As we would be spending the full month of December in Buenos Aires and after that several more weeks in the south of Argentina, in order to take full advantage, we wanted to learn more about the country’s wines. So we decided to take a few day adventure from BsAs to visit the place where much of the signature Argentine wine comes from. We got on a bus and set out on a 13-hour overnight journey to Mendoza, a city located in the western part of Argentina on the east side of the Andes and the capital city of Mendoza province which accounts for nearly two thirds of Argentina’s entire wine production.

A quick sidenote on buses: Throughout this trip we have had our fair share of what I like to call “bus cama drama”. Our bus rides had ranged in length from 4 hours to 20 hours from a couple hundred kilometers to a few thousand, a quick daytime hop to a new nearby location to a drawn-out border crossing to a full-fledged overnight journey.  We’d endured extreme temperatures, loud snorers, bad movies, loud music, strange smells, overcrowded buses, leaky roofs, even cockroaches, were offered everything from candy to chips to pollo sandwiches by people hopping on the bus when the bus would make a quick stop and had the pleasure of listening to long-winded sales pitches from people selling bizarre things out of a suitcase like snail skin cream (ew!) or “amazing” toothbrushes.

Early on, in Peru, we had discovered the option of the first class section on a bus line called Cruz del Sur. We were impressed. It had miraculously made the 20 hour busride from Cuzco to Lima feel like a walk in the park. (I clocked a whopping 14, yes 14 hours of sleep on that one).  In Bolivia we found the buses to be rather old and dirty (and the home of said cockroaches) and in Brazil, we found an indirect correlation between price and comfort, that the overpriced overnight buses were simply coach buses with a little bit of extra leg room.  One thing we grew to learn was that you never knew what you were going to get with these buses.  So our expectations were always pretty low going into these busrides, but we were excited to find that our bus to Mendoza that night did not disappoint. It had seats that reclined into a full bed and was actually very comfortable. There was a bus attendant who served full meals and drinks, the movies were good and the other passengers were normal and respectful.  And, the ride started off with a bingo game where the prize was a bottle of wine from Mendoza. Though we didn’t win that bottle of wine, this bus was already better than Cruz del Sur which had been our best bus experience up to that point.  By our standards, this was the perfect bus!  A comfortable full night’s sleep allowed us to arrive in Mendoza well-rested and ready for a day in wine country.

Our first day in Mendoza was spent in the town of Maipu which was just a short bus ride from Mendoza city.  We rented bikes and rode 12 kilometers or so down the sycamore-lined roads to begin a day of casual wine tasting.  We strategically did the bulk of the bike ride on the front end of the trip to get the hard work (in the very hot sun) done before we started the tastings.  Once we reached the end of the circuit, we would turn around stopping off to visit wineries (also called bodegas), gradually making our way back. It was a relaxed day riding through the countryside and sampling wines. We visited a few wineries for tours and tastings, had a delicious lunch at a family-run winery and capped off the day visiting a chocolate and liquors factory where we tasted some rich chocolates and dulce de leche liquor.  Back in Mendoza city, we napped off our sun and wine hangovers and when our batteries were recharged went out for a night on the town and a good dinner (paired with good wine, of course) in Mendoza…just the way a good Argentinian would do it.  

Biking down the streets of Maipu

Biking through Maipu

Wine cellar at Familia Di Tommaso in Maipu

The next day we decided to try out another area, Lujan de Cuyo.   We had a 5-course lunch with wine pairing at a beautiful bodega called Ruca Malen, which is known to have one of the best lunches in the area.  The lunch was absolutely delicious! Stuffed, and as if we needed more wine, we ended the day with another enjoyable tasting at the bodega Clos de Chacras.

The view from Ruca Malen

Ruca Malen

5-course lunch and wine at Ruca Malen

Malbec in storage for aging

On our third and final day we took a more formal tour with a very small group and a guide who knew just about everything about wines in the region.  Throughout the day, we visited 4 bodegas where we got to take tours and taste a selection of fine wines. At one winery called Renacer, our host guided us through a wine making experiment so we could get a sense for how important ratios are in blend wines.  We had test tubes and tasted one anothers wines to determine who had crafted the best blend of the 3 wines we were given as ingredients.  We had yet another delicious 5-course lunch at Finca Decero and got to experience the unique “Hall of Aromas” at the relatively new winery called Belasco de Baquedano, a room of aromas where 46 stands line the walls, each one giving off its own distinctive odor (the different types of aromas existing in wine) when you open a lever. The aromas are structured displayed according to the types of aromas existing in wine: primary, secondary, tertiary (produced through aging in barrel and/or bottle) and faults and are divided into groups such as fruits, flower, vegetables and more. It was really fun and very interesting!

In the "Hall of Aromas"

Pimiento Verde, one of the 46 aromas

But our favorite winery of all was Bodega Benegas. The charming facility itself, an old barn,  the 120 year old history and the warm hospitality from our hostess, not to mention the delicious wines we tasted made it a truly memorable bodega.  The wines we tasted here, we agreed, some of which are only sold in Argentina, were some of the best wines we’d ever tasted.

Bodega Benegas

Bottle truck at Bodega Benegas

Our favorite winery - Bodega Benegas

Acres upon acres of grapes

There are so many bodegas in the Mendoza region (over a thousand) so it is impossible to visit them all but we felt as though we got a good (delicious) taste of what Mendoza has to offer over the 3 days we spent.  We boarded an overnight bus back to Buenos Aires stuffed with our thirst quenched. We couldn’t wait to check out our new favorite wines in the restaurants in BsAs and maybe just make a necessary visit to the wine store to stock “our apartment” for the next several weeks.

Our address for the month

Lauren contacted her Argentinean friends from business school when we knew that we would be heading to Argentina, and one of her friends, Matias, offered us the option to stay in his brother’s apartment in the hip neighborhood of Palermo, in Buenos Aires.  We jumped on the opportunity, as we felt that having an apartment would provide us with a more relaxed and enjoyable environment for our stay in this awesome city.  Our days in BsAs (as the locals like to abbreviate) seem to blur all together, as we slept late, ate dinner late (11pm or Midnight), walk around the various neighborhoods, and drank lots of good Malbec. 

Hanging outside our apartment

A little malbec

In our first couple of days, we were transported back 10 years to our college days, by hanging out with my cousin Michael, who was spending his semester of his junior year at Penn abroad in Buenos Aires.  In an effort to hang with the cool kids, we found ourselves partying like it was 1999.  My drink of choice was Fernet, a local bitter digestif drink mixed with Coca Cola, that one of Lauren’s Argentinean friends had introduced to me when we were hanging out in Israel.  Fernet consumption was broken up by intermittent swigs of vodka straight from the bottle, which Michael was kind enough to place in my mouth.  The “pre-gaming” festivities continued in his frat-house like apartment until 3am, when only then it was time to head out to the clubs, where the imbibing recommenced.  Suffice to say, it was a dizzying night that ended at 7am on Michael’s roof as the sun blazed down on us.  I slept for the next two days.

Hanging with Michael

Michael left Buenos Aires a couple days later, which left us to our own devices to explore the city by ourselves.  The highlights were heading to a wild Boca Juniors soccer game at La Bombonera (the stadium) in La Boca, dining out in Palermo Hollywood and Las Canitas, checking out the shops in Palermo SoHo, the cemetery in Recoleta, the festivals and fairs in San Telmo, and walking around the waterways of Puerto Madero.

Madness at La Bombonera

Boca fans roll out a HUGE flag

A die hard crowd

The cemetery in La Recoleta

Remembering Eva "Evita" Peron

Tango music on the streets of San Telmo

Watching tango in San Telmo

A Polo match in Buenos Aires

The vibrant colors of La Boca

La Boca

The lovely Floralis Generica in BsAs

In Puerto Madero

Don't jump!

Then there’s the beef, the national pride of Argentina, which is served at hundreds of parillas throughout the city.  Here’s the low down on what many claim to be the best beef in the world… The Argentineans cut the cow differently than Americans do, which leads to different “cuts” of meat.  As I understand it, cows are cut up in slices from the face to the tail, whereas cows in the US are cut up across the body.  You can see this method at work when ribs arrive on your plate.  In the States, you’ll get a full rib, covered on all sides with beef.  In Argentina, you’ll get a piece of meat, with several small pieces of different ribs. Each cut has a different name than in the States, but there are some similarities. For example, Lomo is similar to Filet Mignon, Bife de Chorizo is similar to Sirloin, and Entrana is similar to Skirt Steak.  Don’t get me wrong, the meat is good, but not as great as the Argentineans claim.  We tried at least 10 different parillas, and made it to La Cabrera, the one parilla that many Argentineans agreed was the best, twice. It was just good, not great.  I would prefer a nice sirloin steak from Sparks in NYC any day of the week.  But as a Sparks steak will set me back at least $40, I can get an order of Bife de Chorizo at La Cabrera for around $10, and the portion will be at least 50% larger.  So, on a price to goodness ratio, Argentina steak wins.  On absolute goodness scale, US wins. 

I did make the mistake of sharing my views with some locals, only to get into some of the most heated debates of our trip.  Insulting their precious grass fed cows is almost like insulting the cows in India, which is believed to be the highest order of the Hindu caste system (except the Hindus don’t eat their beloved cows).   Hoping for a respite from beef, we checked out a variety of restaurants in Buenos Aires.  To our dismay, while BsAs’ restaurant scene is certainly eclectic and trendy, the quality of the sushi, pasta, pizza, etc. is fairly poor in my opinion.  So I taught myself how to make empanadas, and this turned out to be a popular meal for us in BsAs.  Ground beef, hard boiled egg, sautéed onions and peppers made it into the many of the empanadas, while a ham, egg, and cheese version were made for breakfast.  Super tasty, if I may say so myself.

Getting an education about the different meat cuts in Argentina

Cooking up some empanadas

Lauren’s favorite food in Argentina was dulce de leche, a mixture of sugar and milk that is very similar to caramel.  Countless times in our apartment, I would find her dipping an apple or her finger into a jar of the sweet stuff.  We hope everyone back in NYC likes it, because we have at least 10 jars coming home with us.

Alfajores con dulce de leche -- it doesn't get much better than this

As we became more and more familiar with the tastes and sights of BsAs, we started receiving guests. The first was Melanie, a friend of mine from high school, who came down to BsAs for week around the end of December.  She crashed on our futon in our living room for a couple of days, until she realized that it was probably the most uncomfortable bed she’s ever slept on.  Even after she checked into a hotel, we remained a fearsome threesome wandering and eating our way through the streets of BsAs.

Hanging with Melanie in La Boca

The next to arrive, on December 27^th, were my parents and my sister Sarah.  It was certainly great to see them after not having seen them for four months.  The reason for their visit was that we all had a wedding of a family friend named Asi in BsAs.  We joined them in all of the wedding festivities, from a sexy Tango night, to a solid parilla, and finally to the gorgeous wedding on December 29^th.  Our favorite moment in the wedding was during our main course at dinner.  A group of opera singers walked down the spiral staircase in the main dining room dramatically holding candles.  They then started singing a variety of famous opera songs for half an hour to the captive audience.  They walked around the tables singing, and at certain times placing their microphone in front of one of the guests to complete a verse of a song.  The quality and intimacy of the performance made for a really unique experience.

Dave and his dad take a stroll

Lovely sounds of the opera

We capped our month long stay in Buenos Aires with a New Years celebration a restaurant in Palermo Hollywood, and then were off to the beginning of our journey through Patagonia on January 1^st.

We love BsAs

Feliz Ano Nuevo!

Iguazu Falls are a series of waterfalls on the Iguazu River on the border of Brazil and Argentina.  Each country has access to a different part of the falls.  The views from the Brazil side tend to be more panoramic, while those from the Argentine side are more up close and personal.  It is frequently debated which side is more awesome, yet we agree with most travelers, that it is best to visit both sides.

The pictures below can only partially illustrate how impressive these falls are.  When we were there, in the midst of a jungle, watching nature at work, we couldn’t help but watch the falls with awe. The sounds of the water crashing against the rocks could be heard as we began the trail on the Brazilian side.  Hundreds of butterflies flapped around as we made our approach.  Once we came nearer to the falls, the shushing sound of the water turned into a roar, and as we walked towards the end of the trail, which is surrounded by falls, we got soaked and we felt the falls might wash us away. 

The next day, on the Argentinean side, we walked along a more extensive network of trails around the Iguazu Falls.  At certain lookout points we were standing above the falls as we watched the endless amounts of water fall below us.  From the lower trails, we would look up at the water crashing down towards us.  At one part of the lower trail, as tons of water fell on top of me, I could feel my heart racing as I tried to catch my breath.  It was a pretty cool experience.  The piece-de-resistence on the Argentinean side is La Garganta del Diablo, or the Devil’s Throat.  This part of the falls brings you up close and personal to one of the largest falls at Iguazu.  It looks like exactly what it is, a huge river falling off a cliff.

If we had to choose between the Brazilian and Argentinean sides of the falls, we would both choose the Argentinean side, because the trails are longer, you see more falls, and you get closer to them.  But, if you want that perfect panoramic picture, you’ll have to make it to Brazil.

A panoramic view of the falls from the Brazil side

Up close and personal with the falls

Getting soaked by the mist

A view from the Argentina side

La Garganta del Diablo -- the Devil’s Throat

Amazed by the Devil's Throat

Getting more soaked

Woooo!

A pot of gold at the end of the rainbow

A view of the favelas from our hotel room window

The sun goes down over the Zona Sur

We had arrived to Rio on Thanksgiving Day. For my family, who gathered in Horsham, Pennsylvania for our annual Thanksgiving extravaganza, this would be a bittersweet one. While everyone was excited to spend the holiday together with the family, a very important part of the celebration would be missing this year. My cousin Susan had very sadly passed away last spring after a long and hard fought battle with an illness. As Thanksgiving was a holiday that she loved hosting very much and worked very hard at putting on year after year, regardless of how she was feeling, her family had decided to keep the tradition going and was hosting it again this year. While I was sad to miss this year’s special gathering and be with the family and my cousins, I was happy to “skype in” and get to see and speak to many of the almost 30 guests. It was nice to see everyone and, though very far away, I felt as though a part of me was there. I took comfort in knowing that the tradition that Susan loved so much and poured her heart and soul into each year was being carried on.

After making a brief appearance at Thanksgiving up north, Dave and I thought about what we would do to observe the holiday that is obviously not observed anywhere else but back home in the United States. As we brainstormed, we thought about the common themes surrounding a typical Thanksgiving: 1) Being with family — check! We had each other. And 2) Stuffing our faces until we could eat no more. It did not take long for us to come up with a way to interpret these themes using the Brazilian cultural tools we had at our fingertips. A churrascaria was the obvious way to spend Thanksgiving in Brazil.

Round #1 at the churrascuria

A churrascaria is a traditional Brazilian barbeque. The rodizio style churrascaria (which originated in the south of Brazil in the early 1800′s) is one in which the waiters and waitresses walk around offering diners enormous skewers of many different cuts of grilled meat – beef, chicken, pork, lamb, etc. First you start off the meal with a huge salad and sushi bar. Then onto the main course. To assist you, on your table you are given a circular card. One side of the card is green and, when face up, is used to tell the waitstaff to come by your table and offer you the meat that is being circulated around the restaurant. The other side is red and communicates the exact opposite. In essence, it tells the server “too much meat!! Please slow down or stop altogether”. You may have seen these restaurants back home and in fact we have one just around the corner from our apartment in NYC. Dave had been to rodizio style churrascarias in New York several times, usually with a large group of his friends. Each time I had heard how delicious the meal was, but also about the stomach ache or meat hangover (for lack of a better term) that ensues after the red card is turned. Needless to say, I had not been tempted up until this point, but as they say…When in Rome. So we found a highly recommended churrascaria and went for it!

Round #2: I look kind of scared

Though I am not typically a big meat eater at home, I was very adventurous during my first churrascaria experience. I definitely enjoyed it and learned a lot about all of the different cuts. To our surprise, we even managed to scope out a waiter carrying turkey and each ate a slice to commemorate our day of thanks. It was certainly a unique and memorable Thanksgiving.

The next days in Rio were spent walking throughout many of the different districts in the Zona Sur: Copacabana (famous for its party beach), Ipanema (the song “the girl from Ipanema” may come to mind), and the more upscale Leblon to name a few. We dined at hip cafes and restaurants, drank delicious fresh juices and fresh coconuts, and spent hours walking along the long stretches of beach to watch the many people playing beach volleyball (often off of their chest or using their feet or heads — very impressive!), futbol, working out at gyms situated along the beach (yes, full-fledged gyms!), or simply relaxing on the beach while showing a lot of skin (Brazilians are not shy!).

View of the beaches

View of the beaches

The girl from Ipanema

Dave's favorite - Coconuts galore

One of our favorite places was the bar and restaurant Bracarense in Leblon which was filled with people inside and outside and spilling into the street enjoying cervezas and snacks after a long day at the beach. We could not stop talking about how delicious the filet mignon and fried cheese sandwich (can you say sinful?) was.

Relaxed and casual vibe on the streets of Leblon

We also visited Corcovado (meaning “hunchback” in Portuguese), a 710 meter high mountain in central Rio featuring, at its peak, the impressive 38 meter Jesus statue overlooking the entire city. The views of the whole entire city were absolutely incredible.

Atop Corcovado - an amazing view of the city

Cristo Redentor statue

Though we went out to several different areas of town at night, we enjoyed going out in the area called Lapa, in the center of town, the most. In our guidebooks and on many blogs, Lapa has a reputation of being a little bit dangerous and in fact we found that it was a pretty gritty neighborhood. However, we found it to be quite lively and exciting and because it is so populated at night, it really didn’t feel dangerous at all as long as we were aware of our surroundings and used common sense. The area is best known for its lively cultural life with many restaurants and bars where where the various forms of Brazilian music can be appreciated at many restaurants and bars. We stepped out of the collectivo, heard music pumping out of bars from all angles and immediately felt the energy. We chose one samba club and spent several hours dancing and listening to great music. We really enjoyed it.

We loved the city and while the beaches themselves were not anything spectacular, the energy and the amount of people hanging out enjoying the relaxed lifestyle in this city was impressive. There is just a ton going on in all areas of the city at all hours.  We also found getting around it surprisingly easy and cheap as we were able to hop from place to place with the efficient bus and collectivo system. At certain times during the day when traffic was heavy, we found ourselves crammed into these small collectivos. Imagine a minibus with a 5 foot ceiling, stuffed with 15-20 people who had been at the beach and sweating all day and you’re standing hunched over so you don’t hit your head oh so very close to the fare collector who is calling out the window every couple blocks (practically screaming in your ear) in an attempt to pick up even more passengers!

Hailing a collectivo -- hoping for an empty one

But in a way similar to the way I feel about New York sometimes, there was a surprising level of order to the chaos and an overall attitude that I found to be quite appealing.

Gearing up to host the 2016 Olympic Games

Another lonnnnng bus ride later, and we had arrived to the city of Florionopolis (the capital city of Santa Catarina State which is also known as Floripa), and its main island, Santa Catarina. We rented a cozy duplex apartment on the island with a kitchen and great cable TV, a good foreshadowing to our upcoming stay in Buenos Aires.

About a fifteen minute walk from our apartment was the Lagoa da Conceicao, a beautiful lagoon. Each day, we took a long walk around the lagoon to reach one of the beautiful beaches that lie on the other side.

Joaquina Beach (Praia da Joaquina) is a world-class surfing beach that holds international competitions. We found this wide open beach to be quite relaxing and beautiful, perfect for reading, watching the many surfers and a midday nap. Praia Mole, another great surfing beach, was even more beautiful and had more of a party vibe, perfect for a later afternoon caipirihna at one of the outdoor bars and restaurants lining the beach.

Praia da Joaquina on the approach

View of Floripa's magnificent beaches

At night Floripa had some nice clubs and bars where you could listen to some great live music and watch Brazilians pull out some impressive samba moves.

By this time we had combed a sufficient part of the coast, seen amazing beaches and cute towns, and lived it up in Rio. One final long Brazilian bus ride would take us to Porto Iguacu where we would see the magnificent falls on the Brazilian side before crossing the border into Argentina.

More from there!

Ciao Brasil!

One day, while in Copacabana,  Bolivia, Dave said to me “Soooo (extended, drawn out pause)…I have an idea…”  Mind you, the last time he had approached me with an “idea”, I ended up on a plane with a one way ticket around the world . So I must admit I was a bit nervous, more intrigued and all ears to listen to this latest “idea”.

The latest idea included abandoning our original plans for southern Bolivia and heading, instead east to Brazil, before Argentina.  We both became very excited about this idea so we took advantage of the relaxed vibe and our being stranded in Copacabana to read up on Brazil, do some research on places to visit and look into flights for the following week.

We decided that, pending our ability to get our tourist visas, we would spend a few weeks in Brazil and cross into Argentina in early December.  We scrambled in La Paz to get our visas, running (literally) from the Brazilian consulate to the internet place where we would have to print some documents back to the consulate where we were turned away, to the photocopy place and back to the consulate once again, where, this time we were told we would now have to hike across town to the Banco do Brasil to obtain a certified check. When we returned to the Brazilian consulate, we watched in disappointment as the woman  being waited on before us was told to come back on Tuesday morning to pick up her passport. It was Friday – and waiting until Tuesday would cripple our plans to get to Brazil when we wanted to. Somehow, with a little Spanish smooth talking, we were able to convince the guy to complete our visas by later that afternoon and we got them just under the wire. We were very excited!

So, in no time, we were in Brazil sipping on caipirinhas, discovering beautiful beaches, and watching the beautiful people.  We had transformed our holas into ois, our gracias’ into obrigados and we were good to go.

Lighthouse and fort along the coast in Salvador

Our first stop in Brazil was Salvador da Bahia, a city on the northeast coast and the capital of the state of Bahia.  The city was also the first colonial capital of Brazil.  Throughout the 3 days we spent there, we enjoyed the cuisine, music, architecture and African culture that the 3^rd most populous city in Brazil is known for.

Drumbeats of a festival in the center of town

Salvadorian woman

Festival in the streets

We enjoyed walking around the historical center known as Pelourinho, an area with cobble stoned streets, cute shops and a ton of energy.  As the city is also the center of Afro-Brazilian culture, the town is filled with vibrant colors and drumbeats that reminded us of our time spent in Africa. We also enjoyed the unique cuisine that this region of Brazil has to offer.   Several times, we dined over a shared Moqueca Baiana, a traditional Brazilian seafood stew influenced by African cuisine which is cooked very slowly in palm oil. Delicious!

We also loved stumbling upon the many festivals and celebrations that go on in the city. Watching Capoeira, a unique mix of dance and martial art of Afro-Brazilian origin, was one of our favorites. On one occasion we watched a large group of locals from a particular Capoeira school, adults and young kids taking turns in a circle to show off their Capoeira moves. The dancers at times come so close to kicking eachother in the face, yet it is a really neat form of dance and actually translates pretty gracefully.  At night we watched live music until the wee hours featuring energetic and passionate musicians who charmed us with amazing drumbeats and nifty tambourine tricks.

Fancy capoeira moves

Cool capoeira kid

At an outdoor bar, listening to music

Salvador by night

An overnight bus (one of many we would take in Brazil) took us next to Itacare, an adorable small surfer’s town that is located south of Salvador, still in the Bahia state. Here we soaked up the relaxed surf culture on some beautiful nearby beaches.  Watching experienced and inexperienced surfers alike glide across the waves was both fascinating and entertaining. We also took a longer hike through the forest a bit further to reach some other lovely surf beaches and came across some magnificent scenery along the way. At night, chilled out and tired from the strong sun we enjoyed the quaint vibe of the town, mellow nature of the bars and restaurants and browsing through the small boutiques and dessert and coffee shops that line the main street.

Soaking up a beautiful view while hiking to a distant beach

In search of some good surf

We finally arrive!

Cooling down from the hike with a refreshing coconut

Another 9 hour busride later and we had arrived to Porto Seguro, from which we would take a quick ferry to the town of Arraial d’Ajuda.  This is another quaint town with a ton of bars, restaurants and shops and a lot of energy. We spent a day on the beautiful beaches of the small artsy village of Trancoso where we relaxed and had an enormous fresh fish feast. In Arraial, we stayed at a resort with beautiful grounds and a lovely pool situated at a high elevation giving us a fantastic view of the ocean so we got to take advantage of that as well.

Enjoying juicy fresh fruit and the view from Trancoso

Selecting our lunch

Lovely pool with a great view

So far we had loved the places we had visited and were very pleased with our decision to come to Brazil.  Until Brazil, we had been in Spanish speaking countries and able to communicate with little problems, thanks to Dave’s Spanish-speaking abilities and my “emerging” grasp of the language. Brazil, as the only Portuguese-speaking country on the continent, could have presented a few communication challenges that we had not had since the early days of our trip in Taiwan.  But by this point, Dave had morphed his Spanish into some sort of bizarro Spanish (trying to incorporate some of the sounds commonly heard in Portuguese) which would serve as a sort of communication tool for us. It was working and we were getting around.

As Thanksgiving approached, we thought about our families who would be spending the holiday and weekend together. We would be taking an 18 hour overnight bus ride to Rio and would arrive there on Thanksgiving Day, still unsure of our own plans. We were thankful for the fact that there were about 6 people in total on the bus (suitable for 40+) allowing us to travel very comfortably. Either I have been traveling way too long and am crazy or I have become thankful for the small perks such as this, but 18 hour bus rides are really not that bad and I (kind of, strangely) enjoy them.

Getting cozy on an overnight bus

More from Rio and the rest of Brazil soon…

Beijos, LWA

When I was five months old, my parents hired a housekeeper/nanny to take care of my older sister and me (and later my younger sister).  Her name was Isabel Caballero, and she was from Bolivia.  She told my mother  she was 40 years old at the time, when in fact she was 55, but whenever any of us kids asked her age, her response was that she was 100 years old.  My mother hired her, and for the next 25 years, she worked with my family, slept in our home (4 days a week), and became a kind of grandmother type figure to me.   She stopped working for our family five years ago, and died soon after of a surgery complication while she was visiting family in Bolivia.

Me and Issa at my high school graduation

Issa lived most of her early life in La Paz (the de facto capital of Bolivia), then took care of her mother until her mother died.  Never married and at that point with her mother gone, her brother, who was working in New York, invited her to join him there.   About that time is when she responded to an advertisement that my mother had placed in the New York Times.   Without children of her own, over time she grew to love us as her own children.  When she died in Bolivia, there was no funeral or service in New York.  This quest through Bolivia to find her grave was an attempt to do what I was unable to do four years ago… say “goodbye”.

I didn’t have much information to go on to track her or her family down.  I had one phone number of her niece who lived in Virginia.  Issa had gone to live in Virginia with this niece, Teresa, after she left our home.  One Christmas (Issa’s last), she pleaded with Teresa to buy her a plane ticket to Cochabamba, Bolivia, so that she could visit her two brothers who were both sick.  Worried about her health and ability to travel, Teresa pleaded with her to get a full checkup before she flew.   Issa, because she was either too stubborn or too knowing about her own health condition, said she would do it when she returned.   But sadly,  she never returned.

When I tried to reach Teresa for the first time, I called her work number which had apparently changed.  Only after many attempts (with the help of my mother) was I able to find her correct phone number and reach her.  She was very happy to hear from me.  She told me about her aunt’s past, how they called her “Chaby”, a nickname for Isabel, and about her deep sadness when she heard that Issa had died.  She also provided me with the name of the cemetery where Issa was buried, and the phone number of another relative of Issa that lived in Cochabamba, the place where she died.

Towards the end of our second pass through Peru with our friend Brian (who you heard from on the last blog post), it was time for me to finally reach out to Issa’s family in Cochabamba, something I had avoided doing for almost three months after I received their number.  Part of the reason I avoided calling earlier was that  I didn’t know exactly when we would be in Bolivia, but another part of me was scared that her family wouldn’t want to help me find her or wouldn’t want to hear from me.  Happily, that was not the case.  After a couple of bad connections, I was finally able to hear Issa’s other niece, Patricia, on the other side of the fuzzy land line connection.  Once we had a clear connection, we spoke in Spanish, about our trip and my interest in coming to Cochabamba to find Issa’s grave.  I agreed to call her again when we were in Cochabamba, and she would take us to the cemetery.

After Lauren and I crossed the border from Peru to Bolivia by land, our first stop was to the other side of Lake Titicaca to the charming town of Copacabana (I believe where the famous beach in Rio took its name).

The Copacabana Waterfront

Hiking through Isla del Sol

While enjoying our trip to and hike through Isla del Sol, we were literally trapped in Copacabana, because there was a worker’s strike nearby, and they had blocked the only road in Bolivia that connected Copacabana to the rest of the country, including the capital city of La Paz, which was to be our next stop.  After a few days, we realized that this strike may never end, so we looked for alternatives.  The only one offered was to take a bus that actually went back into Peru, hooked up with another road, and then rerouted us back into Bolivia.  We finally made it to La Paz, a couple days later than planned, with several more stamps in our passport than we had intended.

La Paz is a bustling city built into the hillsides of the Andes, at a breath-busting 3,600 meters above sea-level.  The city has lots of energy, as thousands of people scurried by us as we explored the city.  In La Paz, we went to a great pena to hear local live music, we ate mediocre food, and scrambled around the city to get our Brazilian visas, as we had just recently decided to head to Brazil after our time in Bolivia.

At the pena in La Paz

Once we arrived in Cochabamba after an uncomfortable overnight bus ride, we slept for a few hours and then we were picked up by Issa’s niece, Patricia, and her husband Carlos.  They took us to a delicious restaurant where we had some juicy steak, and as if we didn’t eat enough, Carlos took us to a Chicharron restaurant afterwards, where we sampled the local specialty, fried pig.

Lunch with Carlos and Patricia

Yummy Chicharron!

It was at the first restaurant that Carlos told us what had happened when Issa arrived in Cochabamba in December 2005.  Issa was happy to be in Cochabamba, as she had a close relationship with her brothers.   After the first week or so, she started complaining about severe stomach pains, but she refused to go to a doctor.  Only after her pain became unbearable did she agree to get help.  After some tests, the doctors realized that she had a significant mass growing in her abdomen, and after a family consultation, Issa decided to have surgery.  During the surgery, her heart stopped, and she died.

The day after our lunch with Carlos and Patricia, they  picked us up again, and we went to the cemetery.   As land is scarce and most Bolivians do not have much money, it is too expensive for most Bolivians to afford a full burial plot.   In the cemetery we visited in Cochabamba, most people are laid to rest above ground, in tombs that are stacked five high and fifteen wide.  After five years, their remains are exhumed, and they are then placed into even smaller compartments.   We were lucky to have arrived four years after Issa was buried, so that we could see her original tomb.

Issa's tomb stone

Talking with Patricia at the her tomb. Issa's is the fourth from the bottom.

Me taping flowers on her stone. Someone has stolen the mantle and vase.

I was happy we made it to Cochabamba, and felt it was well worth the trip.  My sisters and parents were very curious about our experience, and I was glad that I was able to represent the whole family in this journey and report back to them with stories and pictures.  Issa will always hold a special place in our hearts, and we’ll always remember her from her fantastic stories about her life, which she lived happily for (had I believed her when I was young) 125 years.

-DA

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After quitting my job in an impulsive rage, I decided that the next best thing to do was impulsively travel somewhere without any planning. Lucky for me Dave and Lauren are on their 2009 World Tour and I got to meet up with them in Peru.  I had two simple goals on the trip: (1) to not lose my passport and (2) to meet the Peruvian girl of my dreams (and somehow smuggle her back to the U.S.).   After getting ripped off per usual by the local taxi driver, I finally arrived at Dave and Lauren’s Hotel in Lima, Peru.

I got to their room around 6am, Dave and I murmured something to each other and then I fell asleep on a chair in the corner of their room for 3 hours. Lauren was busy…sleeping. Around 9am, Dave and I went downstairs to check out the breakfast options. This is when Dave made his most profound statement of the trip to me: “Look Brian, don’t be surprised if I have become a really cheap bastard.” We ate breakfast at the hotel after Dave stared at the menu for about 2 hours and then we set off to what became our most often visited and thus favorite destination of the entire trip – the bus terminal.

David illustrating our route down southern Peru

As the trip went on, I would learn that the bus was a place where a person could self-reflect, get violently ill, sleep, read, listen to music, freak out, and even cry a little while Dave and Lauren were not looking. Day 1 was not complex. I sat on the bus while Dave and Lauren argued over whether they should get rid of a free bucket they took from a party they went to in Colombia. Seriously, it was a silver bucket that you would put beers on the beach in. I think Dave thought it might have some scrap metal value. They tried to convince me to smuggle the bucket back into the country, but after I passed, they finally ditched it.

So our first stop from Lima was Ica, Peru. We did a nice little day tour. This is how the day tours worked throughout the trip – Dave speaks fluent Spanish with the driver the entire time and Lauren and I kind of just nod. Once in awhile I threw in a “soy abogado” just to show them that I keep it real and Lauren would throw in a little spanglish such as “estoy tired”.

In Huacachina, a small town next to Ica, we went sand dune surfing. First the sand dune buggies take you on a ride up and down the dessert and it is like a freestyle roller coaster ride and that was fun.

The three of us strapped into the dune buggy

Awesome view from the dunes

Lauren’s scream can reach certain octaves that I did not know were possible. We also took boards and could board down the desert hills. Everyone went on their stomach for a fun ride except of course Dave had to try to do it standing up which lead to something straight out of a Chevy Chase movie (Dave have you ever broken a bone?) and Lauren…well Lauren thought she was in the X games apparently and tried to one-up her husband by doing a 780 degree spin move. She almost pulled it off…if almost pulled it off means that she flew into the air and we had to end the entire sand boarding portion of the excursion to rescue (a) Lauren and (b) her sunglasses.

Prepping for the ride down the dune

Cruising down the dune!

Lauren heading down before she flips

Completely covered in sand

Wiping sand off Lauren's face after she tumbled down the dune

Quick….back onto the bus for another 12 hours. Next, we went to Arequipa, Peru which is a great little city. Dave really backed up all his talk by taking us to 12 different tour companies, then putting together a Excel analysis of which company had the best quality for the best price to go see the Andean Condors two days later in Colca Canyon which is like a canyon with condors. One of the saleswomen really freaked me out. She kept telling us how much we would “appreciate” everything on the tour (imagine it with like a Transylvanian accent). I noticed her staring at me more than the others when she said “you will appreciate the llamas.” We finally chose a tour and set that all up.

We spent the next two nights in Arequipa. On the second night, Dave and Lauren figured out that a friend of theirs, Gergana, who they met in Indonesia (yeah they were also in Indonesia – it’s a hard knock life) was in Arequipa. So we met up with her for dinner and drinks and to watch the friggin yankees win the world series…again. Gergana was a very interesting character. She has been travelling for like 2 years and lives on a dollar a day. She is Dave’s hero. She (and Dave) almost had nervous breakdowns when I put my foot down and left a 2 dollar tip at dinner that night. I think I was trying to impress Gergana with my big spending capabilities. She told us all about her travels and how she “couch surfs” at random guys places for “free.” She had some very interesting stories and well…ummm…no daugther of mine is “couch surfing” anywhere. Did I love Gergana – probably – but we just didn’t have enough time together.

Lauren and Gergana

It is rumored that I was tipsy that night and I said goodnight to Lauren and Dave and then put my arms around an invisible girl and started talking to her as we went down the hall to my room. You have to get creative when travelling solo.

Lauren in the main square in Arequipa

Fortunately, we got to wake up at 5am the next morning to go to the canyons for an overnight trip to see the Andean Condors. Picture a tour bus of perky tourists and the three of us not doing so well from the night before. On the way there we saw Pequnas (which are like llamas but a little hipper), Alpacas and Llamas. Also Dave and I decided it was best to have severe stomach issues from that point of the trip onward. What we did not get to see was the slowly disappearing levels of oxygen in the air – that whole altitude thing is no joke. We learned about the famous coca leaf and all the legal reasons people use it in Peru. It is famous for apparently helping people deal with altitude sickness and gives you energy (well we knew that…i mean like you know, from books). We finally arrived at our hotel where our guide decided it is a good time to tell us that it is not high season because the condors are protecting their eggs. At that point I discretely told Dave that if we do not see condors I am dressing the guide up as a condor and throwing him off the cliff. Dave’s silence was acceptance in my view. Lucky for us we saw two young condors gliding around.

Hanging out, waiting for the condors

The funniest part was that while everyone was staring at the condors, a group of 500 Peruvian girls (for the second time on the trip I might add) were taking photos of Lauren’s hair. So we thankfully saw the condors and from there we took off to Puno/Lake Titicaca (yes i know i laugh too when i say it).

These condors can grow to have a 3 meter wingspan

To play it safe we took another 14 hour bus ride (note that at this point in the trip Dave was totally non-functional due to his stomach. He was able to go to the bathroom, murmur a bit and negotiate prices down. But only those things.) Lake Titicaca was quite serene. We went to two islands: (1) the Uros islands which are handmade islands that have become a bit of a tourism spectacle but still incredible to see hand made little islands that these people live on and (2) Taquile where I learned that no matter what culture every single ceremonial dance is the same as the hora. Just to prove it Dave forced me to dance with the locals. It reminded me of my Bar Mitzvah (Brian’s Baseball Bash) but with random Peruvians in the place of random partners from my mom’s law firm.

The Uros Islands

Brian's new family

Brian dancing the Peruvian "Hora"

We had a good time albeit a bit rushed due to me being there for a limited time. After Lake Titicaca Dave and Lauren made their way to Bolivia and I backtracked to see Machu Piccu which I am glad I did despite the rough travelling. I played it safe in the end by missing my flight and spending 18 hours in the Lima airport. I was so tired that I tied one bag to my leg and one to my arm and just fell asleep on the airport floor. That part was not so much fun. But otherwise I had a great time. Dave and Lauren are easy to travel with and I thank them for letting me join in their journey which we have to presume will end at some point in 2013.

Throughout our travels in Panama, when we’d be lucky enough to have cable television in our hotel room, the commercials on CNN International would constantly repeat this annoying advertisement for tourism in Colombia. The ad says something like this: “There are risks to coming to Colombia. The risk of falling in love, the risk of being carried away by festive spirits”, etc.  The ad ends by saying, “Colombia, the only risk is wanting to stay.” Pretty cheesy, right? The ad attempts to change your preconceived notions about Colombia, which may be that of a dangerous, drug ridden country, where kidnappings and bombings are an almost daily occurrence.  To be sure, in the late 80s and early 90s, Colombia lived up to this reputation.  But with the assassination of Pablo Escobar (the cocaine king of Colombia), and tougher measures against the cartels and guerillas, many urban areas in Colombia are now very safe for tourists.  When we spoke to some Colombians that were living in Panama, they felt that these advertisements were awful, as they reminded the viewers of Colombia’s sordid past.  Whatever we felt about the country based on its promotional advertisement, our flight was booked to Cartagena, so we were just looking forward the next 16 days that we would spend in the country.

The walled old city in Cartagena is really one of the most beautiful cities that Lauren and I have been to.  Cartagena’s old city is a mix of colonial style buildings, colorfully painted houses, lively music, world class bars and restaurants, that retains its local grit that gives this city an extremely genuine feel.

The most entertaining activity in the city is just getting lost while walking the streets.  The streets are lined with shops, restaurants, and hotels, and you could spend at least a couple of days cruising around.  When you get to the edges of the city, you’ll find the city walls that stand several meters high.  You can actually walk along these walls, and almost circle the city doing so.  From this vantage point, you can look out onto the Caribbean Sea, scope out the church towers, or have a drink at one of the few bars that actually are located on the walls.

Walking along the walls of the Old City

At night, you’ll hear salsa music blaring out of one of the many clubs, and see the streets filled with guys dressed in their white linen pants and white Guayaveras, and ladies in white dresses.  There are several plazas in the old city, each with tables and chairs spilling out of the restaurants that line them, with the soft lights bringing out the vibrant colors of the city.

Having a beer in the Old City of Cartagena

The enjoyment of our  first couple of days in Cartagena was stymied by a serious reaction Lauren had to certain insect bites she received in Panama.  One morning her eye was almost swollen shut, and her wrists, hands, and ankles had blown up.  After foolishly listening to the pharmacists, who essentially have a license to dispense any treatment their limited knowledge deems appropriate, we thought we’d visit a doctor.  The easiest way to see a doctor was to pop into the Navy hospital a mile outside of the old city.  I acted as a translator between Lauren and the doctor, as he spoke no English.  After a few hours, a couple of shots, and three prescriptions, we were off.  The treatment worked over the next few days, and we were able to more fully enjoy the rest of our time in Colombia.

At the fortress of San Felipe

After a few days in Cartagena, we took a four hour bus ride to Santa Marta, which we would use as a base for trekking into Parque Tayrona, a very unique national park right on the Caribbean coast.  Tayrona is an awesome experience, because it combines trekking through the forest and jungles, with chilling on secluded beaches.  Upon arrival to the park, we hiked for one hour through the forest until we reached a beach called Arrecifes.

Our hike through the forest ends at the beach in Arrecifes

Although we could have spent the night here, we decided to press on after having a couple of freshly made fruit smoothies.   The next hour was spent hiking on both the beach, as well as trails through the forest, until we finally reached Cabo San Juan del Guia, a more secluded beach area where backpackers come to spend a few nights.

On route to Cabo San Juan de Guia

Our accomodation options were limited to tents or hammocks.  We decided to sleep in hammocks that night, in an open air cabana situated high up on a rock that jutted out into the ocean.  We chose this location, rather than the tents or hammocks near the dining area and bathrooms, because it’s high location near the ocean received consistent ocean breezes which essentially got rid of mosquitos.  We were particularly sensitive to this especially given Lauren’s recent battle with bites.  About 20 hammocks were tied to a central poll, and also tied to the outer ring of the cabana.  This meant that we were sleeping right next to 18 other backpackers, on hammocks that had a distinct smell of sweat from the numerous backpackers that had come before us.

Our accomodations for the night

Enjoying the view

That night, a very severe lightning storm came our way, and as there were no lights in the vicinity, the bolts of lightning could be easily viewed from our hammocks over the ocean.  The rain was crashing against our cabanas, as the thunder roared and the wind gusts kept us cool.  It was actually a really neat experience when we finally fell asleep, as the storm engulfed our little wooden home.

The next morning, we hit the beaches, first chilling on the beach right next to our accomodations.  Later, we trekked a bit further through the woods until we came to a more secluded beach.  Many of the others who made it there felt that clothing wasn’t necessary, and were letting it all hang out.  Lauren and I kept covered, and enjoyed the view.

Thank God there aren't enough pixels to see the whole package.

We returned to Santa Marta that evening, and the next day, we took a small local bus (called a collectivo) to the small fishing village of Taganga.  This town has been on the backpacker trail for some time, as many people use it as a base for both trips to Tayrona and for cheap scuba diving lessons.  Lauren and I came here with the intention to go fishing.  We hired a small motor boat with a captain, brought rods (and a harpoon) along, and fished both on the surface and the bottom of the ocean.  After 3 hours, we caught eight fish, including tuna, sea bass, and a poisonous snake, which our captain had to whack with a knife until it came loose off of the lure.

Gone Fishin'

Catching the poisonous snake

We took our fish to a restaurant on the beach of Playa Grande, and had a fried fish feast.  It was super fresh and tasty.  YUM!

Waiting for our fresh exotic fruit juices at a stand in Santa Marta

The next morning we headed back to Cartagena, and after a couple more days of sightseeing and walking around, we caught a flight to Bogota, where our friends Julio and Nathalie were eagerly awaiting our arrival.  You might remember Julio and Nathalie from our time in Bangkok, or from our trip to Israel.  Now, after having hung out with them in the US, Asia, and the Middle East, we were about to see them again in a fourth region of the world.

Julio and Nathalie, both originally from Caracas, were living in New York, where Lauren had met them while Julio and Lauren were at Columbia Business School.  They have just moved to Bogota a few weeks ago, and they welcomed us into their new apartment, where we would spend the next week.  Once we arrived, we dropped our stuff, and immediately took off with our hosts, as they had a plan for a cool spot to take us for lunch.  We drove into the mountains that line Bogota’s eastern side, and once we had come to the other side, we entered the small town of La Calera, where you can see pastures and farms for miles.  Along one of the main roads, up on a hill, were a series of restaurants serving traditional parillas (grilled meats).

My stomach, which had been rather ill the last few days, started to squirm as the grilled pork, blood sausage, beef, and chicken arrived at our table.  I popped another Cipro pill (which I had self prescribed), and went to town on our meat basket.  MMM…

In the countryside

That evening we visited the ArtBo exhibit, which displays pieces of artwork from local artists.

Which one is the work of art?

Later that night we went to a house party of a friend of Julio’s, and sang and danced the night away.

Heeeeeeyyy! It's Julio and Dave.

Catching up

Good times

The next day, as Julio was leaving for Lima on a consulting assignment, Lauren and I decided to take a trip to a town called Villa de Leyva, a few hours away from Bogota.  This old colonial town, with one of the largest plazas in South America and with cobblestoned streets, had a very quaint feeling to it, which differed greatly from the bustling Colombian cities of Bogota, Cartagena, and Santa Marta.

We rented bikes that day, and rode out to these blue lakes, then to an Ostrich farm, then a winery, and back to town.  The wine we tasted at the winery named Marques de Villa de Leyva, was very impressive.  We’ve never heard of Colombian wines being any good, and I don’t believe they are.  But this one producer seems to be the diamond in the rough.

At the winery

Riding our bikes to the Blue Lakes

At the Ostrich Farm

Back in the vast Plaza de Armas in Villa de Leyva

Riding back to town half buzzed and with a bruised butt from the hard bike seats, we found ourselves unable to ride up some of the steeper streets, so we walked for a while, and finally made our way back into town.  We came back to Bogota the next day, and cooked a fondu feast with Nathalie in the apartment.

The next few days, our lives in Bogota were centered around big meals and postres, with only a little sightseeing in between.  We had lunch in Zona T on Nathalie’s birthday, and desserts in Rosales at a well known pastry restaurant.  After visiting the Museo de Oro (Gold Museum) and the Botero Museum (very cool!), we met up with one of Lauren’s friend’s cousins (Alex and Edy) near the Candelaria district.  A great tapas lunch at Donastia lasted three hours and included three bottles of wine.  That evening, in another part of town, we had dinner with another contact in Bogota, with his wife and another couple.  We visited the different areas of Bogota, on a strictly meal by meal basis.

On Friday, with Julio’s return from his Lima consulting gig, we were mentally preparing for our last night in Bogota, which was to be one of the most fun nights of our entire trip.  It was October 30th, and Andres Carne de Res, the famous Colombian restaurant/nightclub was having a crazy Halloween bash.  Our costumes were lame, but we were psyched to eat and party at the place that so many people had told us was the most awesome place in all of Colombia.

We arrived to a line down the street with people sporting very impressive costumes.  Acrobats hanging from trapezes above us on line, and fireworks in the background certainly tipped us off that this was not going to be an ordinary night.

Waiting on line to get into this wacky place

Once we arrived inside Andres, all of the little “chachkes” that made Andres famous were in full view.  The hundreds or thousands of stange pieces of art, sculptures, and generally wacky items on display made this place look like an experiential pop-art museum.

One piece of "art"

We found our table, and immediately decided to join the revelry by ordering a couple of bottles of booze.  Aguardiente, the Colombia aniseed drink of choice, was flowing, as lots of delicious meat was brought to our table.

Love that Aguardiente!

The meat is apparently prepared in a very unique way.  A great cut of beef is wrapped up in a towel, and that towel is thrown into a fire.  The result is a perfectly cooked steak that retains its juiciness.

Cooking up the steaks in the kitchen

Once we finished eating and the two bottles of booze had somehow been consumed, we ordered two more, and then hit the dance floor.  The fantastic DJ, hysterical skits put on by staff and totally wacky costumes of the guests, made for an amazing party… one of the best we’ve ever been to.

Party Girls

Dude with a freak costume on the roof

Twins!

Dancefloor madness

A crazy party

The party continues!

Team meeting -- bring it in, bring it in!

What a night!

After we’d had enough, we stumbled across the street to where the parking lot was located, had some soup and burgers at the Andres outpost across the street, and then hired an “Angel” to drive Julio and Nathalie’s car back to their apartment.

Andres Carne de Res (the location in Chia) is a must visit to anyone visiting Bogota.  What a great cap to our two week visit to Colombia.