunkers hitting the streets. Our understanding is the government puts such a heavy duty on imported vehicles that most owners make their cars last a long time. Most of these beauties have been seen in the US for over forty years.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Yippee Yie Kaiyay (sic)
Ride em cowboy, uh, I mean gaucho!
It was dad and crew off to the horseback ride in the mountains. Marianne stayed behind as she didn’t think her back would have handled the bouncing. She chose wisely as the bus ride to the ranch was bone jarring. The ranch is about twenty minutes from our house in Chacras, most of it on a dusty gravel switch back. It wasn’t New Zealand scary but it added to the experience.
When we arrived at the ranch, and I don’t mean like a ranch you’d see in the movies but more like a ranch you‘d see in central Mississippi, we were met by about ten wild dogs. I thought this should be interesting fighting off the dogs to get to the terrified horses. Turns out the dogs are part of the ranch (there goes that word again) and they are buds with the caballeos. Our guide introduced us to Orlando, an original Argentine gaucho in full regalia. I couldn’t figure out which was more interesting, the flat gaucho hat or the black slippers. They don’t wear boots in Argentina, apparently they’re too hot.
Everyone was assigned horses and shown how to saddle up. AnnMarie has done this numerous times but this was Brian’s first time ever in the saddle. No problem, except Brian didn’t have spurs. He spent a lot of time digging his heels into his horse’s side with little effect. I should have told him most tour horses are a bit on the slow side. At least mine didn’t try to throw me in the cactus, which is usually what happens.
The ride took us through the foothills of the Andes. We were in the shadow of Sierra Plata, a 6100 meter peak covered in snow. The big mountain, Aconcagua, at 6900 meters is about fifty km away. We rode mostly on sanderros, small twisty sand paths through the desert. I didn’t ask about rattle snakes. What I don’t know can’t hurt me.
We rode for an hour and then broke for tortitas and matte. Matte¢ is a strong tea that is sipped through a silver straw and shared by everyone. As our guide explained, it’s not so much a drink as an experience. The kids would have much prefered the experience of Sprite, based on the look on their faces as they sipped. The tortitas are soft biscuits filled with bacon. The bacon is really cow fat but who am I to complain when I’m miles out in the desert and the only guy with a knife is wearing stunning black slippers. Pass the matte¢ mate, por favor. Muy bueno!
We got back on the horses and headed for the barn. The dog pack was with us the whole time running in between the horses legs. I thought this was particularly funny when we were on the very narrow ledges winding our way through the hills. I was just waiting for one of the horses to stumble on the dogs. And I knew it wasn’t going to be Orlando’s horse. We made it back just as my ass went completely numb.
Back at the “ranch” (should I say it reminded me of Grenada after hurricane Ivan went over?) the kids got to play with kids. There was a coral of thirty of so baby goats. I think that may have been the highlight of the trip for Brian. We were going to have a goat roundup but it was time to get on the bus. Needless to say a good time was had by all, but I seem to be walking funny. I wish I had those slippers.
It was dad and crew off to the horseback ride in the mountains. Marianne stayed behind as she didn’t think her back would have handled the bouncing. She chose wisely as the bus ride to the ranch was bone jarring. The ranch is about twenty minutes from our house in Chacras, most of it on a dusty gravel switch back. It wasn’t New Zealand scary but it added to the experience.
When we arrived at the ranch, and I don’t mean like a ranch you’d see in the movies but more like a ranch you‘d see in central Mississippi, we were met by about ten wild dogs. I thought this should be interesting fighting off the dogs to get to the terrified horses. Turns out the dogs are part of the ranch (there goes that word again) and they are buds with the caballeos. Our guide introduced us to Orlando, an original Argentine gaucho in full regalia. I couldn’t figure out which was more interesting, the flat gaucho hat or the black slippers. They don’t wear boots in Argentina, apparently they’re too hot.
Everyone was assigned horses and shown how to saddle up. AnnMarie has done this numerous times but this was Brian’s first time ever in the saddle. No problem, except Brian didn’t have spurs. He spent a lot of time digging his heels into his horse’s side with little effect. I should have told him most tour horses are a bit on the slow side. At least mine didn’t try to throw me in the cactus, which is usually what happens.
The ride took us through the foothills of the Andes. We were in the shadow of Sierra Plata, a 6100 meter peak covered in snow. The big mountain, Aconcagua, at 6900 meters is about fifty km away. We rode mostly on sanderros, small twisty sand paths through the desert. I didn’t ask about rattle snakes. What I don’t know can’t hurt me.
We rode for an hour and then broke for tortitas and matte. Matte¢ is a strong tea that is sipped through a silver straw and shared by everyone. As our guide explained, it’s not so much a drink as an experience. The kids would have much prefered the experience of Sprite, based on the look on their faces as they sipped. The tortitas are soft biscuits filled with bacon. The bacon is really cow fat but who am I to complain when I’m miles out in the desert and the only guy with a knife is wearing stunning black slippers. Pass the matte¢ mate, por favor. Muy bueno!
We got back on the horses and headed for the barn. The dog pack was with us the whole time running in between the horses legs. I thought this was particularly funny when we were on the very narrow ledges winding our way through the hills. I was just waiting for one of the horses to stumble on the dogs. And I knew it wasn’t going to be Orlando’s horse. We made it back just as my ass went completely numb.
Back at the “ranch” (should I say it reminded me of Grenada after hurricane Ivan went over?) the kids got to play with kids. There was a coral of thirty of so baby goats. I think that may have been the highlight of the trip for Brian. We were going to have a goat roundup but it was time to get on the bus. Needless to say a good time was had by all, but I seem to be walking funny. I wish I had those slippers.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Marianne's second look
Hola!
O.K, O.k. I was told that my e-mail was too scary….now I will tell of the bright side….The house is beautiful…the weather is fantastic….I look out over the swimming pool to the olive orchard in the back of the property….We were treated to a traditional Argentinean (meat roast) complete with salad and tomatoes with olive oil, pork sausages and Blood sausage for appetizers ( do I need to mention that Dick asked what was in the blood sausage and everyone laughed!!). The loma or steaks were fantastic and the local beer and wine are over the top. At $3 for a bottle of wine Dick is in heaven.
We took the local bus into the big city of Mendoza…it looked and felt almost European with outdoor cafes and little kiosks selling candy and gum. We ordered lomo sandwiches…slice of meat, cheese, ham, fried egg, lettuce and tomato. We walked to one of the town squares and strolled a Sat. art/craft fair…it was good for practicing Spanish…The people were mostly young Rastafarians and Argentinean hippies. The people dress the same as anywhere else…maybe a bit more casually. We were able to locate an Argentina soccer shirt for Brian, he was in heaven.
We went to Mass on Sunday. A little church up the street. Brady, and Dick were overdressed in collared shirts…everyone was in jeans except the very old. We sat on 2x4’s and knelt on 2x4’s …wow.. does that hurt. AnnMarie thought she was going to pass out from the pain. I had to give her the old “ think how Christ and his disciples suffered” Did I mention that it really hurt! Other than that, it was the same mass only in Spanish. They had singing but no music, not a single instrument. The hand shake of peace was the traditional Argentinean greeting…a kiss on the right cheek., to everyone around you. It was strange to be kissing men and women you did not know!!
Jose gave us ride to the big grocery store yesterday (still smaller than Giant Eagle). He drove us in his car…a 1966 Ford pick- up truck. It has a 1966 radio that doesn’t work, and a huge speedometer that also doesn’t work. I had to sit close to Dick in the front seat so I wouldn’t get in the way of the 3footlong stick-shift in the center. I braced myself on the duck tape covered gear box, and Dick rolled down the window and then threw the handle up on the dashboard. The truck is a lovely white primer, and though you can not see the road through the floor…you know it is there. Driving down the dusty road I know I am in Argentina…I feel like I am in a movie…I should be doing something dangerous …or glamorous. ..Instead I have to remind myself that I am on my way to buy groceries…
It is both dangerous AND glamorous.
Adios
Marianne
O.K, O.k. I was told that my e-mail was too scary….now I will tell of the bright side….The house is beautiful…the weather is fantastic….I look out over the swimming pool to the olive orchard in the back of the property….We were treated to a traditional Argentinean (meat roast) complete with salad and tomatoes with olive oil, pork sausages and Blood sausage for appetizers ( do I need to mention that Dick asked what was in the blood sausage and everyone laughed!!). The loma or steaks were fantastic and the local beer and wine are over the top. At $3 for a bottle of wine Dick is in heaven.
We took the local bus into the big city of Mendoza…it looked and felt almost European with outdoor cafes and little kiosks selling candy and gum. We ordered lomo sandwiches…slice of meat, cheese, ham, fried egg, lettuce and tomato. We walked to one of the town squares and strolled a Sat. art/craft fair…it was good for practicing Spanish…The people were mostly young Rastafarians and Argentinean hippies. The people dress the same as anywhere else…maybe a bit more casually. We were able to locate an Argentina soccer shirt for Brian, he was in heaven.
We went to Mass on Sunday. A little church up the street. Brady, and Dick were overdressed in collared shirts…everyone was in jeans except the very old. We sat on 2x4’s and knelt on 2x4’s …wow.. does that hurt. AnnMarie thought she was going to pass out from the pain. I had to give her the old “ think how Christ and his disciples suffered” Did I mention that it really hurt! Other than that, it was the same mass only in Spanish. They had singing but no music, not a single instrument. The hand shake of peace was the traditional Argentinean greeting…a kiss on the right cheek., to everyone around you. It was strange to be kissing men and women you did not know!!
Jose gave us ride to the big grocery store yesterday (still smaller than Giant Eagle). He drove us in his car…a 1966 Ford pick- up truck. It has a 1966 radio that doesn’t work, and a huge speedometer that also doesn’t work. I had to sit close to Dick in the front seat so I wouldn’t get in the way of the 3footlong stick-shift in the center. I braced myself on the duck tape covered gear box, and Dick rolled down the window and then threw the handle up on the dashboard. The truck is a lovely white primer, and though you can not see the road through the floor…you know it is there. Driving down the dusty road I know I am in Argentina…I feel like I am in a movie…I should be doing something dangerous …or glamorous. ..Instead I have to remind myself that I am on my way to buy groceries…
It is both dangerous AND glamorous.
Adios
Marianne
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