Boca Juniors 4 - 0 Gimnasia

For both Christina and me a dream fulfilled - we went to a Boca Juniors game at La Bombanero!!!The stadium shook, the crowd roared and La Boca scored and scored!

Arriving early before the game to avoid “trouble”, we had the opportunity to visit some of the ingenious shanty buildings of Boca, before wading our way through line after line of police barrier surrounding the stadium.
For those who do not know Buenos Aires or football, Boca is the old port of BA and Boca Juniors are their crazy mad football team. The area has all the poverty, prostitution and civic atmosphere you expect from a port and Boca Juniors have more obsessive loco fans than just about any other team in the world (they make Milwall look like pussies!). Boca Juniors are also one of the most successful teams in the world, winning numerous titles at national and international level.
We sat, or rather were crammed in standing at the goal end opposite the die-hard “Doce” (twelfth man) supporters. It was quite something watching them decorate the stadium in the hour leading up to the game with banners, flags and fliers. Once they started to sing and shout, they never stopped. One song after another about how Boca is their life, they will always be there for Boca and they can't wait to kill all River Plate (their big rivals) fans! Drums, a full brass band and earth-shaking jumping bring the intense atmosphere to a crescendo.

Our end is an only slightly toned down version of the other and from the first whistle the place is alive with emotion. For safety as well as the experience (the fans sometimes blame poor performances on bad luck from tourists who do not support with sufficient gusto) we throw ourselves into it.
The football itself is of a mixed quantity. Some great movement, tricks and attacking ability. Defense on the other hand was rather shocking. Goalies and full backs should not be doing tricks to beat attackers on the last line of defense. Alex Ferguson or any British manager worth his salt would roast half of these defenders alive. It did add to the entertainment though and I suppose that is the point.

Four good goals set the fans alight. One of those occasions when you lose yourself in a unique compulsive atmosphere. As you can imagine, the Gimnasia fans were not best pleased. Sitting in the tier below these apparently “generally liked” fans, we were relieved to be under the awnings rather than in the open when they illustrated their displeasure with an increasing stream of bags full of just about anything that a human body can produce. Bag of poo anyone? No? Piss more your cup of tea? The Boca fans stuck their fists up and challenged them to bring it on.... I'm glad we waited a bit before departing after the final whistle!
An experience beyond that of just about any football game I've been too (up there with http://walter82.blogspot.com/2005/10/dos-semanas-en-ecuador.html). With inane grins on our faces we took the bus home to try and make sense of what we had just witnessed.

Una mas tiempo en Sud America!!!!

Something like 4 years ago I spent quite possibly the best 4 months of my life so far cascading down the Andes via treks, ancient ruins, riots, jungle, prison, beaches, crazy cities, kidnapping, loco cities and some serious, serious fiesta. A real formative time of my life in which I met some amazing people. Since leaving those shores (http://walter82.blogspot.com/2006/02/farewell-to-dream_06.html) I have longed to return and, finally, here I am!

As the first week of our adventure followed tracks I have laid and written about before, this will be, initially a brief account.

Santiago and over the hills...
We landed with excitement and with anticipation met up with my mate Jonathan. He had flown down from London to spend a week with, or better to say alongside us, before a week of pampering. I say alongside us because each city unraveled a theme of him coming over to our hostels and us popping into his top-range boutique hotels. A sort of parallel travelling.

For some reason I do not have much attraction or attachment to the capital of Chile. I think this is largely because I have not given it enough chance. Only a loco night last time and a day this time. Interestingly Christina's immediate reaction was that it reminded her of home, Athens. A run-down version no doubt, but the layout of the streets, broken pavements, crazy drivers, climate, mish-mash of beautiful old homes and 1960's monstrosities, came together to make her a touch homesick (but only a touch!).

I don't know. Maybe it is that nobody I've met in the city has struck a real chord with me. Anyway, we checked out a few places and jumped on a bus across the mighty Andes.
The last time I did the road I had a hangover from hell (four sleep-depraved wild-eyed boys with dodgy taches trying to get out of Chile), but was still struck by the dramatic beauty of the route. This time I was able to take in more of the mountains that grow and grow as you climb the valleys and then criss-cross a large face to get onto the pass. It was wonderful to see the mix of excitement and slight nerves in Jonathan's face as we wheeled round corner after corner.

Once over the snowfield-strewn pass we dropped down into Argentina. The land flattens and you are eventually surrounded by small towns and vineyards and I..... fell asleep. Oh dear, a frustating flu bug was to be an inconvenience for Christina and me over the next few days, but we'll pass over that.

Mendoza

As soon as you cross those mountains the atmosphere of the land changes. Despite all the problems it has had, there is something attractively confident about Argentina and its people. It somehow feels reassuring and, after my last stay, familiar.
I found the city much as I had last time (http://walter82.blogspot.com/2006/01/dozing-in-mendoza.html) - just a lovely place. Tree lined streets full of cafes, steak restaurants and beautiful, friendly locals. We wandered around the parks, people watched on the streets and even had a rather colonial G&T on the grand porch of the Park Hyatt – Jonathan's influence. Even in the relaxed attitude of this town, South America's edge is never far away. On our first day we were greeted by loud bangs that drew us to a protest....of bankers. Nope, not a protest against bankers, but a march of bankers through the streets shouting their demands. Brilliant!
We, of course, did the obligatory wine tour which took us on an interesting diversion past oil country – I was driving and none of us were successfully navigating. Eventually we made it to a pretty vineyard, took a tour around the facilities, learned a thing or two and sat down for a delectable many hour meal. A lovely experience, which was sharpened by some fun driving home into rush hour, Argentina style. Driving in Greece and Italy earlier in the year proved great tutoring for bossing our way through lane loping, horn honking crazy local drivers.
With fever, we jumped on a super-comfortable full cama bus to one of the city of cities...

Buenos Aires
God I love this city. A wonderful combination of European culture and New World energy. A megapolis of some 13 million people. Passion abounds for, tango, steak, shopping, fiesta, football and just about everything. All you have to do is hang around for a bit and lick it all up.
That is what we did for five great days. From the grand snobby neighbourhood of Recolleta, past the more middle class Palermo, through the decaying history and youthful regeneration of San Thelmo and the general bizzy buzz of the microcentro, we wandered and wandered. Just the best way to take in a city!
As you would imagine, we devoured some seriously amazing steaks, drank malbec, peered around the eery Recoletta cemetery, wandered the charming parks and street markets and had a little “back at 8am with marginal memory loss” type fiesta. For me though nothing beats the quintessential BA experience – an afternoon sitting back in Plaza Derrego consuming blood strewn carne, lapping up vino tinto and devouring eye-turning tango.
While we were doing just that, Chris took the experience up a notch by having the guts to get up and strut some steps with one of the tango guys!
I have laid down my thoughts on the city before (http://walter82.blogspot.com/2006/02/buenos-aires.html) and most of my impressions remain. People we met indicated crime and politics have taken a turn for the worse, but I felt the same addictive atmosphere - energy, buzz and addictive passion.One thing that that did surprise me was how continual the issue of the Falklands Islands is. For those who do not know, the Falkland Islands (or Isles Malvines as the Argentines call them) lie in the South Atlantic not particularly near anywhere, but certainly closer to Argentina than anywhere else. They were “discovered” by various people before being settled by the Brits a while ago. The Argentinians had never settled the place, but have a strong feeling that they should be part of Argentina. A feeling that was so stoked by their early 1980's military dictatorship that they occupied them. Maggie Thatcher got all pissed off, a war ensued and the Falklands stayed British. I am no doubt biased, but as far as I can see it that should be that. A few rocks in the South Atlantic are not worth much blood. History has chucked a lot of random places under the control of random countries and unless the people of said “controlled” places want a change in sovereignty no one else should really have a say. Certainly another country should not have a right to just jump in, even more so when they have no particular historical link to the place. But....during our stay we saw a number of different protests against the British “occupation” of the islands. The largest one was right outside congress and pretty noisy. I beg that some Argentine (or anyone else for that matter) can explain to me the rational of this continued protest beyond stoked up nationalism and a touch of understandable camaraderie with the soldiers who died over the place in the early 1980's. Answers on a postcard to.....
Anyhow... saying goodbye to Jonathan and some other nice people we met, we fell out of bed early doors and crawled to a ferry over the Rio de le Plata to adventures for which I can't copy in “last time” hyperlinks. First stop Uruguay...

The end of the other end of the world

And that´s that. Two thousand km's or so of an awesome time! Sad to leave, but itching to return to South America. Hard life...

New Zealand - the final leg...

From the Fox Glacier we drove south to Wanaka in the lake district. This proved to be the most stunning section of our whole NZ trip. Leaving behind Mount Cook, we drove through thick fern forest, past battered seashore and back in land through the Haas Pass. This latter part took us along sharply windy roads through sheer, green valleys. Bubbling rapids rushed past untouched forest. Every so often we would stop to take it all in.

The mountains then opened up to the lakes and panoramics to dream of. However nice these pictures are they simply can not to it justice. I don't care if it sounds corny, but staring at these unreal views took me to different place. One I like very much.

Wanaka

We spent only a night in this chilled out lake side town. As we walk along the lake shore beach, the reflections of snow strewn mountains in Lake Wanaka are broken by the odd yacht and occasional duck. If only I had more time I could spend a while in Wanaka, but we don't and I can't.

Our limited stay does though include watching Tarantino's “Inglorious Basterds” at the uber quirky cinema. Complete with rows of worn old sofas, arm chairs, cushions and even a VW Beetle, an old style projector, cookies and beer entertain the limited masses. What a film to take our German friend to. A plot not too far from how nastily we can torture and kill a whole lot of Nazis. Luckily Uwe has a great sense of humour and all our darker sides enjoy the finlae of an angry Jewish guy firing dozens of bullets into Hitler's fast mutilated skull!

Queenstown
Only a few kms down the road and the last step on our Kiwi adventure (except quaint little Arrowtown with its odd abandoned Chinese settlement). Fitting therefore that Chris and me take in the a bird park and have the privilege of seeing kiwis with our own eyes along with the unavoidably fascinating tuatara - a living dinosaur with a separate family tree to lizards, snakes or turtles, it even has a basic third eye on its forehead to sense bird shadows!

I like Queenstown with its laid back atmosphere and spectacular setting. A cool place to wander, have a bit of party and work out what great outdoor experience you want to throw yourself into next. Like an alpine resort, minus a dollop of pomposity and plus a relaxed Mediterranean feel.
After the last week of walks, it was fitting that Chris, Uwe and I should choose to lumber up the hill to the look out point rather than take the cable car. The views from the top are breathtaking. Below, jutting out into Lake Wakitipu, is Queenstown with all its neatly laid out streets and tasteful buildings. Beyond this the lake stretches in an “L” to the right and to the front. Far to the left and in the missing bit of the “L” (the bit where an inverted “L” would be) are high rugged mountains. The last snows of winter are clinging in the ridges of these aptly named “Remarkables”.

We sit, have a hard earned beer and reminisce over the last couple of fantastic weeks on the road. Uwe has been a top traveling buddy and we suitably see out our departure with a night on the town. I have no doubt we will cross paths in the not too distant future, probably over a wiess bier in the alps.

(The less said about our farewell Nevis bungee being canceled due to high winds the better. Grrrgh. As if I did not already have reasons to return.)

How to sum up our time in NZ?

Half a month here has not been enough. There is more concentrated jaw-dropping scenery in New Zealand, and in particular the south island, then in any other place I have visited. Lakes, mountains, beaches, fjords, volcanos, glaciers, ocean.... It is so beautiful that touring round it as we did, your mind goes into a mild sensory overload. There is too much to take in. In short, it bowled me over.

As this was what everyone had told me to expect, I suppose it did not surprise, but rather fulfill. What did surprise me were the New Zealanders. Their combination of mixing British attitudes from more sedate times with a rich Maori heritage and a modern cosmopolitan tinge is very endearing. It is though their attitude to nature and the land which most struck a tone with me. There exists a heightened sense of the fragility of New Zealand's natural environment and our responsibility to look after it which goes beyond that of other countries. It showed me that people can on mass give a shit and make a difference. I just hope other larger, more environmentally monstrous countries can follow New Zealand's lead.