Day 40 – July 19, 1991
Our day of departure. We got up early, finished packing, then wrestled all of our stuff over to the bus station. At around 7:00 AM, we boarded our last Cataratas bus, the same company we’ve used every day, and enjoyed a foggy ride out to the airport. Once arrived, Johanna got in line to get our boarding passes while I babysat our luggage.
Something that will have been obvious to you as you’ve read the several installments of this story is the fact that I have included no photos. There’s a good reason for that. For some reason that I cannot recall, for this trip I didn’t bring a camera along – what I brought is a video camera, not a still camera. Don’t ask me why, I just did. In the decades since, all my video tapes have been lost, and since I never took any pictures, I have nothing visual to show you, only my words.
After obtaining our boarding passes, Johanna accidentally walked away from our video camera (in a nice hard case) and left it near the counter. Some honest people saw it and brought it back to us – whew! As we waited for our flight, we saw 2 more toucans outside on the lawn – what a great place was Iguazu for watching birds! Our flight to Buenos Aires went without incident, and after much delay in retrieving our luggage, we took a cab into the city.
During my many stops in the capital in the past 2 summers, I had stayed at a cheap place called the Hotel Mediterraneo. The cabbie dropped us there, and for the fair sum of $13 we moved in to a gloomy double room with our own bath. After a nap, we headed out to the busy streets of el centro and caught El Subte (we were keeping track of how many subways we’d ever used). This was her 7th (New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Moscow, Mexico City, Toronto, Buenos Aires); for me, only 5 (Toronto, Montreal, New York, San Francisco, Buenos Aires). It dropped us off at Florida, a tourist-friendly peatonal, where we walked for hours and shopped for souvenirs. Pizza and ice cream topped off our day, and we caught a micro back to the hotel.
Day 41 – July 20, 1991
This was to be an easy day. After sleeping in, we used the subte to make our way around town and run errands. Since we had the time, our plan was to travel to Uruguay for a short visit tomorrow. The tickets weren’t cheap (maybe it just felt that way because we were traveling on such a shoestring), but we paid $42 US each for the ride. The day was spent eating, walking around, exploring. In Plaza San Martín, we saw our first rufous hornero, Argentina’s national bird (it’s the one that builds a mud nest).
Using another micro, we made our way down to Lavalle and Suipacha for a nice vegetarian meal. While there, we made the acquaintance of a family who offered us a ride down to Barrio San Telmo. One of the things we wanted to do was go to a tango place – not to dance, but to watch. A club called El Viejo Almacén wanted a $30 US cover charge each – holy crap, that was too rich for our blood! In hindsight, maybe we should have paid the price anyway and had the experience of seeing real professionals perform. By the time we caught a micro back to Plaza Congreso and returned to our hotel, it was after midnight.
Day 42 – July 21, 1991
We arose early, prepared a day pack, caught a bus and walked the last 6 blocks down to the boat terminal. Their method of clearing passengers was slow and inefficient, but finally we boarded the hydrofoil. The advantage of paying more to use the aliscafo is that it is much faster than a ferry to make the crossing. It was small and rather gloomy, but if you wanted to pay 5 dollars more, you could sit in the nice upper seats (we didn’t). In a little more than an hour, we arrived at Colonia, Uruguay – it had been a rough, choppy ride, and it was cold and windy when we disembarked.
The first order of business was to clear Uruguayan customs – that done, we walked into town, the old colonial part. There were neat old walls dating back to 1680 when Portuguese settlers arrived from Brazil. It was a leisurely 2 hours spent walking the quiet streets, buying souvenirs and playing tourist – certainly a dramatic change from the hustle and bustle of Buenos Aires. Once back on the aliscafo, we even managed to doze a bit on the crossing back to Argentina.
In a city park near the harbor, some hard work yielded 4 new birds to add to our life list. A ride on the subte (which is short for subterraneo, as you’ve probably already guessed) brought us back to our hotel. After a pizza, we spent a long while over at the nearby Plaza Congreso. There sits the beautiful building which is the seat of the Argentine congress (it is modeled after the Capitol Building in Washington, DC). It is a huge park, a tranquil spot in the busy downtown area of the city. A focal point is the fountains whose jets of water shoot up in coordination with colored lights and beautiful classical music. On this trip and others I spent many happy hours in this place. In fact, during previous visits, the fountains had been a place of solace for me during lonely times in the city. This link reveals some interesting facts about the Plaza. All of Argentina’s national highways have their Kilometer Zero mark here, their starting point.
Back to our nearby hotel, late – we packed our bags and settled in for our last night in the city. Our funky little room had been a quiet refuge during these days in Buenos Aires.
Day 43 – July 22, 1991
Our last day in Argentina. We woke up early and went out for a last bit of shopping. Among our purchases to take back home were wine (like we needed any more wine!), dulce de leche and dulce de batata. Since we had a long wait until our plane left, we left everything with the hotel owners and headed back out into the street. We took the subte over to the office of our airline to check in for our flight, but they neglected to tell us we could have chosen our seats at that time (more on that later).
Then, for some reason I don’t recall, after hours of sightseeing we ended up at the US embassy. The consular section was closed, but a nice civilian employee let us in and showed us around. We weren’t allowed to film anything on the embassy grounds, and US Marines were conspicuously guarding the place. In a nearby park, we saw lots of monk parakeets. Using the subte once again, we made our way back to Plaza Congreso and had a relaxing time feeding the pigeons on this sunny afternoon. Pizza and beer for supper, followed by ice cream.
The hour arrived to start to make our way home – we flagged down a cab at our hotel and made our way to Ezeiza International Airport. At our airline’s counter, we checked our bags and were informed that since we didn’t choose seats when we checked in earlier in the day (nobody said we could), we ended up in seats that were not together. Then we learned that our departure was delayed by 3 hours, now taking off at 12:30 AM. The airport was seeming less friendly by the minute. We discovered the chapel, the only haven of tranquility in the otherwise dark, grungy place. Even the main display board that told the status of flights was down.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we boarded. A nice guy was willing to trade seats, so it turned out that Johanna and I could sit together after all. The on-board service was excellent, making the long flight pass more quickly. All of the announcements were in 3 languages, which was fun.
Day 4 – 4 – July 23,1991
After a nice breakfast, we landed at 10:00 AM in Toronto. We cleared Canada Customs and Linda Rundle was there waiting for us. The airport was so clean! She took us to her home where we settled in for a spell. Upon unpacking our bags, it quickly dawned on us that a number of things were missing. We phoned Canadian Airlines International and were informed that they were being deluged with calls from passengers who were on our flight. Apparently, during the 3-hour delay, Ezeiza baggage handlers had opened many bags and made off with anything of value. To the airline’s credit, they seemed upset and embarrassed about the whole thing. They told us to make a list of everything that was missing, to put whatever value on it we felt was fair (no receipts or proof of purchase needed) and send it in to them right away. That we did, and they had full reimbursement to us within days.
Johanna flew back to Tucson, to prepare for her upcoming year of teaching. I stayed on a few days to visit with the Rundles, then set out west. I had Johanna’s car, and both it and I needed to make our way back to Arizona. To make a long story even longer, I made several stops along the way. I delayed a while at the town of Clinton, Ontario and paid a visit to the hospital in which I was born – I even saw the house in which I first lived as an infant. Then on to Wisconsin to stay briefly with friends. Next, the long drive to visit my father in Saskatchewan for several days. Farther west, I finally arrived at Banff and Lake Louise for some enjoyable days of climbing. That done, all that remained was the 1,700-mile drive home. It was the 16th of August when finally I arrived – my road trip to Argentina had occupied a full 68 days, and what a glorious adventure it had been.