Entering Argentina

First, an apology for the lack of new material. I am writing this from an internet cafe in Aguas Calientes in Peru. When the Incas built Machu Picchu a mere 500 years ago they were still in the Bronze age, and things haven´t come along much since then in Aguas Calientes. Despite the name of the town meaning "hot water", our US$80 hotel´s bronze-age plumbing was unable to deliver any. The computers are still in the electronic equivalent of the bronze-age too; the Windows 95 age. Interfacing a 2005 high resolution digital camera with faded beige computers ten years older is a recipe for frustration, and I´ve had plenty of that in internet cafes throughout South America. For anybody reading this and contemplating extended travel with a big digital camera in South America, my advice would be to bring a laptop!

Backtracking a bit from Puerto Natales, my narrative left us in beautiful Iguassu. We only really dipped into Argentina a few times, spending more time in Brazil and Chile, but we were glad each time we did. Crossing from the Brazilian side of the Iguassu falls at Foz do Iguacu to the Argentinian side (Puerto Iguazu) was like Dorothy´s journey from black-and-white Kansas to technicolour Oz. Miserable grey grids of streets gave way to rustic cobbled roads lined with trees which seemed luminous green growing from Australia-red earth. Suddenly, as if by magic, the air was clearer, the women more beautiful, the food and wine delicious and credit cards started working again. Even the cars, which are the most boring in the world in Brazil, became interesting in the "shabby chique" style of rural France and Italy. What was surprising was how instantly this happened on crossing the border. Surely it´s the same road, so some of these cars should have made it to the "dark" side in Brazil? I can only assume it is illegal to cross into Brazil in an Alfa Romeo, classic American or 40 year old Peugeot 504, or in fact anything which isn´t a nondescript two-year-old Fiat or VW saloon.



From Puerto Iguazu we flew to Buenos Aires, where the technicolour continued. The deep primary colours of El Caminito de la Boca glowed under a clear blue sky. The beers were cold and cheap, the steaks were succulent and lots of dark latin beauties were dressed as prostitutes, pretending they could dance Tango in front of tourists who definitely couldn´t. Faded colonial elegance mixed it with glitzy modern shopping malls. I got the impression of a city with much beauty and history, but at the same time thriving and modern.



We flew from Buenos Aires to El Califate, a tourist town for visits to the nearby Moreno Glacier. As was normal for Argentina, the food and wine was wonderful, plentiful and cheap and the people were friendly. Unusually for our Argentina experience, the weather was rubbish and the Moreno Glacier was less impressive in the drizzle than it would otherwise have been. From El Califate we took a bus to Puerto Natales. On crossing the border, Argentina´s magical colours of Oz quickly faded to the near-monochrome Kansas of Puerto Natales.