From Bmore to BA

Yes, this could be start of a really great joke. But, my dear friends - this wasnt a joke, but was reality two nights ago after the Wailers concert in Cordoba. Actually, the concert wasnt really in Cordoba; more like 10 kilometers away, next to the airport. Getting there was a cinch - two guys from the hostel and I just took a cab right out to it. Getting home didnt turn out to be so easy. Maybe its because the average age of everyone at the concert appeared to be about 15 (yehhhhhh Wass) - so the organizers just assumed everyone would be picked up by their parents - but their was absolutely no transportation to be found once we got out of the concert. No buses…nada. Yeh, there was the occasional taxi, but a few thousand people or so went to the show, so a handful of taxis isnt making too much of an impact. So after the show, Im walking outside, and by chance I run into one of my other friends from the hostel, who is with his girlfriend and two Irish guys from his new hostel. We all split up to look for cabs, so Im with the two Irish guys (ones name was Mick, BTW - adding even more to the fun of this story). Anyway, to make a long story short, it takes us about 2 hours of walking back towards town - I think we walked around 4 kilometers give or take, but damn the metric system Im just not sure. Finally…about halfway back, we see a cab across the street, and proceed to all but carjack this poor guy. He gives us a lift the rest of the way, so I made it home at about 5:30, after leaving for the concert at 8. The best part of this whole thing: now one day I when Im old and cranky I can yell at my grandkids and actually mean it: boy, when I was your age I used to walk __ miles just to have a good time on a saturday night…

Anyway, the concert was a blast. I think they may have played maybe one original song, but more importantly they covered all of the hits - you know, the songs they wrote when they had that old singer named Robert something - perfectly. The fact that this historical, completely chill group actually played at ATO in Michigan gets me all riled up…but I digress.

I made it to Mendoza about an hour ago, after another lovely 10 hour bus ride, complete with bus attendant and all. Mendoza is one of Argentinas western provinces, so on the ride into town you can really see the snow covered Andes straddling Argentina and Chile. Aside from all of the adventure sports you can do (although I missed the end of the ski season by a week or two, joder!), Mendoza is also Argentinas Napa Valley, so almost all of the wine producers in the country are located around here. Apparently a big attraction is going on a bodega tour (say it with me now - booooodeeeeega) to all of the wineries. I take it to be a glorified bar crawl…wine snobs need to get down too! Anyway, after some serious deliberation Ive come to the conclusion that I just may be able to sacrifice my precious time and spend a day sampling many different varieties of wine. As I mentioned to Scott, I feel quite confident that all of the information I take in on these winery tours will well prepare me to condescendingly send back bottles at nice restaurants (¨this is too dry..¨ ¨No, 1999 NOT ´98 was a good year for Cabernet, you IDIOT¨) - all in a vain attempt to impress women.

This hostel Im staying in now is really, really nice…worlds apart from the place I just came from. Perhaps its because I was raised in Baltimore but I really liked that place, which was a total dive: faucets that dont turn off, lightbulbs pulled out of the socket, having to throw the toilet paper in a wastebasket next to the toilet…I dont know, maybe because Argentinas so damn developed and Westernized I finally got the living-in-squalor experience that I craved, but after the first day, none of that stuff really bothered me at all. Like the owners dog, Sofia, this place was mangy and in your face, but damnit, it had personality. The owner of the hostel, while a tad bit shady, turned out to be a really great guy and so were the people who were staying there. I think he just really didnt have alot of money and was trying the best he could…or maybe he was just shamelessly exploiting foreigners and spending the money on booze, cheap women and drugs - I just dont know. There was just something homely about it that made me all sentimental when I had to leave after a week. (note: I cant think of any witty analogy to insert here, so please accept my sincerest apologies)

A couple more things:
- If I hear Phunk with my Heart one more time or that Green Day song Gone till September, I probably wont do much of anything, but I will shake my head in disgust. As I write this the guy at the front desk is nodding his head and mumbling to a blasting rendition of Lets Get it Started. Green Day - way to evolve, or at least change your style one IOTA, even though youve been on break for 10 years (I dont have quotes on this keyboard but I mean to emphasize my sarcasm with the word Break). Heres hoping for another 10 more….
- Good wins for Mich and the Ravens. I just discovered they have sportscenter here (in Spanish), but theres no PTI
- Ive heard that there is, however, an abundance of shameless knockoffs of American sitcoms. Examples include: Quien es el Jefe - Whos the Boss. Yes, that Tony Danza really is something special. Also: Casado con Niños - Married with Chidren, and Contra entre La Familia - Family Feud.
-Ive been taking alot of good pics but I dont have the connection cable to upload them, so unfortunately pictures will have to wait for a little while…my bad

I still dont know what my plans are. All I know is I need to make it back to Buenos Aires eventually in a week or two so I can turn in the keys to my old apartment and get my security deposit back. Everything else is TBD…

Itd probably be in my best interest to take a shower now, so I think Ill go wash off the remnants of the hostel in Cordoba off.

Take care guys,

Me

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