Roaming Argentina

There is a well known travel writer who does not get tired of throwing dirt over all types of travel except for trains. He made a whole career upon a book describing a train trip across Asia. Later he wrote another one describing such a trip from the USA to South America. In that trip, he watched a soccer game in Central America and interviewed a famous writer in Argentina. In his last books, he seems to be obsessed on winning the Literature Nobel Prize. Yet, no real traveler would fail to realize that trains reach few locations. Most towns and cities in the world are not connected to the railway; traveling in such a fashion means leaving out of the trip most of the terrain.

Judging from his wild criticism on online travel writers in his last book – which was coldly received by the press and professional travelers as one – he probably would not read this entry and that’s a pity. The fact is that the only mass transport connecting every sizeable town in the planet – Kathmandu with Paris, Johannesburg with Bangkok – is the bus. I have no objections to his obsession with trains, but his criticism of buses is unjustified, unrealistic and somehow a cheap type of elitism. Traveling from Kathmandu to Pokhara by train is not possible. Try reaching La Quiaca from Mendoza by train. I’ll wait for the report, meanwhile I took the bus.

The very idea was exciting. A bus from the heart of the Cuyo region to the very edge of the Argentinean Andean High Plateau, was that possible? Argentinean buses are of good quality and rather expensive, would they bother with such an irrelevant line? That was an idea to enjoy. Instead to search for an answer at the bus terminal, I stopped for a coffee at Bonafide and began planning how to do that with various buses if I wouldn’t find one. Such a trip would begin in the province of Mendoza and then cross San Juan, La Rioja, Catamarca, Salta and then reach Jujuy.

After the coffee I reached the terminal and found a bus to La Quiaca was about to leave. The only difference with my planned itinerary was a stop at Tucuman, which I took as a bonus.

"It doesn’t include food," the clerk told me. "It is slow," he tried hard to convince me to abandon the idea. I gave the cash, smiled, and waited for my ticket.

Despite what he said, we got sandwiches at San Juan and otherwise every few hours got meal stops. Despite the seats being marked, I picked a comfortable one by a window in the rear of the bus. The other passengers’ chit chat and trashy movies shown on a bad quality screen didn’t interest me. Since the bus was never full, nobody objected to my move.

The stops in the cities were short, but it was an excellent way of making an early survey of the area and plan future trips. A black hole in my mental map of Argentina became an orderly region with names, cities, typical snacks and pictures.

Mendoza and San Juan

The Mendoza province is in the Cuyo region, which was transferred from Chile to Argentina, when the Rio de la Plata Viceroyalty was created. The Andes Mountains provide there the main attraction, especially since the Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the Americas is here. But there is more than a big city and a high mountain, the countryside is sprinkled with vineyards – this region is a main producer of wine – which provide green views which are quite rare on the Andes vicinity.

San Juan is the province just north of Mendoza and is also part of the Cuyo. If it wasn’t for the signs, distinguishing between them would not be possible, except when reaching the capital city of the same name. The city looks much newer than Mendoza and features a modern cathedral inaugurated in 1979. This is the sad result of the 1944 earthquake that destroyed much of the city.

La Rioja

La Rioja was the biggest surprise of this trip. Technically it belongs neither to the Cuyo nor to the Andean Plateau provinces of the far northwest, but usually it is grouped with the Cuyo provinces. Thus I was expecting more vineyards with distant mountains as a background. Instead I found reddish flat mesas covering the whole area. Next to the capital city of the same name, these become spectacular; no camera can faithfully translate the natural beauty of the area. I promise to visit again and to dedicate a journal to it.

Catamarca

The name of Catamarca is probably Quechua, meaning "Fortress on the Slopes," and announces the entrance of the traveler into the Andean highlands. This is the most undeveloped of the Argentinean provinces and provides mainly views of altitude desert. The capital city – again named as the province – is a tiny town of little interest. As La Rioja, Catamarca features a substantial population that migrated several generations ago from Syria and Lebanon.

Tucuman and Salta

Both Salta and Tucuman are well developed provinces, I dedicated them journals in the past. Tucuman is known as the "Republic’s Garden" while Salta is usually nicknamed "Salta the Beautiful." Both are well worth detailed visits.

Jujuy

At the very edge of Argentina, Jujuy is a wonderful province to visit. First for its natural wonders; even a rather unplanned bus trip through it would take the traveler through the Quebrada de Huamahuaca, where circular, repetitive rock formations create magical sights. Towns like Tilcara take the visitor back a couple of centuries, to colonial times, while towns like Jujuy and La Quiaca seem to belong more to La Paz than to Argentina. The food and the language are influenced by both cultures, and Quechua and Aymara can be heard.

Where is the Train?

After a while, I reached La Quiaca with the old bus so despised by others. At the very center of the town is an unused railway station connecting it with nowhere.

Next day I took a bus to Tupiza.

The way from La Quiaca to Buenos Aires covers a very varied range of human and nature landscapes, allowing getting a quick and reliable insight of Argentina. If not renting a car, the best way of doing that overland is by using the extensive network of Argentinean buses; these allow choosing almost any imaginable path connecting these two opposite edges of the Argentinean reality.

The Vector

Sometimes direction is everything in travel. What can be enjoyed while looking at its eastern side may be dull on its western one. More relevant than compass directions in South America is the altitude; the last defines quite well the culture of a given place. Lowlanders are usually agricultural societies of hybrid European cultures, while highlanders have retained much of the original cultures of the land. Beyond that, altitude poses an acclimatization problem, thus this trip is more enjoyable downwards, from La Quiaca to Buenos Aires.

Options on the Path

After choosing the direction, the next step is selecting the path and stops along the way. The difficult part of this stage lies on its northern side, since many attractions compete for the travelers’ attention. Due to the international traffic, the La Quiaca bus terminal is bigger than expected and offers several options. The main options are a direct trip or one with stops at Jujuy, Salta or Tucuman. If having time stopping at the three of them with an additional stop at Tilcara is recommended.

The transport along all this locations is simple. La Quiaca is connected directly with all the locations mentioned here. Salta, Jujuy and Tucuman are extraordinarily well connected among them and each offers direct buses to Buenos Aires as well. Argentinean buses are modern, spacious and comfortable, despite being a bit expensive. Most of them offer coffee all along the trip and dubbed movies that can be happily ignored; some of them include basic trays of food during long trips. Unless attempting to reach a place to a main destination or at a busy time, finding free places is no problem, booking a bus in advance is not necessary.

Jujuy

The province of Jujuy offers an extraordinary array of attractions to the traveler, at the very edge of Argentina; it is a wonderful place to visit. First for its natural wonders; even a rather unplanned bus trip through it would take the traveler through the Quebrada de Huamahuaca, where circular, repetitive rock formations create magical sights. Towns like Tilcara take the visitor back a couple of centuries, to colonial times, while towns like Jujuy and La Quiaca seem to belong more to La Paz than to Argentina. The food and the language are influenced by both cultures, and Quechua and Aymara can be heard.


Salta

Resembling other colonial Argentinean towns, Salta was built in a perfect rectangular grid of streets surrounding a central plaza; that plaza was bounded by the town's main buildings and churches. Nearby is the beautiful Cerro San Bernardo, a green hill that dominates the city landscape while providing very enjoyable green spaces.

In the late afternoon, after the local siesta ends, the central 9 de Julio Plaza becomes a lively place where the denizens gather to socialize and to breathe some fresh air; there is no better place to meet people while watching the city main attractions.

Two parallel walking streets begin at the southwestern corner of the plaza: Peatonal Alberdi and La Florida. This is where the main commercial activity of the town takes place: ambulant sellers, fast food stalls, jugglers and shoppers compete for the same limited space.

Beyond the beautiful classical colonial plaza and the typical walking streets of Argentinean towns, the traveler should pay attention to three big and beautiful churches placed around the plaza: the Cathedral is at its northern side, while the Basilica and the impressive red structure of the Franciscan Church are placed in opposite sides along a diagonal line, one block away from the plaza each. The Franciscan Church has the tallest belfry in the Americas.

Tucuman

Few cities in Argentina have an historical importance comparable to that of Tucuman. Since its peak days during the early 19th century the city has been constantly declining in prominence; yet, with half a million denizens, it is the biggest city in Northern Argentina. Moreover, the fertile plains surrounding it provide few touristy attractions. These have transformed Tucuman into a paradise for the tourist attempting to avoid crowds fighting for the best photograph’s angle while nearby they can purchase it as a postcard.

Downtown Tucuman is tidily arranged around the Plaza Independencia, the central plaza. This was the site of the city foundation in 1685, after being translated here from Ibatin; accordingly the plaza displays a colonial setup.

At its very center is the marble "Estatua de la Libertad" (Liberty Statue), sculpted by the local artist Lola Mora in classical Greek style in 1904. The plaza is surrounded by two wide sidewalks; interestingly, the bricks used for them until the 1970’s were brought from Europe by Argentinean ships as dead weight, after those left local products there.

The main buildings surrounding the plaza include much of Tucuman’s main attractions: the Cathedral, the Government House, the Iglesia y Convento San Francisco, the Jockey Club Tucuman, the Plaza Hotel, the Casa Padilla (the Provincial Museum) and the Federacion Económica de Tucuman; the last two are placed within old residential houses.

How to choose?

If traveling without time limitations, the best would be to take it easy. Stopping in Tilcara, in the way from La Quiaca to Jujuy, would allow seeing this charming colonial town and the Quebrada de Humahuaca. Then, Jujuy would be the next stop, it is worth exploring its colonial alleys at least for a day. From there, reaching Salta is a breeze. After a couple of days (or weeks) there, Tucuman would be the natural stop before reaching Buenos Aires.

If the trip time is limited, then enjoying all the attractions along this trip would be difficult. In order to maximize the experience, the recommended path would be a bus from La Quiaca to Salta, a stay of at least a day there and then a short stop in Tucuman, since its center can be explored in a couple of hours. Due to its importance as a travel hub, buses from Tucuman to Argentina can be found at all times of day and night.

Traveling around creates golden opportunities for getting a thorough introduction to local cuisine; it will take some time until Starbucks opens a branch in Jinghong. This entry is dedicated to the most popular snacks and dishes in Argentina.

Empanadas

"Empanada" means "within bread" in Spanish and refers not to a sandwich, but to a turnover that is cooked in an oven or fried in oil.

Despite the reluctance of Argentineans to use chili in food – fact that introduces a barrier to the variety and richness of the dish – few cities in the continent offer the variety in taste and shape of the "empanada porteña," the empanada prepared in Buenos Aires.

Moreover, the vast majority of the empanadas consumed there are prepared in the oven, creating thus an additional limitation, though this one is of the healthy type.

Here are listed the most common varieties:

Con Carne: containing minced meat and little else, these empanadas tend to be quite dry and hollow; some places serve a variation made with chunks of meat.

Con Pollo: these are filled with chicken and sometimes feature veggies as a bonus. Like the meat empanadas, the chicken ones often have a semi-circular shape.

Con Jamon y Queso: filled with ham and cheese, these empanadas are among the most popular ones. Several varieties of cheese can be found, including Roquefort. More often than not, they have a circular shape.

Con Cebolla y Queso: filled with onions and cheese, these empanadas are very popular and especially tasty. While ordering, use the Argentinean pronunciation of onion: "se-BOH-shah."

Con Albahaca, Tomate y Mozzarella: resembling a small Italian calzone filled with basil, tomato and an imitation of mozzarella cheese, this empanada tastes more than any other one like a pizza.

Salteñas and Tucumanas: following the northwestern fashion I have described in my Cochabamba journal, these empanadas are typical of northwestern Argentina and wherever people from there had resettled.

Medialunas

Most probably, croissants were prepared for the first time in Vienna in 1683 to celebrate the defeat of the Turkish siege of the city; they literally ate the half-moon symbol of their imperialist foe. Croissants are patiently made of a leavened puff pastry by layering yeast dough with butter and rolling and folding; if properly prepared, the result is very light and of airy qualities and highly appropriate for a celebration of freedom.

However, the parallel pastry in Argentina – by far the most common one and almost an integral part of any cup of coffee served in the country – is a different and heavy affair. The smallish creations appear in two varieties; one made of margarine and the other of a type of animal fat, and are rather heavy. Two or three of them (depending on their size, in terms of weight the serving is always similar) are offered with a coffee in most coffee shops. Usually a sign would read "café con leche – 3ml," the last part is the short form of "3 medialunas." Such a coffee would be served with three croissants.

Alfajores

Spain had been under the Arab rule for a long time; expectedly, that influenced the Spanish language. The peculiar Spanish (and Dutch, due to later events) "j" is not an Indo-European sound, it was introduced from Arabic. Moreover, most Spanish words beginning with "al" have an Arabic origin; "al" is the Arabic article.

This is the case with "alfajor," which was derived from an Arabic word meaning "stuffed." It refers to a sweet pastry that was introduced to the Spanish cuisine and through it to Latin America. Nowadays it is very popular in Argentina and other countries in the region.

The snack is prepared with two round sweet biscuits joined together with "dulce de leche" (literally milk-sweet, a paste prepared by boiling cow milk with sugar) and covered with powdered sugar or chocolate. Seeing such an alfajor is not a reason to change plans; they are ubiquitous. A thing to pay attention while traveling around the country is that every region has its own variation of the snack, those can be purchased in souvenir boxes in all travel terminals.

Asado and Parrillada

"Do you know why ‘asado’ is so pupular here?" I often ask Argentineans.

"Because it is so tasty," summarizes most answers.

"It may be tasty (personally I don’t think so, it is very greasy), but that’s not the reason," I counter only to find a suspicious look as an answer. "What is this gringo talking about?" they seem to think.

"You are one of the biggest exporters of beef in the world, and also one of the most remote ones," I tell them.

"So?"

"Sending bones across the globe makes no sense, thus the cows ribcages are left in Argentina, cut into strips and grilled into what you call asado."

The last taxi driver that heard this comment almost dropped me in the middle of the trip.

"It is the other way around, we like the asado bones and send all the trash to the gringos," some of them say, offended by the truth. At this point I tend to stop the discussion. The facts are clear. Asado stripes are also part of the parrillada, the ubiquitously served Argentinean grill that includes also various beef steak cuts and at least two types of sausages: chorizo (similar to most grilled sausages served elsewhere) and morcilla (a blood sausage digestible only by locals).

Bon Appetite!

Cordoba’s image transformation in my mind from an unknown to a riddle took years. I knew that together with Rosario it was considered to be the on the second line of importance amidst Argentinean cities after Buenos Aires. Both had over a million denizens and while Rosario was an industrial center, Cordoba was known for its universities. When I began traveling around South America, I took a look at Argentina’s map and noticed Cordoba was roughly at its center.

"It’s a travel hub, I’ll reach it in any case," I summarized it to myself and stopped making plans for a visit.

I visited in Buenos Aires, the Paraguayan and Uruguayan borders, visited the far northwest, Rosario and Mendoza (the fourth largest city) and yet did not manage to stop in Cordoba. Despite Cordoba’s location, all the routes connecting points in northern and central Argentina seemed to avoid it. Always searching for such intriguing places, at the end of my third visit to Rosario, I decided to bypass my planned trajectory and took a night bus to Cordoba.

4 AM, Cordoba

The conductor actually touched my shoulder and waked me up.

"We are in Cordoba now," he was saying to me.

Worried about the hour – I had expected to arrive at least one hour later – I left the bus and entered the terminal.

Luckily, a coffee shop was open just in front of the door I had used.

"Un cortado," (a macchiato) I said to the waiter and began planning a strategy for the half day I planned spending in town.

Soon afterwards I toured the big terminal and managed finding a city map, and a slightly out of place (and still closed) supermarket. Now it was time of finding a nice place for a sunrise.

Somewhat Later, a Church

Outside the terminal, the few people walking the streets seemed all aiming for the zoo. Without thinking twice, I took the opposite direction. I have learned from the map that downtown Cordoba was small, roughly a twenty blocks square, thus getting lost was not an option. Under such circumstances, I let serendipity to play a substantial role in my tour.

A few minutes and several cops afterwards, I saw a gas station, behind it was the silhouette of a beautiful church. Hints of orange rimmed the nearest clouds and I decided to wait here for the sunrise. An old man was selling milk coffee from an improvised stall on his bike. I bought one and waited patiently.

Soon the church appeared in its natural gray and rose colors and I took a few pictures. It was a good beginning.

The Main Avenues

I was on the edge of downtown Cordoba, entering its heart was the inevitable next step. As most South American cities founded during Colonial times, Cordoba features an almost perfect rectangular grid of streets at its center, which makes navigating through it an easy task. A couple of blocks inside this part of the town, I met the first wide avenue. The streets were well marked and finding my location on the map was a breeze.

The dim light gave attractive colors of the surroundings. The medium size residential buildings delimiting the avenue gave a brick-red reflection that complemented well the green of the trees. The yellow lamps completed the Bolivian flag.

"Wake up, this is Argentina," I said to myself while entering a market.

Mercado Sud

The low bricks structure seemed out of place. The city I have seen until now was quite modern, and yet, here I was watching at what seemed to be the bricks version of a traditional market. People were standing around it among several minibuses; this point was a travel hub to nearby locations.

Don’t knowing what to expect, I entered the market. A fish stall was arranging its merchandise. "Fresh water fish," I thought, Cordoba being seven hundred kilometers away from Buenos Aires. After confirming that with the vendor, I looked around. There couldn’t be more than fifteen stalls in the small structure. I couldn’t guess what they sold, since the others ones were closed with the exception of a rather basic coffee shop. Leaving it, I made a short walk to Plaza San Martin.

Plaza San Martin

This plaza is the historical center of Cordoba. The town was founded in 1573, with the name of Cordoba de la Nueva Andalucia, honoring the Spanish Cordoba, where the founder’s wife originated from.

The most impressive building in the square is the Jesuit Cathedral, whose altar is made of stone and silver from Potosi, again, Bolivia was playing tricks with me. Back in the 18th century, Potosi was the biggest city in the Americas and the main center of silver extraction and coining. Behind the cathedral was the Monasterio de Santa Catalina and across a wonderful alley I saw the Cabildo, built in the 17th century. In the past it was the colonial government house, but now it houses exchanging exhibitions and serves also as a center of touristic information.

In 1599, the Jesuits established themselves on a whole block in the magnificent Iglesia de la Compañia de Jesus. The Jesuit Block was declared UNESCO World Heritage Site. In 1613, the Jesuits founded the University of Cordoba, the first in Argentina, which is still one of the most important in the country. The block includes the Montserrat School, the original University of Cordoba building (today the historical museum of the Universidad Nacional de Córdoba) and the church of the Society of Jesus.

By now, most of the morning belonged to the past, and I needed to leave for other places. However, I had finally set a foot in the until now quite evasive Cordoba.

Returning to a more detailed visit is only a question of time.

My arrival at Colon was almost an almost random event. The most convenient cross point from Rosario to Uruguay for me was the bridge from Gualeguaychu. However, as of January 2009 it is closed.

"Why?" I asked refusing to believe what I had been already told several times.

"El papel, el papel," an annoyed clerk in Rosario answered without elaborating.

The "papel" was the code name to three massive paper mills placed in Uruguay, across the Uruguay River from the Argentinean province of Entre Rios. They pollute the living quarters of over twenty million people, most of them in Buenos Aires, Argentina. In protest, the Argentineans have closed the Gualeguaychu Bridge. This last place is famous also for its carnival, the largest in Argentina.

Thus, I left Rosario for Colon. After crossing the bridge across the Parana River, I began taking pictures excitedly. Yet, soon one part of the swamp resembled the other. Bridges were repetitive. Most of the road was elevated above the surrounding lowlands. What seemed to be low hills from far away turned out being grazing cows from nearby. The villages were impossible to differentiate. Soon I was bored and waited for reaching Colon and maybe to cross the bridge to Paysandu during the same night.

I reached Colon just after midnight only to find that crossing was not possible anymore. In an attempt to skip my duties as a travel reporter, I tried to find a hotel. Finding them was easy; however, all of them were full. After five or six rejections, my reporting side woke up despite the late hour and I began asking prices. "Why are you full?" I asked sleepy clerks. They were annoyed, but I was happy; arriving at odd hours provides golden opportunities for assessing a new place.

The hotel prices were the first hint. Rooms of a similar quality were three or four times more expensive than in Buenos Aires, a city that cannot be defined as cheap.

"If the demand is so high, why don’t you open more hotels?" I asked the taxi driver that was driving me among the establishments. He laughed at me and told me every private house with spare rooms was renting them. Yet, everything was full. He called all his family and friends. Then, he called the family and friends of fellow drivers. Full, full, full.

After a couple of hours, two taxis and a fare high enough for renting a room in a good hotel, I gave up. Tiny Colon was a major river beach resort. People from Corrientes, Entre Rios and Buenos Aires consider it as a favorite sweet water beach and a major cross point to Uruguay, a country widely considered being Buenos Aires private beach.

"You are an IgoUgo writer, you can get at least a four pencils worth entry for this story," I reminded myself as the taxi driver left me at the bus terminal well after 3 AM. "You can sleep out here, it is completely safe," was his way of saying goodbye.

"You can cross to Uruguay with the 12:15 PM bus," a clerk at the terminal told me and went back to sleep. Later, I found that the bus cost 8 ARP (less than three dollars) and led to Paysandu’s bus terminal, after crossing a long bridge and stopping for the immigration’s process. The documents were collected at the beginning of the trip and returned after they were stamped. A police with a dog boarded the bus and let it sniff around.

But now, I had roughly nine hours to kill. A few tourists occupied the best benches in the small terminal; they were waiting for late connections to Santa Fe or Rosario. The coffee shop at its side was open and provided me with good coffee several times during the next hours, but it could not tempt me to stay in the terminal. The movie shown on its television set made no sense (was it a Mexican version of Alien?) and it was till very hot and humid. Most people in the area were trying to sleep, but I was energized by the strange surroundings. A sunrise by the river, and a walk around the town’s main attractions made sense.

However, guessing the dawn time was difficult. Eastern Argentina and Uruguay use an unusual time zone; sunset is well after 9 PM during the summer. That’s why most locals eat dinner – at least when they do that outside – after 10 PM. I picked up a map of the town from the terminal and decided to stay nearby the river, so that I’ll catch the sunrise and probably an editor’s pick picture.

The map showed the town was small. I began by visiting the main plaza, which turned out being a set of two plazas with a cathedral next to one of them. A souvenirs’ market still operated at that hour. "When do you close?" I asked. "When the last customer leaves" was the answer. I couldn’t see any customers, but then I realized that they probably considered me a potential one. Don’t wanting to ruin their sleep, I left immediately.

Nearby was the only gas station in town. I entered for a coffee there that turned out to be surprisingly good. A television set updated me with the last news, but more important, next to my table was an electricity outlet. I used it for charging my camera’s battery, which was tired after a long day in Rosario. Luckily, I had one of the special adaptors needed in Argentina, a country which probably uses a unique shape (two round legs or two slanted flat ones).

Walking the town was easy. The paved area occupied only a few blocks around the central plazas, beyond that packed dirt roads connected it with the riverside. The Uruguay River here was wide, blue and without islands, making a sharp contrast with the nearby Parana River. Several beaches occupy its shore next to Colon, though an organized promenade does not exist. I couldn’t see restaurants or hotels on the riverside, giving it an unkept and somewhat wild look. Probably that’s what transforms Colon into such prized location: other beach resorts near Buenos Aires (like Punta del Este or Mar del Plata) are overdeveloped. Soon, the sun appeared with a glorious crown of oranges and red and provided one of the peak sights in this trip.