February 24, 2008 by Naomi.

The sweltering humid heat that welcomed us off the plane was big shock after the bitter cold of NY. A taxi whipped us off to Palermo - a better neighbourhood could not be adopted for a week in BA. It’s tree-lined streets feature an eclectic mix of fancy boutiques and shops, bars and restaurants, on every corner and street, and our flat was situated right in the middle of it all.

Our excellent choice of location meant there were an excess of temptations right on our doorstep. Indeed on Valentine’s Day, a bottle of Argentinian cava in our flat was followed by a delicious, succulent beefy meal and another bottle of fabulous Argentinian wine (Malbec Altas las Hormigas) at Bar Uriarte across the road, after which we thought a brandy on the opposite corner would be an excellent way to finish off the night. However, the generous Argentine measures finished us off a bit more than we anticipated and killed any plans for the following day. Other delights experienced in our newly-beloved Palermo were a GBP3/US$6 legwax (less than 10% of what it costs back in UK), albeit being one of the most painful ever encountered. Less fortunate was the GBP10/US$20 haircut (a complete rip off by local standards), the results of which were quite distressing on peering in the mirror first thing in the morning (a messy mop of long and short hair in a kind of triangular shape). A few random hacks with a pair of nail scissors made the hairstyle somewhat more manageable although aesthetically not much more pleasing.

We were very pleased not to be staying in the centre of BA, which was heavily polluted, noisy and extremely chaotic, and therefore extremely hot. This part of town we saved for the weekend, and especially enjoyed exploring San Telmo, the most historic part, full of quirky antique shops, an even more bohemian market on Sunday, and French and Italian architecture (apparently due to post-colonial resentment of the Spanish). In this barrio we managed to rent a couple of bikes to get a proper tour of the city and its parks. From our bikes, we got our first glimpse of the Rio de la Plata - its very muddy brown hue renders its name ‘Silver River’ a whopping misnomer, and there was no temptation for a paddle, despite the repressing heat of the sun. Various monuments to those who gave their lives to Las Malvinas/the Falklands Islands were encountered. Especially grand was the cenotaph in Plaza San Martin, with two traditionally-attired and disciplined guards watching over it (who must have been suffering unbearably in the blazing sun). From various snippets of radio and newspaper, we get the impression that Margaret Thatcher is not the most popular character around these parts. Needless to say, look at any map of Argentina and you’ll see that Las Malvinas are present, and marked as part of Argentina.

Having spotted a poster advertising a free concert in Parque Lezana headlined by a band called Las Bicicletas, we decided that would be Saturday night’s entertainment. After a couple of refreshing beers, we turned up with the local kids to catch some of the local indie vibe. We weren’t overly impressed with the first support band, ‘No lo soporto’, an all female spikey art-rock combo, and skipped the second one to get more liquid refreshments, but Las Bicicletas were more than worth the admission price with their catchy tunes and dancy beats.

Possibly one of the more harrowing aspects of the city was travelling on the subte (metro/underground/subway). The hot, sweaty, claustrophobic journeys are almost continuously punctuated by pedlars and beggars. If you weren’t having trinkets dropped in your lap, you were listening to various monologues imploring people for money. Sadly these included a heavily scarred woman trying to collect enough money for operations to rectify her badly burnt face and body, and others who were severely handicapped.

When strolling around this great city, it’s imperative to be on the look out as Buenos Aires is matched only by Seville in the quantity of dog poo to be found lining the streets. Indeed, it was disappointing to find that public toilets are sometimes treated with a similar level of respect, two unfortunate habits the Argentines have not yet managed to wipe out in their efforts to distance themselves from their colonial ancestors.

Despite the drawbacks, however, we enjoyed a very thrilling week in this most vibrant of cities, and are thoroughly looking forward to coming back in May.

Recommended after this visit:
Bici Naranja for rental bikes (San Telmo)
Bouchon - good value French restaurant for lunch (Microcentro)
Bar Uriarte (Argentinian - Palermo)
Bar Vain - funky bar (Palermo)
Antares - Brewery (Palermo)
Berberer - Moroccan restaurant (Palermo)
La Cabrera (never actually got there but meat and accompanying sauces look good and is apparently most popular restaurant in BA at the moment) and our first stop when we go back
Most Cinemas, which show all but kids’ films in versión original with subtitles

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February 21, 2008 by Naomi.

Travelling to an airport without bicycles is highly recommended. With great ease we checked ourselves and very simple rucksacks in and flew back over the Atlantic for a long weekend in the Big Apple before heading south to continue with our travels. Once again, we were smote with the charm of those US immigration officers who, this time, sent us off to the ’secondary examination area’, where Naomi (but not Paul) timidly and tiredly answered the various questions barked at her. Clearly we were entering the States far too frequently for their liking (despite having a 10-year US visa firmly glued into our passports). It seems a month is insufficient time for the last of our paperwork (on departure from Phoenix) to be cleared and entered onto the computer system.

We were welcomed by Melinda, a friend of Paul’s from his early days in Seville, and Paulo, in their compact but bijou apartment in Brooklyn. For the next four days, we shopped and walked til our feet bled, and found refuge in cinemas, various bars and restaurants around Manhattan and Brooklyn. One particularly exciting night out saw us start out at a party at Paulo’s architect office, where quite copious amounts of booze were consumed. We drunkenly delighted in the view of the Empire State Building from the roof, but not before setting off the fire alarm by pressing the emergency bar to get out there. Much later on, we ended up in rather seedier company in a bar called Clem’s in Brooklyn. One particularly follically unchallenged bloke fondling his stars and stripes took great exception to our presence and desperately tried to pick a fight with us ‘redcoats’, using the positioning of Paul’s chair as an excuse. Luckily, our new-found enemy sent his mate to question us on the Irish Problem, and found someone better to pick on before Paulo was tempted to take things further.

Temperatures dropped quite dramatically during our visit and culminated in a great blizzard as we wandered the streets of New York with Mark on a bleak Sunday afternoon. From that moment on, at each corner we turned a blisteringly cold wind tore at any exposed skin on our faces and made being outside quite unbearable. Was this a forewarning of our visit Patagonia, where car renters are warned to watch out when opening car doors in case the wind tears doors off their hinges?

On our last night in Brooklyn, we ate dinner with our hosts at the excellent Bamonte’s, where the service is slow, and the waiters all over 70. But it is a regular hang out of wiseguys, the connected of Brooklyn and out-of-state mobsters, or at least the autographed photos on the wall of various Soprano’s actors, Italian celebrities and Tony Danza, would have you believe. At least the traditional Italian food lived up to the myth even if most of the clientele didn’t.

Recommendations after this visit:
Breakfast at Egg in Brooklyn
Prix Fixe lunch at Gotham Bar and Grill in Greenwich Village (30 bucks)
Erotic Photo Hunt at the Racoon Lodge in downtown Manhattan, but not the juke box!
Clem’s in Brooklyn if you’re looking for trouble!

We are proud to say that our written blog is now finally up to date with the photoblog, to clear up any confusion our readers may have had. We hope to keep it this way although some internet cafes are rife with technical problems…

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February 18, 2008 by Naomi.

In Puerto Vallarta, two options presented themselves for the next couple of weeks. Paul had to be back in Seville on 14th January for a courtcase to rescue his kitchen and we set a date for our return to Europe: 9th January. In the meantime, we had the option of either pedalling it to Mexico City (inevitably including the odd bus trauma as once again our set distances were over-ambitious) or we could head to Arizona with the rest of Paul’s family and do a little road trip around some of the canyons and spectacles that the four corner area has to offer. For a number of reasons the latter won hands down; the roads to Mexico City didn’t look at all cycle friendly and the copper canyon had instilled enthusiasm to see other similar delights.

We flew to Phoenix and Mark (Paul’s brother) picked us up in swanky convertible. Bicycles were not allowed on the road out of the airport so they were shoved in the back of the car on the cream leather seats, while N waited in the freezing cold for the second trip. Driving around is inevitably a lot less interesting than travelling on a bicycle, but the distances we were hoping to cover, not to mention some of the freezing temperatures we experienced, meant that using a car was much more practical. The following day we sadly abandoned the bikes at a friend’s house and made our way to Sedona, where we spent several days admiring the surrounding red rock formations, riding (rental) bikes, playing golf and enjoying lots of food that was not Mexican.

From Sedona, we drove to the Grand Canyon, then Monument Valley, then Zion Canyon and after exploring these amazing places for a few days (the photos speak for themselves) and trying to find alcohol (always a challenge on Indian Reservations or in Utah for that matter), Paul insisted on a visit to Vegas. Jammy thing that he is, he came second in a poker tournament and managed to squeeze a good $1,500 out of those infamous one-armed bandit (although tax man ran off with 40%). No such luck for N, who after losing a few dollars no matter what she touched, became a gambling widow for two very long nights, and wondered how a place could be so glitzy, glammed up, greedy, stinky and quite repugnant all at the same time.

We heaved a big sigh of relief on leaving that ghastly city, a visit to the Hoover Dam and a night in Prescott made us feel somewhat more human again. And in Phoenix we had the big dilemma of what to do with our bikes on our flight home. Leaving them unpacked was too dangerous an option as US Air would not take any responsibility if they got damaged. Packing them was a pain as it meant finding bike boxes and transporting them to the airport. We did the latter and the whole process took half a day. The bikes had to be taken part almost completely and put in the only bike boxes the bike shop had to offer, and then we were very lucky indeed to just squeeze them in the car. After some logistical thinking, we made it to the airport without problems, and flew home to London for a good think about what we were going to do next, among various other things.

Once again, we apologise for the delay in updating our blog, you can see more regarding our whereabouts from the photoblog, which is currently more up to date!

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