The roar of a plane engine flying nearby just sucker-punched me in the gut. I've got flight envy... bad. At dinner with my grandmother Joan the other night we sat on the back patio of her Arlington condo, which provides perfect views of planes taking off from DCA. Maga Joan (I gave her this name once I could talk) loved and left many corners of the world, including Botswana, Costa Rica, and on twenty-something different occasions... Vienna, Austria. Knowing that I'm afflicted with the same wanderlust as she is, I took a mental note in that moment to not overlook whether a potential home has such a view in the future when making real-estate decisions. They say the golden rule of real estate is "Location! Location! Location!" My preference is that it literally be in three locations. A girl can dream.
Anyways, today's plane roar inspired me to get back to the blog. Every time someone has come over to my house lately, they are bringing me a bottle of Malbec because they know it's from Mendoza. They either think I'm a Malbec expert now... or they want to make a gesture to connect with my recent travels to Mendoza. Either way, I'm flattered. I haven't really written about my time in Mendoza. Let me start by saying that I have tried to write this post multiple times and either technical difficulties or emotional difficulties stopped it from happening. Then, because I wanted posts to be chronological, I didn't write about the rest of my trip at all.
After a final night in Beunos Aires of tango lessons and the making of a lot of remarkable memories that I don't care to remark on on the public domain (but have dinner with me and I might tell you), Patti and I got on a north-westbound bus for Mendoza, Argentina. Our first time on a bus was quite the adventure. We really did no research, which I think added to the fun. For example, we attempted to prematurely evacuate the bus several times because we kept thinking we might be in Mendoza. Each time, the stewardess caught us with "No es Mendoza," and sent us back upstairs to our semi-cama seats. Semi-cama are the economy seats and something we learned on that trip was that if you're traveling for more than say... six hours... it's is worth it to spring for the Ejecutivo seats. The lesson from the multiple attempted "dismounts" was that these buses make multiple stops on their route to pick up and drop off other passengers. But, they don't really announce which stop they're at. Somehow people just know where they are. The best part of the bus was the amazing assortment of movies. I wish I could remember which ones but oh man... they either played good movies such as "Man on Fire," or the sorts of movies that are so bad they're funny. And they did it in a "bait and switch" fashion. I just asked Patti if she could remember the films from that particular bus ride and her response was "'Bad Teacher' and then some really sh!tty zombie movie." The best thing we viewed on that trip though were the Andes mountains as we got closer to Mendoza. Breathtaking.
Patti and I arrived in Mendoza on Good Friday with no reservations or plans anywhere. We were riding pretty high on that sense of adventure until we'd visited nearly every hostel in the city of Mendoza and they all informed us that they were booked because Easter weekend is one of the busiest for Mendoza vacations. Oopsie. One guy suggested a tent and we had to seriously consider it. Thanks to smart phones, we did find a boutique hotel about 30 minutes outside of the city of Mendoza (and right in the middle of several bodegas) in the pretty down of Chacras de Coria. Hotel SanFransisco was a bit of an unexpected splurge but still cheaper than what we would have paid for the same thing in the states and truthfully, it was relief to feel so "removed" after a week in the bustle of Beunos Aires.
After falling asleep by the pool for a few hours, we got ourselves together to explore the town, still exhausted from not enough sleep in the semi-cama seats and hauling our backpacks around the city for hours trying to find a place to live. The town was absolutely gorgeous. The homes were all beautiful and it seemed everyone had their own grapes growing and a pet German Shepard. Which reminds me... I stopped by the Animal Welfare League of Arlington recently to donate some toys and food, and it got me thinking how I don't think such a thing existing Argentina or many other countries because they let the dogs roam free or kill them if they're rabid. I don't know which one is a better system... just an observation. Anyways, Patti and I practically tripped over this little bodega called Pulmary as we were wandering and it turned out to be such a great find. The wine was all organic, the cheese and charcueterie board was scrumptious, and the staff was very laid back and un-pretentious... maybe even a little sketchy. Pol, who gave us the tour, was certainly a character. He had this unidentifiable accent... something to do with being U.S. born but his parents were both Danish and raised him part of his life in Spain... or something like that. When I asked if we could take a picture, he said it was OK as long as he wasn't in any because he didn't want to be found. We weren't sure if we should be nervous or excited, but we let the intrigue win over when he started pouring us "tastings" the size of full glasses of wine.
Following the bodega, we walked our sauced selves into the heart of town and wandered into an innocent looking shop serving tastings of all sorts of jams, tapanads, dulce de leche flavors... and liquors... including their homemade absinthe. We enjoyed all that they had to offer and then poured ourselves into a cab to go meet my friend Cliff for dinner in the city of Mendoza. When I'd announced on Facebook that I was in Argentina a week before, Cliff popped up and let me know that he was as well and we'd planned to meet up in Mendoza since we'd both be there Easter weekend. I feel pretty bad that we showed up as exhausted and inebriated as we were because I don't think it made us very exciting dinner companions. And we certainly didn't make it past dinner. It was fun though to see another familiar face from home and I remember the food was awesome. It's so funny that by coincidence, or universal/ divine intervention, Cliff's good friends from high school are now my roommates!
We spent the next day resting by the pool and wandering around a winery that we found out we weren't really supposed to be at.
The next morning, Patti and I took the scariest cab ride of our lives deeper into the mountains to spend the day at some thermal pools that looked nice in a brochure in the hotel lobby. Although the driver was a mad man on those switchback roads, he was a nice guy who could tell we loved the views and stopped a couple of time to let us out for pictures. A result of another one of those "lost in translation" mishaps, we arrived at Thermas Cacheuta an hour before it actually opened. Or anything in the teeny tiny town it was in. And it was chilly because we were at a higher elevation and the sun was still working it's way over the mountain peak. So... we walked around. We sat down. We did some yoga stretches. Walked around more. Got into a general store-type shop as it started to open and poked around. Pet some horses. Told a guy the time.. in Spanish... which was pretty exciting for me. Once we actually did make it into the park though it was worth it. The pools felt amazing and we had a fun bilingual chat with a stunning family from Mar del Plata. The husband looked like Antonio Banderas. I'm just sayin'. After we'd had our fun with the pools and laying out, we went to a restaurant in the village where we had the best epandadas in all of Argentina... in my opinion. I still think about those particular meat pockets. I also attempted blood sausage for the first time and loved it.
We took a taxi ride equally terrifying to the one before back to the hotel, picked up our bags, and moved into Hotel Lao in the city of Mendoza. It wasn't part of the plan, but Lao wound up being my home for nearly two weeks and this post is already more verbose than most people can tolerate on the Internet... so I'm going to end this post and pick back up on the rest of Mendoza another time.
"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." - Joseph Campbell
Anyways, today's plane roar inspired me to get back to the blog. Every time someone has come over to my house lately, they are bringing me a bottle of Malbec because they know it's from Mendoza. They either think I'm a Malbec expert now... or they want to make a gesture to connect with my recent travels to Mendoza. Either way, I'm flattered. I haven't really written about my time in Mendoza. Let me start by saying that I have tried to write this post multiple times and either technical difficulties or emotional difficulties stopped it from happening. Then, because I wanted posts to be chronological, I didn't write about the rest of my trip at all.
After a final night in Beunos Aires of tango lessons and the making of a lot of remarkable memories that I don't care to remark on on the public domain (but have dinner with me and I might tell you), Patti and I got on a north-westbound bus for Mendoza, Argentina. Our first time on a bus was quite the adventure. We really did no research, which I think added to the fun. For example, we attempted to prematurely evacuate the bus several times because we kept thinking we might be in Mendoza. Each time, the stewardess caught us with "No es Mendoza," and sent us back upstairs to our semi-cama seats. Semi-cama are the economy seats and something we learned on that trip was that if you're traveling for more than say... six hours... it's is worth it to spring for the Ejecutivo seats. The lesson from the multiple attempted "dismounts" was that these buses make multiple stops on their route to pick up and drop off other passengers. But, they don't really announce which stop they're at. Somehow people just know where they are. The best part of the bus was the amazing assortment of movies. I wish I could remember which ones but oh man... they either played good movies such as "Man on Fire," or the sorts of movies that are so bad they're funny. And they did it in a "bait and switch" fashion. I just asked Patti if she could remember the films from that particular bus ride and her response was "'Bad Teacher' and then some really sh!tty zombie movie." The best thing we viewed on that trip though were the Andes mountains as we got closer to Mendoza. Breathtaking.
Patti and I arrived in Mendoza on Good Friday with no reservations or plans anywhere. We were riding pretty high on that sense of adventure until we'd visited nearly every hostel in the city of Mendoza and they all informed us that they were booked because Easter weekend is one of the busiest for Mendoza vacations. Oopsie. One guy suggested a tent and we had to seriously consider it. Thanks to smart phones, we did find a boutique hotel about 30 minutes outside of the city of Mendoza (and right in the middle of several bodegas) in the pretty down of Chacras de Coria. Hotel SanFransisco was a bit of an unexpected splurge but still cheaper than what we would have paid for the same thing in the states and truthfully, it was relief to feel so "removed" after a week in the bustle of Beunos Aires.
After falling asleep by the pool for a few hours, we got ourselves together to explore the town, still exhausted from not enough sleep in the semi-cama seats and hauling our backpacks around the city for hours trying to find a place to live. The town was absolutely gorgeous. The homes were all beautiful and it seemed everyone had their own grapes growing and a pet German Shepard. Which reminds me... I stopped by the Animal Welfare League of Arlington recently to donate some toys and food, and it got me thinking how I don't think such a thing existing Argentina or many other countries because they let the dogs roam free or kill them if they're rabid. I don't know which one is a better system... just an observation. Anyways, Patti and I practically tripped over this little bodega called Pulmary as we were wandering and it turned out to be such a great find. The wine was all organic, the cheese and charcueterie board was scrumptious, and the staff was very laid back and un-pretentious... maybe even a little sketchy. Pol, who gave us the tour, was certainly a character. He had this unidentifiable accent... something to do with being U.S. born but his parents were both Danish and raised him part of his life in Spain... or something like that. When I asked if we could take a picture, he said it was OK as long as he wasn't in any because he didn't want to be found. We weren't sure if we should be nervous or excited, but we let the intrigue win over when he started pouring us "tastings" the size of full glasses of wine.
Following the bodega, we walked our sauced selves into the heart of town and wandered into an innocent looking shop serving tastings of all sorts of jams, tapanads, dulce de leche flavors... and liquors... including their homemade absinthe. We enjoyed all that they had to offer and then poured ourselves into a cab to go meet my friend Cliff for dinner in the city of Mendoza. When I'd announced on Facebook that I was in Argentina a week before, Cliff popped up and let me know that he was as well and we'd planned to meet up in Mendoza since we'd both be there Easter weekend. I feel pretty bad that we showed up as exhausted and inebriated as we were because I don't think it made us very exciting dinner companions. And we certainly didn't make it past dinner. It was fun though to see another familiar face from home and I remember the food was awesome. It's so funny that by coincidence, or universal/ divine intervention, Cliff's good friends from high school are now my roommates!
We spent the next day resting by the pool and wandering around a winery that we found out we weren't really supposed to be at.
The next morning, Patti and I took the scariest cab ride of our lives deeper into the mountains to spend the day at some thermal pools that looked nice in a brochure in the hotel lobby. Although the driver was a mad man on those switchback roads, he was a nice guy who could tell we loved the views and stopped a couple of time to let us out for pictures. A result of another one of those "lost in translation" mishaps, we arrived at Thermas Cacheuta an hour before it actually opened. Or anything in the teeny tiny town it was in. And it was chilly because we were at a higher elevation and the sun was still working it's way over the mountain peak. So... we walked around. We sat down. We did some yoga stretches. Walked around more. Got into a general store-type shop as it started to open and poked around. Pet some horses. Told a guy the time.. in Spanish... which was pretty exciting for me. Once we actually did make it into the park though it was worth it. The pools felt amazing and we had a fun bilingual chat with a stunning family from Mar del Plata. The husband looked like Antonio Banderas. I'm just sayin'. After we'd had our fun with the pools and laying out, we went to a restaurant in the village where we had the best epandadas in all of Argentina... in my opinion. I still think about those particular meat pockets. I also attempted blood sausage for the first time and loved it.
We took a taxi ride equally terrifying to the one before back to the hotel, picked up our bags, and moved into Hotel Lao in the city of Mendoza. It wasn't part of the plan, but Lao wound up being my home for nearly two weeks and this post is already more verbose than most people can tolerate on the Internet... so I'm going to end this post and pick back up on the rest of Mendoza another time.
"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." - Joseph Campbell
