TOO JET LAGGED TO THINK OF A CLEVER TITLE

Hola amigos,
This is a jet lag blog so it will be pretty bloggy to reflect the state of my brains, but I want to give y'all the true travel experience and well, jet lag is part of the experience. That said, I managed the airports with no major excitement, although I have to say that being a gypsy in the 21st century has its drawbacks. Even though I did remove MOST of my jewelry, alas my fat fingers refused to yield my many rings and I had to stand in the nakededy scan.
Here is a photo of what I DID manage to take off. I won't show you a photo of what the scan saw as I want you to continue reading my blog. All I can say is I hope those guys at security get hazard pay.

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Luckily my daughter fetched me from the airport in Buenos Aires (or I would still be wandering around trying to figure out how to get to her apt.) and we had Mister Toad's Wild Ride in a taxi, but even scarier then the cabbie's driving was the 80's American pop rock music blaring into the backseat. Total Eclipse Of The Heart by Bonnie Tyler, anyone?

Then off to sleep at 3:00am...and up this morning to get my orientation so I can find my way around the city. Will let you know how that works out in a few days when I can find the apartment again.
Ciao for now

Merry Christmas!

Its Christmas eve and I am still stateside for a couple more days, so those of you who are planning to live vicariously through this blog will have to wait a little longer for your adventures to begin. In the meantime here is some Christmas cheer compliments of my talented illustrator husband, Stuart. WISHING YOU ALL THE HAPPIEST OF HOLIDAYS!

Irving.

Mr Sour and the Carolers.

The Christmas Brat.

Aaaaargh!

PACKING WITH THOREAU

Hola Amigos,
Today's post concerns itself with that most important of subjects: what to pack! There are a least a bazillion blogs and books out there that tell you how and what to pack for any occassion but virtually all of them begin with that time worn adage: "pack half the clothes and twice the money."  Not to be a contrarian, I too have included that quote, but in my case, since I don't have TWICE the money, I am going to adjust that advice to "pack twice the clothes and half the money." That fits more with my "frayed shoe string" budget, and also I don't really hold to  the "travel as shopping spree" view although I know that it is touted as helping the local economy. Also, if you know me at all, you KNOW that I can't bear to wear the same thing twice in a year!

 I am more a fan of the Henry David Thoreau packing plan.
 Thoreau, the man most known for advocating the simple life by living in a 10 X 15 ft room cabin on Walden Pond, minimally furnished with a table, a desk and 3 chairs, took a 12 day canoe trip with a hired guide into the Maine woods. He assembled 166 pounds of baggage, enough to nearly swamp the canoe when it was launched. The complete list of what he packed takes over 4 pages but to give you an idea here are a few of the things he couldn't travel without: 
Wear:
 check shirt, stout old shoes, thick socks, neck ribbon, thick waistcoat, thick pants, old Kassuth hat.

To Carry:
two shirts (check)
one flannel shirt
2 pocket handkerchiefs
a light India Rubber coat or a thick woolen one,
two bosoms and collars to go and come with
one napkin
pins, needles and thread
one blanket, best gray, seven feet long (!)
pocket microscope
gloves
three or four old newspapers...

  and on and on and on.  If you want to read the complete list check out Journeys of Simplicity by Philip Harnden. It is an excellent little book. In fact I might add it to my packing list!

Anyway,  January in Buenos Aires is summer time, and it is supposed to be very hot and humid. In fact, Rachael said,  that if one can escape the city to cooler climes, one does, so we should have the city all to ourselves, except for other unfortunates who have to do things like go to work. She also said that it is so humid that one needs to change one's shirt about three times a day and she recommended that I pack a few shirts that I can easily wash in the sink. But in keeping with my packing adage, I have decided to pack 3 shirts for every day I am traveling (90 tee-shirts), thus eliminating using up valuable vacation time to do laundry.

Unlike Thoreau however, I have discovered a wonderful packing aid: the compression cube. These little wonders are the Tupperware of travel. They come in various sizes and can hold amazing amounts of stuff. Basically you cram everything (like 90 shirts) in, zip up the super compressing zippers and, AY CARAMBA, everything is crushed down into the size of a Togos sandwich and ready to put neatly into your backpack.

    FROM THIS:

   TO THIS:

Of course they each weigh about as much as a gold brick (and they might swamp a canoe, now that I think about it)  and if the customs agents decide to investigate it will be quite exciting...like opening up one of those joke cans of snakes! Perhaps it will be a photo op!  Stay tuned for the blog about going through the airport security!

ciao for now,
J 

NO HABLO!

Hola Amigos,

Well it looks like if the world doesn't end on December 21st, as predicted, I will get on a plane the day after Christmas and travel to a Buenos Aires, Argentina, to spend a month with my daughter Rachael and her boyfriend Owen.

She has been living there for the past 5 years, going to school, but I have never managed to visit her.
In fact I have never actually traveled anywhere abroad, (unless you count Alberta, Canada), and you could count the number of times I have flown on one hand, so this is going to be a  true mid-life adventure. I have set up this blog so you can all travel with me so I won't be lonely  and to pass on any travel tips I glean.

So far a couple of people have offered me these  exceptional words of advice: "Don't get robbed by hookers!" (that from my son Quillan who went to visit Rachael last year, so thanks QUILLAN, I WILL keep that in mind), and "Don't throw away the little scraps of paper that the customs agents give you when you enter Argentina unless you want to pay a lot of money when you leave for everything you actually brought in with you, like your camera, ipad, etc, since those "scraps" are your receipt", that from my brother and world traveler, Craigie.

Usually the first question that anyone  asks me when I tell them where I am headed is: "Do you speak Spanish?" and my answer is "NO", but I am not too worried as according to everything I have been reading on-line, neither do the Porteños (what the citizens of Buenos Aires are called).  For instance this is what it says in the Wikipedia Uncyclopedia about Argentina:"For everyone who invested two, three, or five years learning Spanish, or for those who took the time on a crash course or just spent hard earned income buying phrasebooks, congratulations. All your efforts and money will be completely useless in Argentina."

Evidently, they speak something else entirely(!) but not to worry;  I have come up with a fool proof plan (well, heavier accent on the fool, but I do have a plan).

Originally I was just going to tell everyone I was mute but I bet you can already spot the flaw in that plan, besides the fact that I don't know how to say it in Spanish. And also if you know me at all, you also know that I don't do very well when it comes to keeping my mouth shut.

So, plan B: I have learned to say " I am from Sweden"  and "I only speak Swedish" in Spanish.  Really, it's true I am of Swedish extraction  and I figure that this ploy will prevent me from being  mistaken for one of the Rich Imperialist  North Americans  (see, I said NORTH American so that alone shows I am not imperialist) and thence be less of a target for crime.
I figure if everyone thinks I only speak Swedish, they won't attempt to have any conversations with me in English or Spanish so I can go about my business unharrassed.

The only flaw with my plan was that I just found out that there is a famous Swedish restaurant in the city so I hope that there isn't also a huge Swedish ex-pat community wandering around saying yah, shur and the like. If I do run into one of them, I will just pretend that their Swedish has become so rusty during their stay in South American that it is incomprehensible.

 At any rate, I will avoid that part of town just to be on the safe side.

I have also picked up a nifty tee shirt on Etsy that says "NO HABLO" which should get me off the hook.  I tried  it out at the local yerba maté harvest... I dunno what the heck these guys are saying!!!

¡No hablo, chabron!

And of course,  in case of emergency, I am memorizing a couple of key phrases: "estoy perdida" (I am lost) and "¿esta riendo de mi?" (are you laughing at me?) so I won't sound totally ignorant!

Anyway, check back in now and then and follow me on mis adventuras! It should be grand.

   Ciao for now,

        J