Maradona mania

For some ungodly reason Maradona is a god here. And the fact he has just been made coach of their national team has made the little bugger's face even more omnipresent than it already was.
Though I guess when in Rome... so I headed down to La Boca, the neighbourhood of Buenos Aires which is home to, yes you've guessed it, Boca Juniors.

I had a stroll round the Bombanero stadium, which is painted the blue and yellow of Boca, save for the Coca Cola logos which are in black and white - River Plate's colours are red and white, such is the animosity between the two teams.

Outside the stadium they have a walk of fame with foot casts of various ex-players, all of whose footprints are still visible. With the exception of El Diego's which has been worn smooth by infatuated Boca fans.

The nieghbourhood of La Boca is a pretty scummy place in fact, and tourists are advised to stick to the main drag which is actually very pretty. Apparently, the first immigrants to Buenos Aires (after the Spanish had set the city up) were Italians who worked the docks. They were so poor they couldn't afford to build houses so they nicked iron and paint from the shipyards and used them to build La Boca and its houses.

It's all very pretty, but the docks are so contaminated from industry that the air round there is really toxic. It's not your normal 'fishy/diesel' port smell, it's a really metallic choking smell.

The tango was invented in this neighbourhood (originally for two fellas) and there were alot of dancers around to keep the tourists entertained if we got bored of the Diego lookalike (Sorry for not getting a picture of him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it!). So here are the tango dancers instead. After a couple of hours though I was ready to get out as the smell was giving me a headache.

Well school's nearly over and I took a stroll down to the ferry and bus company to get everything booked for next week. I'm headin to Montevideo on Sunday, and then to Punta del Este for a few days on the beach. As cool as Buenos Aires is, I'm ready to escape the city and breath some clean air, it's really very polluted here, despite the clear blue skies.

While wandering I discovered this - Torre Ingles. In days gone by the British and the Argentinians were bosom buddies. So much so that the British residents of Buenos Aires built this tower as a thank you to the 'bueno gentile' of the city for being, well, so nice.

I was amazed it hadn't been demolished during the Falklands conflict, but after walking round it I saw a few smashed windows and paint stains so it may have been a target after all.

They are still a pretty political people. Even their grafitti is political. There's no tagging, it's all either giant colourful murals or this kind of thing.

I've seen three demonstrations already. One was about fifty people just strolling down the road with a banner just shouting. No police, but walking down the middle of the road holding up the traffic - if that was London they'd all have been nicked for something. Who lives in the authoritarian country, us or them?

They're pretty free about everything - there's no lane discipline on the roads, red lights are jumped, bikers don't wear helmets, mobiles are used at the wheel, people smoke in bars and restaurants despite it being illegal. It's chaos really, but you can't help but feel they value their freedom, both politically and socially, more highly than the rest of us - either because it's relatively new to them, or because they're just latino and don't give a shit.

Blimey, don't know what came over me then. Better redress the balance. Erm, I've never seen so many camel toes. It's like a mark of distinction for young and old alike, part of the fashion. Very disturbing.

El weekend

Friday night was the birthday of one of my Spanish classmate's birthday's - Michael, the guy to the right of the young German guy giving the internationally recognised sign for "Ich rock mit die Hoff".

We went to a club in Buenos Aires docklands, which seemed a bit exclusive for a bunch of scabby travellers, but we were given free entrance and got in ahead of all the fashionably dressed locals. Must be something to do with us having mucho dinero - if only they knew! Still they did provide scantily clad dancing girls to brighten up the place, which is always nice.

And of course, this being Buenos Aires, we didn't get there until 2am and didn't leave until about 6am, I think. A few cervezas were drunk and the odd Vodka y Speed (Red Bull). Jokes were told the Germans didn't get, arguments were had with this Aussie guy and gal about sport and conversations started with locals none of us could finish cos our Spanish is so bad. So much for Spanish lessons!

Suffice to Saturday was not particularly active. But I did pop down to the widest avenue in the world as old Square Head I met last week was doing doughnuts to entertain the locals. I couldn't see much, but I could certainly hear him. This is the smoke from his doughnut, not him blowing up.

A good job Saturday was quiet as Sunday was a big day. Thursday had been Violetta's birthday so Sunday was when I headed up to the northern suburbs of Buenos Aires to give her her presents and spend a couple of hours with her.

She was a bit shy at first, but we pottered around a local park and she had a go on the carousel and various other rides. Pretty shabby ones it haas to be said, but when you're three a stick is hours of fun.

After a while she became a bit more chatty and was running around like a mad thing. Apparently her mother was the same, I was always quite a shy kid I think so she definitely gets her joie de vivre from her! She is very bright and chatty when she gets going - she was making friends with the other kids, trying out all the rides and is very smiley. And she attracts alot of attention because of her hair - she draws a lot of stares from the Argentines. I was quite proud actually!

We then found a spot on the grass to give her her presents, and as predicted she was more interested in the envelope and wrapping paper than the gifts themselves, though she did try and undress Paddington Bear.

I'd written her a card, which she obviously can't read until she's older, but she seemed to like the candles on the front. She originally was reading it upside down before realising without prompting that it was the wrong way up. Smart girl!

I have to admit it was tough leaving her. She doesn't speak very much English beyond Please and Thank you and she doesn't know who I am, but having to say goodbye and not know when I will see her again was very difficult. Still, hopefully she may remember that I came and her mother will tell her and then we will have to see what happens in the future.

I did a bad thing

I'm sorry to say that today I missed school. I do have a good excuse though - I'm on holiday!

Actually, it was because I was out until 5am last night. Not my fault though, honest. Most of the clubs don't open until 2am and we didn't sit down for dinner until 10.30pm. All very weird, but that's the Argentian way it seems, even on school nights they don't eat until 10/11 o'clock.

Still, it did mean I had some free time as I don't seem to have actually seen that much of Buenos Aires as I'm always in class or doing homework. I'm supposed to be bumming around dammit!

I went down to the Casa Rosada (Evita's house) to meet a nice Aussie (I know, not two words you often see next to each other) girl from my school to have some lunch, and bumped into this guy who 'd just parked up by the side of the road to have a chat with the locals.

Tonight it's one of my class mate's birthday so I'm off up there for drinks before going to a club (drinks are at 10 as the club opens at 1).

I'm beginning to get the beginnings of a plan in my head about what to do when I finish my classes on 31st. I think I'll pop over to Uruguay on the ferry, as you do, to have a look at Montevideo and Punta del Este, before heading down to Tierra del Fuego. On a bus. Only 28 hours. Woo hoo. But will let you know.

Three things you didn't know about Argentina

1. They don't speak Spanish, they speak Castillano. Dunno, but it matters to them.
2. They don't have shower gel, just soap or shampoo. Never the twain shall meet. Seriously, it doesn't exist.
3. They're big on pens and paper. Really big. There's a stationery shop on every block with more pens and paper than you thought it was possible to sell. I think it's something we should adopt.

The other side of the world

Well the flight was as horrible as I thought it would be, but wonderdrug diazepam did its stuff and I managed a couple of hours sleep. You can really notice the difference in Economy class. When I asked the steward how the chicken was done (the menu said "chicken or fish"), the reply I got was "cooked". Very droll. Asshole.

Anyway. The hostel is, well, a hostel. I've got a room to myself, but it overlooks the road and double glazing isn't one of the options available it seems. Fortunately the buses in Buenos Aires run from about 5am until 2am, so I can follow their progress from the comfort of my own bed without even having to open the door to hear them go past. Blissful.

The bathroom is also a wetroom for the shower, and conveniently the light switch is just by the shower taps for added excitement in the mornings.

My first couple days were spent trying to orientate myself and find somewhere to have some food. I hadn't realised what a handicap it is not speaking the language - it's really alienating and makes even the simplest of tasks like having a coffee very intimidating. Over the course of the weekend I ate a McDonald's cheeseburger and a cheese sandwich from a supermarket.

I did manage to find a cafe and have a beer and watch some tangoists(?) on Saturday afternoon in the sunshine in a district called San Telmo. Sadly, Emilio Estevez was nowhere to be seen. And Buenos Aires has the widest street in the world apparently. I don't know if that's true, but I can vouch for the fact that it's very wide indeed.

I met up with Fiorella on Saturday and we had a good chat about Violetta. It's difficult to really resolve anything such as who we should tell Violetta I am or what the relationship will be in the future because Violetta's is so young and, for now at least, my life is pretty up in the air. But we agreed I'd take her to the park next Sunday and our chat was 'friendly' and 'mature', which I guess is all we can expect.

Sunday was off to the Boca v River derby at the Monumental stadium which looks just how I imagine English stadiums were before health and safety was invented. Everyone moved seats, stood up, smoked, jumped up and down and threw stuff about - and no one died. A very different experience to watching football at sterile Wembley.

Oh, and that guy in the black suit on the touchline is Diego Simeone, the manager of River Plate and a long-term footballing favourite of everyone in England. River lost and he was spat at and abused quite astonishingly as he left the pitch. Which was a shame. Puta means bastard and apparently he is one [I'm wrong about this, it seems he's actually a whore]. It seems his wife is sleeping with everyone in the city as well. Poor chap.

Monday was the start of lessons at the Spanish school, and while I was nervous about trying to learn a language after being catastrophically bad at them at school (though that might have had more to do with the fact Gabe and I preferred to wear our pants outside our trousers in French lessons than an inate lack of linguistic ability) so far they seem to have gone OK.

One of the girls at the school took us for a walk round the city centre to see a famous tango cafe and the president's palace where Eva Peron used to make her speeches. And presumably Galtieri.

Seems weird being here when only 20 years ago memories of the Falklands and this country's dodgy military governments would have made it impossible. It feels more like Paris in the spring than the other side of the world at the moment.

A couple of Spanish lessons have improved my confidence about interacting with the locals and I'm beginning to settle into a bit of a routine with school, which is probably a good thing until I get used to this whole travelling malarky.

I know this is all a bit trivial, but it helps me to write it down, because although I'm just typing in my room and noone is here, it is a form of conversation in my head and it feels like I'm 'talking' to someone at home at least.

Best do my homework now. Bugger.

The long goodbye

The two weeks between getting back from the US and heading off to Buenos Aires were so busy I barely had time to play golf or spend hours wandering round shops. It was hellish. And sorry about the sudden end to the America blog, but you didn't miss much. LA came at the end of our trip and we were both pretty knackered. It wasn't very exciting - a bit like a Happy Eater toilet break just before you take the exit off the motorway.

Of course, being only able to function with a deadline looming I'd left applying for credit cards, having my jabs and checking check lists right until the last possible moment. Much to my mum's increasing worry I'm sure - sorry mum! Somehow it all came together though with minutes to spare and I didn't really have time to contemplate whether this trip idea was a stroke of genius or madness.

We did have time to gather the clan and pose for a picture on the patio. A long way for everyone to drive for a photo opportunity, but I appreciated the effort!

My last night was spent with the folks and Tom and Gem. Such was the mood of celebration even Mum came to the pub. Everyone seemed very happy - presumably they were covering up their grief at my departure to save my feelings, which was thoughtful of them.

The next morning it was off to the station for the start of my 28-hour epic journey to the bottom of the world. Again, everyone looks very happy to see the back of me. Hmmmm.

Because my flight was departing quite late, I persuaded these three tramps I found in the street near Paddington to pretend to be my friends for an hour so I could have my forty third leaving do. I had to bung them a tenner each, but they played their parts so well and I was genuinely sad to go.

More Los Angeles

We've promised ourselves one more day of sight-seeing and then it's lie on the beach until flying home time, so today we decided to do the LA 'highlights' - Hollywood Boulevard, the Chinese theatre and Sunset Strip - all things which can be sitting down. Perfect.
First though, we met up with Screen journo Jeremy who kindly took us into his home and gave us beer. We had a lovely hour chewing the fat, while his dog chewed an avocado. You know you're in LA when the dogs eat avocado!

Sorry for not finishing this trip off. Suffice to say it was a truly amazing trip that I will always remember. Suffice to say Hollywood sucks, Venice Beach is nuts and parties in the Hills are the way forward.

Next stop Argentina!

Los Angeles, CA (1,523m, 93f)

Today we reach our final destination. And about time too, we is knackered. So no mucking about on scenic routes (the fog made it pointless this morning anyway) and straight onto the forty twelve-lane highway right into the heart of the beast with Guns'n'Roses blaring. Intense - until the CD broke.

We found the hotel easily enough. After some disappointment that the "Courtyard" view we'd been promised was actually more of a view of the "path down the side of the hotel between my front door and the four storey apartment block on the other side of the fence", we realised it was actually in a cracking location right opposite the beach and within walking distance of Santa Monica. Walking distance. What sweet relief to know we didn't have to drive again.
But if course this is LA and we had Dodgers tickets so had to drive over to the stadium (14 miles away, but still seemingly only a fifth of the way across LA according to our map. It looked just round the corner!)
Fearing the worst of LA's infamous traffic we set out the day before yesterday to get to the stadium, only to find we were too early to get into the car park.

Still, it gave us time to buy some foam fingers and dick about.


Another American cliche ticked off - beer, hotdogs, baseball. Brilliant!