Buenos Aires and Beyond for a Beginner
May 22nd, 2013, 02:43 AM
#61
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If by "the peso check" you mean you have pesos leftover, you are in luck, because you sold above 9,50 and now it stands at about 8.60.
In other words, you'll repurchase any dollars you wish to buy back at a significantly lower rate, unless something unexpected happens during the next few days.
Have a great time during the rest of your trip and cancel those Viet Nam plans. Otherwise, you could visit our South sometime during the dates I suggested in a previous post.
In other words, you'll repurchase any dollars you wish to buy back at a significantly lower rate, unless something unexpected happens during the next few days.
Have a great time during the rest of your trip and cancel those Viet Nam plans. Otherwise, you could visit our South sometime during the dates I suggested in a previous post.
May 22nd, 2013, 04:55 PM
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What I meant - based on what research I've done- is that the markets that they are apparently famous for are not likely to be so active in January as they might be the rest of the year. I won't be expecting much sunshine up north. The guides I've read indicate cold mountain weather, some snow (based on where you go) and to wear heavy winter clothing. Basically, winter conditions. I'm figuring halfway down the country and below might be more amenable. Again I'm open here because I've not gone and I've only been reading so far.
AVRooster, I'm thinking I might be very close on those pesos but we'll see. I did a skydive today and with the parapente, it's adding up and with another two day trip and the estancia, well, we'll see. I'll keep you posted!
AVRooster, I'm thinking I might be very close on those pesos but we'll see. I did a skydive today and with the parapente, it's adding up and with another two day trip and the estancia, well, we'll see. I'll keep you posted!
May 25th, 2013, 06:20 AM
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Great advice, and I will get on it when I am back in the States.
The report on Diego and Los Pingos is terrific- again, the hostel offers sunset rides each night to the same place where I overnighted, and you eat like a king and sing Baby Boomer songs around the fireplace. And everyone, always, drinks wine as though the jug is about to go empty. All in good fun.
However, if you are a rider and you seriously want a slightly epic experience, I found Diego to be delighted to take me out for 2 days solo ($2250 AR), for which I was quite happy to pay when I had finally slid like a sack of potatoes to the ground after 9 hours the second day.
Not only did Diego kindly squire me around to find what I was searching for in Mendoza as previously reported, I found him to be multi-talented in other areas: he's one hell of a great cook even when you remove carne from the menu, and he's got a beautiful voice especially when he sings in his own tongue, and stays away from Baby Boomer classics.
The drive to the first ranch was pretty short and our horses were ready to go. We loaded up, and started down the road. To my delight, as soon as we hit some smooth open road, he took off like a shot at full gallop. My horse was nowhere near as fast, but we skidded to a stop mostly together. What I appreciated about this was that Diego was- and I frankly don't blame him- seeing whether my money was where my mouth was about being able to ride. Since I did not approach him hanging onto the saddle with the reins flying in all directions, he was happy enough. The other thing I so appreciated about time with Diego is that I asked for, and got, plenty of education about how to saddle up, the system of cinching, and many other aspects that are so often done for you by other gauchos.
Diego pointed out far distant poplars and some green trees, which were our initial destinations for the day, before the final overnight at the second ranch. Riding takes you through scrub brush, weaving constantly in and out of the thorn bushes which are here nowhere as thick as I've seen elsewhere. They are replaced by sage (lovely if you've never smelled it, collected and sold in thick bunches for the house all over the American Southwest) and plenty, plenty of cacti, all with impressive thornage (I doubt that's a word but it fits here). The day- as were all my days in Mendoza, brilliantly blue, no jacket needed. Sunscreen and a hat and sunglasses, absolutely.
Diego toured me around what was once a near palace of an estancia replete with a large (empty) pool and an asado big enough for a restaurant. The central area included a circle of very tall poplars, what was once the best place to sit and eat.
From there we rode through hills, up narrow ridges, down into gullies which required one good jump, and made our way to the second estancia. That was supposed to be lunch, but with nobody home, we kept riding. Most of the ride is a quick walk, a little trotting, but conditions don't allow for fast paced movement with so much volcanic rock and plenty of places for the horses to trip.
Somewhere around 4 pm we arrived at the second ranch, which was our spot for the night. We unsaddled and washed the horses, and soon they were laying into a wonderful meal of sweet hay. Diego immediately went to work in the kitchen and within minutes the aroma of cooking onions and eggs wafted out. There was plenty of activity in the second building where two others on his staff were preparing for the evening's sunset barbeque.
In no time flat, Diego and I had a long table set up in the waning light, and we had a perfect view of Mendoza as we sat down to his egg concoction, a big platter of fruit and much more. Lunch at 4 pm and we were famished- the egg mix was yummy and the bananas and mandarins disappeared quickly. In the distance Diego pointed out the long conga line of riders who would soon be joining us for the dinner, which was cooking in the next building.
I had rented a big generous -15 sleeping back for 160 pesos for two days, and it tumbled out of its bag looking like serious warmth. Over Mendoza, the almost full moon rose as the riders came it at a gallop and dismounted. All the horses were secured, and, as soon as they were set free, quietly walked all the way back to the first ranch to be fed and put in their corral.
The dinner was cooking inside over a bright fire and ready as soon as everyone else was- beef of course, and a lemon chicken that Diego had for me as well as eggs cupped in peppers. I tucked away a big fat chicken leg and a pepper cup, and sat with the others while Diego sang some lovely songs in Spanish.
However when it came time for singalong in English, I stepped outside, where the moon shadows and relatively mild night were perfect to revisit the horses and cuddle the very tired dog, Calcho, who had been running with us all day.
Early morning was a bit cooler but not by much, and it incites a quick walk to the facilities, which we had to flush using a big green bucket. Still, everything was clean and well kept, and the occasional plumbing challenge is no big deal. Better than a thorn bush.
Diego and I were up very early and making food for lunch.I created a big fruit salad for breakfast, we had plenty of yogurt, and Diego was cooking up a huge pan of zucchini, onions, eggs and some other ingredients..didn't ask but boy did I eat. In no time flat we were saddled up and headed for the high country.
At about 1 pm, after a huge (omg delicious!)lunch at a spring where the horses took a well-deserved, saddle- and bridle-free break, we took a 20 minute snooze in the sunshine. We repositioned the saddles far forward for the trip over the pass, and headed off.
This pass is not for the timid. You go what feels like straight up, the horses working very hard, up very narrow switchback trails. Periodically we'd rest the horses and let them catch their breath. This was something else I valued, Diego was most concerned for both the comfort and safety of his animals, and after having seen a gaucho beat his horse about the head and eyes and call it "training," I valued this kind of care. At each viewpoint we stopped for a photo, not easy to take when you are fully engaged with a heaving animal and watching for big rocks on the trail.
At last we reached the summit, which gave us a view of Mendoza far in the distance (and above the ever-present smog), and also a bit of a view towards neighboring Chile. After a few more rests, the hard work was mostly over for the horses, and then came the descent to the valley, where we could see another famous ranch Diego called Rock House.
Descending from a height like this can be exhilarating, or you can glue your eyes shut and let the horse find its way. Anyone who ever saw the 1983 or 84 Aussie film "Man from Snow River" might recall when Jim and his horse hurtle down the mountain after the brumbies (wild horses), and this is about the position you're in on the horse- you lean way, way back. Yah it's fun. And it's also very very very good to get on level ground again. My horse had been born in this territory and had the stability and agility of a mountain goat; he picked his way with great care. In fact I found it interesting that he tended to stumble more on road rocks than in those high, precarious areas. A great horse for this kind of riding.
The ride home was down a long, winding road. Quite often, sitting in the middle of one lane (it occasionally had two), was a massive boulder. This is not scree we're talking here. This is a boulder that would definitely put you and your car in that highway in the sky should you be so unlucky as to be beneath it when it calved from the mountain. Very sobering. About two years ago a Denver woman was dispatched to her Maker when a boulder of this kind of size landed on her little blue car during a pleasant day of driving in the Rockies. Always a good thing to remember that mountains are anything but static. Still up here I'd rather be on a horse.
The shadows grew long and the violet began to rise as Diego and turned in our last mile towards the second ranch. In the east, a perfect full moon rose majestically, and we picked our way in the early evening light as the moon rose higher.
We had a final very short gallop into the ranch where the night's sunset ride hostellers were tucking away their wine. Diego and I dismounted (oh my knees) and secured our animals, and off they went for more hay and a corral to roll in.
By this time we'd been in the saddle for nine hours with a lunch break, and a couple of dismountings along the way over the pass. Diego and I both have a slightly bum left knee and we laughed about the length of day. I thanked him for his ongoing coaching on my riding skills and paid up, and with a camera full of pictures - include a classic shot of Diego riding ahead with that full moon riding over his silhouette, I was taken home.
And about that camera. Well, there's a story about that camera. The night before I was to go riding, I had come home late and happily tired from skydiving. I was rushing around to put together two small bags for the two day trip. In my shoulder saddle back I put my camera. Thought -was SURE- I put my camera. You can see what's coming.
So I go sit in the cucina and do my post for the skydiving and when I get back, I see the saddlebag lying a different position from what I remember. And, to boot, there's no camera. Well, I look. And I look. I tear apart the whole bloody backpack, check under the bed, retrace my steps. Yeah well no trace of the camera, so by now I'm recalling what the Lonely Planet said about problems with theft. I talk to the receptionist, other people, furtively check around the room. Nada. Well crap. I'll have to file a report when I get back.
So word gets around fast when there's a theft at a hostel because we're all in close quarters and most of us (I try not to) leave valuables out on the bed. People commiserate. Too bad they say, the pictures. I'm annoyed, but figure I'll have to make do.
The next morning at about 7 I'm up and putting on my clothing. I pull my riding boots out from under the bunk bed and stick my left foot in. Way way way down in the toe- and for the life of me I cannot explain how it got there except for Angie's dwarves- is the damned camera. First I'm glad, then I feel like a horses's patootie, and I know that this is going to be another one of those stories, and I have to tell the staff so they know that the hostel is perfectly okay. Because it most assuredly is, and of course I never, ever have a senior moment. Not me. Righteo.
So I will give Las Pingos five stars, for while I realize that to get that kind of attention from Diego you have to pony up (parn' the pun) an additional 750 pesos, it is both well earned and well spent. The typical two day ride for two people is $1500 AR. I am now convinced that most gauchos are pretty darn good cooks (who knows, my experience is so limited). Diego went out of his way to make sure we were loaded for bear with my basics.
And one final note. For those of us who reside in cities, and who long for a little quietude, this is just the thing. The entire second day we hardly spoke at all, other than to discuss the horses' needs or when we took a break. There was a perfectly companionable silence, which I yearn for. I suspect Diego appreciates it once in a while too, based on our conversations. The mountains provide a sheep dip in the kind of silence that allows you to get in touch with parts of you that may not get visited enough. And that, to my mind, is priceless.
Tomorrow, I am going to be reeducated under the able sharp eyes of the folks at Calbagatas Al Par, and they will attempt to correct the last three weeks' worth of corrections, province by province. Today is a day to write and wash laundry and stretch some well-worked muscles.
My thought here, is that after all the experiences I've had so far the two that I had which involved the hiring of a personal guide for two days and a fairly remote overnight stay far, far outweigh other riding options. This again comes from someone who came here with riding as a priority. The quality varies a lot, but usually people have been responsive when I say I have experience, but as with anything else, nothing beats watching someone stay on a full out fun, and coming to a stop without going flying into a puddle. Here, and I appreciate this, with such a deep and rich culture of horsemanship, respect is earned. It's part of what makes me want to return and do much more, and this time on the Pampas and many other places I've not yet explored.
I would be most eager to hear from expert Argentinean travelers who have good knowledge of this subject because I will, although not as soon as AVRooster keeps telling me to, come back. There is so much yet to see and your advice is most welcomed, to help me plan a second time around.
By the way, I do so value input on other countries, Laos and Cambodia are in the future, as are Zambia and Portugal,and Eastern Europe. As this is the first time I've written for Fodor's it's given me a chance to get a taste of the level of expertise out there so I'm eager to hear much more.
In the meantime, after my thermals get a much needed soaping down, I hear there's a party going on down the street.
The report on Diego and Los Pingos is terrific- again, the hostel offers sunset rides each night to the same place where I overnighted, and you eat like a king and sing Baby Boomer songs around the fireplace. And everyone, always, drinks wine as though the jug is about to go empty. All in good fun.
However, if you are a rider and you seriously want a slightly epic experience, I found Diego to be delighted to take me out for 2 days solo ($2250 AR), for which I was quite happy to pay when I had finally slid like a sack of potatoes to the ground after 9 hours the second day.
Not only did Diego kindly squire me around to find what I was searching for in Mendoza as previously reported, I found him to be multi-talented in other areas: he's one hell of a great cook even when you remove carne from the menu, and he's got a beautiful voice especially when he sings in his own tongue, and stays away from Baby Boomer classics.
The drive to the first ranch was pretty short and our horses were ready to go. We loaded up, and started down the road. To my delight, as soon as we hit some smooth open road, he took off like a shot at full gallop. My horse was nowhere near as fast, but we skidded to a stop mostly together. What I appreciated about this was that Diego was- and I frankly don't blame him- seeing whether my money was where my mouth was about being able to ride. Since I did not approach him hanging onto the saddle with the reins flying in all directions, he was happy enough. The other thing I so appreciated about time with Diego is that I asked for, and got, plenty of education about how to saddle up, the system of cinching, and many other aspects that are so often done for you by other gauchos.
Diego pointed out far distant poplars and some green trees, which were our initial destinations for the day, before the final overnight at the second ranch. Riding takes you through scrub brush, weaving constantly in and out of the thorn bushes which are here nowhere as thick as I've seen elsewhere. They are replaced by sage (lovely if you've never smelled it, collected and sold in thick bunches for the house all over the American Southwest) and plenty, plenty of cacti, all with impressive thornage (I doubt that's a word but it fits here). The day- as were all my days in Mendoza, brilliantly blue, no jacket needed. Sunscreen and a hat and sunglasses, absolutely.
Diego toured me around what was once a near palace of an estancia replete with a large (empty) pool and an asado big enough for a restaurant. The central area included a circle of very tall poplars, what was once the best place to sit and eat.
From there we rode through hills, up narrow ridges, down into gullies which required one good jump, and made our way to the second estancia. That was supposed to be lunch, but with nobody home, we kept riding. Most of the ride is a quick walk, a little trotting, but conditions don't allow for fast paced movement with so much volcanic rock and plenty of places for the horses to trip.
Somewhere around 4 pm we arrived at the second ranch, which was our spot for the night. We unsaddled and washed the horses, and soon they were laying into a wonderful meal of sweet hay. Diego immediately went to work in the kitchen and within minutes the aroma of cooking onions and eggs wafted out. There was plenty of activity in the second building where two others on his staff were preparing for the evening's sunset barbeque.
In no time flat, Diego and I had a long table set up in the waning light, and we had a perfect view of Mendoza as we sat down to his egg concoction, a big platter of fruit and much more. Lunch at 4 pm and we were famished- the egg mix was yummy and the bananas and mandarins disappeared quickly. In the distance Diego pointed out the long conga line of riders who would soon be joining us for the dinner, which was cooking in the next building.
I had rented a big generous -15 sleeping back for 160 pesos for two days, and it tumbled out of its bag looking like serious warmth. Over Mendoza, the almost full moon rose as the riders came it at a gallop and dismounted. All the horses were secured, and, as soon as they were set free, quietly walked all the way back to the first ranch to be fed and put in their corral.
The dinner was cooking inside over a bright fire and ready as soon as everyone else was- beef of course, and a lemon chicken that Diego had for me as well as eggs cupped in peppers. I tucked away a big fat chicken leg and a pepper cup, and sat with the others while Diego sang some lovely songs in Spanish.
However when it came time for singalong in English, I stepped outside, where the moon shadows and relatively mild night were perfect to revisit the horses and cuddle the very tired dog, Calcho, who had been running with us all day.
Early morning was a bit cooler but not by much, and it incites a quick walk to the facilities, which we had to flush using a big green bucket. Still, everything was clean and well kept, and the occasional plumbing challenge is no big deal. Better than a thorn bush.
Diego and I were up very early and making food for lunch.I created a big fruit salad for breakfast, we had plenty of yogurt, and Diego was cooking up a huge pan of zucchini, onions, eggs and some other ingredients..didn't ask but boy did I eat. In no time flat we were saddled up and headed for the high country.
At about 1 pm, after a huge (omg delicious!)lunch at a spring where the horses took a well-deserved, saddle- and bridle-free break, we took a 20 minute snooze in the sunshine. We repositioned the saddles far forward for the trip over the pass, and headed off.
This pass is not for the timid. You go what feels like straight up, the horses working very hard, up very narrow switchback trails. Periodically we'd rest the horses and let them catch their breath. This was something else I valued, Diego was most concerned for both the comfort and safety of his animals, and after having seen a gaucho beat his horse about the head and eyes and call it "training," I valued this kind of care. At each viewpoint we stopped for a photo, not easy to take when you are fully engaged with a heaving animal and watching for big rocks on the trail.
At last we reached the summit, which gave us a view of Mendoza far in the distance (and above the ever-present smog), and also a bit of a view towards neighboring Chile. After a few more rests, the hard work was mostly over for the horses, and then came the descent to the valley, where we could see another famous ranch Diego called Rock House.
Descending from a height like this can be exhilarating, or you can glue your eyes shut and let the horse find its way. Anyone who ever saw the 1983 or 84 Aussie film "Man from Snow River" might recall when Jim and his horse hurtle down the mountain after the brumbies (wild horses), and this is about the position you're in on the horse- you lean way, way back. Yah it's fun. And it's also very very very good to get on level ground again. My horse had been born in this territory and had the stability and agility of a mountain goat; he picked his way with great care. In fact I found it interesting that he tended to stumble more on road rocks than in those high, precarious areas. A great horse for this kind of riding.
The ride home was down a long, winding road. Quite often, sitting in the middle of one lane (it occasionally had two), was a massive boulder. This is not scree we're talking here. This is a boulder that would definitely put you and your car in that highway in the sky should you be so unlucky as to be beneath it when it calved from the mountain. Very sobering. About two years ago a Denver woman was dispatched to her Maker when a boulder of this kind of size landed on her little blue car during a pleasant day of driving in the Rockies. Always a good thing to remember that mountains are anything but static. Still up here I'd rather be on a horse.
The shadows grew long and the violet began to rise as Diego and turned in our last mile towards the second ranch. In the east, a perfect full moon rose majestically, and we picked our way in the early evening light as the moon rose higher.
We had a final very short gallop into the ranch where the night's sunset ride hostellers were tucking away their wine. Diego and I dismounted (oh my knees) and secured our animals, and off they went for more hay and a corral to roll in.
By this time we'd been in the saddle for nine hours with a lunch break, and a couple of dismountings along the way over the pass. Diego and I both have a slightly bum left knee and we laughed about the length of day. I thanked him for his ongoing coaching on my riding skills and paid up, and with a camera full of pictures - include a classic shot of Diego riding ahead with that full moon riding over his silhouette, I was taken home.
And about that camera. Well, there's a story about that camera. The night before I was to go riding, I had come home late and happily tired from skydiving. I was rushing around to put together two small bags for the two day trip. In my shoulder saddle back I put my camera. Thought -was SURE- I put my camera. You can see what's coming.
So I go sit in the cucina and do my post for the skydiving and when I get back, I see the saddlebag lying a different position from what I remember. And, to boot, there's no camera. Well, I look. And I look. I tear apart the whole bloody backpack, check under the bed, retrace my steps. Yeah well no trace of the camera, so by now I'm recalling what the Lonely Planet said about problems with theft. I talk to the receptionist, other people, furtively check around the room. Nada. Well crap. I'll have to file a report when I get back.
So word gets around fast when there's a theft at a hostel because we're all in close quarters and most of us (I try not to) leave valuables out on the bed. People commiserate. Too bad they say, the pictures. I'm annoyed, but figure I'll have to make do.
The next morning at about 7 I'm up and putting on my clothing. I pull my riding boots out from under the bunk bed and stick my left foot in. Way way way down in the toe- and for the life of me I cannot explain how it got there except for Angie's dwarves- is the damned camera. First I'm glad, then I feel like a horses's patootie, and I know that this is going to be another one of those stories, and I have to tell the staff so they know that the hostel is perfectly okay. Because it most assuredly is, and of course I never, ever have a senior moment. Not me. Righteo.
So I will give Las Pingos five stars, for while I realize that to get that kind of attention from Diego you have to pony up (parn' the pun) an additional 750 pesos, it is both well earned and well spent. The typical two day ride for two people is $1500 AR. I am now convinced that most gauchos are pretty darn good cooks (who knows, my experience is so limited). Diego went out of his way to make sure we were loaded for bear with my basics.
And one final note. For those of us who reside in cities, and who long for a little quietude, this is just the thing. The entire second day we hardly spoke at all, other than to discuss the horses' needs or when we took a break. There was a perfectly companionable silence, which I yearn for. I suspect Diego appreciates it once in a while too, based on our conversations. The mountains provide a sheep dip in the kind of silence that allows you to get in touch with parts of you that may not get visited enough. And that, to my mind, is priceless.
Tomorrow, I am going to be reeducated under the able sharp eyes of the folks at Calbagatas Al Par, and they will attempt to correct the last three weeks' worth of corrections, province by province. Today is a day to write and wash laundry and stretch some well-worked muscles.
My thought here, is that after all the experiences I've had so far the two that I had which involved the hiring of a personal guide for two days and a fairly remote overnight stay far, far outweigh other riding options. This again comes from someone who came here with riding as a priority. The quality varies a lot, but usually people have been responsive when I say I have experience, but as with anything else, nothing beats watching someone stay on a full out fun, and coming to a stop without going flying into a puddle. Here, and I appreciate this, with such a deep and rich culture of horsemanship, respect is earned. It's part of what makes me want to return and do much more, and this time on the Pampas and many other places I've not yet explored.
I would be most eager to hear from expert Argentinean travelers who have good knowledge of this subject because I will, although not as soon as AVRooster keeps telling me to, come back. There is so much yet to see and your advice is most welcomed, to help me plan a second time around.
By the way, I do so value input on other countries, Laos and Cambodia are in the future, as are Zambia and Portugal,and Eastern Europe. As this is the first time I've written for Fodor's it's given me a chance to get a taste of the level of expertise out there so I'm eager to hear much more.
In the meantime, after my thermals get a much needed soaping down, I hear there's a party going on down the street.
May 25th, 2013, 08:09 AM
#68
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Ok, let's see:
I few days ago, I recollect asking what are you going to "lose" next? LOL!!!! Now we know.... What's next?
It's great that Diego was "terrific". Now, the cost was about 250 dollars for two days of riding, food lodging, etc., just you and the guide If other people had been along, it would have cost you about 170 dollars.
Would someone please tell me how much that would cost in the US?
What are people waiting for to come down here?
I'm being called for lunch. More comments later.
I few days ago, I recollect asking what are you going to "lose" next? LOL!!!! Now we know.... What's next?
It's great that Diego was "terrific". Now, the cost was about 250 dollars for two days of riding, food lodging, etc., just you and the guide If other people had been along, it would have cost you about 170 dollars.
Would someone please tell me how much that would cost in the US?
What are people waiting for to come down here?
I'm being called for lunch. More comments later.
May 25th, 2013, 08:22 AM
#69
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Thursdays, you're right, not for everyone, which is why it's great to inquire with Diego about skill level and all his options, which are many. He takes groups, doubles, just about everything, and thanks for the reminder to make than mention.
A note- after just washing the thermal top from North Face which has done yeoman's duty on this trip (along with a wool mix from REI, also very good), I was reminded of why my mother insisted on hosing me down before letting me come in the house after riding my horse. It took an embarrassing number of washes and rinses to get all that dirt out.
A note- after just washing the thermal top from North Face which has done yeoman's duty on this trip (along with a wool mix from REI, also very good), I was reminded of why my mother insisted on hosing me down before letting me come in the house after riding my horse. It took an embarrassing number of washes and rinses to get all that dirt out.
May 25th, 2013, 08:55 AM
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AVRooster, it is such a good deal, all things considered, that I think it's crazy there isn't a flock of tourists headed down here. These two days were much less than Bariloche and easily as good. Besides, places like Iguazu and the Angie trips are so full of color and life and beauty that once you're here you can't stop.
Since I have not used guided riding facilities in the States, all I know is a little research I did when searching for a stable close to me. What I saw on the Internet in the limited amount of time I looked were a number of dude ranches, of which there are many good ones in the West. It seemed that the average weekly commitment was in the $3000-6000 US range (and of course much much more), which makes doing in the US vs coming down here a no brainer in my mind. Of course, the facilities are going to be very different. But as thursdaysd pointed out it all comes down to the type of riding experience you want. If it's the ambiance, nice overnight facilities and beautiful food, and the horses are perhaps simply a part of the overall experience, that's one thing. But then you've got folks who want to sleep outside, pull a few snakes out of the backpack in the morning and they like their horses to be the main event. While I still prefer even a dusty old bunk and some warmth at night, it seems to me that Argentina is well placed to cater to everyone. I've only had five experiences so far which makes me, as the thread says, a beginner. In the meantime I'm incredibly grateful to find someone like Diego who will do what he does for what he charges and consider myself blessed.
Also in the States there are all kinds of liability issues, and the insurance is part of the reason everything that's got the word "adventure" in it is so expensive. To paraglide tandem in Colorado, when I checked after Ecuador in 2012, was about four hundred bucks. Balance that against about sixty here, and I'll do it here anytime. Skydiving is pricey anywhere, because of fuel costs as well, so there's not a lot of difference in tandem pricing. What is so wonderful about here is that you can walk up to a counter and in a few minutes your entire week is full of amazing activities and you haven't spend nearly the dime you would in America. So it's not just the state of the peso, the prices are just fantastic.
I vote for more people to take a serious look. 'Course there are travelers who love Argentina the way it is, or was, and don't want any more touristas to ruin the secret. It recalls Colorado, when I moved there in '79, so many folks wanted people to stay away. Well, everyone who comes to Colorado and finds out it doesn't snow all year gets hooked and wants to slam the door on the next guy, before he brings his friends and neighbors. Happened long before I got there and will continue. We love our secret places. And thanks to this forum, most everyone is kind enough to share them.
Since I have not used guided riding facilities in the States, all I know is a little research I did when searching for a stable close to me. What I saw on the Internet in the limited amount of time I looked were a number of dude ranches, of which there are many good ones in the West. It seemed that the average weekly commitment was in the $3000-6000 US range (and of course much much more), which makes doing in the US vs coming down here a no brainer in my mind. Of course, the facilities are going to be very different. But as thursdaysd pointed out it all comes down to the type of riding experience you want. If it's the ambiance, nice overnight facilities and beautiful food, and the horses are perhaps simply a part of the overall experience, that's one thing. But then you've got folks who want to sleep outside, pull a few snakes out of the backpack in the morning and they like their horses to be the main event. While I still prefer even a dusty old bunk and some warmth at night, it seems to me that Argentina is well placed to cater to everyone. I've only had five experiences so far which makes me, as the thread says, a beginner. In the meantime I'm incredibly grateful to find someone like Diego who will do what he does for what he charges and consider myself blessed.
Also in the States there are all kinds of liability issues, and the insurance is part of the reason everything that's got the word "adventure" in it is so expensive. To paraglide tandem in Colorado, when I checked after Ecuador in 2012, was about four hundred bucks. Balance that against about sixty here, and I'll do it here anytime. Skydiving is pricey anywhere, because of fuel costs as well, so there's not a lot of difference in tandem pricing. What is so wonderful about here is that you can walk up to a counter and in a few minutes your entire week is full of amazing activities and you haven't spend nearly the dime you would in America. So it's not just the state of the peso, the prices are just fantastic.
I vote for more people to take a serious look. 'Course there are travelers who love Argentina the way it is, or was, and don't want any more touristas to ruin the secret. It recalls Colorado, when I moved there in '79, so many folks wanted people to stay away. Well, everyone who comes to Colorado and finds out it doesn't snow all year gets hooked and wants to slam the door on the next guy, before he brings his friends and neighbors. Happened long before I got there and will continue. We love our secret places. And thanks to this forum, most everyone is kind enough to share them.
May 25th, 2013, 09:07 AM
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Forget about other countries. Come visit our South, during our summer, just not on January, when it is full of Argentines. LOL!!!
About your "I hear there's a party going on down the street."
Our government is celebrating 10 years in power. That's what the party is for.
I feel it should be of interest for knowledgeable tourists.
One thing you need to know: all the people who will be at the party were taken there by the government. In one way or another, they are being paid to be there.
Our dear president is scheduled to address the "descamisados" at 8.30 PM. In the meantime, so these worthies are not bored, famous artists will perform.
http://www.buenosairesherald.com/art...-demonstration
Have a great time in our country. Well, that's exactly what you are having, right?
About your "I hear there's a party going on down the street."
Our government is celebrating 10 years in power. That's what the party is for.
I feel it should be of interest for knowledgeable tourists.
One thing you need to know: all the people who will be at the party were taken there by the government. In one way or another, they are being paid to be there.
Our dear president is scheduled to address the "descamisados" at 8.30 PM. In the meantime, so these worthies are not bored, famous artists will perform.
http://www.buenosairesherald.com/art...-demonstration
Have a great time in our country. Well, that's exactly what you are having, right?
May 25th, 2013, 09:57 AM
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https://www.facebook.com/search/web/...eaheadResults=[]&qh=371236349598460
That's what I got- although putting in Los Pingos, Mendoza on Facebook is a lot easier. This is apparently what they use.
That's what I got- although putting in Los Pingos, Mendoza on Facebook is a lot easier. This is apparently what they use.
May 25th, 2013, 10:29 AM
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AVRooster, the biggest problem I'm going to have is when security has to clip off my fingers to be able to close the aircraft door as I am clawing my way back out to stay.
Well from here there is considerable firework activity, which is fine, and there are lots of people marching with Evita signs, and lots of people marching with all kinds of signs, and I've decided that perhaps I'm better off finishing my laundry and making sure I know where to be tomorrow. I am just grateful to the very kind-eyed man in his later years whose panaderia featured two salads with chicken, which I cleaned for him, and he expressed himself very eloquently by saying he was happy for me to be in his store and his country.
I do wish to make a note here about a serious incident which happened in Mendoza while I was there. A young tourist related that she was with a small group of foreigners heading from the city center back to the hostel. Following them for some blocks was a large (10-12) group of teen boys, who fell on them just short of the hostel. The male tourist in the group was beaten badly and landed in hospital, all lost passports, money and cameras. Most felt that the loss of the cameras was more impactful for irreplaceable memories. Mendoza is a nighttime town and that provides prime hunting for some teens who are seeking happy high tourists who aren't paying attention.
My guess, being a beginner on Fodor's, is that there are countless threads on personal safety. Read them. Just do it.
A habit I got into years ago on the road was to walk fast, with a strong purposeful stride, like you mean no monkey business and know where the hell you're going. Somebody gave me that advice very young and it's tended to work. Probably someone who was already writing travel material forty years ago. But it's damned sage advice for women. Men too, but especially for women.
Well from here there is considerable firework activity, which is fine, and there are lots of people marching with Evita signs, and lots of people marching with all kinds of signs, and I've decided that perhaps I'm better off finishing my laundry and making sure I know where to be tomorrow. I am just grateful to the very kind-eyed man in his later years whose panaderia featured two salads with chicken, which I cleaned for him, and he expressed himself very eloquently by saying he was happy for me to be in his store and his country.
I do wish to make a note here about a serious incident which happened in Mendoza while I was there. A young tourist related that she was with a small group of foreigners heading from the city center back to the hostel. Following them for some blocks was a large (10-12) group of teen boys, who fell on them just short of the hostel. The male tourist in the group was beaten badly and landed in hospital, all lost passports, money and cameras. Most felt that the loss of the cameras was more impactful for irreplaceable memories. Mendoza is a nighttime town and that provides prime hunting for some teens who are seeking happy high tourists who aren't paying attention.
My guess, being a beginner on Fodor's, is that there are countless threads on personal safety. Read them. Just do it.
A habit I got into years ago on the road was to walk fast, with a strong purposeful stride, like you mean no monkey business and know where the hell you're going. Somebody gave me that advice very young and it's tended to work. Probably someone who was already writing travel material forty years ago. But it's damned sage advice for women. Men too, but especially for women.
May 25th, 2013, 11:59 AM
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I forgot to pass along a bit of an observation which goes back to Salta, and one of other traveling companions on a tour who shall remain unidentified. He is from Europe, lives now in a major European city. During a conversation with a guide, he flatly commented "Nothing much impresses me." He went on to say that he had been here,there, the Taj Mahal, and so what, it looks just like the picture. Not impressed.
I was floored. I dunno about anyone else on here but I suspect that the majority of us still are invested in a sense of wonder, which is the fundamental driver, along with great curiosity, for international travel.
I came away with two impressions. First, how sad. How sad to be so pleased with one's opinion that a Grand Canyon or a Taj Mahal doesn't inspire a certain amount of pure whitehot joy.
The other was the - and excuse my opinion- pure arrogance of the statement.I got the distinct impression you could put this person on the next flight to Mars and he wouldn't admit to being impressed. He'd probably shrug and say, "Looks just the photos from the Hubbell telescope."
What I love about travelers, from anywhere doing much of anything, is what tends to characterize the majority- we can't see, learn, experience ENOUGH. What puts our patooties on endless airplane rides is the sense of being put in a new place, experience ourselves in a new way, eat new food (most of you can anyway) or in some way push our your boundaries. Or the comfort of returning to a beloved destination and see what you can learn anew about it while basking in the familiar. Everyone has delights they chase.
So this guy has his own world, which I suppose impresses him. But it seems a little disrespectful to denigrade the very things that thousands of people flock to see for good reason. Here's a guide working hard to show you the best he can present and it's pooh pooh. Let's toss him over Iguazu and see if he's impressed yet. Hey, but that's me. I'm impressed if I can find both my socks in the morning. Or my keys, my camera, my knife, ten thousand pesos. Damned dwarves.
I was floored. I dunno about anyone else on here but I suspect that the majority of us still are invested in a sense of wonder, which is the fundamental driver, along with great curiosity, for international travel.
I came away with two impressions. First, how sad. How sad to be so pleased with one's opinion that a Grand Canyon or a Taj Mahal doesn't inspire a certain amount of pure whitehot joy.
The other was the - and excuse my opinion- pure arrogance of the statement.I got the distinct impression you could put this person on the next flight to Mars and he wouldn't admit to being impressed. He'd probably shrug and say, "Looks just the photos from the Hubbell telescope."
What I love about travelers, from anywhere doing much of anything, is what tends to characterize the majority- we can't see, learn, experience ENOUGH. What puts our patooties on endless airplane rides is the sense of being put in a new place, experience ourselves in a new way, eat new food (most of you can anyway) or in some way push our your boundaries. Or the comfort of returning to a beloved destination and see what you can learn anew about it while basking in the familiar. Everyone has delights they chase.
So this guy has his own world, which I suppose impresses him. But it seems a little disrespectful to denigrade the very things that thousands of people flock to see for good reason. Here's a guide working hard to show you the best he can present and it's pooh pooh. Let's toss him over Iguazu and see if he's impressed yet. Hey, but that's me. I'm impressed if I can find both my socks in the morning. Or my keys, my camera, my knife, ten thousand pesos. Damned dwarves.
