The Life & Death of a Melancholy Mind, Buenos Aires

Why HI!! Every now and then, ones direction through life becomes a little hazy. You may begin to ask yourself a lot of impossible to answer questions. I often wonder what this world is all about. Sometimes I wish I could simply cruise through the motions as complacently as my younger brother seemingly does. On other days I'm glad my twitchyness & agitism never lets me lose that next step nerve. Yet right now I believe that barrier which has so often blocked me from a boring existence is broken. I'm acting well cooked. I've thrown myself into the frying pan, and I'm not too sure how to scamper back out. Closing in recently on the big one year mark sure hasn't done my poor head any favours. Last Thursday I rolled on into Buenos Aires (my supposed ultimate South Americandestination) with a plan scooting along in fine fashionable form. Now I can't seem to get a grip on what to do next. I want nothing more than to avoid becoming some haggard unappreciative forever-wandering twat, but things have become totally jaded. Half way through last year, I hurriedly organised (without much of an insight) to get my bitchin' bootie off this continent by the end of February; in theory after one final showdown in Rio de Janeiro for Carnival. At the time I guess I was caught in a kind of disillusionment. The money sure disappeared much faster than I would have liked, and the practise of finding work in Europe was turning out to be a lot more complicated than I obviously first thought. Also, I never ended up running into some smokin' hot Brazilian babe who was willing to have some scummer sleep on her couch for that one riotous week - Carnival too it seemed would have to wait. So when revising my situation during a fresh stint of ghastly hungoverness, I made the sporadic decision to chuck all my fortified plans out the window, only to create for myself some new ludicrous fantastical visionary adventure. I won't be hopping onto that plane (why the hell not??). I won't be visiting a lot of wonderful friends (are you nuts??). Instead I'll probably end up contacting malaria somewhere out on The Amazon River. The drive behind all this (and how long will that last for)?? - I'm still not quite sure. However if it manages to mend this dented soul, it may be all for the best. Yeaaa?? Huh?? I really hope so...

The 67 meter Obelisk in Buenos Aires

("So, if you really took a punt on all that previously stated crap, you may be soon losing a fair chunk of money. The past week has proven without a doubt that there are a bunch of evil Kremlings running a dysfunctional roller coaster through the delicacies of my brain. However all will be revealed later along in the piece; for now we must return to the first instalment...")

Wellll now. How to begin after that rant?? - pampas, pampas & MORE pampas!!...I was super excited on my initial arrival into Buenos Aires. The fabled Argentine capital, said to be reminiscent in many ways to Paris, gradually blurred its way into existence as I woke from a long overnight haul from Puerto Madryn. I disembarked, collected my ever diminishing luggage from beneath the coach, and stretched my legs with a bit of a strategised meander through the surrounding streets. The city was beautiful, I have to say. Busy business complexes were elegantly decorated with shady trees, and the many peaceful parks & plazas provided a much welcome escape from general every day urban living. Place this with the fact that the women here were the hottest things I'd seen in the entirety of Latin America. I felt like a common criminal hidden behind my dark shades. I couldn't help but turn my head in astonishment at every corner and at more in between. Goldilocks had warned me. I will never doubt his wisdom ever again. The only shit thing I could figure, was the fact I had no place to plonk this weary head of mine. In truth, I'd kind of forgotten all about it. I'd survived rocking up in Mexico City at 1 o'clock in the morning, fresh faced & unseasoned, with little more than a pathetic plan to crash out on a restaurant table - and since that fateful day, I've simply assumed all other situations would play out like a pre-informed game of rock, paper, scissors. I wish those New Zealand  girls were still around; they treated me in a much preferred fashion than what I got stuck with this time around. As far as the Internet was telling me, Buenos Aires was booked out!! What!!?? That can't be right. In hindsight I should probably learn to use HostelBookers a bit better. I freaked out, lost my cool, & ended up in some dive, stuck chatting with a fat Finnish homosexual. What is it with gays pouring out their heart & soul to me?? It always seems to happen!! I instantly regretted paying for two nights accommodation straight up, and couldn't wait to get my party on with me Swede. Hurry up girl!! Save me from such gloom!!

A park in Recoleta

I got up & out of there as early as I could the following morning. That's the thing with hostels at the end of the day, they are merely just a place to crash - you shouldn't be spending too much time there anyhow. I assumed the best way to get a quick overall glimpse of the city would be to buy a ticket for the tourist bus, which does a big loop of all the main attractions. By midday, it was boiling up on roof deck; it must have been peaking at around 40 degrees in the sun. But once it got moving the breeze took the edge off those harsh rays, and it was quite relaxing getting about without having to do too much thinking. I hopped off at the famous football stadium in the barrio of La Boca, before wandering along to the brightly pastel coloured streets around the Caminito. The whole area had a pretty funky vibe about it, with plenty of live music & street performers. However it didn't take long to reach the limits of the touristic complex. La Boca is also one of Buenos Aires' poorest suburbs, and browsing a few blocks in any one direction places you back in the reality. Many people sleep on the streets, and I encountered a bunch of folk even digging through the trash for food scraps. You begin to realise that your 'problems' are nothing more than small inconveniences.

The Caminito, La Boca

Later on that afternoon I felt it was worth forking out a bit of extra cash for a pair of jeans. Buenos Aires' nightlife is notorious, and it would be a disaster to miss it on account of my notoriously lousy attire. I had no idea where the best place might be to look, so I took a stroll along the well known pedestrianised shopping street, Calle Florida. All I could decipher from the mayhem was the "cambio, cambio" calls coming from the black market money changers who plague the thoroughfare; nothing else really appealed to me. I hate shopping at the best of times, even more so when I don't know where to look. After half an hour or so, I still couldn't find any jeans that took my fancy, so I bit my pride & stormed into the chicks clothes section of a Myer like department store. When I eventually placed a pair of black skinnies on the counter, the attendant looked at me as if I were retarded. "Estos son para mujeres..." - Yea!! No shit you wanker...I just wanna pay & get the hell out of here as fast as I can in all honesty. I rolled the dice, payed the price & done the dash back to hide in my hostel. A renewed encounter with the Finnish dude topped me off the scale. If it wasn't for my SwedishSweetheart coming to the rescue at the last possible moment, I think I would have put my head through the television. It was soooo good to see her!! We'd met in Colombia like seven months ago, and she'd gone home & now returned in between!! Maybe I had been away too long?? This was a kind of strange scenario. Either way, we had to celebrate - so we escaped the wrath of my whimsical pal (what an excuse thank fuck!!), and made for the nearest bar we could find to guzzle down pints of beer & cheap bottles of wine.

The nights in Buenos Aires are scorchers. It'd been a while since I hadn't had to use a blanket. It'd been even longer since I was grateful for a freezing cold shower in the morning. I'd decided to check into Milhouse Hostel the next day. I was eager for a bit of a party, and this place had a wild reputation throughout the city. SwedishSweetheart checked in next door, and we made a bit of a pre-party excursion to the parks surrounding Palermo. Now...I'm starting to get a slight inclining of little wonder why the Finnish freak continued to press me. To my enduring embarrassment - we made the choice to go roller blading!! WTF!!?? For close to an hour I reckon we glided, zoomed, pranced (whatever you want to call it) around an artificial lake in one of those Palermo parks. It seemed like everyone was into it!! Even the machos. I'm not sure whether this is something to be boasting about, but I've always been ridiculously good at this 'sport' for some reason - so of course I found it quite entertaining to watch full grown men (who would normally annihilate me in a game of basketball or rugby), stumbling around out of utter anxiety, desperately clinging on to the petite hands of their wife's (who were struggling enough themselves), not so unlike a baby taking his first assistance needed steps. The other highlight was when miss Swede axed her self in a horizontal display of lank-limbness. For a brief moment I thought she'd snapped her wrists. I'm really glad she hadn't, cause I couldn't stop laughing; and somehow this allowed my hysterics to be warranted without a single mind of sympathy. Sorry kiddo. The remainder of that day was taken up by being practically spear tackled by a shirtless homeless guy, and chugging down one of the best strawberry smoothies I've ever had.

My SwedeSweetheart Roller blading!!

As the sun went down across the city for another balmy Saturday night, things began to heat back up in other ways. Actually I'm not too sure if I even waited for sun down; happy hour was on and I was stuck between the walls of a so called 'party' hostel with a bunch of tight shirt, unsociable twats. I bought two pints straight up and allowed whatever was to happen unfold. I did get chatting to a small group of people after a while, but I can't say the conversation truly intrigued me...who were these people??...and why did they come to the other side of the world to make such a shit 'sock-dance like' fiesta. We got kicked off our tables at about 10 o'clock, only to have them moved into a corner of the room to make space for a large 'dance floor' of such. I hate when they do that. I'm not going to dance when you practically force me to dance. Chill the fuck out. To make matters worse, the music they were blasting was some god awful top 10 cheese. The only way to numb the pain (or lie to myself that it wasn't so bad) was to down more pints of whatever this blue stuff was. By late night I was drunk enough not to notice it. I recall ending up out on the street with no shoes on, eating some kind of hot dog pie. Good ol' charliebrown even popped in and payed me a little visit. We hadn't crossed paths since Cusco, and I'd intended to keep it that way. But the devil tricks us easy. Soon I was in fine form, flying down the highway in some packed party van. Blllagghaarr!!! Wooo-wooot!! The club we ended up in was enormous, the biggest I think I've ever seen. There were about six or seven separate areas from memory, each with its own bar, and a huge open outside area with a stage draped in energetic near naked performers. I lost my new friends within the first few minutes. It was like being at a festival with no cell phone. I spent the majority of the night huddled in a corner, chatting & chain smoking cigarettes with this Argenite girl called Flopp. A lot of things seemed to happen. Maybe not all of them true. By the time the sun came up out over the Rio de la Plata I was well famished & ready to bail. The Argie's were only getting started by the looks of things. I pushed my way outside, hopped into a cab with a few other gringos & passed out back the hostel.

I'd missed breakfast when I finally woke back up. Of course I had. Holy crap I was feeling terrible!! I couldn't hang out here in the hostel - it was like being trapped in a pig pen. I decided it was best to go for a walk, eat some food & rehydrate. Well some good that did me. Standing on a random street intersection at the lively Sunday San Telmo markets; minding my own business, contemplating buying a maté pot...I get a tap on the shoulder from behind. Huh?? At first I'm a little more than confused. I hadn't intended on looking at anyone today. "So you got my email then?!!" It was PhilipOkles!! No way!! I hadn't checked my emails at all for like two days. I knew he lived here in the city, and I was really hoping to catch up, but this was crazy!! "DCTalk is meeting me here in like 5 minutes..." woahhh!!! I couldn't believe my luck. The three of us reunited. So bloody random!! It was a happy day. We stood around in the streets drinking beers & listening to live music, catching up on all our separate adventures. What started out as a painful seedy Sunday, turned out to be my favourite of the lot. People just kept coming up to us for a chat. We met a trapeze artist from London coming over to make the big time, watched a Paraguayan pan flute band steal the show just for fun, and played football in the park with a bunch of local kids & a scary (yet somehow sexy??) girl from Norway with unkempt hairy legs & underarms. To top it off, we went back into the centre of town for a few more quiet drinks at an outdoor restaurant. Swede tagged along, and I also got to meet DCTalk's pal from home, Bernaby. It was actually refreshing to meet someone like that. I kind of envied his enthusiasm. Having hardly ever been on a real overseas vacation before, this guy was bursting at the seams with genuine excitement. He was like a little kid on the night before Christmas. I remember when I was like that too, and it made me realise how unappreciative & unmotivated I'd become. A year on the road can take its toll, and in a way I was beginning to feel the crunch. Something soon would have to give. I had a lot to sum up I guess...

Street Performers in San Telmo

I started out by trying to fix up my visa for Brazil the following day. It didn't sound so complicated, and I had a bit of time to kill here in the city. I also thought I'd pre-arranged everything for a swift application; how wrong could I have been!! It turned into a nightmare. Once I found the consulate, I patiently waited in line to be served. The first time I reached a window I was sent to another line - another cue & another wait. This happened two or three times. When I finally made it to the correct window, the rude bitch at the counter wouldn't have a second of my attempted Spanish & began yelling at me about who knows what?? Something!! Fuck you lady!! What is it you want me to do?? I went back to the information desk & they pointed me back to her. She began yelling at me again, a spit about an 'appointment'?? That's the first I'd heard of it. How does one make this appointment?? She just started screaming at me again about how she doesn't know everything - ask someone else!! Ahhh shit...nothings ever easy when it comes to paper work. I stormed out of the building, wishing I had a bomb so I could blow the place up. An afternoon stroll around the Recoleta Cemetery, and a quick churipan fix soon had me feeling much better. It was a bit freaky staring down into some of the crypts. The coffins were sitting there in plain sight. There were dead dudes in there. Becoming a mummy hunter might be kind of cool.

The Recoleta Cemetery

Later on that night we'd all been invited over to PhilipOkles' place for dinner. Turns out he likes to cook. He put on one hell of a buffet!! Herbed potatoes, fresh salads & a ton of fine Argentine carne. His apartment was beautiful. How he bagged that place I will never know. Downstairs in the courtyard I met his Italian tango dancing flat mate Ida, who gave be a thorough rundown on the links throughout history between Italian & Buenos Airean street dancing, at least until we all retreated upstairs to the roof terrace to finish off the rest of the wine. I was coming to love this city. This was something I hadn't planned for. I had friends, comfort & countless things to keep me occupied. Maybe I should stay on for a while longer?? Europe could wait no doubt...all my confusions intensified.

Chillin' at PhilipOkles place

By the time André arrived mid week, I was already to beginning to build some kind of alternate plan for my near future. SwedishSweetheart was already booked in for two months studying Spanish; maybe I should do the same?? There was still so much left to do. The coast of Brazil, chugging up the mighty Amazon while swaying away in a hammock, a short climbing stint in the Venezuelan table-top mountains...not to mention my ever burning desire to make a grand slam return to Cusco. During one sporadic moment of yet another hungover afternoon, I made a snap decision to stay. I posted the news to my friends & family on the net as to cement this choice out of questionability. Over the next few days I made some rough plans on what I wanted to do, who I wanted to see and what I seriously wanted to gain out of this entire trip. I was still searching for adventure (or so I thought) more than anything. What better a way than to throw myself into the most dangerous areas of the continent. Maybe I could write some kind of vagabond fairytale. What if I found myself somewhere super chilled out on the Caribbean coast, diving & bar tending everyday?? I'm sure I could easily talk myself into settling down for a while. This was my newest 'problem' - I now had too many options...

...and that's when shit hit the fan all over again.

I had a weekend of sombreness to sober me up. What was I doing?!? That's the thing - NOTHING!! For the past few days I'd done nothing of note except forking out 100 bucks for Spanish classes (which I was now knew I'd never be taking), and hanging out in a park with PhilipOkles & Ida eating dry tuna sandwiches and sipping on my ever so ex-dreaded maté. My time was done here. I had a flight. I could always come back. In Europe I could actually get a job which was fun and actually payed. I'd simply be buying myself time working here. In Europe I had innumerable friends who would be willing to let me crash on their couches, or at least show me the highlights of their cities from a locals point of view. That would be unbeatable. Hell, I could learn Spanish in Spain!! It was like I awoke from a bad dream. I regretted posting my plans on the net more than anything, but I wasn't going to let my pride stand in the way of what I now knew was the right choice. Buenos Aires had been a great time; it really lightened my tainted image of the entire country, but it was time to leave. I had to come to grips with my dwindling bank accounts, harden the fuck up & enjoy my time out on the road while it lasts. There would be a lot of people out in the big wide world who would kill to be in my position right about now. To my SwedishSweetheart & André, Philipokles & Ida - I'm real sorry for bailing in such a dramatic fashion. I haven't been myself of late. I really hope to see you guys again soon. Have a sick time on the rest of your travels. As should everyone!! Live everyday like it's your last. You never know when the game is up.

Happy days in Buenos Aires - Picnic in the Park

Much lovin' from a happy go lucky kind of guy...errr yep. 
Off now to retribute myself!!

Nicko xxx