Here We Go

I think Kelly and I could best describe our trip to Argentina and Brazil with the following scenario:

After Kelly’s dad generously dropped us off at the airport, and after we took some silly pictures with our humongous backpacks, we set off on our adventure.  As we stepped towards the automatic sliding doors…

Lori, “Well here we go!”

Kelly, “Yep! Here we go!”

And the doors don’t open.  We just stood there stupidly and finally, defeated, we walked to another entrance.  Typical.

For a long time, my dream has been to be a legit backpacker.  Nothing against female backpackers, but it’s a fine line between backpacker and lesbian, and I’ve toed that line constantly on this trip so far.  The backpack, the Chacos, and the unkempt look all add to the persona.  It doesn’t really help my case that I have a female companion (Kelly) with a matching look and the exact same backpack. Gosh, we look good.

Before our trip, Kelly and I discussed this appearance in her office:

Lori: “Oh em gee – we are going to be such twins what with our matching backpacks and chacos.”

Kelly: “Yeah! Except that I don’t have curly hair.”

[Confused pause]

Lori: “Except I’m not Asian.  I’m willing to bet that that would be our most glaring difference.”

Besides our gear, there were other preparations for the trip.  Kelly ordered some Brazilian reais and Argentinean pesos before our departure.

Another conversation at work:

Kelly:  “Did you know that the Argentina and Mexico peso aren’t the same.”

Lori: “… yeah.  Because they’re different countries…”

Kelly:  “Well yeah, but they’re both the peso.  Like Arizona and Oklahoma have the same dollar.”

Lori: “…yeah. But it’s the same country.  What about this are you not getting?”

Turns out, joke’s on me.  Since I waited to withdraw money from an ATM once we arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina already has one gag on me.  I withdrew 400 pesos and the dang machine gave me two 100 bills and two 10 bills.  Off to a good start, I’d say.

Despite that minor setback, we’ve had a grand time.  We walked to Recoleta Cemetery, which is easily the coolest cemetery I’ve ever been to (because I make a habit of hanging out in cemeteries).  It’s full of giant family tombs and lots of famous people from Argentina are buried there, including Evita.  We shopped at an outdoor market afterwards and (unsuccessfully) exercised our bargaining skills. 

Obelisk of Buenos Aires in the center of Avenida 9 de Julio

On our walk in Recoleta

Creepin on Kelly

Recoleta Cemetery

Coolest. Tourists. Ever. (posing in the reflection of a tomb)

For dinner, we wanted to sample some authentic Argentinean fare.  The hostel recommended a restaurant in San Telmo.  We ordered steak and red wine (how much more Argentina can you get?)  Lord, we were excited.

The steak, however, consisted of two things: raw and fat.  We asked for it to be cooked medium, and I’m not kidding when it was straight up raw – seared on the outside and completely raw on the inside.  Now I’m usually of the “give it to Mikey, he’ll eat anything” variety (seriously, ask my family – it’s gross how much I eat), but even I couldn’t handle it. It honestly makes me sick thinking about it even now. After our steak debacle, to add insult to injury, the electricity went out in the restaurant leaving us in pitch black darkness.  Not our best experience.

 

I probably didn't need to relate that story in words - the pictures tell it all.