Hola Mendoza!

God bless the long weekends here. These Chileans know how to work a federal holiday- when it lands on a Thursday, squeeze Friday right on in with it. I love it. With my 5 day weekend, I took to bus riding over to Mendoza, Argentina with Renee. What was going to be a 3 days/nights trip ended up being much less thanks to an Andean traffic jam and a painfully long wait at the Chile-Argentina border. Try five hours. In freezing cold weather . . . in Crocs.
We left Santiago around 1:30 and as soon as we were out of the immediate vicinity of Santiago, I was reminded of just how beautiful this area is. Sometimes I forget that clean air still exists. Even more impressive were the views as we began our ascent through the Andes. I’d heard from people who traveled to Mendoza a few weeks ago that the ride itself was one of the best parts of their trip, but I was not really prepared for how surreal and beautiful it was. The switchbacks were a bit daunting, though, especially considering that our driver was taking corners a bit faster than I would’ve in a 16-foot high vehicle, but we made it unscathed. The traffic jam was terrible. We were in stop and go motions for about 2 hours- meaning, stop for 30 minutes, then go for about three. The view was pacifying me for a good while until the sun set and it was really cold and my seat uncomfortable so all I could think about was getting the hell to Mendoza. We made it to the border by 6:30 and were told by our driver’s very friendly co-pilot that we’d be waiting three or four hours. This was a Chilean estimate, so we figured it would probably be about four to five, but were hoping for three. With a long wait ahead of us, we ventured out to check out the “shopping” and Renee enjoyed her first real-life encounter with snow (not counting the fluff at Mountain High). Sorely underprepared with chips and cookies for the bus ride, we stood in line for food for a good 90 minutes- the whole time, not fully knowing if they’d accept our Chilean pesos or offer any food we might eat. Ok, food Renee might eat, as she’s a vegetarian and I’m well . . . not picky. We figured there was nothing else to do while we froze our asses off- and me, my feet. (Maybe I should’ve succumbed to Chilean peer pressure where Croc donning is concerned. My feet would’ve been happier) There were three little snack shacks open for several hundred people and I enjoyed the first taste of Argentine beef . . . and prices. A giant, grilled beef sandwich on fresh bread was only about a buck fifty. The border patrol seemed a bit inefficient, with only 6 booths open to filter everyone through but by 11:30, we finally boarded back on the bus and were on the final leg of the trip to Mendoza, where we arrived at 3:30 AM. Both of us were kind of stressed because from the terminal it appeared that everything was closed and the only people inside were passengers camping out on benches. We wondered just how we might get to our hostel with no map, only an address and no Taxis in sight. However, we did find transportation and made it safely to Las Legaras, where we were greeted by a very friendly and chatty young man, Fabricio. Although we’d been dying for a bed, we couldn’t sleep immediately so we got the low-down on Mendoza from Fabricio, who happens to be some kind of tourism apprentice and was more than happy to tell us about all the hot spots. Finally, we lay down in our 6-bed, dormitory style room and slept through snores and strange moans until later in the morning when the lovely maid woke us up with vacuuming. What a start, huh?
Well, when we finally made our way out for some marathon shopping (as prices, style and quality are pure shit in Santiago). Boots and coats were on the list, but we were sidetracked by bargains of other sorts. I did end up getting some nice belts at a night market, but no boots to be bargained for. Renee ultimately convinced me that shopping in Buenos Aires would be better. She only has two weeks to wait, but I have to wait until Shannon arrives in June, so it was a bit tough to give up on the quest.
While my style of boots weren’t really easy to find, fantastic food, coffee and wine were. Very cheaply as well. For our first meal, we enjoyed a leisurely, huge lunch. Salads, pizza, pasta bebidas and gourmet coffees- all less than $20. All of the food was great, but our first parilla was AMAZING. Renee and I were wandering, looking for a place that might accommodate my carnivorous mood and her vegetarianism when we ran into Sandra (another English teacher) and some of her friends. We ended up at a place called Caro Pepe and I will NEVER forget it. I was thinking the whole time, how much my friends and particularly my food-loving family would love it. You might’ve guessed that it’s a buffet, but with freshly grilled-to-order meat. Chicken, fish, sausage, beef, lamb . . . all cuts too, which was interesting. There were many things consumed I couldn’t identify, but enjoyed no less. On top of that, there was a pasta bar, where fresh pasta of your choice was cooked in front of you with your choice of sauce. ADDITIONALLY, can I just say that Argentina rocks salads- - especially at Pepe’s. What with produce abundant, it’s a mystery why the hell you can’t find a decent salad in Santiago for under $12 (going rate for any Caesar salad). Everything was delicious. The desert bar was fantastic as well, but rich enough that I couldn’t bear a second trip. I regretted not getting the fresh crepes with dulce de leche though. I imagined real hard though so I’ll just report that they were amazing too.
With thoughts of maids vacuuming while we slept, we opted to stay the night at the apartment that Sandra and Serra, her friend visiting from Phildelphia, were renting. Renee and I enjoyed a cozy night on the futon and were able to sleep in without disruption from any maid. It was so pleasant we decided to stay our last night there as well. Something I came to momentarily regret doing when I realized hot water wasn’t available. I’ve taken many cold showers before, but never where it was so cold it HURT. I’ve never scrubbed and rinsed so fast, but still was shivering violently for several minutes- mind you it was quite cold in Mendoza, contrary to pre-departure weather reports read in Santiago.
We went out for another parilla and I enjoyed yet more steak and salad =). Afterwards, we met up with Sandra’s bus buddy (she talks to more people than I do when I’m home), Rodrigo, and went to a discotheque with him and his friend. The place was about 15 minutes outside of Mendoza, on the side of a highway. It looked like a scene from the movie “Roadhouse”. Inside and out. Inside was ridiculously packed and fortunately I didn’t learn the hard way how long it took to travel from one side to the other- namely, from where we were dancing to the bathrooms. Seriously, crossing about 40 feet through the sea of people took a good ten minutes or more. I give Chilean men credit for only having obnoxious catcalls, but having the decency to keep their hands to themselves. I can’t say how many times my butt/arms/waist/everything were grabbed. On top of that, what was more annoying were the men who kept trying to talk to me with deafening music going on, after they clearly learned I don’t speak Spanish well enough to communicate beyond the noise. One guy thought he could speak English but he made NO sense- was either too drunk or I was really deaf- and kept following me around telling me “look me! I talk to you!”, when he spoke. This wasn’t working with my tactic for ignoring him! Most men would just walk away after I told them I couldn’t hear or understand them (in Spanish), but not Richard. Others were persistent but not to the extent that he was.
Our last morning was spent enjoying a real breakfast, with real coffee (though the pending return to Nescafe remained at the back of my mind). Breakfast at restaurants doesn’t exist in Santiago, so we were loving the eggs, coffee, toasted sandwiches and fruit salads. Since we had buses leaving at similar times, we shared a cab to the bus terminal then bid farewell. The return trip was looking more promising as soon as we boarded . . . bigger bus, wider aisle, deeper recline of the seats, less passengers and movies! Also, the bathroom was on the lower level so we didn't have to worry about stinkers wafting towards us, especially since there was a "no caca" sign on the door. Even the experience at the border was better on the return, with only two and a half hours of waiting. We got back to Santiago after only 8 hours, just in time to prepare for a busy upcoming week. Thankfully I didn’t have classes at 8:30 on Monday morning like Renee, but still plenty to do.