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Saturday, March 28, 2015

Buenos Aires - I'm going to take you to a tango show!

Buenos Aires (Argentina)
28 March - 06 April 2015


The question I get asked by all and sundry is ‘What is it about Buenos Aires’? In the immediate moments after I hear the question I always find myself in that inevitable space of having to fumble for the appropriate verbs and adjectives, I simultaneously berate myself for not ever having developed a stock answer, but now, with the equivalent lucidity of a man that’s consumed three glasses of Malbec and has hit that ‘sweet zone’ of temporary enlightenment, I figure that I don’t ever really need to have one. The question is about as complex as answering ‘why are you in love?’, I mean how do you formulate an answer and provide a significant amount of justice to the weight of that feeling? I know that I can frame the response in terms of what initially drew me in, which was the steak, red wine and its vibrancy of life, but that’s basic talk, that’s just Buenos Aires 101 for the newbie.  I  could then add something about its energy, passion, lifestyle, architecture, sense of style, sense of self, nightlife, the cobble stoned streets of San Telmo, café con leche and medialunas in Dorrego Bar, the roar of the crowd in La Bombonera, the dog walkers handling 10 dogs at a time on the tree lined streets of Palermo, watching the afternoon sun light up the buildings with a glorious burnt orange hue over Puerto Madero, walking Defensa on market day, sipping cocktails and feeling the buzz of Plaza Serrano, looking at the uniquely framed Punta de la Mujer, infiltrating a cross fit class in the parks surrounding Madero, empanadas, dulce de leche, having three bites of walking across Avenida 9 de Julio, not grasping the weird locks of our apartment on Humberto Primo, talking about going to a tango show, actually going to a tango show…you see, the point ends up becoming so irrelevant because in the end it all rests within the realm of my own personal connection with the city and how this place makes me feel. That’s something that I can’t convey in it's entirety, you can’t simply give that to somebody, you can only hope that someone else gets the chance to have that experience and also, perhaps, feel the same sort of thing as you do. So when Inga’s flight touched down at Ezeiza on the 29th of March all I was hoping was that this town would somehow permeate her pores and pass on that same vibrant energy that had mesmerised me for so long.

San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina

Sunrise in San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina

Obelisco de Buenos Aires - Avenida Corrientes - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Puerto Madero panorama - Buenos Aires - Argentina

Drinks on Plaza Serrano - Palermo - Buenos Aires - Argentina 
When you front up to the starting line of a 3.5 month adventure you convince yourself that you have all the time in the world, whilst at the same time secretly whispering to yourself, in your 'other' internal voice, ‘yeah but time will pass us by so quickly’, and you know in yourself that you’re right. This adventure originated from an idea that was formulated in Paris, that when said out aloud at the time sounded like pure fantasy, and yet as I drifted through the now familiar streets of San Telmo, there I stood, in another city, on another continent, Inga in situ and me waiting for us to started.
The decision for both of us to do this was a huge roll of the dice on both parts. Travelling with friends, family members, partners, etc can be fraught with danger. The traps are an ever present reality. Spending so much time in the company of one another can quickly undo a relationship and turn it into a pile of rubble, but with that said, where there is risk there is also the chance for an equally large reward. So as I waited at the overcrowded arrival gates of Ezeiza airport and spotted that familiar face in a very foreign crowd all I was able to say when she approached was ‘hey, look at you’, not the most profound opening line of all time but at least I had time on my side to be able to improve on that!
Corridor entrance to our apartment - Humberto Primo - San Telmo - Buenos Aires
 
Our apartment - Humberto Primo - San Telmo - Buenos Aires
 
Our home in Buenos Aires was a great apartment on Humberto Primo, literally on the doorstep of Plaza Dorrego, a place where for me I believe that a person can find the essence of this city. On Sundays the plaza, and the avenue that it sidles up against (Avenida Defensa), comes alive with the chatter of people through its markets, the sounds of tango and the movement of people in dance, cafes filled with Portenos and tourists alike, parillas filling the air with the aromas of all sorts of grilled meat, the clinking of glasses filled with Malbec and the unique sound of Argentinian Spanish. For me it felt somehow important that Inga fall for Buenos Aires the same way that I did and the only way I could think of doing that was to throw the wall of Buenos Aires straight at her on arrival. Walking through the throngs on Defensa, heading up to Plaza de Mayo and admiring the uniquely coloured Casa Rosada, walking Avenida Pres.Roque Saenz Pena and being pulled into the central vortex of the city as represented by the Obelisco de Buenos Aires, an historical monument located at the intersection of Corrientes and Avenida 9 de Julio. This to me is how I believe a city can be truly experienced but especially a place like BA where walking the streets really allows you to feel the vibrancy and its pace of life. As I’ve commented many times before in this blog, I often find the best way of getting to know a city is to just walk, to go, explore and discover, whether that be with a certain intent or wandering aimlessly in the hope of acquiring those ‘happy’ accidental discoveries. I was more than happy that with Inga her modus was similar to mine, although I found out very quickly that she adopted the exhausting principal of ‘walk until you drop’, mitigated by only by the fact that refreshment stops for us both were for the most part cocktail sessions somewhere in the city. An outsider viewing our movements could quite easily have been fooled into thinking that our journey through this metropolis was nothing more than an extravagant bar crawl!
Gardelito, Defensa on a Sunday, he's just such a part of the city. This is the personification of San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 
If it's a glass of Malbec then it must be Argentina - Puerto Madero - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Love this place - Dorrego Bar - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 
'Seriously Mafalda!?' - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 
The 30th of March brought with it an important milestone for Inga, her 30th birthday. It was this date and of course the 2nd of July, my 40th, which essentially provided the bookends to our intended South American adventure. It was these two dates that we selected months ago as being ones that we wanted both wanted to celebrate in this town. So, as opposed to the previous day where we experienced Buenos Aires on the street, I thought that, post morning champagne celebration, which also involved some extreme skill on my part where I caught the flying rebound of the champagne cork off the living room wall (trust me, it looked impressive), that we head out to the heliport at San Isidro and take to the air in order to gain some vertical perspective of what is the second largest metropolitan area in South America after Sao Paulo.
Somewhere over the Rio de la plata - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Puerto Madero from the air - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 
Looking back now, several months removed from where it started, you realise that in writing at ‘arms length’, the location of where a place resides in your mind is always punctuated by the moments that you carry in your memory for what and how those moments made you feel. I do recall on one particular evening whilst taking a walk through the parks surrounding Puerto Madero that we encountered a cross fit group mid-session. What’s fantastic about this area and I guess about Portenos in general is that they enjoy getting out and doing things, now that may be in the guise of going to cafes, restaurants and bars, or as in this instance, keeping fit. Puerto Madero of an evening is filled with inline bladers, runners, meandering couples and fitness groups, something that we of course intended to be a part of. So with the stealth and deft touch of a blind elephant in a China shop, we infiltrated one of these groups by mimicking exercises from the safe distance of 5 mtrs, because as a foreigner, you know, you’ll never be spotted with your cloak of invisibility!? Sure enough, within seconds the instructor was calling us out and beckoning us to join in, without a second thought Inga does and enters the fray and of course I follow. Now, I don’t want to say that the gringo ring-ins showed the Portenos of Puerto Madero a thing or two about exercise, but yeah, we absolutely owned them!


'El Che' mural - Carlos Calvo - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina

 


Mothers of the disappeared mural - La Boca - Buenos Aires - Argentina

 


El caminito - La Boca - Buenos Aires - Argentina

 


 
Estadio Monumental - Belgrano-  Buenos Aires
 
Estadio Monumental - Belgrano-  Buenos Aires
 
Drinks at Floreria Atlantico - Retiro - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 

When you think of Buenos Aires there are places and things that immediately come to mind, places that punctuate your consciousness, but in the same way these places and events are unique in the manner in which you experience them. So when I think of us in San Telmo I remember the mural of ‘El Che’ on pasaje San Lorenzo, the accompanying words which I now know to say ‘For love, use a condom’ or I think of wandering the multi-coloured streets of La Boca and El Caminito and remembering that greater than the vibrant colour was the acquisition of the best Pisco Sours in the whole of South America ( we didn’t know it at the time but our extensive testing over three months was definitive, Buenos Aires (La Boca) owned the title even though Chile and Peru disputed intellectual property rights) or I think of the inspired 3am suggestion by Inga whilst lying in bed that going out for drinks would be a much better way of passing our time (and I had to agree) or I think of rocking up to the well known restaurant of La Brigada in San Telmo well after midnight and the waiters responding almost incredulously to our question of whether they were still open ‘…but of course we’re open’…but of course we repeat to ourselves, this is Buenos Aires and this is where a so much living is done between the hours of midnight and 6am. This is a town where you can walk into a florist, waltz passed a very non-descript door and descend stairs to one of the coolest bars in town (I’m looking at you Floreria Atlantico)  but it’s also a town where old school charm is still maintained and none better than within the four walls of the well known Café Tortoni. It’s a city of passion, as encountered by our trip to Estadio Monumental where one bright April afternoon we caught the local derby between River Plate and their inner city rivals San Lorenzo, and it’s a city of culinary delights, mostly of the carne persuasion, as typified by our visits to Don Ernesto, La Brigada and Desnivel but more importantly highlighted by our expert opinion which of them had the best chimichurri (The most necessary of condiments in Argentina – and - It was Desnivel by the way). The ‘key’ to feeling a city, this city, is to immerse yourself the best  way you can in whatever it has to offer, and sometimes, if both you and the city are on the same wavelength then something magical can happen. Buenos Aires to me is some place that I have to feel and not just see, and, far more importantly I think, one of those rare places that even though it isn't home it somehow still allows me to feel at home, and if I  mayspeak for Inga also, I think it’s a place that she fell for in the same manner as I have and did again. Why and how that happened is not so important as the fact that it did and the fact that I really hoped that it would. Buenos Aires never ever seems to disappoint and is always able to give so much, this occasion was certainly no exception and for that, Buenos Aires, we say ‘Muchas gracias!’.

We were there! It says so!! Don Ernesto - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
 

Friday, March 27, 2015

Sydney: Trienta y cuarenta - the tour of never say never!

Sydney (Australia)
27 March 2015




El treinta y cuarenta es un sencillo juego de casino muy popular en Francia, pero poco conocido fuera de ese país.

In 2005 Australia qualified for the World Cup for the second time in their history, the wait since the last occasion had been a long 32 years. There were many times during that period when all of us despaired at the qualifying path that would be dealt to us in each four year cycle. There were nights of anguish and cruelty, there were nights of hopelessness, but, on one particular November evening in 2005, John Aloisi struck the ball into the bottom right hand corner of the net and the 80,000+ parochial Australian crowed erupted in a manner I had never experienced before or since. The words that rang true on that evening, ring true  as equally today, ‘You can never say never’. Life at times can seem to be so predictable, so straight forward but in a short half breath, the ground beneath your feet gives way and you’re left in altogether different reality. Sometimes the opportunities that this presents amounts to possibilities that you could never have fathomed in the second before the event took place.
So now, in the tradition of all my other kick-off write ups such asLife in a year full of Saturdays’, ‘The wingand a prayer tour’, ‘Don’t call this a comeback’, ’43: The tour of awesome’, ‘Argentina– The two-timer tour’,  I give you Trienta y cuarenta’ – the tour of never say never!

Part of this write up also needs to be dedicated to the continuation of an epic story in the making. For those of you who have missedRiga – Latvian Nightmoves’ andParis: Who the hell saw that coming, you would know that Inga and I met in Riga, had our first date in Paris and now, effectively, we’ll be having our second date in Buenos Aires…but of course, how in the world would you ever follow up an epic first date like Paris. For those of you that want to know, the city of good air will resolve your dilemma!

3 months in South America with two major birthday milestones, 30 & 40, time to get started!

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Sydney: All the easy shots down the line - this one is for you dad

Sydney (Australia)
23 December 2014

Yesterday I saw your car parked outside of the house and for a split second, before my brain allowed me to truly remember, I got excited because I thought you were home, and then when I realised what I'd done, I tried to hold onto that feeling of you still being with us for a few seconds longer. I took those few seconds for all they were worth.
 
I still have the 2014 World Cup chart pinned up on the wall next to my desk, it gives me a chance to assign a day, time and place to the games that we watched. That was our thing. Waking up at 3am, making coffee, watching Australia play or watching any world cup match that we thought might be interesting. Sometimes I'd dose through the second half of games but I'd try and hide it from you, I'm sure that you knew I was sleeping, even when you would ask 'Henry, are you watching?'.
 
I hated hearing the racing channel blaring at anytime. I couldn't stand the sound of live race calls, but now I wish there was a reason for me to hear it again other than it allowing for me to remember you in my mind. I watch games of football and I know I lack the insight and intuition that you had to be able to analyse a game and see events before they happened. I never quite understood how you were able to do that, but you could do it, just as in the same manner you were able to read the character of a person so much faster than anyone else.
 
Now I look at photos and can't seem to reconcile the images of you smiling as you sailed on past Notre Dame, or the surprise on your face when I met you in Paris, with the memory of you. For now you exist for me in memory and in spirit, and whilst I'm thankful for all the great memories I have of you I would much rather be talking to you about them rather than thinking of them in order to give context to such a great person that was you, my dad.
 
So now, I leave this. Times that we shared whilst travelling. I was lucky enough to have had some fabulous moments with you in the last few years and they will stay with me for the rest of my life. This last journey however is one that you must do on your own and I hope that wherever your destination is that you have a chance to sit back, watch a game or two and back a winner. Let me just say that for right here and now, the space that you left is enormous and I miss you being in it, maybe we'll meet somewhere and sometime else, maybe not, but for the last 39yrs you were fantastic person and I feel more than lucky to have had a father like you.
 
Montjuic - Barcelona - Spain - (2010)
 
 
Olympic Stadium - Barcelona - Spain - (2010)
 
 
Trocadero - Paris - France - (2014)
 

Seine River cruise - Seine (Ille de Cite - Notre Dame) - Paris - France - (2014)
 
 
High Atlas Mountains - Morocco - (2010)
 
 
 
Davis Cup Semi-Final - Srbija v. Czech Republic - Belgrade - Serbia - (2010)
 
 
Outside of his primary school - Belgrade - Serbia - (2010)
 
 
Topcider - Belgrade - Serbia - (2006)
 

 
Cuban style in the High Atlas - Morocco - (2010)
 
 
'A sandy caravan' - Empty Quarter - Qasr Al Sarab Resort - United Arab Emirates - (2014)
 
 
Near Hallstat - Western Austria - (2014)
 
 

 
 Dad & Big V - Kosmaj - Serbia - (2008)
 
 
 
World Cup Semi-Final - Spain v.Germany - Temple Bar - Barcelona - (2010)
 
 
Ready for Departure - Charles Kingsford-Smith - Sydney International Airport - Sydney - Australia - (2014)
 
 
L'Hotel - 13 Rue des Beaux Arts - St.Germain - Paris - France - (2014)
 
 
Australia v.Iran - Stadium Australia - Homebush - Sydney - Australia - (2013)
 
 
 

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Paris: Vivid dreams of colour in the brightest of black and white

Paris (France)
21 SEPTEMBER 2014

 
The open French windows of our apartment on Quai de Montebello allow our curtains to carelessly dance on the  gusts of wind entering our room, both teasing and provoking us as we dose in the early hours of this Parisian morning. That unmistakable scent of rain is intoxicating and energizing, it stimulates the senses, and its driving force, silvery grey curtains falling with purpose, blanketing this city, producing such a welcoming, soothing and calming sound, working as the perfect accomplice to a Sunday morning that has no enforced obligations. I slowly open my eyes and turn. Gazing out from my vantage point I can see the greyness of the sky, the grey leaves of the trees and the grey backdrop of Notre Dame, the historical cathedral standing imperiously on Ile de la Cite. The world to me at this moment seems to be vivid in black and white, a film noir, classic, evocative, unreal. Moments such as these you just can't script.
 
The morning hours pass with the same carelessness that you associate with a dream. Wonderful in its design but coloured by the lament caused by its own fiction. That however was the point where for today we had won, we had managed to trump the 'dream theatre'   by  creating a superior reality, the city of Paris playing the perfect supporting role. Thinking back now I can only ever remember those early hours of that Parisian morning in black and white, typifying the seductive atmosphere of that morning.

Mornings such as these have a knack of passing by all too quickly. In the blink of an eye we were standing out on the street, saying our goodbyes and wondering, I'm sure, when and where in this world we'd be seeing each other again. And even though now, typing this, I know the answer to that question, those sort of goodbyes are quite cruel in their design.

Some hours later my parents and I jumped on a train at Saint-Michel Notre Dame and headed up to Gare du Nord where we in turn bundled ourselves into a cab and made our way to Montmartre. It was the only time during our stay in Paris where the weather turned on us, rain occupying the best part of this Sunday morning as we were forced to negotiate the ever present crowds up on the butte. In all honesty, unlike other times in Montmatre, the crowds made it difficult to enjoy the morning. The little village was filled to the brim and perhaps I should have thought better of heading up there when I knew the crowds would be out in force.


Au de Gascogne - Montmatre - Paris - France
 

We made our way back to the Latin Quarter around mid-afternoon. My parents priming themselves for dinner at Jules Verne restaurant on the second floor of the Eiffel tower, and me, getting ready to head out into the Marais in order to steal a few evening cocktails and then pull up a chair at Chez Robert et Louise for another one of their famous meals, and yes, as always it was fantastic. A nice Bordeaux, boudin noir, entrecote and some salad. Its just such a treat, a place that always makes me happy for the food it serves up and its ambiance. It was the fourth occasion that I've had dinner there and I always seem to walk away in the same manner, happy, content and with a slight food induced daze.

 
Evening in the Marais - Paris - France
 
Afternoon on the Seine - Paris - France
 
Evening on the Seine - Paris - France
 
Evening on the Seine - Paris - France

My walk, or rather meanderings took me back down through the Marais and back down to Ille de Cite where I was able to watch the sun drop out of sight and leave its orange glow as its own reminder of the day. Boats drifted by carelessly, and my thoughts were equally as aimless. Seriously though, how many times in your life do you fly to Paris for a first date? Or how many times do you fly to Paris in order to simply surprise someone that expects you to be on the other side of the world? As I've said so many times in this blog, there are many times when I think of my travels, their outcomes and realise just how fortunate I've been. At times I even think that my 'luck' is due to turn at some point and that rolling the dice one too many times might just turn everything on its head, but I'm addicted, and as a travel addict I'm just going to have to deal with whatever punishment that fits my crime!

Making my way back to Rue de la Harpe I waited for my parents to make their way back from Jules Verne. Somewhere close to midnight they made their way back in, with alcohol inspired cheer and raving at what a magnificent evening they had. That was it, mission accomplished for me, now I was fully satisfied.

Hitting the streets of Paris once again I made my way slowly through the Latin Quarter, once again alone, once again living in my own thoughts but already thinking ahead as to where and when my next port of call would be. Only the night before Inga and I had been discussing a few months in South America in 2015, and writing now about what my thoughts were then, I'm happy to advise myself that I'll be spending  three months with Inga, in South America commencing in Buenos Aires on the 28th of March, 2015! So watch this space, 2015 is going to be an amazing year for both my own travels and the unravelling of an amazing storyline that commenced some four years ago.

 

Monday, November 3, 2014

Paris: What midnight in Paris commits

Paris (France)
20 SEP 2014

 

'Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.’

...Also see Friday in Paris which accompanies this blog entry.

I don’t need to re-tell our story, suffice to say, we met on a beautiful Summers’ afternoon in Riga and I waved goodbye at 3am, walking out of the bar with the promise of an almighty hangover and a crudely drawn map in my pocket. Four years later we had our first date in Paris…and it was unforgettable!

It started here: Riga - Latvian nightmoves

...this is what happens when destiny gives you a second chance.

 

KLM flight to Paris. This is how you should get to a first date! Amsterdam Schipol Airport - Holland
 
Leaving my bag behind, thank you KLM and Air France! Amsterdam Schipol Airport - Holland
 
Apartment view over the Seine to Notre Dame - 19 Quai de Montebello - Latin Quarter - Paris - France
 
View over the Seine from the second level of the Eiffel Tower - Paris - France
 
The famous Champs Elysees from the top of the Arc de Triomphe - Paris - France
 
The Eiffel Tower from the Arc de Triomphe - Paris - France

I always liked the look of this place - Au de Cadet Gascogne - 4 Place du Tetre- Montmartre - Paris - France
 
Evening view along Seine - Paris - France
 
Notre Dame - Paris - France
 
Finally got my luggage and my clothes back! A shame it was 2:30am and on the morning I was leaving! Anyway, here's a 'selfie' @ 19 Quai de Montebello - Latin Quarter - Paris - France
 
 
 
 19 Quai de Montebello - Latin Quarter - Paris - France