Day 107: On the Road to Salta

I spent the first half of the day relaxing at the hostel's pool (there really is nothing else to do in San Ignacio), and the second half in the bus to Salta.

Being on the road, I thought it would be a good opportunity to blog about something related to roads: street names in Argentina.

In Argentina, every city pretty much has the same set of street names, just arranged differently. The same goes for Chile, by the way, only that their set of names is partly different from the Argentine set.

Many of the street names relate to the country's history. For example, there's always either a street or a plaza called Independencia. The second most popular street name seems to be that of general San Martín, also called the liberator. Other people from the military (and presidents, which was sometimes the same) make up quite a number of street names. Just a few examples: Belgrano, Urquiza, Sarmiento, Rivadavia, Bulnes, Hipólito Yrigoyen, Guëmes, etc.

Cristóbal Colón, the discoverer of America, can also be found in every town.

Another source related to history are dates, such as 9 de julio, 25 de mayo, or 20 de febrero.

Cities and countries, mostly South American ones, also make up street names: Buenos Aires, Salta, Santa Fe, Corrientes, Paraná, Montevideo, Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Venezuela, etc.

At first, this somewhat fixed set of street names struck me as a little unimaginative. But then I got to thinking: is it really all that different in Germany? We also have streets referencing political figures, important dates and local geography.

Still, there are some differences: Germany has a lot of streets named for artists, scientists, animals, and plants - these seem to be underrepresented in Argentina. The reason for this may be that streets in Argentina are typically very long: due to the rectangular city layout, there are streets that span the entire length of a city. This means that there are fewer street names required compared to the highly irregular German city layouts. Another reason might be that
Argentina's comparatively short history hasn't produced that many important heroes (in whatever area) yet.

It also seems to me that street naming in Germany is a little more localized. Towns honor their local politicians, artists and scientists, rather than only referencing people of countrywide importance.

Day 106: Stuck in San Ignacio

My plan was to leave for Salta today. Unfortunately, I had bought a five-trip bus pass to save a bit of money, and therefore had to depend on the company to issue my bus ticket and mail it to me. To be on the safe side, I had requested the ticket three days ago. An exchange of mails ensued in which they first proposed a schedule for the wrong city, then provided me with wrong information about possible connections, then failed to see their mistake - all the while being completely unreachable by phone. In the end, I just tried to get them to issue any ticket at all. Fifteen minutes before they closed, they confirmed that they would issue my ticket now. So I waited... and waited... until, an hour later at 9 pm, I finally asked the hostel if I could stay another night.

The next morning, I finally succeeded in calling them. Turns out there was a big storm in Buenos Aires in the evening, and they had no electricity and thus couldn't issue any tickets. On the phone everything was resolved quickly, and by now, I am on the bus, albeit one day later than I wanted.

But still, the episode got me thinking. Their terms and conditions say that under no circumstances am I entitled to any kind of reimbursement, and in addition I can't give back my pass. So basically they made me lose a day, pay for food and accommodation, and still expect me to be a happy customer.

Honestly, with companies taking our time and money like this, why on earth do we worry about opportunity theft on the street?

In the afternoon, I visited the house-turned-museum of writer Horacio Quiroga who spent a part of his life in San Ignacio. Quiroga really had a tragic life: as a baby, he witnessed his father's accidental suicide, then lost two brothers to typhoid fever, his first wife to suicide, and finally his second wide left him. I forgot if his death was tragic too, but given the rest of his life, it wouldn't surprise me. The museum is hidden in the forest a little outside of San Ignacio and has a very soft and tranquil atmosphere. It starts with a winding path through a bamboo forest where signs tell Quiroga's life story.



At the end of the path, you find his first house and a replica of his second, along with a number of items he owned.



The museum also had a board showing the ten rules he had for writing. I found the ninth one particularly fitting. It goes something like this: "Don't write under the influence of emotion. Let it die first and evoke it again later. If you are then capable of reliving it as it was, you have at halfway arrived at art."



I'm thinking I should read something he wrote one day :-)

Day 105: San Ignacio

The reason for my visit to San Ignacio were the world heritage Jesuit ruins located here. In the 17th century, jesuits built a number of villages in South America trying to convert the native population to catholicism. They did so by using art as a means to transport their religious beliefs. Although I believe evangelization to be despicable, their approach wasn't all bad: they learned the local language, Guaraní, they taught the natives to read and write, and protected them from the slave labor that spaniards typically submitted the natives to.

Eventually, the jesuits were forced to leave America because Spain perceived them as too powerful. The villages were abandoned and later destroyed in various wars. So today, all that remains are ruins.



I arrived in the late afternoon when all the big tour groups had already left. There weren't many other people around, just many of the ruins' current inhabitants: lizards in all colors and sizes :-)



These are the remains of the large church in the village:



And, as a contrast, this is how it supposedly looked like back in the day:



Finally, here are some more details of the ornaments to be found in the ruins. The architectural style found in these villages is termed Guaraní Baroque, due to the influence of the native artwork.



I guess the contrast to the raw power of the Iguazú falls, and the tourist crowds there, couldn't have been greater than in this small village with its huge empty ruins :-)

Days 103+104: Iguazú Falls

The Iguazú Falls are an incredible sight - so incredible, in fact, that I dedicated two entire days to them. I met some people who said they were done with the falls after about four hours. Not nearly enough time, in my opinion. The two days allowed me to see almost everything (I skipped the expensive boat trips), and have enough time everywhere to really appreciate the beauty of it.

That being said, it could have been even more beautiful if all the other tourists kept to the park rules. The rules say only two things: don't feed or touch animals, and don't litter. So what do the goddamn tourists do? First thing I see in the park, someone carelessly throws a candy wrapper out of the train. Next thing I see is people feeding animals, just for the sake of a picture. I really hate how they never even stop to think about the consequences of their behavior.

One of these consequences is illustrated by a funny but really rather sad thing that happened to me several times. I had a packet of nuts with me for lunch and snacks. Whenever I sat down to eat a few of them, a couple of birds would fly to nearby branches and sit there, waiting, sometimes impatiently cocking their heads, apparently expecting to be fed. The funny part of the story is that birds sitting still on low branches attracts photographers. So each time I sat down to eat, I was quickly surrounded by cameras all pointing slightly above and behind me. The sad part is that in the birds' experience, hanging around tourists yields a better chance of getting fed than hunting... And in that way, the stupid tourists alter the birds' behaviors which can have all kinds of unknown and potentially destructive effects on the ecosystem. Unfortunately, the same goes for many other animals in the park, like fish and coatis.

I'm somewhat sad to report that I took advantage of the animals' proximity. While of course not feeding them, I took quite a few pictures:



This lizard is not being fed by humans. It had just found a delicious insect to devour ;-)



These are coatis - so cute! ;-)





There are also tons of different butterflies. The bigger ones are very hard to capture in a picture - they don't ever seem to sit down. But I managed to get a few smaller ones:







There are lots and lots of insects in the forest surrounding the falls. For the most part, they are too well-hidden to see them, but the sound (our should I say noise) they make is all too obvious. Some sound like lawn sprinklers. Some have perfected that sound you hear at the dentist's just before... well, you know. Others sound just like a circular saw - and are just as loud too.

Calling out from the abundance of green in the jungle, there are also some beautiful flowers:

But now, back to the real attraction, Iguazú falls. This is me in front a viewpoint of the Garganta del Diablo - the devil's throat:



Some of the smaller falls:



This is Salto Chico:



As you may notice, there is no waterfall to be seen right now. This is due to the fact that the amount of water coming down the falls varies. Some time in the seventies, there was huge flood that destroyed most of the walkways. A few years later, and again in 2006, the falls nearly dried up. Let's just hope that they won't dry up permanently!

While pretty impressive, this is by far not the biggest of the falls:



Up close:



This - the devil's throat - is the biggest one (close-ups further down):



The fine spray of water in the air creates wonderful rainbows when the sun is right:



This is me in front of the (I think) second-biggest fall, San Martin:



The Brazilian side of the falls, and part of the river downstream:



Now, this finally is the devil's throat up close:



And with a rainbow:



The might with which the water plunges down more than 80 meters here is incredible. Just standing on the viewing platform, you get soaked from the spray. The falls definitely deserve their title as a world natural heritage site.

Days 101+102: To Puerto Iguazú

The bus ride from Cordoba to Puerto Iguazú took about 22 hours. There wasn't a lot I could do, except read (a lot), sleep (a lot, too) and watch the on-board movie. The movie was in Spanish without subtitles, but to my great surprise I understood enough to actually follow the story. True, it was a rather simple comedy, but still, I hadn't expected this :-)

In Puerto Iguazú, I explored the city for a bit. There is not much to see, except for the place where you get to see Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina all in one glance:



To the right is Brazil, Paraguay is to the left, and the bottom is Argentina. So now I can say "I have seen Brazil," without actually having set foot into the country :-)

Day 100: Cordoba

It is amazing how many completely different catholic churches there are in Cordoba - especially considering that the city is only 400 years old. Have a look at some of them:

Basílica de la Merced





Catedral





Iglesia de Santa Catalina



Iglesia de Santa Teresa



Iglesia del Sagrado Corazón



Iglesia de San Francisco



Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús





Jesuit quarter



I do hope that I got the names right for all of them ;-)

Of course, I didn't look exclusively at churches all day long. I also visited two art museums, a natural sciences museum and Parque Sarmiento. In the park, there is a monument dedicated to Cordoba, erected for Argentina's 200th birthday. It consists of 200 big rings, one for each year, and each inscribed with the most important events in that year.



I really like the playful atmosphere of the monument. It invites to explore Cordoba's history by walking through it rather than by studying history books.

From what I've seen today, Cordoba certainly seems like a very livable city - though I'm not sure it is possible to tell after only one day. In fact, that's what I thought of each of the three major cities I've seen in South America so far - Buenos Aires, Santiago and Cordoba. I'm already curious about the cities further north :-)

Day 99: Wineries around Mendoza

I got on another night bus today, going to Cordoba at 10 pm. I therefore had an entire day to do a tour of some of the wineries near Mendoza.

What many people do is take a bus to Maipu, rent a bike, and then go from winery to winery until they can't drive straight anymore. For this reason, I guess, they built cycleways along the route ;-)

This picture shows my bike (and some others). Also, pay attention to how they spell "Bienvenidos." The region abounds with wine-drinking related puns like this.



The first winery I visited was La Rural. They offer a free tour, museum, and wine tasting, so just about everyone goes there. Unfortunately, the tour was in Spanish and the guide spoke super fast, so I only understood maybe half of it.



The wine at the end of the tour was pretty good, in my opinion. Malbec is the most-grown grape in this region.



Almost next door to La Rural is a place that produces olive oil. They offer a tasting including various olive oils, olive pastes, mustard, jams, chocolates and liqueurs. Very, very tasty!

Next was Trapiche, another winery offering a tour and tasting (but not for free). The tasting included a white wine (not my favorite), and two rather expensive cabernet sauvignons (also not my favorites; maybe I'm not the cabernet sauvignon type?)



As I got back on my bike and rode down the next street, I was stopped by the tourist police. The owner of the bike rental had explained that they were there for our safety, not to make us pay fines for drinking & driving. So I was somewhat surprised at being stopped; as it turns out, however, they only wanted to warn me from going down that street because there had been thefts in that area.

So I chose the main street to continue instead, and arrived at Tempus Alba a short while later. They had a short self-guided tour which was good - more than two long wine tours a day are not really necessary ;-) I tasted three of their wines: Malbec, Shiraz and Tempranillo. All three were very good, and the vineyard views from their terrace were excellent as well.



The wineries close around 6 pm; so the last one I was able to squeeze in was Viña el Cerno. Probably the smallest and friendliest of the ones I visited. And also the one with the best wine (or maybe I was already too drunk to know better?) Anyway, this is the winner:



Its smell reminded me of whiskey - which is always a good sign. Unfortunately, they only produce 9000 bottles annually, and only sell it locally... Seems like I'll have to come back some day ;-)