[Hyacinth Bucket]

From the desk of Travelling with Sue My next journey will be on a river boat in France - this travelogue will be shorter.

Thank you for all for all of your positive feedback. I love to travel and learn from other travellers.

Fear of the Unknown

January 25 – we arrived in Montevideo, Uruguay. As we left the ship and entered the port area, we cannot help but notice the number of tourist police. You cannot miss them. They wear orange tops stating POLICIA TOURISTA. We realize, yes, it gives one a secure feeling and at the same time you can not help but realize the number of petty crimes that are committed here, As usual, when I am in any big city, my money and other documents I need to carry ashore are safety pinned on the inside waistband of my skirt. I must tell you, that this is nothing new for me. The first time I ever went to NYC my mother told me to do this, and I have been doing it for over a half century. Call it big city precaution.

As we walked to the main square to start exploring this new city, we go through outdoor markets where the local people shop. We see not only veggies displayed very colorfully but also vendors selling their wares. There was one person selling a suitcase with women’s clothing in it for one US dollar. We looked at the clothing and agreed that it looked like the clothing a tourist would have, compared to what we have seen the local women wear. It reminded us of the time we were in Ecuador when our suitcases were stolen from a locked van.

As we walked, we thought we were seeing the beginning of a civil disobedience or a protest similar to one we had seen in Cuenca, Ecuador. There were quite a few photographers, people waving, cheering other people on and talking loudly in Spanish. When we approached the building we read the sign on top, of the building; it was a Registrar. This is the building where people go to be married—the local marriage bureau. Numerous couples were getting married; there were two carts with women selling brightly colored bags of confetti and rice. By the time we approached the site, if you judged by the number of brightly colorful pieces of small paper on the cobble stones, many people had gotten married that day.

The brides and grooms that we saw were wearing everyday clothing, smiling, and shaking hands with who we assumed were their families and friends. We did not see any bouquets or anyone dressed up in cocktail clothing. Surprisingly, we did not notice any children here either. When we looked up at the second floor of the building again, we laughed to ourselves: Our so-called members of a local disobedience were the people either waiting to be married or their guests. The same woman was sitting outside the window in her green skirt, and others were waving.

Due to the nature of the sidewalk, either uneven cobble stones or cement with a design in it here and there, or tiles embedded in the sidewalk, there were numerous areas where one could trip and fall. We looked down more than we looked up or around us.

The last square we stopped at had a beautiful fountain; the design reminded us of miniature botanical gardens by the number of various trees and plantings that were here. On the benches people were enjoying their lunch, taking a snooze, talking with each other or what appeared to be daydreaming. The weather was picture perfect for these activities, there was a gentle breeze, sun was shining and the sky was blue with a few clouds. Most people sat on the benches under the beautiful dark green trees.

I ignored four men who were calling out. I did not understand what they were saying and I was worried. Two of my colleagues are fairly fluent in Spanish and spoke with the men. It appears all they wanted was to have their picture taken. As I went over I realized I had nothing to be worried about. They were friendly and a little tipsy. They kept saying “gracias” or “thank you” in broken English. Then they all got up looked at the picture and had wonderful smiles on their faces. To my surprise they then shook our hands and one of the men kissed my hand.

I could not help think what a sad state of affairs the world has come to. Here were four friendly people, but because of all the news about being extremely cautious in large cities I worried needlessly. Would I do the same thing again? I would have to say yes, I would be quite cautious. I was very happy my colleagues were able to communicate with these men, as this memory will be one that will stay with me.

As we strolled from one main square to another, we noticed that it looked like people came here to enjoy each other’s friendship, relax in the beautiful weather or watch their children play. When we reached the next square there were numerous stalls with people selling antiques, books, handmade jewelry, articles of clothing and food. I could have spent hours here, but this place was not my colleagues’ dream site. I did look through some of the antique booths and found two items to buy. I wish I wore jewelry. The pieces I saw were unique eyecatchers. The prices seemed to be quite reasonable when one takes into consideration the workmanship that is involved in making these pieces.

In Montevideo my neck hurt quite a bit. We were continually changing from looking down to watch our step on the uneven sidewalks and then looking up at the different architecture of the building. The buildings had different style balconies. Some were quite narrow against the buildings, while others seemed to be wide enough to put a chair on it. The buildings reminded us of the historic buildings we have seen in Europe. The three-dimensional designs included cherubs looking out of windows, urns filled with flowers, ornamental designs, and elaborate scroll work. The balconies were made out of different materials even though the buildings had cement fronts. We saw balconies made from cement that had massive looking banisters and pillars that had intricate designs of them and both wide and narrow wrought iron The pillars had scrolls or vines coming down them, and the banisters usually followed through with the same design. On the wrought iron balconies, wherever a banister met a pillar there was fancy fret work. We did notice that some of buildings were painted in a pastel pink

As we walked back to the pier we observed that there were not many traffic lights and we did not recall seeing one stop sign in the two miles we had walke. We did not see any accidents either, which we thought was amazing..

January 26 – we disembark in Buenos Aires, Argentina, saying our farewells to our other traveling companions and to the numerous crew members with whom we had become friendly during our 16 day voyage. We find this moment bittersweet; we will miss the friends we have made though at the same time look forward to our next adventure on this journey.

It is quite easy to get a taxi at the port as they have everything laid out. You pay for your taxi, get in line and the next taxi that comes along is yours. They have numerous taxis waiting, so the wait is only a few minutes.

We arrive at our hotel, which used to be known as the Plaza Hotel and at one time was the Grand Dame of hotels in Buenos Aires. Our room is not ready but our colleague’s is. He has a mini suite which is very nice and has a balcony. Our room is the standard room; we face a cathedral and an apartment house.

We explore the city and make dinner reservations at one of the famous steak houses on the waterfront. We walk down one of the pedestrian malls, leather shop after leather shop, men standing in front of the shops telling us to come in, men and women offering discount forms for both restaurants and leather shops. Buenos Aires is the first city we have ever visited where there appeared to be more stores with men’s clothing than women’s!

Another thing we noticed is that there were no liquor stores on this main mall where we walked. There was a MacDonald’s near the hotel, but other than that we did not see the usual fast food chain restaurants. We were delighted not to see them. . . .

Here we are in Eva Peron’s city. I know she is not popular with some people but after seeing the play Evita it is hard to think of Buenos Aires in any other way. Our hotel is on one of the main pedestrian shopping malls. The street itself is only open for pedestrian traffic. Here we are looking forward to seeing one of the many couples doing the Tango in the street or at one of the markets we will visit.

Jan 27th Sunday – We visit San Telmo which is a major center for people selling various items. This market has grown so big; it now starts about six blocks before we get to the square. We hear many singers, some singing folk melodies, others operatic singers, and then of course you have the latest hits being sung. We also pass by numerous musicians. Some of the musicians appear to be indigenous people in native dress and playing their instruments. Then we come upon a group of about 8 musicians who are playing classical music.

We had read that there would be dancers doing the tango, but we did not see one couple. I must admit that this was a disappointment for me, as I was looking forward to seeing them. From all the reports I read it was always noted that we would see couples doing the tango in the street.

The marketplace is an interesting one. We see stalls of handmade items, sweaters, hats, and shawls, baby clothing and jackets. Then there was the usual used clothing but not yet retro. There were numerous vendors of retro clothing and accessories. I wish I had saved some of the items they are now selling. I saw people selling books, various historical paper items, housewares, antiques, jewelry, and crafts.

Around the square there were many restaurants where people were sitting outside enjoying yerba mate, a traditional tea drink, coffee, and light lunches. We walked for four blocks and were unable to fine one outside table that was not occupied. We finally went in to one of the cafes and had a small lunch. When you sat down, they gave you a bowl of peanuts and it is the custom in this shop to throw the shells on the floor. Our tables looked like ones that I have seen in the museums that are hundreds of years old. I thought it would be neat if they could only share the conversations that were spoken around the table.

We had an amazing dinner in a wonderful restaurant on a gentrified waterfront (converted warehouse), lots of meat well cut and prepared, probably expensive by local standards but reasonable compared to home.

Jan. 28th – played catch up writing the travelog. We went to a local pizzeria for dinner, recommended by our favorite concierge at the hotel and close by. The pizza was quite good.

Jan. 29th we return to Recoletta – I want to spend more time in the chapel and in the cemetery. May seem funny to say we are returning to a cemetery. The day is sunny, with a beautiful soft breeze and not too warm. The weather adds a feeling of warmth to what otherwise may seem like an odd and dreary place to visit.

Recoleta Cemetery is a major landmark filled with the mausoleums of Argentina history's rich and famous, including Evita. We are taking a stroll down memory lane looking at burial sites of people who we do not know. We can imagine something about them by the monuments that were built for them, sayings on the plaques, and the ornamentation and pictures chosen. Some of the people were buried in the 1800s.

While we are slowly walking and looking at the different structures we met two European fellows in the cemetery who are also looking, discussing and wondering about the people buried in Recoletta. These two young me, now living in Amsterdam, are vacationing in Rio de Janiero and came to Buenos Aires as an excursion trip. They went to Rio for Carnival.

It is always interesting to meet new people and explore new areas with them. As we explored the cemetery we shared how we view the world, what type of a mausoleum we would like – and realized some of them would make wonderful beach or countryside retreats, due to there size. You also see things that you might have otherwise have overlooked or be given a new way to look at a structure based on life experiences.

We learn they have traveled to many places in Europe and, like us, have never seen a cemetery like this one. We find that we enjoy showing each other elements of the cemetery that are unique. As we peer into what looks like abandoned mausoleums we wonder about the family buried there and if there are any remaining living relatives?

One of our friends was once a model in Shanghai and he posed near many of the mausoleums or would walk up the steps and pose as if he was doing a fashion ad. In no way was he disrespectful as he portrayed how the people may have looked when coming to visit their loved ones.

Some of the mausoleums were in decay. The doors or entranceways had been broken into, pieces of plaster from the ceilings had fallen down, cloth on the glass doors were frayed and dirty, glass on some of the doors were broken, weeds growing in the mausoleums and cats finding refuge in them. We noticed that in some of these mausoleums someone had placed cat food and water.

This was sad to see this, this end of a family line. The hopes and dreams of whoever built the mausoleum left room for generations of offspring to be buried here. The family should remain together.

We toured Recoletta Cemetery together looking for Eva Duarte de Peron’s family mausoleum. While looking for it, we went up and down rows of burial sites. No two were the same. We saw angels of all sized, shapes and wing spans, mausoleum of all different architectural designs and sizes, made of many different building materials. The doors were primarily made out of metal with various designs cut into them such as large crosses, wreaths, vines, and other ornamentation. It felt as if we were walking through a Museum of Architecture covering many different periods.

Then there are the various engraving designs that were used by each family, not to mention the doors, entranceways into the mausoleums, stained glass windows either on the sides or in the ceiling, some had venting systems, steps, and materials from granite, to rocks to marble used in the construction of them. I do not want to leave the wrong impression on you; some of them were very simple in design. There were modest ones there, but only a handful.

Some of them do stand out more than others in my memory; there is one stature of a woman appearing to be wailing and the inscription reads”Oh My God,” then there is a sweet one with a young girl and her dog. There is a bust of a man with his hands folded and what appears to be a bored expression on his face. Is he bored being dead, bored being there, or bored having all of these strangers gawking at him?

The cemetery at Recoletta is mind boggling. You can see pictures of the rows upon rows of mausoleums or see pictures of individual ones. One can look at the overall footprint of the cemetery, but I do not think anything prepares you for the actual visit. Spent about five hours here and did not see half of the mausoleums. This is one place I would like to go back to and take a tour.


Jan. 30th - Our last full day here, and the weather was beautiful. Instead of going to museums we decided to visit two of the parks in Buenos Aires: the Japanese Garden and City Botanical Garden.

The Japanese gardens reminded me of the bridges we saw in China. Instead of the bridge going straight it has breaks and angles in it. The reason for this is that so you do not rush over the bridge but instead take your time and pause and see life as it surrounds you. The water, landscaping, the fish etc.

Spent quite a bit of time packing and repacking our luggage so that we would not have to pay for excess baggage. In the end, we only had to pay for one piece of luggage that was in excess of 23 kilos. . . .

Jan 31st returned home.