Tasty brains...

We loved the glamour of Buenos Aires, but as Kelly and I departed on our luxury bus with fold-down beds we soon realized the landscape around us was very much like Manitoba - flat farmland.  We could've been heading to Portage La Prairie, but Rosario was our next stop.  It is a million+ city, the downtown rather gritty with a slight colonial flare.  Long pedestrian walkways dotted with shops and restaurants were fun to explore.  But what sums up life here is the very well developed "costanera" or waterfront facing the Parana River.  This is the place to be, full of casual fisher-men/women, families picnicking, kids playing on the skatepark, and joggers - joggers everywhere.  These people are fit!  Come 6pm and the sidewalks are crammed with active people.  This is also a great place to make new friends, both people and dogs.  One friendly dog followed us for blocks and blocks.  I was beginning to like him, but was sure our hostel wouldn't accept our new friend.  There was a massive concrete block monument dedicated to the Argentine flag that lights up at night, a large urban park where we ate our first "choripan", or delicious chorizo sausage on a bun, and a laid-back street with wide boulevards full of restaurants.  It was a great place to visit.

Juan and I spent three nights in Rosario before it was time to move on to Bell Ville, an old friend's home town.  Jacko and Tara and their two children, Manuk and Amaya, have been in Argentina for the past month visiting with Jacko's family.  We just happened to be in Argentina at the same time and could not pass up the opportunity to visit.  We certainly made the right decision!  Upon arrival we were treated to yerba mate and the wonderful pastries such as croissants and danishes.  Yerba mate is a tradition onto itself with many unspoken rules and etiquette.  The concept of mate drinking is centred around sharing.  There is usually one person who pours the mate and then it goes around the circle of people.  When the mate is handed to you, you should drink until it is gone.  Never walk away from the group with the mate or talk and talk and talk without finishing and passing the mate back to the server.  Never say say "Gracias" (thank you) when passing back the mate unless  you don't want anymore....this was very hard for us Canadians who are polite to a fault sometimes!  

Next came the "asado" or BBQ.   I (Juan) went with Jacko to buy the charcoal and meats.  That was an adventure onto itself, and with blank stares I caught a glimpse of the thick slang and quick pace of Castellano (Spanish).  By midnight we were eating - the cooking of the meat is a delicate art and perfection takes time.  Jacko's brother Pablo cooked a delicious brain, slightly crisp on the outside and cheese-like gooey on the inside.  Mmmm.  I mean it.  We tried sweet-bread-like glands, crispy chinchulin  (or intestine), morcilla (blood sausage), chorizo sausage, pork and beef ribs, and succulent meat - cooked the whole way through (no red) but still juicy.  We washed it all down with red/white wine mixed with soda water (the norm), and Coke with Fernet, the hard-alcohol of choice.   Typical of Argentinians, the party kept going, and we were in bed by 5:30am.  Good times.





Good times indeed.  Juan and I barely made it to the family's 1pm lunch which was made up of empanadas, salads, and various beverages.  It was delicious, possibly the best carne (meat) empanadas I've had yet.  The night before we had met Jacko's aunt Sonia and her husband Gustavo.  They were going up to the mountains (las Sierras) just past Cordoba and had invited us along.  It took us a moment to give up our reservation in Parana and pack up our bags for a weekend at Carlos Paz, a very popular summer destination for Argentinians.  Sonia and Gustavo picked us up around 5pm and we were off.  The drive was 2 and half hours but it went by fast as we shared yerba mate and sweets in the car and Juan chatted in Spanish with them, stopping to translate for me.  Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that although Jacko's parents, Paul and Betty, and his brother, Pablo all speak English, Sonia and Gustavo do not.  It was time for full Spanish immersion and I quickly learned how little I really know.  At times it was frustrating, but Juan did a great job translating and keeping me involved in the conversation.  I found the wine really helped loosen my lips and I did my best to tell stories and generally get to know these gracious and fun people.

That same night Gustavo and Sonia took us with their daughter Magali to Cosquin, where we were lucky enough to be around for their annual Folklore Music Festival.  Again we ate around midnight, this time trying the famous Locro, a type of stew with a hint of spice.  Since we were up in the mountains it was chilly outside so we headed into a hall to hear and watch some great traditional music and dance, which resembles in some ways Mexican and Salvadoran folklore but unique in its own way.  The next day we visited Sonia's son Joaquin and some friends in the small town of Salsipuedes (translated "Leave if You Can").  Frito and Claudia had a beautiful home that Kelly and I both envied.  The drive there opened our eyes to the province's current drought - most rivers had a mere trickle, though it didn't stop people from taking a dip.  By the time we left it was getting dark, but we could still see some beautiful vistas of the surrounding mountains.  The paved road suddenly turned to dirt, and we started descending the most windy road I've ever been on, complete with blind corners and sheer drop-offs at every turn.  Match that with Gustavo's swift driving and loads of traffic heading back from Cosquin and you get Kelly and I gripping each other's hand and saying our final I Love You's.  We later found out this road, called El Cuadrado, is a famous course for rally car racing, and had just hosted the Dakar Rally.  Cool, but deadly.

Our night didn't end there, heck when we got back to Sonia and Gustavo's house it was only 10:30pm.  After freshening up we were off to Carlos Paz for dinner, picking up Sonia's daughter along the way.  Juan and I shared fajitas at a great Mexican restaurant called Oaxaca, finishing up around quarter to one in the morning.  But we weren't done!  We still had to check out this infamous town, dubbed a little Las Vegas in our Lonely Planet guide book.  The streets were packed and every outdoor patio was full of people having dinner and drinks.  There were plenty of lights, music and stores that really did give the town a Vegas feel.  After going to a few stores Gustavo and Sonia helped Juan and I pick out our first mate (which is the cup you put the yerba into) and finally we hit up a patio for some Chopp (the equivalent to good draft beer in Canada).  As we were wrapping up our night around 3:30am, Magali was out to the clubs which stay open until 6am.  Juan and I are no slouches when it comes to partying but I just could not imagine continuing on to go dancing until the wee hours.

We headed back to Bell Ville, just in time to be poured on by much needed rain.  We truly appreciated the hospitality of Jacko and Tara, Pablo, Betty and Paul, and Gustavo and Sonia.  How else would we have partaken in a traditional asado or shared a round of mate, or gotten to know the fine details that make this culture so rich and beautiful?  Argentinians are exceptionally friendly, and we've seen it every place we go.  We left Bell Ville with wide smiles on our way to Parana, where we've been since Monday.  If you've made it this far, you'll be glad to know we'll leave that story until our next update.  Hope all is well with you.