Street Style

So, yeah, not too prolific this month on the ol’ blog. My sincerest apologies to the 100,000s of followers who spend their nights waiting by the computer, endlessly hitting the refresh button, hoping for a new entry on un peso para ti. What can I say, fans? It’s really a combined mixture of exhaustion (the mental, creative kind) and laziness.

What have I been up to this month? I’ve been realizing that Santiago is not the best city in Latin America, but, that said, this place does have its nooks of awesomeness. I’ve been snapping loads of pictures this month of cool little things here and there. Santiago grows on ya, if you put in the effort and come to terms with the fact that it’s not Buenos Aires.

Speaking of Buenos Aires, that supposed cultural capital of Latin America, well, we’re headed there in a few hours. So like, I should be excited. And I am. But I’m not bouncing off the walls excited. Traveling the globe for an extended amount of time becomes a drug. In the beginning, you’re so excited to see new things, it’s euphoric really. Then, you become addicted to seeing all these new things. And thus, after a while, seeing new things becomes so engrained in you that you kind of need to do it to survive. It doesn’t give you as much of the euphoric sensation as it used to, but you really still need to do it to feel fulfilled. It’s strange. I’ve reached a point of doneness, almost. I’m ready to see my family, MY DOG, meet my god daughter, be surrounded by the comforts of familiarity (i.e. go to Target when I need something, eat peanut butter, eat refried beans, recycle again, not see abandoned skinny street dogs everywhere, etc.), and breathe fresh(er) air.

So, am I totally dying of homesickness? Not at all. I’m just fine. I’m just feeling ready…ready to be done when it’s time to be done. That’s kind of good, I think. Though probably 18.5 seconds after being on home turf, I’ll want to start planning the next trip to places I’ve not yet traversed. That’s just the way it works.

So there, that’s some profound, inner stuff feelings-type stuff for you. The kind of thing I don’t really often share on here. But it’s the truth.

Whoa, seems I caught a case Tanget-uenza. The reason for a new post was to showcase some very awesome street art. I am a HUGE fan of public art. Some people hate it and think it’s tacky, but I love big, modern sculptures, huge beautiful murals, and colorful graffiti. Latin America’s known for its over-the-top omnipresent street art. Love it or hate it, you’re bound to see it everywhere.

There are definitely different styles to be found. One that I’ve noticed and enjoyed in a few different locations here in Chile is this very detailed style:



















I’ve tried to do research on it and find out who the artists are behind it, but to no avail…yet. Here are some pictures. Go ahead and admire the skill and exactitude. Talented artists, impressive work (you'll really want/need to click on the photos to enlarge, for the full effect):

Mendoza, Part 2: Malbec! Malbec! Malbec!

So, yeah. Mendoza. Wine country. We had some wonderful moments, but I’ll admit I wasn’t as blown away as I anticipated. I hope Argentina doesn't put me on some sort of watch list for saying it. Mendoza gets talked up big time by travelers making their way through this part of the world. What didn’t I get?! Was I missing something?!

The vineyards were the best part of the trip, but we really couldn’t afford more than a day doing that. Besides, we went on a Saturday, and stupidly enough, a lot of the vineyards are closed that day (even though we were surrounded by tons of spendthrift-y foreign travelers. Foolish of the wineries to miss out on all those potential pesos). And since Saturday and Sunday were our two full days there (and EVERYTHING is apparently closed on Sunday), we could really only spend one day doing wine tours.

The vineyards are actually in a town outside of Mendoza called Maipu. Mendoza itself was crappy. It’s a medium sized town (150,000) with the most boring architecture EVER –which is saying something in awesome Latin America (apparently all the cool stuff was wiped away by an earthquake in the 1960s). There are two good things about Mendoza. The first is the food. The province of Mendoza is full of Italians and people of Italian ancestry (instead of Spanish). Thus, there’s a ton of good homemade pasta, cheeses, and pizza (which is all good with wine!).

The second cool thing about Mendoza is the sycamore canopies lining a lot of the streets, like the one below:















Other than that, it was chock full of forgettable plaza/parks (expect for one—I’m sitting on a bench there below), low-quality crap stores, and contrived bars luring the jovenes (young peeps). Wow, I’m really talking it up, huh?







So, let’s focus on the high point: WINE! We rented bikes in Maipu to get to the vineyards. In theory, this is a romantic, beautiful way to wine-hop. And it was fun (after I had a little wine and food flowing through me). The bikes were in poor condition, the road leading to the vineyards was crazy busy with big fast-moving vehicles, and the sun was hot. In addition, the whole bike trip was an unexpected 20+ kilometers (in other words, it was a pretty hefty ride).

Wow, I keep reverting to negative! Seriously, let’s get to the good stuff, right?!

Okay, so our first stop was at San Felipe. San Felipe is a big, mass-producing winery. The cool thing about visiting this place was that they give free and very comprehensive tours of their facilities, which includes loads of wine-making artifacts of the 19th century.

At the end of the tour, we tasted a Cabernet that they sell only to people visiting the winery. It was not good. So obviously sellable only with gimmick attached (get it while you're here!). The tour was very interesting, though.

Hectares and hectares of vine canopy. So beautiful:



















Dehydrated, spongy grape refuse, fresh off the conveyor belt. It smelled really good.



















The next winery we visited was Carinae. This is a very cute small-scale winery run by French expats. Again, we got a tour. It was cool to contrast their facilities with the ones from San Felipe. At the end of the tour, we could buy a couple tastings for a very good price. I enjoyed all the wines we tried there, especially a smooth, earthy, buttery Cab-Malbec blend that was only available for purchase at the winery (not gimmicky in this case, but expensive). At the end, we walked away with a Malbec Rose and a Torrontes (Torrontes is a white wine that is a kind of an Argentinean specialty). This was a fun tasting, because in addition to the truly lovely wines, they served an amazing crusty baguette and a house-made olive oil. Carinae was a definite highlight.

The olive trees were gorgeous, though be forewarned; unripe raw olives taste horrific. Tried and true! Please, please take my word for it!



















The oak barrels smell so good. They cost the winery $900 apiece and are sold after only one use (for the best wine--el gran reservo)



















Carinae's beautiful facilities:

We like to pretend that we know what we're doing:



















Side note: We happened to do the Carinae tasting with a loquacious UT undergrad who is studying in Buenos Aires but was visiting Mendoza for the weekend. Hook 'em! (or something).

After that, we had lunch at Tommaso. This is the oldest winery in Mendoza (a couple hundred years old). It was a cute, unassuming place (with vegetarian options on the menu!). Matt had amazing spinach and four cheese canelones, and I enjoyed a lovely corn and red pepper pie. We polished off a bottle of their Torrontes with this meal (it paired especially well with Matt’s dish).

We devoured fresh, lovely olive oil and delectable bread all weekend:














Matt's plate:















Mine:














The wine:



















So, there you go. Would I have gone, knowing what I know now? That's a definite maybe. It was cool to experience and be surrounded by a world-famous wine country. But, would I do things differently, knowing what I know now? Definitely. If you venture out this way, don’t go to Mendoza on the weekend. And my advice to myself: don’t go thinking that just because other people love it, that means it's going to be the most amazing place EVER. That does not oft work well, those pesky great expectations. Lesson learned.

Mendoza, Part 1: Hair-pinning through the Andes

Finally, FINALLY I have something blogworthy to add to the blogosphere, thus avoiding blogageddon, or at least avoiding unpesoparati's blogmise. Ugh, don't know if you have noticed, but blog-blended words are the new fusion trend. Ugh.

ANYWAY, so yeah. It's time to dust off this here creeky ol' blog, and get back to business. I had four weeks of an extremely difficult Spanish class, and by golly, that's finally behind me (though I do hope the I gleaned a bit of knowledge from it).

We went to Mendoza, Argentina, this past weekend. Mendoza is where 70% of Argentina's wine is produced. To get there, we hopped El Rapido, a double decker bus for an eight-hour ride through the Andes.

The bus ride through these amazing steeps and slopes was incredible--definitely one of the best parts of the trip. There were a lot of curvy rivers running down the mountains. And the long and windy road followed alongside them for countless miles:



















On the Chilean side, there were loads of little footbridges from the highway, across the river, and to the houses on the other side:



















The following is another one of those pictures to scare my mom. Click on this baby to enlarge. On the way to the Chile/Argentina border, there was first a very steep mountain to climb. CHECK OUT THESE SWITCHBACKS! Yes, they were scary when the driver took them a little hot. But alas, we're still here.













Above these switchbacks actually ran a ski lift (an unbelievably steep ski lift--over the highway!) for those extreme skiier types (not skiing season just yet).














Both times that we reached the border, we had to go through customs and immigration. That meant getting out of the bus, having our passports stamped, and sending our luggage through security. A pain, of course, but the price to pay for views like this:














There were a lot more craggy rock formations on the Argentina side. It's a desert climate, even in Mendoza:

























And lastly, just to scare my mom again, is a picture I snapped going down those crazy switchbacks seen above.

Expect more about Mendoza tomorrow. Back-to-back posts; aren't you lucky?!