James Flavin Photography & Travel

Argentina (April)

Hola Amigos! I’m currently in Buenos Aires after a month of travel extremes from a remote Bolivian village with no electricity or water to the bright lights of the five star Alvear Palace hotel in Buenos Aires… and from two weeks of corn soup and rice to my current strict diet of cow. After a month or so in Peru and Bolivia, the relative sophistication of Argentina has been a welcome relief.

About two weeks ago, my overnight train pulled up to the Argentinean border. Weary from the 12 hour journey I walked across the bridge that separates Bolivia and Argentina and took a bus to the first big Northern town, Salta. It was a beautiful feeling as I descended down from altitude to be greeted by the sight of green Argentinean soccer fields. Finally I was returning to civilization. I could breathe again. No more corn, no more cold showers, and no more girls that are wider than they are tall. I was in the mighty Argentina. Outside girls everywhere ran to greet my bus, calling out my name and throwing flowers at my window. Well most of the above is true….

So I checked into a hotel, took a hot shower and came out skipping. My feeling of pleasure that night was one of those rare moments that can only follow a long period of abstinence. The euphoria of coming back to sea level, having a hot shower and sucking in thicker air was huge. I headed straight for the best Steak restaurant in town. What followed was one of the greater moments ever. As I sat there, glass of courtesy Champagne in hand, I could feel warm happy sensation brewing inside. I was glowing. Anyone who has seen the episode where Homer Simpson finds himself in Chocolate Land will know what I mean. I was so happy I could have jumped up and swung off the gothic wax dripped chandeliers. And only then would the local Argentinean elite have seen that this smart shirted Tourist was in fact wearing ripped jeans and Adidas soccer shoes. I ate for Ireland, and rolled back to the hotel. Sensational.

I kind of see myself as a soccer version of Forrest Gump playing my way through South America. Since I first played in Mexico I’ve decided there’s no better way to experience this continent than to play as many games in as many countries as possible. My next and ultimate goal is to be accepted by the Brazilian boys on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro. When I’ve done that I’ll gladly fly home and put my suit back on. In Northern Argentina I began my progression towards higher standards when I took on the local shoeshine boys (actually men around my age). It came about when one of them wanted to shine my shoes (well trainers). I said “no but do you know where I can play football?” Two hours later I found myself locked in battle with Saltas finest shoemen. Beside the “cancha” (pitch) were lined a dozen or so shoeshine boxes. I was happy to be back towards sea level and so ran around with a newfound energy but with few goals.

Afterwards we all went back to one of the shoemen’s apartment where we drank a few cold beers and swapped stories. They were the most genuine bunch I’ve met so far. They made many jokes about my conversion ratio. I blamed the light ball and their shoddy passing. Then they all listened in amazement as I told them that one beer in London costs about five dollars! One of them then asked me how much I earned but said he understood if I didn’t want to tell them. I halved the number and converted it to dollars and they all nearly fell off their chairs. I felt guilty, so for twenty five dollars total I took six of them out to a top restaurant where previously they had only seen their clients eat. They were so genuinely grateful but didn’t really know how to handle being waited upon. They soon got the hang of it though and kept the waiter on his toes, much to their own amusement! We promised to keep in touch through the son who knows how to use internet.

I spent the next five days in Cordoba, Argentina’s second city. The day I arrived I signed up for a week of Spanish classes in the Language faculty of Cordoba University, and made my way to the campus in search of the soccer pitches. On a full eleven a side pitch, I got my first flavour of just how good at soccer Argentineans are. But I held my own in what was another step towards the Brazilian beaches. The following morning it was time for class. Try and imagine the arts block in Trinity College except with Argentinean girls… I definitely studied in the wrong country…

From Cordoba I joined my parents in Buenos Aires. My father was surprised to hear I was travelling without a blazer and tie so he brought them over for me. And with my new robes we attended a Tango show and the famous Colon Theatre to see the Magic Flute. By day we toured the city and visited a ranch to eat steaks and ride horses. Our abode for the five days was the legendary Alvear Palace. I arrived at the hotel in ripped jeans and carrying a rucksack. The staff looked at me like I was Julia Roberts in hot pants! But the appearance of Flavin Senior in a suit put them at ease; well almost…the manager did his best to smile at me although I know he really wanted to throw me out.

Well that’s about where I am. My parents left three days ago and I’m back to my own budget, which meant downgrading from 400 dollar a night hotel to a 4 dollar a night hostel. As I move towards the final leg of my trip, it just remains to see Brazil before returning home mid May to press my suit and drink some Guinness.

Hasta pronto. Your travelling friend..

Flavriguez