(A name or so may have been changed for privacy)
Go to church, need some spiritual guidance. An old lady sitting in the pew in front of me asks for my name, prays for me, and gives me a little prayer card. It still sits in my wallet 3 months later.
Say a final goodbye to a special girl I will miss.
Feeling shit leaving, stuff my face like Homer.
Night train to Cordoba. Makes a nice change from the bus, though the ride was quite bumpy. Eat & chill in restaurant car before crashing into a real bed! Splashed out on a cabin :-)
6/7 Wake up at 3am, piss in the room sink, back to bed. Wake up at 9am, head to the now packed restaurant car. Join some Cordobese students who make me a comprehensive list of interesting places to visit in the area (Capilla del Monte, La Cumbre, La Falda, San Marcos Sierra, Villa General Belgrano, La Cumbrecita, Villa Alpina, Los Gigantes - Cerro de la Cruz, Cabalango - Tanti). Well interesting to know for next time, as I only made it to one of Che's old homes.
Arrive Cordoba. Scour my dusty cyber-records for any contacts I may have here. Three come up.
1. Some hottie totty met on the beaches of Brazil, but she has de-friended me on Facebook, clearly a cleanup since her profile now shows two heads.
2. A chap I met down in Patagonia. No answer though, even to my request if he can host 11 dutch girls to watch the football. Clearly married or gay.
3. Gise, a lovely girl met on the beaches of brazil. I had no recollection, but luckily my friends have better memories, and are better at staying in touch.
In the evening arrange to meet the dutch team at a concert in town. It's packed, a massive event something to do with independence, but still meeting a 6-foot blonds in a such a crowd is pretty easy.
7/7 Do something cultural. Visit one of Che's old homes.. what a normal looking family.
Afternoon invite the 11 dutch girls to come and watch the football at my hostel, half turn up but thats still plent to help prepare some lovely fresh pizza. Bernie in the background is keeping a watchful eye.
Early evening there's some live music in the hostel, which I quite enjoy. A mixture of styles and languages. Some of it's quite romantic, the candles are out, and I get a little cuddly with one of the dutch on the couch. But the team have to leave later so the romance is short-lived.
Later in the evening head out to meet Gise, and Michelle, a friend of a friend who happens to be in Cordoba, as you do.
Michelle is a strong-willed girl, like our friend in common, Jez. If i ever make it to New York i'll call her up and can imagine it would be a blast.
Almost as an afterthought, Gise gives me the phone number of her cousin in Tucuman, who proves to be a wonderful guide.
8/7 Recovery. Day chilling out on the hostel roof terrace, admiring the murals, making silly faces, and popping out occasionally to check out the local scenery.
Join the hostel BBQ on the roof in the evening. Yum. Then crash out contented onto the midnight bus to Tucuman.
9/7 Independence Day Argentina, which was declared in Tucuman on this day about 200 years ago. So I've come to the right place on the right day. Except I have no-where to stay, so leave my luggage in the bus terminal on a 24 hour ticket.
It's early morning and apart from an uplifting military parade, celebrations don't really get going till the afternoon, so I kill the morning by having breakfast twice and looking for somewhere to stay.
All the hostels and hotels are full, and the love-hotels only take couples (mental note for later). I even try to strike a deal in a brothel, but they close at 9pm, and anyway are closed today for Independence Day. However an off-duty lady of the morning/afternoon lets me in for tea, a chat, and use of the house bathroom.
Off-duty knickers
And off to the local park for a siesta and some lunch. Another day full of pressing tasks.
In the afternoon president Cristina Kirchner pops by to make a speech. The argies aren't very enthusiastic, I think their presence is reserved for the parade that follows..
Later, armed with a phone number from heaven, cousin Sophia comes to meet me with some of her friends, so I put on my best behaviour for dinner, trying to hold it together after a whole night on a bus and no shower. We all pop by to her place for several cups of coffee, and then out to a rock concert by Charly García, Argentinia's Mick Jagger allegedly. Sophia is cute, but so is one of her friends, and in between a bit of concert jiggering I'm trying to gauge my best chance for accommodation tonight. I'm not detecting any clear signals either way so I stay on the fence for a while longer.
There's a lack of alcohol going on, so this is fixed later as we all retire to a bar. It's cold and on the way I try a little ambiguous hugging with Sophia, which seems to go down quite well. I follow-up in the bar with some under-the-table hand-holding, but I've still no sense of where this might go. It's a bit of a waiting game until everyone starts heading home and Sophia expresses disappointment that her mother is staying over at her place, so much for Independence Day. But Argentina, like any latin country has a great solution to such problems.. the ♥ motel :-D
10/7 Sleep. A hostel now has vacancy. Out later for a spot of clubbing. A crowd of ladies hover outside trying to get into a disco. The bouncer lets me straight in. I wish it was this easy in London.
11/7 World-cup final. Celebrate Spain's victory with Sophie, now that mama has felt.. :-)
12/7 Meet a couple of English brothers in the hostel who have booked a hire-car for the next day. They invite me along which I accept and so the next day I join them on a mad dash through the wine regions of Cafayate and Cachi ending up in Salta...
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