The lovely Senorita Lucia was even up and waiting to say goodbye when I left at 5:30am. Senor Patricio was waiting too. He loaded me in to his smelly jalopy and took me down the back road again. I figured that it goes around the side of the La Floresta suburb and then joins the motorway to go through the basin to the Airport. On the way he points out Mt Cotopaxi, towering above the other mountains and covered with snow. It was still very dull so I wasn’t able to get a pic but it was so majestic popping up out of the clouds. It wasn’t till I got to the airport that I really appreciated just how many mountains there were surrounding the only flat land in the region. No wonder it is so far out of Quito.
I was starving by the time I had checked in and as soon as I got through immigration I stopped at the ‘Outback Cafe’ for pancakes. I didn’t quite appreciate what I was ordering and there was no way I could finish it as good as it was:
I love people watching at airports and today was no different. Probably the sight of the day was of a woman using her large, overfilled duffle bag as a wheelie bag when it didn’t have wheels, just dragging it along the ground.
I guess no sleep on this leg. A young couple next to me constantly giggling and taking selfies, a baby behind, a toddler ahead and a toddler to the left. Bad choice of seat!
Fortunately everyone quietened down and apart from a few wobbles the flight to Panama City was uneventful. Once we landed though it was interesting to watch people that so far had been relaxing in their seat suddenly turned in to monsters that had to get off quickly at all costs. Not to worry that others are trying to alight in an orderly fashion, there’s always some that push their way down the aisle without giving a toss about the other poor sods still trying to get out of their seats. Makes me so angry.
It was a long day with a six hour layover in Panama City. The lounge ‘refreshments’ were no more ‘refreshing’ than they were last time and there’s only so much cheese, crackers and bananas you can eat, so the time went pretty slowly. Thankfully its a rather nice airport with lots of shops so a break from the lounge was welcomed. The temptation to buy a “Panama” hat was overcome when the thought of carrying it everywhere won out. Anyway they are not “Panama” hats. The real original ones originated in Ecuador and are woven from the fronds of one of the Amazonian Basin plants that we saw. Somehow they ended up in Panama thanks to some of the immigrant workers who had gone to Ecuador to earn money to send home. When they went back to Panama they loved the hats so much they took them with them. The Brits got sight of them they named them ‘Panama’ hats and so the name stuck.
Sitting in an airline lounge gives plenty of opportunity to take in the surroundings. Sometimes even if you try and block it out it is always there, in your face, making your ear drums tremble and increasing normally low blood pressure.
I can’t get over the people that think its ok to not only talk loud on the phone, but to also have it on speaker whilst walking round having a ‘personal’ financial conversation. Duh!
Oh! then there is the woman who talked to someone about her mothers butter dish and the merits of leaving butter out of the fridge!!!! It went on for at least 10 minutes. So important that it had to be discussed now! Right this minute! From the airline lounge!
And the kid screaming ‘get me out’ cos the little sod put himself into his little brothers stroller and then couldn’t get himself out.
Funnily enough all the loud ones spoke perfect English with a well recognised accent!!!!!
The flight is going to board and I make my way to the gate, no 18, at the end of the terminal together with gates 12-19. 5 flughts boarding at pretty much the same time. The few available seats ate occupied by shopping, belonging to the many women who presumably have come to the tax free haven for a bit of therapy. There is no room for passengers. They are all standing randomly in the open space wishing their flight would be called so they could move on from this crazy place.
To make it worse there is now a flight alighting through one of the gates so the comings and goings are getting mixed up and tensions are running high. Its hood to be able to stand back and watch. That aside it is still a nice airport.
At each place and each flight I have been on I’ve been perplexed as to how on earth the people making the announcements can speak English so quickly. I pick up more of the Spanish than I do English it’s so garbled.
I was too busy trying to get to grips with the announcement and I got on board and realised I didn’t have my backpack with meds, devices, jacket etc. They said I couldn’t go back, but after a bit of begging and a complimentary bubbles they let me go back to find it. The only thing that won them over was the fact that my bag had been loaded on and if they off loaded me until the next flight they would have had to unload my bag. So, with one of the staff I ran down the corridor and back to the gate. There sat a solitary bag and a solitary woman who had moved seats to sit next to it. Me thinks it would have been on her next flight with her, particularly when I noticed later that the back zip was open (and I never use that zip and it was the one closest to the lady) Whew, close call and now the adrenalin rush over we were on our way.
Wibbly wobbly young lass next to me hasn’t stayed still for more than three seconds and now posing for her selfies and hogging both sides of the arm rest. We sorted that pretty quick. Sorry love! She managed to annoy the staff too who had to wait for a ‘por favor’ or a ‘gracias’. Rude little snot. She eventually pushed her way right over my side and was promptly pushed off. At one stage the old lady in the widow seat was hugging the wall as Miss wibbly wobbly had taken over her seat too and had her head on the old ladies shoulder. I wrongly assumed they were together!!!
And now despite turbulence there is a freaking kid crawling down the aisle! oh I despair.
It was only a six hour flight but felt like forever. With a few bumps to start with a number of sick bags came out and the queue for the loo went down the aisles. Bit dramatic folks, its only a few wobbles but even the staff announced they wouldn’t serve hot drinks!! And they all clapped on landing. Gees they need to do a few trips to Wellington!!
This has been the weirdest flight from a people point of view. I have gone from enjoying my time with dark haired, dark skinned, happy and gracious people to being stuck on a plane with a bunch of fairer skinned, rude imitation blondes. The rudest passengers I have ever come across. Once we collected our bags I found that most of the ‘blondes’ were Argentinians who had done a massive group tour to Cuba, plus there was a large team of sports girls, and this ginormous clan of lookalike kids, all part of the Wibbly Wobbly clan and all as snotty looking.
Hola Cordoba
Getting to the hotel was an easy 10 minute drive but it ended up being quite a bit out of the city. I always book hotels well in advance and then go back and double check that its what I want and cancel if necessary but with this one somehow I didn’t. I booked an “eccentric double room”. It’s exactly what I got. Words dont tell the story:
The whole place is insane, but gorgeous and I suspect that this might be a place I spend some time lazing in. I woke this morning to no electricity but they still had coffee. The only natural light into my room is from a tiny courtyard so it is so dark I can’t find anything, but there’s a lovely outdoor space bathed in sun.
With nothing much to do I grabbed a cab to the old town, quite a distance away.
It was freezing so I did a bit of a wander then parked myself in a coffee shop for a toasted sandwich and a coffee. I was hungry and tolerated the toasted sandwich devoid of butter, almost cold and almost burned on one side and virtually uncooked on the other. It came with potato chips (as in chippies) on the side! They were yum. The coffee was better than it looked, but I left with a full tummy and no feeling of having enjoyed a meal.
The blondes (Recoleta ladies style) in the cafe provided some entertainment. Obviously very important ladies (well they thought so), clicking their fingers for service, and just sitting reading their mags or playing on phones for ages. Funny.
I’d had enough, the old town didn’t excite me. I think I’m over churches, old buildings and the like. The people didn’t interest me, in fact they annoyed me because most of them were pushing and shoving for no reason and they all looked grumpy.
So I wait and hop on a bus having checked the route and knowing that a number 10 goes my way. A cop gets in (off duty I assumed but still in uniform) with her hand gun in it’s holster un secured and so easy for someone to grab. I guess they don’t think about it??
The bus ride was great with super bus lanes letting the bus zoom along. The scenery didn’t seem familiar so Me Google came in handy and showed me I was going the wrong direction, right bus number but going the wrong way, south east instead of north west. Oh dear!
I hopped off, crossed the road, boarded the next one coming along and then tried to swipe my way on with the Buenos Aires swipe card. Duh! It was a nice warmish way to spend the avo. and I got some glimpses of Cordoba. I can’t say it turned me on at all.
I hopped off before I hit home and went for a wander and found I was staying in a delightful suburb full of restaurants, some nice shops, no tourists to speak of - just what I need and where I should have spent the day. To celebrate the revelation I popped in for an espresso duble right over the road from the hotel, next to the deli (where the guy was slicing meat Italian style - thin, thin and carefully laid out slice by slice on a wee tray - ok it’s not a recyclable tray but nevertheless - heaven!). Here was a cafe that is also a bakery that sells crusty bread! I think I might have found tomorrow’s lunch spot.
My coffee wasn’t what I expected, more like an Americano, but was a good one at that. It seems the term ‘espresso duble’ varies from place to place. I get the ‘duble’ to get it string enough (not like Wellington/Melbourne where a double strength is pretty much standard), but some places just give you a double sized single strength espresso instead. This is somewhere between the two with a good dollop of extra water to dilute it. At least it’s hot and the coffee is fresh.
I return to the hotel, where the power is back on, music is playing, a bunch of girls are upstairs giggling and I stretched out in the library and relaxed. The outside pool area is very inviting but is bl**dy freezing so just looking at it is next best.
The bar next door opens out onto the pool area so it must be super in summer, but my god it must be noisy. They didn’t turn music off till 1:30am last night so I am glad it is winter and the noise is a bit contained.
Dinner was one of the yummiest meals I’ve had in Argentina and right over the road from the hotel. Milanese with melted cheese and grilled onions with fries. Damn good and too much for me to finish. Not like me to say that, but food hasn’t really been an enjoyable part of my trip so I’m eating less than my normal mega meals.
Dinner done and I returned home, tennis was on in the bar and as I sat down to watch the pile of giggly girls were packing their things and vacating with their wine and their mates back to their room opposite mine. Oh well!
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