Wino's & Parklife

Exhausted from 4 days of treking in the highlands of Peru it seemed sensible to get on a bus and travel 1,960 miles in one go. Cusco, Peru to Mendoza, Argentina, piece of cake. Its a similar distance from London to Istanbul in Turkey, although according to Google Maps, that journey takes only 34 hours. My journey was double that at 68 hours, 57 of which were on buses and 11 in bus stations. I travelled south 20 degrees in latitude, effectively driving from Summer into Autumn. Look on the map, it's quite a distance.

Arriving in Mendoza the best part of three days later, I'm understandable a little tired, but for rest, recuperation and red wine, I'm in the best possible place. The next week is a battle like haze of sizzling steaks, intoxicated Dutchmen shouting Blur's "Parklife" and all to the soundtrack of gun-fire-like pops of bottles of Malbec being opened every thirty seconds.

Thankfully I kept a diary.

Expectations are strange and dangerous things. When you have high ones, they can be unmercifully dashed (like the last dozen England managers) or when you have none you can be left surprised and speechless (like meeting Ameican that is both intelligent and doesn't have gun). I had high expectations of Mendoza, and despite being half asleep as I arrived, I was none the less a little hesitant. Mendoza did not disappoint, it was Officially Awesome. Fact. Capital Letters Mandatory.

Mendoza's reputation for red wine is well justified, as for for 15 pesos (about 2 or 3 quid) I was made very happy, and fairly merry too. But it's a city that is more than just affordable delicious wine, it's a city that doesn't have to rely on foreigners empty wine bottles to sustain it, it's destination for Argentinians themselves. From Buenas Aires it's a short flight or an over night bus journey landing you in a leafy city of only 110,000 people close to ski fields, countless vineyards and the most beautiful parks and streets I have seen.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/5593858288/in/set-72157626649599379/

For me it's the gateway into a country a world away from the Latin America I've so far experienced. The roads are now paved properly, stray dogs are non-existent and people don't have their donkeys/cows/goats tied up in the front garden. Their donkey is more likely to be a shiny saloon, the dog is probably being walked by a paid-for dog walker and the cow is roasting on the BBQ.

Argentina is more affluent than its neighbours, but it's worth comparing it not with other Latin American places, but with European ones. Every street in Mendoza is lined with trees and looks more like France or Italy than South America. For a city in the desert Mendoza is amazingly lush and green. Not only is there a canopy on every street, but on the edge of the centre is the Parque San Martin; a park that rivals all of London's put together.

I hired a bike and spent a few days just cycling, picnicking and reading in this vast park on the edge the city as if I was a world away from the nearby buzzing metropolis. For someone who values the beach being very close by, I was surprised to be so content so far from it. The designer clothing shops of the city displayed warning signs that winter was well on it's way, but like a lazy squirrel I was content to bake in the hot sun lying in the park, thinking "if only London got this hot or looked so good". 

Come eventide, and it was time to cook up a storm, and I impressed a fair number of the hostel with my Peruvian cooking, and ability to always have a glass of wine in one hand and a ladle in the other. A few nights out were had, but my fondest memories were with the Dutchmen Sander and Ivo in the club opposite the hostel. It was like stepping into a indie disco in North London, but a few years behind. The pair of them screaming the chorus to Blur's Parklife and me pretending to be Phil Daniels in my best cockney accent will sit long in my memory.

Finally on my last day I got myself together and went on a bike tour of the nearby town of Maipu, the heartland of the local wine industry. Despite getting lost on the bus system, I finally got myself on a bike, and with a map of the bodegas (vineyard or wine cellar) and an empty backpack (to accommodate lots of wine) I set off to explore without incurring a drink-riding fine.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/5593982920/in/set-72157626649599379

http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/5593991472/in/set-72157626649599379/

The fields of Maipu, could be easily mistaken for those of Southern France or Italy and cycling in the intense of the midday sun it's easy to forget that I'm a few thousand miles from the French countryside. The area of Mendoza is magical, and although it' my first taste of Argentina, I have the feeling this will be a country hard to leave. 

By the end of the afternoon, I've collected three bottles of vino, drunk the best part of two and my bike's ability to turn my wobbles into seemless cycling makes me think it's carried a number of slightly merry tourists in the past. I thankfully make my bus that evening to Buenas Aires and surprisingly I manage to sleep rather well...

photos in the usual place
http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/sets/72157626649599379/with/5593858288/