A winter’s tale in BAires

Winter has taken it’s time to fully show its face this year in Buenos Aires. We’ve been waiting for the winds from La Pampa to blow a chill across the city. Compared with last year, 2014, primavera seems to have gone on and on and on… Not that I’m complaining but I’m intrigued to know how winter fares in the southern hemisphere. Finally, the mist is beginning to settle, just maybe.

A misty morning in BA

I’m often asked how cold it gets in BA and if it snows. July, the equivalent of January in the UK, is probably the coldest month in BA. I only experienced a few days of it, but it has got to down to about 6 degrees in the morning, rising up to about 11 or 12 degrees during the day.

It’s strange how 11 degrees can feel really warm in the UK (during winter I mean) but feels really cold in BA. I’m pleased to report we have proper heating in our house; it's so good that the radiator has burnt the wall in the lounge. And it has been known to snow, though very rarely. It last snowed in BA in 2007, and the last time before that in 1918! 

I had packed barely any winter clothes when we had first arrived in BA. It was the height of summer; who wants to think about thermal vests or long-sleeved tops when it’s 30 degrees outside? “You won’t possibly need any warm clothes, not until May at the earliest,” said my husband Alistair.

Luckily, he was correct. I was worried that I would be pining for my Uggs in no time. April was unusually warm in BA. Even May, which is often an unpredictable month in terms of weather, was pretty glorious. Only once did I need to wear a base layer while out running. I've also been amazed at how little it has rained, as well as seeing bouts of thunder and lightening in winter.

Now the air is slightly fresher in BA, I thought it would be a good time to escape to warmer climes and get some winter sun… To the UK of all places. And my Uggs are coming back with me. Just in case. 

Freelancing: Striking a balance in a frenemy’s paradise

I have diligently been trying to keep up my weekly blog posts and have made it past entry No.10. Four months in and now they’re starting to slip. I do admire people who manage to update their blogs while holding down a full-time job, of which I’m doing neither. 

But neither am I breezing from one café to another, bar hopping or being a lady who lunches. Instead, I’ve been cooped in my office/dining room in freelancing heaven, hell or somewhere in between.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh

When we decided to move to Buenos Aires, a blog seemed ideal to give me some focus while meeting people, finding my feet, and importantly looking for work.

However, not having a national identity card when we first arrived in BA meant I couldn’t work in an official capacity. Too bad, but at the same time I was relieved. Although we had moved here primarily for my husband’s work, having come this far, I didn’t want to work in an office if I could help it. Also that would mean working over the summer while Alistair, who is a teacher, could take off and see the country for almost three months.    

My Spanish was ok before we arrived so that was a bonus, maybe. Nonetheless, I had no idea where to start, who to ask, where to look…

Contacts, contacts and more contacts

First came the English lessons, providing extra tuition to pupils at St George’s College, the school where Alistair teaches. I was worried that it would interfere with my social life, but with little cash of my own, I guess a heaving social life was not on the agenda. Besides the kids are entertaining, and expanding my education in turn. I have read two new novels, Disgrace and Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, because one of students is reading them for English.      

Next, by chance I met a guy at the swimming pool in our previous apartment complex and it turned out that he works in the medtech industry. This is very close to my previous line of work, as I was a journalist and then later for a communications/public relations firm focused on life sciences. 

I've told almost anyone I meet that I’m looking for contacts. In general, people have been very kind, including my swimming pool friend sent me lots of contacts on LinkedIn.

Be brave. Since then I have approached so many people on LinkedIn I have lost track. Out of a 100 invitations and messages, I might receive five replies but I’ve consoled myself that’s ok and I just have to push on. 

I’ve managed to pitch one story on the pharmaceutical industry in Latin America and Argentina to my previous employer, Scrip, a news and intelligence service focused on the biopharmaceutical industry.

Since then, a friend in England who works for an international pharmaceutical consultancy service has asked me to transcribe and translate audio interviews in Spanish into English from a field-trip in Colombia. My brain is slightly frazzled, but I have to say it’s great for improving my Spanish. 

I was worried I might not have enough to do (besides planning a wedding from abroad), so I’m also contending with my Chartered Institute of Marketing digital marketing course in marketing communications. 

From nowhere I’ve ended up biting off a bit more than I can chew, drowning with all my multiple deadlines. 

Alistair and my good friend Francesco have told me several times to say NO. But I don’t feel I can, not yet anyway. This is about my reputation, building up skills and ultimately selling me. So until then I may be flitting from freelancing being my friend to it being my foe...? But a worker’s paradise is none other than what you make it – mine just happens to be a dining room in BA.  

Duathlon in la Pampa: Everyone’s a winner

Alistair and I did our first mountain bike duathlon on Sunday, and what an event. I came second in an unbeknown category to me and I didn’t even do the bike ride (more on that later). Only having done one duathalon before, in England and on a road bike, I didn’t know what to expect - in terms of the actual event but also what type of people would take part.

With Argentine society squeezed for every penny; heavy import restrictions; and high inflation, I was surprised that duathlons are as big as they are in Argentina. I mean bikes, trainers and the general attire are expensive. Yet, people seemingly have enough to spend on such recreational activities. And on looking good while doing their pursuits.

The race begins

The day consisted of a 5k, 10k and 15k run and then the duathlon. It all took place at Estación Gomez, one of the many abandoned train stations in Argentina, in the Buenos Aires provincial town of Brandsen.

Half asleep, having woken up at 6.45am for a race that was supposed to start at 12pm (Argentine timing so in actual fact any time after 12pm), I awoke to an array of well-kitted Argentines. There must have been at least a few hundred people at the event, parading a pretty impressive range of international bike brands - from Cube and Cannondale to Specialized and Meridas. 

Where the sun still shines

It was a glorious day, with blazing sunshine and up to some 20 degrees by 10am. Although unusually warm for this time of year, for the equivalent of the last day in November, you would never get a day like this in England.

The Argentines really had set up camp for the day. People had arrived early with their families and were relaxing on deck chairs or rugs under their team shelter canopies. We had come with our club, Club Kona, a local running and mountain biking club in Quilmes. A hearty breakfast of croissants and cakes (always going for the healthy option) was laid out for us, with the indispensable mate never too far away.

Unlike most duathlons I’m aware of, in this particular race (or maybe in Argentina in general) you can either: 1) do the complete event individually or 2) team up with a partner where one runs at either side only, and the other does only the bike. Bravo Alistair for deciding to do the whole thing. I chickened out and chose the latter; I only did the running part.

Chaos in the midst

Typically, no one knew what time the race started. The transition area was rather chaotic, with not enough room for all the bikes. No one even knew what the course looked like, expect that it would be flat. Even at the safety drill, no one understood the rules. And it was not just us gringos; even the locals looked perplexed after several explanations of sorts.

So off we went, oblivious. After a lovely section in the open campo, the path narrowed considerably. There were spiky bushes on either side, forcing us to run in single file, while trying not to get scratched. This was more like a steeple chase course than an undulating 5k. I didn’t really fancy doing it all over again.

The bike course was something else. At several points, the competitors had to dismount and carry their bikes over various obstacles, including half-missing railway sleepers. One of the girls in our team was lucky to have found two gentlemen who assisted her across this perilous section. This was certainly not for the faint-hearted.

Prizes galore

I had no idea what my time was but I was suitably rewarded for my efforts, with my partner and I coming second in the mixed double running-bike combo. Hah, I’d never even get on the rankings in England!

In true Argentine manner, the prize-awarding ceremony lasted an age. There were medals and trophies for every category imaginable; for each increasing five-year age bracket, gender, species etc. Club Kona actually won severally prizes, including first female overall in the complete duathlon, first and second in the mixed doubles and first in the preceding 15k runs in the respective age category. Kona means strong or valiant in the indigenous language of Mapuche, so I guess this was not altogether unsurprising. 

I might not have enjoyed the actual race but it was an insight into another side of Argentine society. People do, and enjoy doing, the same things as we do back home, even if on a rougher track and in a slightly more disorganised fashion. It was a great opportunity to mix with locals, do some exercise, for Alistair to make good use of his bike, see some of the countryside and to top it off, win a prize. I could think of worse ways to spend a Sunday.   

25th of May 2015: Celebrating independence, personalities... and art

I have stayed clear of Argentine politics, largely because I don’t understand it. Beyond the presidential elections due to take place later this year, and knowing the names of the forerunners, politics here is a labyrinth. So why do I bring up the subject now? Because yesterday was 25^th of May, the 205^th anniversary marking the movement that led to Argentina’s independence from Spain. “But what exactly are they celebrating?” asked an article on the bicentenary five years ago.

A good question, especially in the context of recent events that have shaped Argentina’s society, economics, politics and its view of the world.

Kirchner Culture Centre at night, courtesy of Infobae

For Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, current President of the nation, this will be the last time she presides over the annual commemorations. Not one to be known for her demure stature, she is determined to go down as one of the greats in Argentine politics and turned the focus of this year’s celebrations to herself, unsurprisingly.

In her attempt to leave an enduring legacy, last week she unveiled the Kirchner Cultural Centre, marking 12 years of the Kirchners’ rule since her husband Néstor Kirchner became president in 2003. Housed in the renovated central post office building, it certainly looks impressive. The “Blue Whale”, the heart of the Centre which can seat up to 1,750 people, and the permanent “Nestor Kirchner” room on the second floor are just a couple of the features.

The idea of converting the post office building into a culture centre, originally called the Bicentenary Cultural Centre, was intended to celebrate the bicentenary since independence. In, 2012, the government decided to rename the Centre to the Néstor Kirchner Cultural Centre, and now just simply the Kirchner Cultural Centre (CCCK bordering on the crass perhaps). 

    

According to CFK, the aim of the Centre is to enable all Argentines to access culture, through a wide, diverse and high-quality programme. Judging from the programme over the next two weeks, there is a decent list of educational, arts and music events, notwithstanding the iconic Eva Perón being a prominent subject of discussion.

A noble aim, I agree, and why not create a cultural centre for future generations to enjoy? The cynic in me would say that the Centre bearing the incumbent’s name may be remembered for all the reasons but culture. On the other hand, if 25^th of May is about celebrating independence, maybe some independence from politics is duly welcome. Like I said, I don’t understand Argentine politics. 

Castillo de Mandl: affordable luxury in the Sierras of Córdoba

In my previous post I mentioned that I would write about Castillo de Mandl, a hotel in the delightful town of La Cumbre in the Sierras of Córdoba. 

If you want a few days of complete relaxation, soaking up the ambience of the Sierras, or a base for a more action-packed break, El Castillo is an enchanting and very reasonably-priced spot. Thank you, Alistair, for treating us to some luxury after the hair-pulling experience we encountered upon our arrival to Córdoba.

Bliss!

Castillo, on a hilltop just outside La Cumbre town centre, is every bit a castle as the name suggests. While the gravelly, potholed path was a bit of an effort in our Renault Clio, the arched pathway was a nice welcome to our temporary home.

The view from within and of the surrounding countryside was magical. With the magnificent windows adorning the dining/living room; plush sofas, beautiful antique furniture; and bright and airy bedrooms, you know grandeur when you see it.  

A grand history

And this is not just on appearances alone; the history of the Castillo is pretty grand too. It was originally built as a summer home in 1930 by Bartolomé Vasallo, a doctor from Roasario, and soon became an architectural feature in La Cumbre. He donated the castle to the town of La Cumbre, which then auctioned it owing to the high maintenance costs.

By virtue of the new owner, Friedrich Mandl, Castillo was completely remodelled. The interiors was furnished by the French designer Jean Michel Frank, regarded as one of the most influential designers in the 1930s. From the outside, the turrets were removed to make the Castillo look more like a residence and less obviously like a castle. 

Fritz Mandl, an Austrian arms dealer, was quite the character. He arrived in Argentina as a refugee in 1938, following the expropriation of his property when Austria was annexed by Nazi Germany. Mendl, a prominent fascist and admirer of Mussolini, became an eminent member of Argentine society. He was an advisor to Juan Peron and tried his hand as a film producer, among other careers. If that wasn't enough, his second wife (out of five) was the Austrian, and later Hollywood, actress Hedy Lamarr.

Upon his death in Vienna in 1977, the Castillo was closed and only reopened to the public 30 years later. 

Space, glorious space

Set in grounds of around 11 hectares and with just 13 rooms, we had all the space, and peace and quiet, to do as little or as much as we pleased.

Transportation: I would definitely recommend hiring a car if you plan to visit nearby sites, to see the sun setting over the mountains or just for a bit of an adventure over the rugged mountainous roads.      

Heaven on Earth

Nearby attractions: Apart from the beautiful scenery, there is a good amount of things to do and see, including:

• Hand-gliding - We weren't brave enough but La Cumbre is famous for hand-gliding experiences. Whether or not you decide to give it a go, the view from Cerro Mirador, the launch pad, is worth a trip in itself.

• Jesuit estancias - Providing you have a car, the Jesuit estancia trail is well worth a visit, offering a glimpse into some of the earliest settlements in Argentina. Estancia Santa Catalina is probably the prettiest, while Jesús María is the best preserved.

• Hikes - Climb the steps up to Cristo Redentor and carry on to Dique San Jerónimo, the first arched dam built in South America in 1942. On the way back, you'll walk past Estancia El Rosario, which was originally part of Estancia Santa Catalina, but has been producing artesanal foods since 1924. The route is not sign-posted but Castillo will give you a map.       

Rates: We went off-season, at the end of April, and paid roughly £65 (just over AR$1000) for a double room, including breakfast.They also provide dinner (at an additional cost) and cater for all requirements, including our nightmare celiac and vegetarian combo.

Who said you have to pay the earth for a bit of luxury…

For more information, visit: http://www.elcastillodemandl.com/eng/cumbre.php

Chaos and confusion in Córdoba: a bumpy ride from start to finish

We had high hopes for our week-long break in Córdoba. Romantic, cool, charming and historic was how we had imagined Argentina’s second largest city and the surrounding Sierras. To some extent it was all these things; what we had not envisioned was the ensuing chaos that lay ahead.

Don’t get me wrong; it was a week full of hilarity, fun, and culture. I love being in Argentina, and I write this post slightly tongue in cheek; however, it’s a reminder of some of the frustrations we have grown accustomed to in the three months of our life here so far – unreliability, deliberate misunderstandings and a genuine lack of responsibility. Si, bienvenidos.

The road to nowhere

Day 1: Our woes begin as soon as we arrive at Córdoba bus terminal at 7.30am two Sundays ago, dishevelled and groggy eyed after having taken the overnight bus from Buenos Aires. We were due to meet our car hire guy from Alquiler de Autos Córdoba at 8am (we had done in-depth research into local hire car firms). An hour later we are still waiting. Of course, he just happens to be in the neighbouring town of Carlos Paz, about 40km/50 minutes from the city of Córdoba. This is despite an entire email conversation dating back to March saying we would meet in Córdoba city.

After a few conversations in my trying-but-failing-to-be-aggressive Spanish we resignedly set off for Carlos Paz. It is a pretty lakeside town in the province of Cordoba where we could have easily whittled away a few hours in the baking sun, but the principle got the better of us.

We head off in our Renault Clio to La Cumbre, a lovely town in the Punilla Valley in Córdoba province, to Castillo de Mandl, a beautiful hotel set on a little hilltop. What a saving grace! (It deserves a separate post).

Day 2: Eager to explore more of La Cumbre, we decide to hire some bikes. We stumble upon what can best be described as a shack with a Rent Bikes sign. 10.30am and surprise, surprise the door is shut. We call the owner who informs us he is not in the vicinity but would call his “manager” to let us in. A sleepy Juan opens the door and we eventually manage to rent two kids’ mountain bikes, helmets and a map from him.

“Take your time, come back whenever you want. Just call me and I’ll come back to the shop.”

We make it back in town around 4.30pm and call Juan. No answer. I try the owner. Ok, he’ll be there in 10 minutes, he reckons. More than half an hour later, we’re still waiting, and increasingly tempted to leave the bikes outside exposed to the elements (he didn’t give us any padlocks).

Day 3: Time to take the Renault for a spin and test its mettle as we venture to the fascinating Unesco world heritage Jesuit estancias, representing one of the earliest settlements in Argentina. First on our circuit is the Unesco-listed Museo Jesuitico Nacional de Jesús Maria, conveniently located in the town of Jesús Maria.

It is one of the most intact estancias, with a splendid collection of pre-Hispanic archaeological and ethnographical artefacts, religious art and other relics. All very well but getting there is the tricky part. It is a world heritage site, yet half the major roads leading to it are blocked off and once we finally arrive in Jesús Maria, there are no signs to the site itself. What a mission.

Day 5: Back in Córdoba and it’s Labour day so of course everything is shut, including the cathedral.

Córdoba, you’ve done me in. Surely it's time for a holiday now. 

BAires the big bad metropolis: Is anywhere safe?

Security, security, and more security seems to be the dominant taking point in Buenos Aires. Since we arrived here two and a half months ago, conversations start off with: “Where are you from?”, “Where do you live?”… and “Ohhh, is your place secure enough?”

A couple of weeks ago, we moved from a flat in an enclosed compound with 24-hour security and into a cute, English-style house. The house has metal grills all around the property, several keys for various locks and security lights in and around the building. The first thing our landlady advised us to do was to call a company whose sole job is to come to the house to ensure we get in safely.

Constantly on the lookout

We’ve got used to our friends and acquaintances talking about this preoccupation every time we see them and now listen with mild amusement. Last night, we went into our local ice-cream parlour (one of the very many highlights of BA) and after trying every flavour of chocolate possible, the owner launched into a tirade about robberies and assaults.

I wanted to know whether he meant just in Quilmes. I’ve mentioned Quilmes a few times in reference to St George's College, the school where Alistair teaches; however there are also extensive slums just a few blocks away littering the sides of the motorway.

I gaze them in disbelief every time, within the shelter of a bus or car. I know several Latin American countries are renowned for their shanty towns. But in a city like Buenos Aires, which claims to be the "Paris of South America", I’m shocked by the level of poverty virtually on our doorstep.

Corrugated iron covers the buildings lucky enough to have a roof; burned out cars lay abandoned on the edge of the motorway; while pitiful, miserable-looking horses graze among the mounds of garbage. Occasionally you hear their hooves as they pull the carts and their owners who have come to look for anything that may be of value among the rubbish bins in town.  

      

So to answer my questions, no; not just Quilmes, the ice cream parlour owner replied. Everywhere is a problem. According to him, the country has reached the abyss. With the government taking little responsibility for the welfare of the state - not providing decent education, overseeing a crumbling health service due to lack of resources, and running hospitals into the ground, for example – what do you expect? Of course crime will be the order of the day, he said. Just last week, several hospitals in BA went on strike to protest against the poor state of security and the abuse suffered by staff.

The notion of security has become such a part of the psyche that it’s ingrained into the Porteño consciousness. Or maybe we’re the ones being too blasé… Perhaps it’s not such a bad thing to have to go through a few more doors to satisfy my ice cream craving.