On South American soil -the boring bits of travel adventures

Without going into the boring bits of a long flight lets just say I arrived safe, sound, hungry and tired at about 4:30pm the same day that I left NZ at 7pm.  My gorgeous niece, Athena dropped me off, check in and weigh in went without a hitch .  Not the quite the 15k I was hoping for but 17k aint bad.  Hand luggage was only 3k and handbag 2k, so AirNZ you got off lightly with me.

My first glimpse of my new home for the next week was a rather bland and out of date terminal heaving with life but devoid of ATMs that work and missing people manning half the desks.  Getting through passport control was the easiest ever, a very good system with about 40 windows open and cheerful approachable immigration officials.  The customs declaration given to me on the plane, and was challenging to complete was promptly discarded as they didn’t need it and I moved along to the most orderly baggage carousel I have ever seen.  All the bags were lined up next to each other, with just a few inches in between each bag. Wow.  My bag was one of the first off and I followed the green arrows to the scanner, dumped my bags on the belt and watched them being scanned.  I’m glad I was watching as no one else was.  Although there was someone sitting in the place you would expect them to be when checking the contents, the operator was busy chatting and eating lunch.  Glad I didn’t have anything I shouldn’t have in my bag.

Despite not finding an ATM or a SIM for my phone I managed to find a cab  that came with a rather young cocky driver. Admittedly he managed to drive, change gears, talk on mobile and weave in and out of lanes with great proficiency and despite my aggressive driving skills I wouldn’t have managed with the same degree of panache and calm that he did.

The drive to the hotel took us along the motorway, which at toll gates, was 20 lanes wide and quite impressive.  Just like our main roads!

Along the side of the motorway are wide green verges where many many people had stopped for picnics, play sport etc.  It reminded me of the Middle East where people have family outings on a Friday.  So nice to see and something we don’t see too much of at home.

The tall towering apartment buildings set amongst the parks closer to the airport were soon taken over by old concrete boxes that once may have been luxurious homes, but now looked like something akin to sad state housing estates.  As we got closer to the city the homes were larger and far more grand; the greenery and number of trees helping to make it look lush and beautiful.

At one stage along the road we passed about 8 buses all with guys hanging out the window waving their flags (sports team supporters maybe) but at the front of the entourage was a police escort so obviously an entourage of importance. A quick google search revealed that they are ‘Boca Juniors’ supporters, one of the five great football teams of Argentina.  Hopefully I will get to see them.

Despite the one arm (and at times no arms) driving he got me to the Argenta Hotel in the Retiro suburb.  It was dark by the time I arrived and the neighbourhood looked very residential with not a cafe in sight. Perhaps not one of my better choices. Daylight will tell.

 I’m tired, very hungry, so tonight, just once I am eating in the hotel restaurant.  I could have chosen from a steak (which I picked), “chikcen”, something “wiht” something or the “fishing day” which. I can only assume was fish of the day. Think I’ll stick to the Spanish menu from now on; it’s easier to understand. I didn’t have high expectations but my steak was almost ok and filled the gaping hole. Nine thirty pm and time for bed. Bring on tomorrow.