Claudio, the Argentinian Stalker...

So, I'm totally over my last blog angst, and Thanksgiving dramas...as I'm in Argentina.
Aaaaah, Argentina. I think I've already fallen in love with Argentina!!!

The "Cruces del Lagos" or Chilean Lake Crossing was absolutely amazing. The sun came out for me, shining the whole day, as we made our way from bus to boat to bus to boat to bus to boat to bus to Bariloche, Argentina. 4 buses, 3 boats, 12 hours. A very long, but absolutely breathtaking day. The water of the lakes is a turquoise blue/green that I've never seen before. It's so clear and crisp, you just want to dive into it and/or drink it. The lakes are calm, set in between mountains as far as the eye can see, lush and green at their bases, white with snow at their pinnacles. Waterfalls streaming down the mountains into the lakes. I mean, it's just the most naturally beautiful setting I've ever seen. I don't think many people get to see settings like this in their lifetimes and I felt to lucky to be getting such an opportunity. Amazing.....

On the last boat, which takes you right to the port on the Llao Llao peninsula (where Llao Llao hotel sits perfectly atop the mountain), I met Claudio, a very nice (and cute) sailor on the ship (Kim - he kinda looked like Chad in a weird, Argentinian way) who told me that everyone in town goes to Wilkenny Bar at night and I should go there. Ok...maybe. I hadn't gone out out in a while, so maybe. Exhausted, happy to be in Argentina, the bus drives down Avenue Bustillo from Llao Llao, dropping people off along the way. I am still stunned by the view, at this point, the sun is setting, giving off hues of pink and orange that bounce off the mountains and reflected back off the water. I couldn't take my eyes away from it. Really, it's one of the most unbelievable places I've ever seen. I had wanted to stay at Llao Llao, but on my arrival night, they were booked, so I booked a few days later with them, and opted for a cabana (they're everywhere here, it's a ski town, and there's cottages everywhere for rent) instead, closer to town, for half the price. It looked really nice online, was recc'd by the guidebooks and having a little cottage to spread out in might not be so bad, right?

Well, to say that I'm living in a PALACE here in Bariloche, is an understatment. Forget Llao Llao. Wisemans, you think we had a nice house in Tahoe? Yeah, not so much compared to my little villa here in South America. So, it's huge. It has a kitchen, living room, dining room with seating for 8. A fireplace, 2 bathrooms. My bedroom with walk in closet. Jacuzzi, BBQ, terrace. I mean.... I didn't want to leave. I loved it so much.... But, Wilkenny bar beckoned. I had to go out, and be social. And cute Claudio invited me. Why not?

Wilkenny Bar was an Irish pub that seemed tame when I got there. After settling into a meal of pumpkin soup and a salad, I struck up a conversation with two girls at the table next to me. Turns out, they're both traveling alone too. Sarah, from Sydney, is a hilarious redhead. Anneke (pronounced Anika) is from South Africa, and is a striking, refined blond. They met in Bolivia and have been traveling together ever since. Turns out, Sarah will be arriving in Vietnam the same day as I am! What are the chances!?!??! Anyway, it was such a great night....GIRLTALK! It felt terrific. If there's one thing I miss here, it's that, GIRLTALK. So, you all best be prepared for me to burning up your phone lines when I get home. Anyway...they were on a boat crossing earlier in the day and met a "guide named Claudio" who told them to come to Wilkenny too! This Claudio has his act down with the ladies, seemingly . . . Sarah's hooked on capirhinas since Brazil, so we're getting wasted on them with the Argentinian rugby team, who are in town for the championship game, can only speak phrases "I may not speak much English, but I feel a connection with you" and "I love rugby but I think I can love you more." YEAH. Next thing you know, Claudio shows up. Whispering sweet nothings in my ear. To say the men here are touchy feely. I mean, the caresses, the intensity of the eye contact. It's VERY overwhelming. Asking to come home with me. Anneke is being slobbered over by one of the rugby players who cannot even do the cheesy phrases in English and Sarah is working the bar, capirinha by capirinha. At 5 AM, I finally looked at my watch, then around the PACKED bar and decided fun as it was, it was time to go.... After turning Claudio down on the offer to accompany me home, he made me promise to go to dinner with him the next night. Fine, fine, whatever...just let me go to sleep!!!


Yesterday, we did it all over again. After a rainy day of shopping (where I bumped into my sister/jordan's friend on her honeymoon....I mean, only me, right? who knows people in bariloche??), planning my next moves, etc... I got a call in my room (which I didn't take) from Claudio, and headed out to meet Anneke and Sarah. All of a sudden, Sarah busts thru the door of the pub and goes -- Claudio is outside, he's looking for you! Ok......um.......what? I walk outside where Claudio is waiting, telling me that he's been to every pub in Bariloche after I wasn't at my hotel. He WENT to my hotel and knocked on all of the doors of the cabanas (!!!!!!!) and then proceeded to tell me how mine was laid out, where in the room my computer was, my backpack, my sweater that I wore on the Lake Crossing b/c he was peering in the windows. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?!?! Claudio was the nice boat guy who was so sweet last night. And now, I'm looking into the eyes of my stalker, Claudio, who is no longer so cute.... He then, without being asked, joins us for an amazing dinner at a parillada (or grill, where you pick out a cut of meat and they grill it for you -- huge portions of steak, cooked exactly right for $7 -- amazing meal). Professing his love to me all the while. I can't.....

Back to Wilkenny after dinner, where Claudio proceeds to tell me that he's a realist and he understands that I'm only in town for a few days, but I'm not showing him any "carino" or affection and that he's trying so hard to get me to like him, and it's obvious to him that I don't. At this point, I'm having a "talk" with a guy I met yesterday. Finally, as I'm talking to someone else, he comes over and very angrily tells me he's leaving, I'm not paying him any mind and balls me out to Sarah and Anneke and leaves Wilkenny and my life forever.... Unless he comes a-peering later. Sarah, Anneke and I accompany the rugby team to Rocket, one of the many clubs here. We left to go to Rocket at, gulp, 5 AM. Anneke and I left at 7. Sarah stayed. When we walked outside, it was light out. I flashed back to Cancun, senior year of Michigan, spring break, laughed and crawled into bed. Spent again.

Aaaaahhhh.....Argentina.....

More soon....
xoxoxo

Happy Freakin´ Thanksgiving...

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Thought it would be best to get online and write mine out, because well....let´s be honest...it was heinous. I´m in Puerto Montt, the port town in the Chilean Lake District. It´s here that I´m taking a boat trip for 12 hours tomorrow across to Bariloche in Argentina. Starting the second half of my trip. CRAZY that this is half over. The countries I was most looking forward to hitting were Argentina and Brazil and to think that I have all of that AHEAD of me, after all of the wonderful experiences I´ve had so far in Ecuador, Peru, and Chile. I cannot wait. More so, because today just sucked and I´m going to tell you about it. I feel better venting but you ALL know that already don´t you? Hehe....

So, backtracking a bit: Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday. I´m obsessed with the turkey meal. I´ve just always loved it. Maybe it´s my mom´s Thanksgiving that I love, but it´s always been my favorite holiday. Last year, the title got tarnished a little when, in Puerto Rico, at the buffet at the Ritz, they RAN OUT OF TURKEY right as I was next in line and tried to offer my schwag-cooked-under-the-heat-lamp-leftovers instead. At the Ritz. To which I said (c´mon, unison now...) ¨ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?¨ My dad, sister and Jordan were mortified by my behavior to the holiday waitstaff of the Ritz, I didn´t have turkey and I was upset for days. Seemingly, I´m still not over it. ;)

This year tops it. Getting into Puerto Montt, guess what? It´s raining again. Are you keeping track? Day 5. Then, got in a fight with a Chilean cab driver that took me to no man´s land b-c he misunderstood and took me to the actual name of my hotel, sure, but a street CALLED THAT NAME in the slums, not the HOTEL and I FREAKED OUT (I speak a mean fighting Spanish I realized...) until I understood the mix-up and that he wasn´t going to take me to alley and slaughter me for kicks while his taxi driving cab friends watched them kill the little American chica. But then, we became BFF (obv...) and he asked me where I was from and I said NY and he said, you were so rude with your mouth and your hands and your tone, that I knew you had to be from the United States. ME? RUDE? Then, he let me go for free b-c he thought I was funny and knew that he scared me taking me to that part of town (I was shitting in my pants) and he was sorry, and was tough and stood up for myself. He told me my heart stopped and I turned white. PROJECTS, I tell ya. With like bars on the windows of houses made of cardboard materials. I don´t know why you need bars on cardboard houses, just use a $1 box cutter to bypass the bars part and you´re inside. I mean.... it was a bad scene. There were like wild horses in the middle of the half paved road WITH the wild dogs, cats, goats, rats, mice, pigeons and guinea pigs.

So, I ate a hamburger with guac (big thing here) on it for Thanksgiving dinner after the taxi debaucle. And it´s raining. Did I mention? Again. And the hotels were all booked so I was walking the town in the pouring rain, with my 400 lb wheelie bag that kept flipping over down EVERY curb and knocking my ankle out, going into every hotel asking, begging for a place to stay, and they had NONE (I went to about 8), and finally some receptionist was nice and told me that a new hotel just opened and had 170 rooms and I should check there, so I did. But, NEW HOTEL DRAMA, the first room wasn´t ready and like had dirty sex bed sheets still happening when I walked in. The second room had no lights or electricity hooked up. The third room the key wasn´t working. When I finally got into mine, and was changing, the door flies open with a staffer giving a tour of the new facilities... HELLO!?!?! Did you not check with the front desk about WHICH room to use as show!!!! I was mid-pant change. `Lo siento, lo siento, senorita`... says the tour guide backing out of the room gingerly. Geez. Then, the ¨machina de tarjeta de credito´ isn´t up and running yet, so I had to find myself a money exchange (another hour of rain walking) or else I couldn´t stay there. Aren´t hotels a SERVICE industry. Meaning, they serve you?!?!? Not in Puerto Montt, Chile. I mean....all I wanted was a ROOM!!!! A bed. A place to wash my face. OH, and I´m PMS.

I´m OVER Chile today, can you tell?

Onto Argentina tomorrow. Crossing through the lakes. CAN´T WAIT. Maybe it´ll rain again. That would be nice and different. I´m fine, I´m fine but today´s been a long, long day. And I VERY MUCH needed to vent. I just want some turkey. And sun. Sun would be nice.

Happy Thanksgiving. Big smiles. No, really.

xoxo

PS. I just reread this, what a day! Thanks for listening...

Romancing the Stone....

I made my way from Santiago to Pucon, Chile in an overnight bus two days ago.
Yes, you read correctly, an overnight BUS.

I asked my concierge at the Santiago hotel to book me an overnight TRAIN with a sleeping car and he booked a bus. So, I bit the bullet and went. Again, the public transportation here in Chile is fantastic.
Basically, it's a double-decker bus with seats that flatten out into beds. Black out shades, snacks, breakfast for like $50! 12 hour trip. I'm going to try to see if I can do the same thing from the south of Argentina to Buenos Aires, it's so much less hassle than getting to the airport, checking bags, going thru immigration, sitting waiting for the flights, etc... I'm now a converted busser.

Arrived in Pucon, a ski town here in the south of Chile yesterday morning at 9:30 AM. It´s pouring here, day two of it, no less. But the town has so much charm, even in torrential downpour, that I can't help but adore it and want to make every moment count. My hotel fronts the Plaza and backs Lake Villaricca. The best way that I can explain Pucon is that it's like Interlachen, Switzerland. Set in the mountains, surrounded by lakes, with tons of outdoor activities. I just can't help but look around here, craning my neck constantly for a better view of the snow-capped mountains and the blue of the lakes.

Deciding NOT to waste time, I went rafting yesterday. Yes, I know, I know. We're all taught in the States that thunderstorms and being outside in them equals sudden death by lightning, that's not the consensus here in Chile, so I went with it, and took a Class IV rafting trip down the Trancuro River with two guys from Chicago. My guides Jorge and Christian (the rescue kayaker) were skeptical of how successful a trip it would be, considering the rain, but took us anyway.
I had a blast! The rapids were fantastic and enormous. We actually had to walk the raft down the river for a couple of the rapids because they were too strong and the current would've toppled us. But, what an exhilirating feeling. Better than sitting in a hotel, waiting for Mother Nature to give it a rest.

Of course, the day couldn't be without incident. During the 'walking the raft' segment of time, we (me, Mark and Sam, the Chicago boys) had to walk thru the jungle to get the end of the rapid. In our wetsuits and booties, torrential downpours, it was a bit slippery, so I'm not sure what exactly possessed to take a shortcut from one riverbank to the other by climbing through a huge tree. YEAH, I'm always full of bright ideas. Well.....serves me right. I fell out of a tree while going across and
I´m sore as shit. Like full on "Romancing the Stone (thank you Karen) jungle acrobatics. Shimmying out to the edge of the very strong, thick branch. Shimmy, shimmy, shimmy. Moving my ass right on down. As I got above two huge rocks where I had planned in putting my feet down and jumping across to the next riverbank, the slick branch betrayed me, ungripping my ass, and letting me plummet, footing not yet quite right on the rocks, down. Flipping while hitting the fissure between the two rocks. My helmet (THANK GOD) bounced off one rock, then the other, while my hips flew straight up in the air. A complete an utter wipe out. I don´t black and blue easily, and I am like blackened on elbow, hips and knees. I literally fell out of a tree!!! Thank god the raft trip photographer didn't get THAT shot. Well, kinda funny if he did.

Anyway, I´m fine but just kicked around today, no rainy outdoor activities for me. Hopefully, the weather will clear tomorrow, there's an active volcano here that is supposed to be an amazing hike, with hot springs to ease the pain afterwards. The weather report for tomorrow is looking better. But, the south of Chile, bruises and all, is wonderful. I absolutely love it.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone... Mind you, I've yet to see turkey on a menu anywhere. Guinea pigs, yes (it's a delicacy in South America). Turkey, no. So, I'm very jealous of you all....

More soon.

xoxo
~M

Saketinis in Santiago...

So, a few nights ago, I went out with Tony, a Chilean friend of a friend from HarperCollins who lives in Santiago.
He was born in Chile, but has lived everywhere from New York and Miami to Rio, to London, to Buenos Aires, but now is back
here. He's been very helpful throughout re: Chile and South America. He took me out last night in Bellavista, the Villagey part of Santiago. What a night! I realized I'm just not equipped for South American night life and better get it together before I get to Buenos Aires and Rio and have to really pull out the stops....

Tony is 39, about 6'5" and looks like John C. Reilly from Boogie Nights. Picks me up in a little Alfa Romeo, and takes me to
some fabu sushi place called Etniko (a play on the word Ethnic, I'm told) that's hidden behind a door and you have to "know" about it. It's like Bond Street or as close in feel as it can be. Have drinks, I order a saketini. They almost
balked when I asked for sake and VODKA...very conservative city and he said it's unladylike to drink like that here... he wasn't being rude, just explaining and being incredulous of my order at the same time. Tony's the mayor, knows everyone. Amazing...people keep coming to table. I'm minding my own business, happy to be eating SUSHI, though the comparison with the sushi we all know and love isn't necessary, not even close to the same thing! After dinner, I'm maintaining I'm FINE (having had vodka for the first time in 3 weeks) and we head to the next place which is a little Chilean bar that unbeknownst to us, they're doing poetry readings and an open mike at..... We're loosening up a bit, or maybe it's me doing the loosening b/c I I knock my WHOLE MARGARITA as the waitress is putting it down ALL OVER him. Not a drop touches me. NOT ONE DROP. But remember, I'm FINE.....

I can tell he's livid, but dealing. I was getting up/down in the middle of the poetry reading to get napkins (I cleaned out the whole supply b/c in S. America, napkins are like 1-ply paper. They crumble up into a spitball, like you can't evn put it on your lap but it's only as big as your kneecap and so light (1-ply) that it flies off from like a sneeze breeze from 2 tables down. HORRIBLE. So, I use all the napkins and my heels are clicking back/forth as I keep getting more napkins for him b/c he's Margarita-sticky. The Chileans who are VERY SERIOUS about their poetry/singer dudes on stage are pissed at us. I'm asking them to take pictures, to boot. Blah, blah... So, we move on. Now, at this point, we're best friends, bonding over the spillage and the awful poetry set to song.

So, we then go to some CLUB called La Feria. Again, hidden behind a door, it's a full on lair. Red everywhere, the walls, the couches, the light fixtures. The DJ is jamming with himself like it's New Years Eve. But, we're early and there's nobody there. It's like 2 AM!!! And we go in anyway, and just sit on these red couches and talk and I'M WASTED b/c I haven't had vodka, and now I've had 3 (do you believe I'm saying this...?)!!! And, at about 3 AM, the club starts to fill up with all these Chilean youngsters that I cannot believe are JUST coming out to play, and thinking to myself, what the hell happened to the days when I WAS A YOUNGSTER like this and could drink 7 saketinis and hold my own and dance all night and never come down. I'm sad to leave, goddamnnit, I've got dancing shoes. But, I just can't party forward, I need sleep. And...........was miserable the next day. My first serious South American hangover.

Moral of the story: I have a lot of work to do before I get to Buenos Aires, let alone Rio. A lot of freakin' work......

~M

Would you believe, I love the Metro!

Santiago....

I wasn't sure what I expected from Santiago. The word on the street is that there's nothing to "see" here, it's a city you'll pass through. Not for me, I've now been here for 4 days.... I like getting to a city and settling myself into ONE hotel, unpacking and doing everything I can from one localized city. It's not as hectic a pace, not as harried a schedule, and you get a better feel for the places you're visiting, as opposed to only tastes of more cities. At least, that's what is working for me. I'm taking day trips to Valparaiso and Vina del Mar (beach towns outside of Santiago) and took a day trip to the vineyards the other day. It's just easier than being go, go, go, every 2 days. So, hi from Santiago, Chile!

Santiago is VERY modern, very clean, and feels very American. The American brands are everywhere, posted on billboards, on street signs, it's omni-present just how westernized Santiago is. It reminds me a little bit of Washington DC, at least in the "Gringo" parts of El Bosque and Las Condes and Vitacura. It's very much high-rise, glass buildings, interspersed with leafier streets and older, little townhouses that house restaurants and residences. For some reason, I'm channeling DC a bit. It actually felt kinda nice to be in a city when I first got here, the familiarily of seeing AT&T, Hooters and Ruby Tuesday, Starbucks and Jeep. I felt very "city girlish" and when I saw a Starbucks, ran for it with a pace that I haven't hit since my last jaunt on my treadmill as Sports Club LA. But, I'm over it and excited to go to Valparaiso/Vina del Mar tomorrow which supposedly have a little more culture. Then, down to the lake region of Chile for some Andean mountain time in the outdoors on Sunday. Modern is good, in doses, I'm finding. But, the more rewarding places have been those I don't know as familiar, not the ones that I'm too comfortable in.

Also, the people in Santiago are more conservative than in other cities. The city, the people just lack a little passion as far as I've seen so far. And, they admit that. They know that the city is just a little more hands-off than the rest of South American in many ways. Their lifestyle is more sedate, there's more quiet, there's less flavor. I like Santiago, it's just a little bland.
On the first day here, I just kicked around town, exploring (on foot) Gringo land. I met up with a friend of a friend who lives down here, is Chilean, Tony. We met for coffee on what might as well be the Miracle Mile of Santiago. LV, Hermes, Longchamp, Burberry. Boy, does he know where to take the NY girls... I had my first Cafe Helado and just explored the city on foot. I wound up stopping for a glass of wine at a bar, unbeknownst to me at the time, called, of ALL things, Publicity. Go figure......

My second day here I took in more of the sights, riding a funicular up to the top of San Cristobal, overlooking the city, seeing the snow-capped Andes in the backdrop. It's easy to tell direction here (thank you, Brett Isaccson), if you see the Andes, that's the east. Helpful to know. VERY helpful to know. San Cristobal is part of Parque Metropolitan, which is in Bellavista, the more bohemian section of town. Colorful little homes, tree-lined streets teeming with cafes and outdoor restaurants. Here, I stopped for a conger eel soup, which is a whitefish that they serve locally. Then, onto La Chascona. The Santiago home of Nobel prize winning poet, Pablo Neruda. His homes (there are 3) are attractions here in Chile, they are all VERY eclectic, he was a collector of everything and his houses are amazing to see. What struck me is that they let you sit in the chairs, touch the books, and things stored in the house. Imagine going into, like...Roosevelt's Oyster Bay house, and dilly dallying with the mooseheads he killed on African safaris. Right..... So, La Chascona is named after his lover, Matilde. It literally means BAD HAIR. The guide, a funny little man with a fantastic ranchero mustache that you see in my pix (couldn't pass up a photo of his 'stache...) told us that Matilde had big bushy hair and they called her La Chascona or Medusa, hence the name of the house. Granted, I have a japanese treatment on my hair now, but can you imagine if my famous poet husband of my future decided to name our house after my old hair...? I mean, talk about the most heinous of insults!!?!?! Then, to meet Ike's brother Brett who lives here and is a TWIN for Ike, but bigger. Very weird to meet someone's sibling in Santiago for the first time. He took me to a place for the typical Chilean sandwich, which are everywhere down here. Very good, but not sure how many more Chilean sandwiches are in my future. ;)

On the third day, I had a debaucle with the Sheraton, as I used AmEx points for my room there the first two nights but try explaining that to the Spanish desk guy who could give a shit about you and your American Express card and tries to make you pay double. I mean.... Then, my Treo spazzed (in a modern city like Santiago of ALL places) and so, I spent part of the day, trying to get back online with that. Then, I put hot milk in my Cocoa Puffs knockoff b/c I didn't the sign on the breakfast buffet that said HOT MILK and then, they didn't have anymore cereal left and the eggs looks like vomit and so I didn't eat breakfast before heading out. Again...stupid issues but frustrating, nonetheless.

Headed then, to the vineyards. Concha y Toro, the #1 exporter of Chilean wine to the States. I tried it in Costa Rica, and have since been hooked, so it was great to get to tour the vineyard, send home a ton of rare bottles that I can't get in the States and get out of the city for part of the day. I even, GULP, mastered the Metro here. The subway is amazing. The MTA should take a few tips from the Chilean government on how to create worthwhile, clean and efficient public transportation systems. It was fantastic and I went to Conchy y Toro on the subway, then to a bus, and back....EFFORTLESSLY. I arrived at the Plaza de Armas, which is eye-candy with all the performance artists, kiosks of Chilean art for sale, chess players in various stages of games and other such distractions. Pretty wild scene, you don't know where to look first. There's a lot of dirty old men with bellies overhanging their pants on the Plaza, waiting for girlies like me to ask them to take a photo, at which point, they harass you to join them for coffee, a drink or whatnot, following you around the Plaza like a lost puppy. But, I digress....

I lunched at Mercado Central, which is the fish market. It's exactly how South Street Seaport used to be with the open air fish vendors selling their catches of the day everywhere. But, here in the middle of the market, is a huge restaurant called Donde Augusto that sells lunches, dinners of the fish from the market. Total tourist trap, but fantastic fish and atmosphere. Worth the trip. The waiters all bum rush you as you walk in, trying to get you to sit in their section (ummm, what are they all freaking out about, it's the SAME restaurant) and then, bombard you with choices to eat. It's overwhelming but kinda fun to play with them all. I sat overlooking the whole market and my waiter (didn't catch name) decided to fall for me, wrote me a love letter on the tourist post card and then, proceeded to get a guitarist to accompany his "Ode to Marie" in the middle of the whole place, and SANG TO ME loud and passionately for all to see. He said "Amor" in the song like 50 times. I was....MORTIFIED. You think getting a meek rendition of Happy Birthday by 2 waiters in ---enter your favorite birthday restaurant here----- is bad. Go to Donde Augusto, I promise, it's much much worse.

So, that's where I'm at..... now, I'm signing off to go shower for some dinner with Tony, who's going to take me out local Chilean style in Bellavista. Then, tomorrow, I'm off to the beach towns of Valparaiso and Vina del Mar to work on my jacked tan . . . I'm VERY uneven b/c of Peru. I'll report more soon... Hope you're all doing well.

xoxo