I don't know jack but I stay sincere: Mustache Mendoza

We returned to Buenos Aires from Salta on a Thursday morning. We took five days to recover from our various stomach ailments and catch up on sleep before we once again stepped on a bus destined for the Andes on a Tuesday. This time we were going South and West to a city called Mendoza famous for its wines and scenery. We did the trip without the planning or funding of Boston College, which turned out to be a great idea. The group consisted of six BC students, one French/American named Max, and 5 Argentinians. The diversity was a plus especially since we were able to practice Spanish and compare the differing sexual expressions of our respective cultures. Dave, Dan, and I still hadn't shaved since before Salta and we all had vowed to create mustaches for our excursion to Mendoza. Dave wussed out and went for the goatee while Dan created an awesome chinstrap/mustache which he dubbed the Chester A. Arthur. I stayed true to my word and rocked a 'stache that was partly badass but mostly sleazy. People frequently mistook me for a private detective from the 80s. Brenny continued to be unmanly and stayed at home to watch romantic comedies by himself.

Remembering the horror of our previous 20+ hour bus rides across Argentina, Dave and I properly prepared ourselves by packing a couple bottles of wine and some Fernet (Argentina's national liquor drink which tastes like cough syrup, but in a good way, if that makes any sense). The stuff is strong, and we ended up getting sufficiently tipsy. Needless to say, the bus ride was actually quite fun as the alcohol helped to create much laughter, several mishaps, and a whole lot of silliness. I was a little out of it when we arrived in Mendoza the following morning. We took a scenic cab through the very pretty city of Mendoza to our hostel. The streets are wide and lined with overhanging trees. The buildings are short, tasteful, and unobtrusive. The atmosphere is laid back and content, and all of this combined to remind me of my childhood in Harare.

We met up with our Argentine friends at the hostel and went out for lunch to discuss our plans for the week. After the lunch we returned to the hostel to rent bikes from there in order to further explore the city. We'd heard whispers of a mysterious park to the west of Mendoza that had pretty trees and sparkling blue lakes. There were even rumors of a hidden stadium flanked by huge snow-capped Andean mountains. So we hopped on our bicycles and commenced exploring. After some tricky maneuvering through traffic and over drainage ditches we discovered the park, and it was glorious. There were mile and miles of verdant greenery to ride through. I cruised next to the sun-glistening lake towards the picturesque mountains that filled the background while slowly enjoying an orange popsicle. Then we explored a stadium devoid of people allowing me to coast down the ramps and bask in the echoing silence that only a large empty building can provide. Next was some intrepid riding through woods and soccer fields, over creeks and fences. It was one of the better bike rides I've taken, and a great way to see Mendoza while stretching our legs which were cramped from the long bus ride. Also, I was shirtless for essentially the whole time making it 100 times better.

A typical Mendozan street.

The next day we took a bus to the small town of Maipu that is famous for having like a million wineries. We had heard that the best way to enjoy Maipu was to rent a bike and ride to the various wineries visiting and tasting as much as possible. There lives a man called Mr. Hugo to help young people realize this goal, and he is the coolest man in Argentina. Everyday he rents out bikes to people, fortifies their spirits and bodies with some homemade wine, and sends them off to fend for themselves. He is extremely happy and approachable, seemingly using every fiber of his being to cater to his clients and guarantee their enjoyment even though he will probably never see them again. He also has tandem bikes which are hilarious and great for drive-by water attacks on unsuspecting friends. We arrived rather late to Maipu so we were only able to visit the wine museum which was full of big wooden barrels of wine and two other wineries. It worked out well though because the last place we went to gave us four glasses each for 25 pesos total. The marketing ploy worked wonders on us as we proceeded to buy several bottles from them and sit in the grass drinking and chatting the waning hours of the day away.

It turns out that we had biked pretty far and were many miles away from Mr. Hugo's house. It was beginning to get dark too, and I figured we would probably have to leave soon; however, several members of our group were in no state to ride a bike 10 feet let alone several miles. I was a little worried, and I was soon a lot worried when two paddy wagons pulled into the winery. "Uh Oh" I thought, "we're gonna spend some time in a tiny Argentinian jail for being loudmouthed Americans." I eyed my bike and envisioned jumping on it and dashing into the vineyards towards the setting sun and freedom. As these thoughts filled my brain Mr. Hugo pulled up in his pickup truck and greeted the cops like old friends. Mr. Hugo is such a beast that he controls the local police force and gets them to transport his clients from far off wineries back to his house. For once, the police were there to help us, and for once they were really nice. They let us pose for pictures and be handcuffed for fun; then they piled us into the back of the paddy wagons and gave us a ride back to Mr. Hugo's. The man provided us with jugs of his homemade wine and we proceeded to get wild. It was a very fun party that we never wanted to leave, but our growling stomachs forced us to board the bus back to Mendoza. The ride was ridiculous as people were singing at the top of their lungs, dancing in the aisles, and doing gymnastics on the support bars. It had been a great day and after eating, drinking, and dancing a little more we went to bed fairly early to prepare for our two day rafting trip that commenced in the morning.

This is what wine comes from.

This is where wine is made.

This is our group exploring the wine country.

This is the wine road we biked down.

This is Madeleine and Barbie sharing a bike, and yes I can ride and take pictures at the same time-skillz.

This is a plaque from the ultimate winery. It says - He who drinks gets drunk, he who gets drunk sleeps, he who sleeps doesn't sin, he who doesn't sin goes to heaven, and since we are going to heaven, lets drink! Now that's a saying that makes sense.

This is us in a paddy wagon, hopefully the only time.

These are some real men, the one on the right might be Magnum PI.

This is debauchery.

The next day we woke up bright and early to drive up and into the Andean mountains for our rafting trip. The plan was to do about 5 hours of rafting each day, eat drink and be merry around a campfire, sleep in the wilderness, and in general have a blast. The company that did the trip for us provided everything but sleeping bags, which we failed to bring, so they provided sleeping bags too. We had two guides that were very cool and funny. They were extremely helpful as they cooked for us, saved our lives, and drank with us. The Mendoza river descends from the snow capped Andes in a canyon of mountains reaching for the clouds. The views and icy water are equally breathtaking and exhilarating. Because the water is so damn cold, we were outfitted in wetsuits, windbreakers, booties, and helmets. I thought I looked fairly ridiculous and felt as if I was being sent to the moon. It was OK though as we all looked equally stupid except for the guides, who had their own cooler gear, and Max who managed to pull off a French adventurer look which he lived up to by peeing in his wetsuit. Dirty dirty frenchy.

After some basic instructions and struggles outfitting ourselves in the suits we jumped in the boats and were off. The rapids weren't anything too crazy but still very fun; it helped that getting hit in the face by a surging wave of frigid water would send adrenaline rushing through the body. The strong sun and wind quickly dried us off unless you managed to fall in which happened to our friend Augustin. It apparently happened in slow motion and his two boatmates, Max and Dave, were too busy laughing to paddle over to rescue him. He ended up spending a solid 30 seconds in the water because of their inability to help. He was shivering the rest of the day and not too happy with them, but all was quickly forgiven. After several hours of rafting and paddling we stopped for camp at an abandoned railway station. The ruins were quite mysterious and decrepit, a perfect setting for a horror movie. To strengthen our spirits we had each others company, a roaring campfire, and, most importantly, ten liters of wine. I guess we drank a lot of wine in wine country, you know, when in Rome.

The next day was not sunny, and not warm in anyway. The river was colder and the wind stronger. We had no choice but to brave it out and continue down the river to the end. The rapids were quite strong and fun too, and I couldn't decide if I was enjoying myself or having the most miserable time. The four hour ride down the river was some of the coldest I have ever been as we were thoroughly drenched by the rapids, and this time there was no sun to dry us off. We tried to laugh it off and revel in each others misery, but boy was I glad to step off the raft onto dry land. It took me a couple minutes to walk properly though because my feet were completely numb, and it took us all a couple of hours to warm back up and stop shivering. It was a great experience though and the whole rafting trip was one of my funner times in Argentina.

The rafting group in all our glory.

Rios y Montanas-perfecta pareja.

It was a scenic ride.

We found old El Dorado.

Bridge over trouble waters.

Remnants of the railroad that used to run next to the river.

The abandoned railroad station where we camped.

That's some cold water there.

That night we returned to our hostel for a welcome night of sleep in a warm bed. The next day we went on a hiking and rappelling trip into the Andes. We hiked up one side of a mountain, then put on our gear and hiked down the other side to some cliffs. An early morning hike in beautiful mountains is a great way to brighten one's mood, and walking backwards down a 130 foot cliff is a great way to spark one's self confidence. The two combined to make me quite content. After the physical activity was done we visited some legit hot springs that were located in the mountains next to Mendoza river. There were many pools with temperatures ranging from super hot to relaxing hot to normal to freezing mountain river cold. We tried them all but mainly settled on the relaxing one to ease our aches away and prepare ourselves for the long bus ride back to Buenos Aires. That was far from my mind though as I lay in the water and contemplated the mountains surrounding me: a perfect way to end a fantastic vacation.